“Something wrong?” David wondered.
“Could you not slam the door shut?” Rebecca would’ve put a little more emphasis on each of those words if Mae was in the next room.
“I… I didn’t mean to.” He removed his gloves feeling the gravity of what he’d done. “I’m sorry, Mae. I often forget what used to happen when you got in trouble. Well, it’s more like I choose not to remember. We haven’t harmed you in… what is it, four years now? Doesn’t that convince you that we’re not like them?”
“What did I tell you about bringing that up?” Rebecca scorned.
“I’m not!” He exhaled. “Babe, I’m just trying to make a point.”
“Don’t call her that,” Mae said sternly. “Never again call her that.”
Rebecca and David stared at one another. When it rains it pours.
The three sat on the couch, Mae between her parents. “Now that I know he used to call her that,” David said softly, “you’ll never hear me say it again.”
“Can I go to my room? I want to go to my room.”
“May we come with you?” Rebecca asked.
Mae nodded, then looked at her father’s waist. David looked down to see what her eyes were fixed upon, wondered if it was his belt. Was it black leather?—of course.
The three went to her room, Breuer following closely behind, shaking his head. He broke his silence once he met eyes with Mae at the edge of her bed. “I gotta hand it to you, kiddo, you’re a great actor. You could ask them to double your allowance right now and they’d do it. Well played.”
“I’m not act—!” I’m not acting! How dare you say that! You don’t know, Breuer! You don’t know what I went through!
“I do know what you went through. If you’d let me read your mind I would have known that you weren’t playing them.” Mae scowled at Breuer. “I’m just saying, don’t get all bent out of shape, jeesh. Things haven’t been going too smoothly lately, and not allowing me to read your mind isn’t helping things.”
Her folks watched Mae look mighty angry at something that wasn’t there. It was time to bring to light this ill behavior. Rebecca decided she’d be the one to speak. “Mae, sweetie, whom are you talking to?”
“Nobody,” she said defiantly. “It was an accident.”
“You accidently said that you’re not acting? Nobody said that you were. And your father and I know that you aren’t acting, but… but you directed those words to someone who’s not here, and that worries me. Us. You’ve been doing it for these four years now, and it has gotten much worse lately. When your father said that we wanted to talk to you, it’s because we decided that the next time one of us heard you having a conversation with someone who isn’t there, we’d talk to you about it. We’re concerned. Not mad, concerned. Open up to us. Tell us what’s on your mind. There is nothing you could say that will make us upset with you. We just want to know that you’re okay. Do you understand why we’re concerned?”
She nodded. What should I tell them, Breuer?
“Can you tell us who it is you’re talking to?” her mother asked. “An imaginary friend? At ten-years-old that’s normal, but you’ll be in high school later this year.”
She kept eye-contact with her mom while thinking, Breuer, what do I tell them? No response. He wasn’t in her head. “What if it is an imaginary friend? Would you think I’m retarded or psycho?”
“Oh dear,” Breuer said. “Don’t say that.”
Then listen to my thoughts! You can listen to my thoughts in situations like these! Duh!
“Testy-testy, woman.”
“We wouldn’t think you were either of those things,” her father said. “You are who you are, and we love you no matter what. But if there’s something we can do to help you, we’d love to do so.”
“Help me? Like…?”
“Psychiatrist, he means,” Breuer informed. “They think you’re hallucinating.”
“I’m not hallucinating,” Mae said to her father. “I don’t need a psychiatrist.”
They looked at each other. Rebecca said they didn’t say that.
“No, but you hinted at it. I’m not dumb.”
“Right now, tell us,” David said sternly, “if you’re not hallucinating, you have an imaginary friend, right? Does it speak to you? Do you hear voices in your head?”
“David!” Rebecca scolded. “Don’t talk to her like that!”
“I think you’ve gone too far on this one, kiddo,” Breuer said. “You’re going to have to admit to having an imaginary friend. You choose to have it, though. It comforts you. That’ll work. Obviously tell them you don’t hear voices.”
