Secrets in the Attic (Secrets 1)

Jesse took it all much harder. If he could, he would have gone out back and whipped himself. He was too ashamed to return to Daddy's offices, and for weeks, he remained at home, working on the house as if he wished he could embrace it and get some solace and comfort from it. He went at it all with a maddening drive of perfection. Not a shingle would be permitted out of line, not a spot of rust on any pipe, not a weed on the lawn. It was his idea to empty the attic of all the old things. One night at dinner, he suggested we donate most of it to thrift shops and give whatever else to a consignment store.

"Some of it is so dry and brittle. We have a fire hazard," he declared. "And besides, I'd like to clean up the place, repair and paint the walls. Maybe we can do something better with it."

I didn't oppose the idea. When Karen was taken away, I had gone up to the attic, but I hadn't been there since. I was afraid of the memories it would stir up.

Daddy agreed, and Jesse took on the task of emptying the attic. He did it mostly during the day, while I was at school. I was grateful, for I didn't even want to see any of the furniture, especially our magic sofa.

Sometimes, I imagined Karen was still up there. There were times at night, after I had gone to bed, when I thought I heard footsteps above me. One time, I was absolutely positive I did, and it put a chill under my breast and down my stomach. I rose and listened harder. Then I considered the possibility that it was Jesse. I went out to the hallway and saw that his bedroom door was ajar, so I peered in and saw his bed was empty. He was upstairs. I thought I would go up to see why, but I chose instead to return to my bed. He had his own demons to exorcize, I thought. He needed to be alone.

More than one girl at school, however, begged me to show her the attic, the scene of the fantastic story, or, as Karen had once said, "our own Anne Frank hideaway." I simply shook my head to indicate the mere idea was distasteful.

"It's been shut up," I told them. They believed it, because they imagined that would be exactly what their own parents would do. Lies were still useful, unfortunately.

I had one terrible confrontation with Karen's mother. She was so angry Daddy thought she might influence the district attorney or clamor for Jesse and me to suffer some punishment somehow. He also feared she or her attorney would find some way to initiate a civil suit, so when she called to come over to see us, he thought it would be wiser not to reject her.

"She has a right to this," Daddy explained. Jesse and I sat in the living room like two errant children, waiting to be reprimanded. Fortunately, Mama was home. My parents greeted Darlene Pearson at the front door, and Mama hugged her, both she and Daddy stringing apologies, sympathies, and hope in their greetings. Then they brought her to the living room. We both looked up at her. She shook her head, and Mama asked her to sit in Daddy's chair, facing us.

"Would you like a cold drink, Darlene?" "No, nothing, thanks," she said, her eyes burning through me. "I came here to hear from your

own lips why you did such a thing," she said. I thought I wouldn't be able to speak. My throat felt that tight. Jesse chimed in quickly. "We didn't intend to hurt anyone. We thought we were helping her."

"Helping her?" She looked up at Daddy who was leaning against the living-room doorjamb, his arms folded. Mama was looking down and standing just to Darlene's right. She turned more to me. "You came to my home. You lied to the police. You lied to me to my face. You let me feel sorry for you, when all along, you were in cahoots with her, deceiving everyone. Can you imagine what my nights were like, my days, facing all those people and worrying about her, while all along, you two were playing house down the road?"

"That wasn't what we were doing," I said.

"You didn't do her any good delaying it all. Poor Harry," she said, and looked up at my parents again.

Mama nodded. Daddy glanced at us but said nothing. "I did my best," she said, the tears coming into her eyes now. "You have no idea what it's been like for me."

She looked up at Daddy. "There isn't anyone in this community who didn't know how hard it was for me with her after I married Harry."

Daddy nodded.

She turned back to me. "I thought you would be a good influence on her, Zipporah. She would do better in school. She would see how wonderful a family could be."

"I'm sorry," I said. "She was my best friend. I loved her like a sister."

Those words at least took the heat out of Darlene Pearson's face.

"Well." She sighed deeply and then rose. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I don't even know why I came here, what I expected from any of you," she said.

"Don't hesitate to call on me if you need anything, any help, legal or otherwise," Daddy told her.

She nodded and started out, pausing to look back at Jesse and me.

"I can only pray for her, pray for you all," she said, and left. Mama followed her out. Daddy stood there looking at us for a long moment and then left.

"I don't care what they say about Karen," Jesse told me. "That woman had something more to do with it all than she makes out. She's just trying to pass off her own guilt."

I was glad Daddy hadn't heard him.

Afterward, information about Karen's dispositi

on trickled into our home. We knew that Daddy had the information way before but filtered it slowly, like someone who was trying to prevent arsenic poisoning. Too much at once would kill you. Of course, we knew Karen was placed in

confinement, which we later found out was really a mental clinic. The district attorney had put everything on hold until a clear and concise diagnosis was made. It went on that way for nearly two months, and then, toward the end of the summer, that second shoe was heard.

Jesse had done a good job of cleaning out the attic. He deliberately painted it a bright blue to contrast with the faded gray walls it had. He and Daddy considered redoing the flooring as well. It was a large enough area to present all sorts of