The Sins of Our Fathers, page 3
“Someday, there will be a study done on the impact of all this connectedness.” I stared straight ahead and focused on his words. Maybe if I listened, I wouldn’t have to study. “How the evil of mankind is planted, cultivated, and spread through the world.” Mr. Frank was dark.
I leaned to the side in my chair and took in my classmates. Mick was in the second row, a pack of Skittles sticking out of his pocket. He and Maya were still going strong. Although for them, that meant they spent Sunday afternoons fishing and then cooking dinner together. They’d somehow morphed into a forty-year-old married couple over the summer.
Billy was turned in his seat until his back was to me. His shoulders had broadened since the year before. He’d grown a few more inches, too. He no longer had the lean form of a soccer player. He was becoming a man—albeit a cold and distant one.
Billy barely looked up from the blank sheet of paper in front of him. No drawings, no doodles, no notes. He was sitting in the room but gone in his mind. The possibilities of where his thoughts wandered left me just as cold as he seemed. Billy needed a hug and a stern lecture all at the same time. He needed guidance and parameters, and judging by the way he stared off into the distance, he also needed a friend.
As if he could feel my eyes fixed on him, he swiveled in his seat, ripped out a piece of paper from his notebook, and began to write on it.
“Social media began as something, well, social,” Mr. Frank kept speaking. “It was baby pictures, vacations, and nights out. Now it has become a political firestorm and nonconventional media outlet. Those are the two aspects of social media we’re going to talk about this marking period.”
Billy’s hand swept across my desk, leaving the paper in its wake. His body tilted toward Mr. Frank again without ever having taken his attention away.
The last note I got from Billy was unwanted and nearly ruined the prom. I didn’t want this one, either. Still, I laid my palm flat on top of it. The note was in my possession, so I might as well read it.
I pulled the packet of papers Mr. Frank had handed out at the beginning of class back toward my body with the note on top of it. I let it fall open and lay flat.
“I think we can be friends,” it read.
Ike’s warning to stay away from Billy was the only thing locked in my head as I read it. I didn’t need Ike’s direction. Billy repelled me, but the loneliness in his note struck me. He’d quit the soccer team at the end of last year. I’d overheard someone saying to him that he’d played since second grade and asking why he’d quit. Billy shrugged and walked away. The topic of soccer garnered no more attention than any of the subjects we sat through together in school. His quitting of the team, the bruises, and his complete disconnect from the student body this year made me think Billy was sinking into a new hole. One that he was no longer able to lift himself out of.
He glanced back over his shoulder at me. The papers were tilted toward my body still. I had no response in writing to give him. I should have had no response at all, but I smiled. It was one of those sorrowful gestures I always found myself giving to Maya whenever she spoke of her father. She’d entered year two without him and the sad smile still came out quite often.
“Your assignment for this week is to follow Fox News, MSNBC, CNN, and Time Magazine on your choice of outlets. You can use Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, or just choose to receive notifications from their apps on your phone. It’s all explained on page five of your packets.”
A collective groan rolled through the room. Hadn’t he said himself that social media was a personal thing. Yet, he was going to dictate what we followed for the purposes of school. High school could ruin anything.
The bell rang. I gathered my things into a neat pile on top of my desk.
“Ever and Billy, I’d like you to stay after class.”
It wasn’t Mr. Frank’s request that caused the sinking feeling of fear to hold me in my seat. It was the terrified and small demeanor Billy had sunk into. I didn’t think he could afford a call home from a teacher. I imagined the ramifications to be quite different in his house than in my own.
We both stayed in our seats as the other students filed out. Mr. Frank came and stood between our chairs and the row in front of us. “While I appreciate the ancient art of note passing in class, it is not allowed in this one,” he said.
Billy and I stayed similarly disengaged from his speech.
“This is a class about the modern media’s impact on our society. It is about engagement and interactions both personally and with new access to our world leaders.” I kept my sight fixed on him, hoping to feign interest. “Corporations have never had this type of access to buyers. Politicians are now able to connect with voters in a way that was unimaginable years ago.”
What was he getting at? My neck was starting to hurt from the strain of paying attention. If Billy had held out his hand, I might have grabbed it and run out of the building with him.
“I need you both to pay attention.” Ah. There it was. “There are juniors in this class and one sophomore.” He rolled his eyes, making it clear he didn’t feel Chris Nixon should have been allowed to take his class at such a young age. “Give me the note.”
Billy was staring at me when he asked. His gaze formed into a plea not to let Mr. Frank see it, but it wasn’t evidence of anything that could get us in trouble. He wanted to be friends. Billy’s hands fisted at his sides. His white knuckles pressed against the sides of his legs. I thought he was going to cry and then hurt himself. Vulnerability was more punishable than a drug arrest or a drunk driving accident for Billy.
The folded filler paper was still on top of my folder in my arms. I closed my eyes for a second and removed the ink from it. Without a word, I handed the paper to Mr. Frank.
“You’re both dismissed,” he said.
I slipped my things into my backpack and stood to escape. Billy followed my lead. We were just about to the door, when Mr. Frank held up the paper and asked, “This is it?”