“Okay. The thing is, it is an imaginary friend. I created him to comfort me when Mom and Dad were… mad. I don’t hear voices, though.”
Rebecca placed a hand over her mouth and through it repeated, “Your mom and dad?”
“I mean my old mom and dad.”
“They were never your mom and dad,” David said, much affected. “Just as it hurts you to hear me call your mother Babe, it hurts us to hear you refer to them as your mom and dad. I know it was an accident, but just know that it’s very hard for us to hear that.”
“Oh poor you!” Breuer said. “It hurts you to hear that? Try being the one getting beaten senseless for doing nothing more than behaving like a girl her age!”
I know, right? Thanks, Breuer. “So now what?” Mae asked.
“I don’t know,” Rebecca said hopelessly. “Would it be so bad to see a counselor? You could talk about the things that bother you; get some things out in the open. Your father and I wouldn’t be there.” Then amended, “Unless you’d like us to be there.”
“Don’t do it,” Breuer warned. “A shrink will probably put you on Prozac or lithium. These two will do anything for you. Tell them no and thank them for their concern. Throw in that you’ll start talking to them more about your feelings. Parents love to hear that bullshit.”
Mae giggled, glanced briefly at Breuer reflexively, then back to her parents. Rebecca caught it, and it panged her heart. “No thanks,” Mae said. “Thank you for your concern, but I don’t think I want that. I’ll try to be more open with you from now on, and tell you about my feelings.”
“We’d love to hear that,” David said.
You were right! Mae laughed. It was a response that her parents would later decide not to ignore. Their daughter needed help and they’d get it for her whether she liked it or not.
Chapter 11
After her parents left, Breuer advised she never do anything so stupid as that again. “They think you’re loony. You know that?”
“Probably. So what? You just said that they’d do anything I want, and I don’t want to see a shrink, so I won’t. That’s the end of that.” She dusted her hands off to demonstrate her point. “Now tell me why you want me—”
“Stop talking,” Breuer warned. “They’re coming to listen at the door.”
She pointed to her head. Okay. You can listen in. So tell me why you want me to like Michael.
“He needs someone right now.”
What do you mean, needs someone?
“He needs a friend. He needs to feel wanted. He’s been depressed over something that I won’t get into.”
Why me? I hardly know him. He wouldn’t feel better if I became his friend.
“That’s what you think. He likes you, Mae-Vee. He thinks you’re mighty cute, and of course he’s right.”
Flattery will get you nowhere, mister. She giggled. Really? He thinks I’m cute?
“My God, yes. He draws pictures of you and hides them so his brothers won’t find out that he’s in love with you.”
In love? Why do I have to help him? He’ll be fine. He’ll get over it. Now if you said Chris needed me, I’d be more than happy to help him out.
“You’d be helping Chris out by doing this. Trust me.”
No I wouldn’t. Chris wouldn’t care.
“Chris will certainly care when one of his two brothers
blows his brains out.”
What? You lie!
“Because I lie so often? Maeve, Michael knows where his dad keeps his hunting rifle. Lately, when his parents aren’t home, he’s been sneaking into their room and getting real familiar with the mechanics of that damned rifle. The first time, he checked the chamber for a bullet and there was none. The next time, he sat on the bed and positioned the butt of the gun on the floor and pointed the barrel under his chin and used his toe to pull the trigger. He assumed there was no bullet, but it was only an assumption. Part of him hoped that there was a bullet inside. Nowadays, most of him wishes there had been a bullet in it. Michael knows where the bullets are, Miss Minnow, and the only thing that’s kept his head attached to his body is his lack of courage. That courage is well under way.”
Why would he do that? What’s so bad that he’d want to kill himself over?
“Asks the girl who once threatened to run into traffic. Michael thinks he’s a freak. It’s complicated, Maeve. It doesn’t matter why, it just matters that he does. So how about it? Are you up to helping him? You just have to go visit him and pretend to think he’s a nice boy, flirt a little if you’re game.”
