Chapter Eight
‘So, you’ve lied again! Who is my real father, Sam?’
She looked at me and muttered, ‘come on, let’s go to your room. We need some privacy.’
‘So, are you going to tell me?’ I said sitting on my bed after smoothing over the creases in my quilt.
Sam watched me.
She clearly disapproved.
Probably an opportunity for her to bring up her Four Bloody Steps again.
‘I see you still have to make sure everything’s neat and perfect then?’
‘You’re changing the subject, Sam, and you know it. Why say such a trivial thing at a time like this?’
She put her hands together and sat about a ruler away from me. I knew it was a ruler’s length because I once measured the tiny diamonds embroidered in my quilt just to make sure they were all equal length apart.
Mum had said to me, ‘what are you doing?’ when I first put the quilt on my bed.
‘I need to make sure the diamonds are all equal, otherwise I won’t be able to sleep.’
She muttered, ‘I do hope we’re not paying Mr Robbins for nothing.’
‘Okay, I know I’m changing the subject, but this is so hard for me, Keisha. If I don’t tell you you’ll just keep on persisting with me.’
I nodded.
Sam was finally understanding.
‘Please know that even though I was raped by this man, I always wanted you. You were the most precious thing in my life even though I had to give you up to Mum when you were born. Nothing stopped me from loving you though. You know that, right?’
‘I do know that,’ and I paused before saying, ‘do I know the guy?’
She looked at her lap.
And she nodded.
Now I was confused. Who could it have been? There were only a few uncles scattered throughout Australia.
And not scattered equally either.
Two in Queensland.
One in New South Wales.
One in South Australia.
None on the left side of Australia.
‘Well, I know for sure it’s not Dad, and there’s no-one else I can imagine it would be. Come on, who was it, Sam?’
She focused on her shaky hands.
‘Are you going to tell me? You know you can’t back down now.’
‘I know. I’m just scared what you’ll do.’
‘What do you mean? What I’ll do? You think I’m going to go and punch this guy out? I can’t hit a big grown man.’
‘I know that. I’m not stupid, Keisha. I’m worried who you’ll tell. You know if Dad finds out he’ll go insane.’
‘Look, just tell me who it is and we’ll work it out after that.’
She sighed and paused before saying, ‘it was Stan, Mum’s brother.’
Stan.
The man who came to all our Christmases.
The man who had the lovely wife.
His wife always made apple pie for Christmas. I had no idea why. She cut little holly leaves out of the pastry and put them on the pie. It was like putting apple and banana shapes on a Christmas pie.
And Stan. He had that round smiley face, those thick busy eyebrows, those dark sultana eyes and a big round Santa stomach.
They stopped coming to our Christmases about six years ago when they won some lotto money and moved to Queensland. How could he have raped his own niece? His sister’s daughter?
‘Are you going to say anything, Keisha?’
‘I – I don’t know what to say. I mean… I just can’t understand it. I always loved that man. How could he have done such a thing?’
I couldn’t breathe.
I was horrified.
Stan was my father.
She turned around and I watched her fingers play with the edge of my bedspread.
She was pulling it down too far.
It was going to look very untidy.
I wanted to stop her.
‘I hope you don’t think I’m making it up because I’m not. It’s true. It didn’t happen just once either, and she looked at me to say, ‘that man was evil, Keisha.’
‘Oh God, I know. I’m just amazed he could’ve done something like that.’
I thought back to all those Christmases with Nell and Stan.
‘Come on, darling,’ he had said after one Christmas lunch before stroking her cheek. ‘Don’t you want to pull the cracker with me?’
Sam hadn’t said anything. She flinched and pulled her face away. I know I would have been only five but why hadn’t I realised what was going on? Worse still, why hadn’t Mum?
My uncle, my mother’s brother.
My biological father.
My trepidation.
After tidying up the edge of the bedspread I walked over to my book cabinet. Every book was arranged in alphabetical order by author name.
Every book looked new.
I hated the covers peeling.
If they peeled I threw the books out.
‘So what are you going to do now?’
‘I really don’t know, Sam.’
I turned around. ‘I still want to see him. I know he hurt you and I know he’s part of our family but I still need to see him.’
She stared at me. ‘You are joking, aren’t you?’
I went to sit beside her. ‘I understand how you feel and how bad that man treated you. He was evil. He should’ve been put in jail for life, but he is still my father. He is my flesh and blood, and even though I used to see him a lot when I was younger, I need to see him again now, more to give him a piece of my mind than anything else.’
‘Give him a piece of your mind? What do you mean? How could you possibly do something like that? You’re a little girl for God’s sakes.’
A little girl?
Were little girls told to read the Four Stupid Steps?
Did little girls have to go on Zoloft?
‘I’m not little at all. I’ve been through a lot, Sam, and I certainly know how to look after myself.’
‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You’re right.’
‘So, you don’t mind if I see him then?’
‘Of course I mind. Why don’t you put it off until you’re eighteen? I don’t want Dad to find out because he could go and kill Stan.’
‘Sam, if I see him I won’t tell Dad, I promise, even though I think he has a right to know. It’s up to you to tell him though.’