Billy looked at me. I shrugged as if my participation in this entire exchange was confusing to me. Parts of it were. Billy’s eyes softened when he saw the paper. I left him in the room with Mr. Frank. He could answer any of our teacher’s other questions. I’d already been involved more than I wanted to be.
“Ever,” Billy called out as he ran after me.
“I’m going to be late.” The hallway around us was empty. “I’m already late.”
“I know.” He grabbed my backpack, stopping me. Billy’s lack of respect for my body or the space around it ignited an old instinct with him. I stared at his hand until he returned it to the side of his body. “I need to talk to you alone. We need to meet in private.”
“No, we don’t.”
“Yes.” He leaned down until we were staring into each other’s eyes. “You can do things I know about. That paper had writing on it.”
“What writing?” I lifted my eyebrows. I was more relaxed with Billy than I’d been the year before. My fear of him was dissipating and being replaced by a mix of emotions that together were more kind.
“Meet me at Stoners Lane on Thursday.”
“I don’t know what Stoners Lane is.” I began to walk toward AP Calc. I’d never been late for a class before, and I didn’t want to start.
“It’s near your house. Before Seven Stars. Do you know where that is?” Everyone knew of the historic house on the corner at the four-way stop intersection. “After the field, Stoners Lane leads into the woods. Just follow it back until you get to the clearing. I’ll be waiting for you there.”
“For what? The last time I ran into you in the woods didn’t end well. I think I’ll pass on round two.”
Billy’s gaze dropped to the ground between us. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say about that.” His desperation was swaying me. “We need to talk.” He needed to talk to someone. Not me.
“No. We don’t.”
“We do if you want me to keep your secrets.”
I took one step back and centered myself. “I don’t have any secrets, but I’ll meet you at Stoners Lane.”
He exhaled, and his shoulders relaxed. My attendance on Thursday meant a great deal to Billy. Even more than me being his friend, I thought.
When I got home, I cuddled next to Carl and flipped through my journal until I got to the page that had been ripped out by Billy. I’d slipped it back where it had been torn from. I hadn’t returned the words I’d erased. The pages before it were covered in drawings of birds flying and a poem about one disappearing. When Billy had taken it, he’d seen them, too. I flipped through all the pages to see what else he might have found, but there were only random drawings. Some with Ike’s name incorporated. Some of Ike himself. I’d never even shown him, but Billy had seen them, I was sure.
I concentrated on the paper until I could almost see his handwriting there again.
I meant it when I said you were perfect.
I let your boyfriend hit me to see how strong he is.
You’ll be the first to know when I hit back.
I’d take Maya, Gwen, and Ruby with me to meet Billy.
I wasn’t willing to wait for Billy to show his hand. The next day after school, I followed him home.
Ike would kill me for being in Billy’s house, so I didn’t mention it, which wasn’t lying, so much as withholding information. I disappeared after school and flew high over top of Billy’s car. He pulled into the driveway on the other side of the lake. The lawn was mowed. The shutters had been recently painted a bright blue, and the whole outside of the house looked well kept. I followed Billy from his car through the backdoor.
The tended to nature of the yard was lost inside the walls of Billy’s house. A faint putrid smell lingered about the room. At first, I wondered if it was Billy, but his movements only stirred it up. Dirty dishes overflowed from the sink. The top plate had a bright yellow crust stuck to it reminiscent of eggs. There were two gnats trapped in the mess. The floor was sticky, and I could hear the suction of Billy’s shoes every time he took a step. I floated six inches above it to avoid the issue.
Through the doorway was a hall I presumed led to the bedrooms. A hole about the size of a fist decorated the drywall, and there was no telling how long it had been there. The wallpaper shredded around it. The pieces were curled and browned at the edges. Nothing, not even the damage, looked fresh in Billy’s home.
He opened the refrigerator door, but there was nothing inside but a small container of milk and a half full bottle of ketchup. Billy sighed before closing it. I started to think we could be friends. He obviously needed one. A friend, and so much more, judging from his living conditions.
My stance regarding whether there was any good in Billy began to shift. He checked his phone, smirked, and tossed it on the kitchen table. He found a can of cat food under the sink, took a dirty bowl from the pile under the faucet, and emptied the can into it. There was no sign of a pet of any kind in the kitchen. I leaned back to peer into the laundry room. No litter box in there, either.
Billy took the bowl and grabbed a box filled with random contents from the shelf in the corner. A spool of twine, scissors, and a hammer all stuck out from the top. He went out the back door. I slipped through before the screen hit the jamb. I leaned against the back of the house waiting to hear the name of Billy’s cat.
“Here, kitty, kitty,” he said and placed the bowl of food in the center of the walk that carved Billy’s backyard in half. Billy came and sat on the back patio. He lit a cigarette and blew smoke into the air. I could have appeared and rung the doorbell. His loneliness was infecting me. A meow rang out before a yellow tabby cat came into view.
Billy smiled and melted me more to his situation. The cat was cautious, looking around before dipping its head toward the bowl and smelling the food that Billy had left out. I wondered how many days this cat came to eat at Billy’s. He had a white collar around his neck, but I couldn’t read the name on it. I tilted my head and focused, trying to decipher the letters as I waited for Billy to say the name.