If it will save his life, of course I’ll help him. Poor Michael, I had no idea. Let’s go over there now.
“Have I told you lately how much I love you? If the whole world was made up of Maeve Minnows, it would be heaven on earth.”
Aren’t you just the sweetest thing ever.
Chapter 12
Maeve replied to her mother’s text, yes I’ll come home for dinner now, and left Michael’s house. Once the front door closed behind her she whispered, “Breuer? Are you here?” He manifested beside her and said yes. Her face was flushed. “Please tell me you weren’t watching.”
“I wish I could lie to you and say I didn’t see it. Maeve, you are the most amazing woman in the world for doing what you did.”
“I don’t feel amazing. I feel like a hooker.”
“Hooker? You surely brought new reason to live in Michael! You’re a saint!”
“No I’m not. If you’d have been in my mind you’d know that after that first kiss I was doing things for me. Not him.”
He grinned devilishly. “You like Michael after all?”
“I don’t know,” she said undecidedly. “I liked kissing him.”
“As opposed to kissing all the other boys you’ve kissed?”
“You know too much about me. So what if it was my first kiss? I liked it.”
“Good for you. How did you like the other stuff?”
Her face turned a deep shade of red. “It felt good when he touched me.”
“It’s supposed to. You’re a good girl, Maeve. I was starting to think you were going to let him… you know. But then you smacked his hand when it went for your cookie jar.”
She looked away from him. “I’m not going to have sex with him. We’re too young and he’s not my boyfriend.”
“That didn’t stop you from letting him go up your shirt, you little devil.”
She checked to see if he was still leering at her. He was. “Stop looking at me. I’m embarrassed. I was saving his life, you know. Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Did you see him stare at your boobs? If he’d have found the Holy Grail he wouldn’t have reacted any differently.”
“You’re so mean sometimes. And you better not have looked at my boobs.”
“Oh honey, I’ve been with you for four years: I’ve seen it all. You and plenty before you. Sex isn’t my thing, you know that. Seeing your body fills me with appreciation for the aesthetic beauty of the human physique, but I don’t have the requisite hormones to consider it anything other than art. I hate to ask for another favor, but I need one. Last thing for a long time, I promise.”
Chapter 13
Michael knocked on his neighbor’s door. Mae answered with a coy grin. He asked if she wanted to hang out for a while. She accepted the offer. Rebecca came from the laundry room to see who had knocked, discovered the nice young neighbor boy chatting idly with Mae. “Hello, Michael,” Rebecca said cordially. “Is there something I can do… or?”
“No thank you, ma’am. I’m here to see Mae.”
“Oh.” Then, “Oohh,” with a grin. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“I’m fine.”
“We’ll be in my room,” Mae said. She led him to her room and closed the door. “So what’s up, Michael?”
“Not much. I, I just wanted to see you again. I really liked that you came over the other day and was kind of hoping that you would’ve come over again yesterday or today, but it’s cool. You’re probably busy or something.”
Breuer, you here? No response. Yo, Breuer? Is Michael trying to get to third base or what? She giggled, alerting Michael. “Yeah, I’ve been busy.” She rolled onto her bed and propped her head up with a cocked arm.
“Can I lie next to you?” he asked. She nodded. He kicked his shoes off and did the same as Mae, faced her.
“I’m sorry about the other day,” she said.
“For what?”
“Doing what I did. Or should I say, letting you do what you did. I’m not like that.”
“Oh. That’s okay. I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have tried to undo your pants. It’s just that, well, I’ve never been with a girl before. I mean, I’ve never even kissed a girl. I guess I was just a little curious, and you seemed okay with what we were doing. It was rude of me and I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.”
“Keep your voice down,” she whispered. “I don’t want my mom thinking we’re doing that kind of stuff. I’ll turn the TV on for some noise.” She reached over, snatched the remote off the night-stand and turned the television on. Channel thirteen’s six o’clock news was on. She turned the volume up a good deal. “Yeah right it won’t happen again,” she teased. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but only to hang out. I don’t want to kiss you.”