She looked at her lap and shook her head. ‘I won’t support it and I don’t want you to go, but I guess nothing can stop you.’
When Sam left I lay on my bed.
It was getting dark.
I couldn’t see the diamonds on my quilt to count them.
So I stared at the ceiling.
I remembered when I was five Sam had stuck tiny luminous stars and moons on my ceiling. I requested she place them all the same width apart so they formed symmetrical images.
‘You are an odd little girl, Keish. And annoying! I can’t believe you have me standing up here with a ruler just for a few stickers,’ she said.
‘They have to be neat. I wouldn’t be able to look at them otherwise.’
I had watched her short skirt climb further up her long tanned legs.
I always wanted legs like hers.
They were flawless.
They were symmetrical.
Sam had been able to draw the boys in too. I remembered her picking me up from school one day. She had on a skirt just shy of her bottom cheeks. I remembered wondering if the skirt had been one of Dad’s handkerchiefs.
‘Come on, gimme some,’ a hormone raging teen had said while we were walking home. He was making kiss faces at her.
She slapped him. ‘What did you do that for?’ he asked.
‘Just piss off before I slap you again,’ she said, and he ran off. Turning to me and grabbing my hand she said, ‘don’t you ever let any guy talk to you like that or touch you if you don’t want it, y
ou hear me?’
Her eyes widened and her lips firmed.
She was scaring me.
So I nodded.
While I looked at the ceiling I thought about my random thoughts.
The thoughts that entered my head and caught me unawares.
The thoughts I had when I talked to myself.
I often had conversations with my mind. I remembered walking along the street one really hot day and saw a dog laying outside a shop like it was dead. My mind was saying to me, ‘you need some water, dog. Yes, I’ll get you some water.’ I was having a really bad day that day and thought, ‘get him some water or something bad will happen. He could get up and attack you, or even worse – he could throw up on you.’ So I knew I had to get him some water even if I had to travel home, which was an hour away, to get it. As it turned out there was a tap a few blocks up. So I was lucky.
As I was beginning to fall into a hypnagogic sleep I had a knock at my door.
‘Hey, Keish, it’s me, Jessica. How’s it going in there?’
How did she think?
I paused before shouting back, ‘yeah, okay considering.’ I started playing with the end of my belt. It curved and stuck out, much to Sam’s chagrin. It was a Guess belt. She had bought it for me for Mum’s funeral.
‘Why do you keep on playing with it?’ she had asked just a few weeks ago when driving me to Dougall’s.
‘I don’t know. I don’t even think about it when I’m playing with it.’
‘Well, it cost me a lot of money so please try to stop it,’ she said with a smile.
‘Okay then.’
I was nervous about going over to Dougall’s. He told me his mum got a letter from her sister saying her daughter had been throwing up for ages.
The mum’s sister and niece lived in England.
But the vomit germs could have travelled in the saliva on the envelope.
‘Can I come in?’ Jessica asked. Her voice was muffled and I could tell she was leaning against the door, her lips probably touching the wood.
Someone’s hands had been touching that wood too.
She was disgusting.
‘Yeah, okay.’
She threw herself on my bed, spoiling the bedspread. ‘So tell me what you’re feeling, Keish.’
‘Did Dad send you? You don’t usually ask me what I’m feeling.’ I turned towards the blinds.
My blinds all had to face the same way.
They had to be the same width apart.
They had to be symmetrical.
‘Keish, you’re my little sister. I care about how you feel. I might not always be easy to talk to but I feel well, you know, sad about what’s happening with you and Sam.’
I paused before saying, ‘I don’t know how I feel. I guess numb, in shock and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know whether to stay here, lying down, because that’s what my body wants, or to go for a long walk somewhere I’ve never been before. What I really want to do though is to go into a mind state where I don’t have to deal with all this… all this confusion.’
‘I’m really sorry Keisha.’
Unexpectedly she put her arms around me. I tried not to flinch, only because I wasn’t used to big hugs from her. When I looked at her I was even more surprised when I saw tears in her eyes. She only ever cried if someone had polished off the last slice of chocolate cake.
‘Are you okay, Jessica?’
She sniffed and wiped her eyes. ‘Yes – yes, I’m fine. I’m just sad you had to find out this way and I can’t begin to imagine how you’re feeling.’
It was odd being this close to Jessica.
I kept myself at a distance.
I didn’t want to, but I felt uncomfortable.
‘Is there anything I can do for you? Anything I can help you with?’
I wanted to say ‘you can help me find Stan,’ but I didn’t because Sam would have wanted the status of my biological father kept secret.
‘No, it’s okay.’ I tried to smile for her.
‘Alright, but always know I’m here for you, okay?’
I nodded and she walked over to the door.
Before turning the handle she said, ‘anything okay, I’ll do anything for you.’
‘Thanks, Jessi. I’ll bear that in mind.’
‘Good. Bye then.’
I smiled and she closed the door behind her. I really wanted to tell her about Stan but I had to respect Sam.
Tomorrow I would find out how to get a plane ticket to the Gold Coast.
*****