Bang!
The cat fell to the side screeching and pawing at his eye.
I spun and glared at Billy, who was laughing as he lowered the BB gun. Before I could decide what to do, he traded the BB gun for a hammer and lunged toward the cat. He held it high above his head and dropped it onto the cat’s skull. The screeching stopped.
I could not breathe. I clawed at my chest and turned my head from Billy as tiny gasps of air fed me enough to launch into the sky. In the air, I could inhale. The cat didn’t move. Its body lay still in a small puddle of blood beneath it.
Billy came back to the porch and collected the box he’d brought outside with him. My stomach churned. I was going to throw up. He whistled as he strolled out to the animal, and I launched farther into the air high above his house. I couldn’t look down. My heart couldn’t take what he might do next. I flew straight to Rowan. I needed Ike.
I sat on the bench outside his dorm for an hour before he walked up the sidewalk path. His pace quickened when he noticed me, but his smile melted as he saw my face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked before I threw myself into his arms. He held me tight against him. “Ever, what happened?”
I couldn’t speak. The words describing what I’d seen wouldn’t form in my mind. I shook my head back and forth against his chest. “You’re scaring me.” He pulled away and held my face in his hands. Ike leaned down and with an incredibly gentle voice, especially for him, he said, “Tell me.”
“Billy Roberts is not a nice person.”
The muscles in his jaw tightened. “Did he come near you?” He reached down and grabbed me by the arms. When I didn’t answer he shook me. “Ever, what did he do?”
“Nothing to me. He didn’t even know I was there.” Ike exhaled and loosened his grip, but his attention didn’t falter. “I just watched him murder a cat.”
“What?”
“I know. It was awful. He lured it to his yard and then . . .”
“What were you doing in his yard?”
“I don’t know.” I started to cry. I hated the feeling of somehow being in trouble, but the repulsion I felt at Billy was burying all of that. “I felt bad for him. Did you know his dad killed his mom?”
“No.”
“He lives with his uncle, who I think hurts him.”
Ike shook me by the arms again. I stopped talking about Billy and focused on my boyfriend. “Do not go anywhere near him again. He’s a sick f—”
“Ike.” I should have said he needs help or that it wasn’t his fault, but I couldn’t shake the image of the cat sniffing the food from my mind. And the hammer.
Ike wrapped his arms tight around my shoulders. He pulled me close to him and kissed the side of my head until I felt myself exhale. I needed Ike to be careful. I had to know he was safe.
“Do you remember the note that was in Gwen’s purse before the prom?”
Ike didn’t release his grip on me. He kept me close as he answered, “Yes.”
“It wasn’t blank.”
“I saw it.”
I stepped back from him having to face him with my lie. “It wasn’t blank when I originally read it. I removed the ink.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because after everything we’d been through, I just wanted us to have a normal night. Just you and me at the prom. Nothing evil or murderous hanging over our heads.”
The power of the lost words took hold of him. He grasped the nature of the message by my willingness to keep it a secret. “What did it say?”
“It said, ‘I meant it when I said you were perfect.’” I steadied myself before the next line. “And, ‘I let your boyfriend hit me to see how strong he is.’”
“That—” Ike shook his head. “How did he get the note in Gwen’s purse?”
“I don’t know.”
Ike stopped thinking and stared at me. “Was that it?”
“No. It also said, ‘You’ll be the first to know when I hit back.’”
He exhaled loudly. “He’s sick, but he knows better than to mess with me. It’s you I don’t like anywhere near him. I wish he’d just hurry up and rob a gas station so he ends up in jail like we all know he’s going to. Just get it over with so I can relax with you in that school without me.”
“I have my coven . . . and my mom’s.”
“Ever, I’m serious. Stay away from him. I can’t be there every day.”
“Which is the real problem.” I pulled him close to me and wrapped my hands around the back of him. I wanted to forget about Billy. At least for a few minutes. “When is fall break? I want you to come home.”
He lifted my chin until I faced him. “Is it really so bad? I’m not that far away.”
“No. It isn’t so bad. I just need you.”
Ike held me tight and rested his chin on the top of my head. We fit together perfectly. “Just stay busy, and the time will fly by.”
I closed my eyes in the security of my boyfriend’s arms. “With eight women living in my house, that shouldn’t be a problem.”
“How do you fit in there? The six of you with my mom and Gwen?”
“It’s like I never lived there without them.” They melded into the family without a hint that twenty years had been between them. “How’s your dad?”
“Lonely, I think.” I held Ike’s hand. I knew how his dad felt. “I think he misses Gwen and me more than my mom, or maybe he just misses not being alone. They got married so young.”
“When my father died, my mother was sad for years. I hadn’t known until recently that it was more than just his death, but she still missed him.”
“Has she ever been with anyone else?”
“I don’t think so. I’ve never even heard of another person except your father.”
“The way he looks at your mom creeps me out.”
“I know. It’s like they’re still in pain just from standing near each other.” I stood on my tiptoes and kissed Ike’s lips. “Your mother, on the other hand, seems fine.”
He shook his head as if his mom exhausted him. “She’s always fine.”