“Really?” she said doubtfully. He nodded. “We’ll see about that.” She reached in for a kiss: he kissed her. After a moment the kissing became more passionate, then Mae felt a hand on her stomach, and it was moving upward. She broke away from the kiss and said, “See!”
As if he just fathomed what he had done, he blurted, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! It was an automatic response, I swear!”
She bit her grinning lip, gave him a playful slap across the face, too gentle to hurt. “At least you didn’t go for my pants again, pervert.”
He nodded in shame. “Are you mad? I would be if I were you.”
“Not at all. I like kissing you.” Her cheeks blushed as she said, “I even liked the other thing.”
“Really? Cool. It was more curiosity than anything. I’ve seen a picture of boobs, but that’s all. And yours are really nice, especially for your age. Thanks for being so understanding.”
“I’ve never had a boyfriend—not that I’m hinting!—so I’ve never been touched like that. And I was a little curious, too. A lot curious. So we aren’t all that different, are we?”
“If there’s anything else I can do for you, in the name of science, just let me know.”
Mae laughed; Michael laughed. “Okay. Well since it’s in the name of science, I wouldn’t mind seeing what it looks like.” She brought her hand to the fly of his jeans and felt around for the zipper. A flap covered it. She tried to work it out of the way, inadvertently stimulating and igniting a flood of hormones in Michael. He moved in to kiss her but she pulled back. “Nuh-uh. No kissing in science class.” She finally got a hold of the zipper and unzipped it, sought to unbutton his pants but a buckle was in the way. It was slow-going in science class.
Quickly, as if his life depended on it, he got off the bed and unlatched his belt buckle, yanked the belt from his waist and doubled it over to set it aside. It was still in his hand when Mae gasped. She backed herself flat against the wall and gaped at Michael with wide lidless
eyes.
“Mae? What’s wrong?”
“W-what are you going to do with that?”
“With this?” He brandished the belt. The brown leather loop flopped from one side to the other like a caught snake. She trembled.
“Jesus Christ. Do you think I’m going to hit you with it?” She didn’t answer, but her expression did. “Did… did you get hit with a belt?”
Eyes to belt, eyes to belt.
He tossed the belt to the floor, returned to the bed. “What happened? Do your parents whip you?”
She rolled over to face the wall. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay. I’m sorry for scaring you.”
“You didn’t know.”
Before telling Michael that he’d best be going home, she heard a familiar name on the channel thirteen newscast. She turned back over and angled toward the TV.
“Howdy-howdy, Maeve!” Breuer said from in front of the TV. “How’s it going?”
“Move out of my way! I can’t see the TV!”
Michael apologized for being in her way (even though she wasn’t speaking to him) and faced the TV as well, to see what had stolen Mae’s attention.
Mae glowered at Breuer, tapped a finger to her head. Get out of the way, Breuer! He moved. “I know that man!” Mae exclaimed. A priest was being interviewed by a news personality. The script below the priest named him Father Stadt. He said:
“It’s a shock to all of us in the church. It’s a shock to the whole community. All I can say is this: it will never happen again. When parents drop their kids off at church they do so with the belief that they are in the hands of God, not the hands of a predator. I spoke with Cardinal Waters this afternoon and was assured that the Catholic church would do everything in its power to cooperate with the police and the investigation to see to it that Father Imhoff—excuse me, Mister Imhoff—never wears the Catholic robes again; never steps foot inside a church again. This is simply incomprehensible, devastating. My heartfelt apologies and everlasting shame to the children and parents who unwittingly put their trust in the evil being of Mister Imhoff.”
Breuer, you better start talking.
“Not now, Mae-Vee. We have company, remember?” He pointed at Michael, who was watching the news report with mild interest. Maybe he was curious as to how Mae knew this priest.