by JM Darhower
“Here I have food to eat and clothes to wear.”
“But no one understands you?”
She shook her head. “My masters treat me nicely, though.”
“Whoa, masters?” That rubbed him the wrong way. “Why the hell do you keep saying that?”
“I don't know what other word to use.”
“It sounds wrong, like you're a servant or a slave or something.”
She looked at him as he spoke. “Aren’t I?”
“How...?” He shook his head. “What the fuck?”
“It isn't so bad here,” she said. “People like me wish for the kind of life where they don’t have to fear paying for someone else's mistake with their life.”
“And wherever it is you came from, you worried you’d be killed for no reason?”
“No, there’s always a reason,” she said. “Just not one you caused.”
He was mystified. “That’s why you asked me not to punish you when I spilled my orange juice.”
“Yes.”
“Do you fear for your life here?”
“I always fear for my life. Just because you won’t punish me for someone else’s mistakes doesn’t mean I won’t make my own. I’m bound to do something wrong at some point, and I’m aware of what can happen to me when I do.”
Standing there, Carmine was taken aback by how much he suddenly understood the strange girl. She may not have seen it, but Carmine knew what it was like to pay for other’s mistakes. He knew what it was like to live knowing your life could end at any moment because of something that had nothing to do with you.
But masters? That he didn’t get.
She finished folding her clothes in silence before making a move to leave, but Carmine continued to stand in the doorway, blocking her only exit.
“Do you need anything else?” she asked.
“I need to know why you hate me.”
Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“You run from me; you won’t look at me or talk to me. The only reason you’re doing it now is because you don’t think you have a choice. You have no problem being around my brother, so why the problem with me? Am I that horrible?”
She stared at him as he rambled in frustration, her silence putting him even more on edge. “Christ, now I’m yelling at you, like that’s going to fix anything. Is that what’s wrong? Is it my temper?”
“I don’t hate you. I just… don’t understand you.”
Something about those words was like a dagger to his chest. No one had understood him before, and he wanted her to. He needed her to, because for the first time in years, he wondered if someone finally could.
He opened his mouth to respond, but the ringing of his phone cut him off. He pulled it out of his pocket, glancing at it, and she took the opportunity to slip past him.
“Haven,” he called, stepping out of the laundry room behind her. She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I think you’ll find we’re more alike than you think if you take the chance to get to know me.”
He turned away from her then to answer the call. “Yeah, Dia?”
“I shouldn’t have hung up on you,” Dia said. “Do you still need your laundry done?”
“No, I got it,” he said. “Someone showed me how to do it.”
He realized then, as he looked back into the laundry room, that he hadn’t even thanked her for her help.
* * * *
Carmine burst into his father’s office and plopped down in the chair in front of the desk. Vincent put down the medical journal he’d been flipping through and removed his glasses. “Come in. You’re not interrupting at all.”
Not in the mood for a lecture, Carmine dived right into what was on his mind. “So, why is that girl here?”
Vincent sighed. “Haven’t we already had this conversation? You said you didn’t care.”
“I care now.” His own words caught him off caught. Did he?
Vincent eyed him suspiciously. “Why?”
Good fucking question. “She’s strange. She says some weird shit.”
“I wasn’t aware you were talking to her.”
“Yeah, well, she’s staying in my house, so…”
“My house,” Vincent corrected him. “Your grandfather left this place to me when he died. And the girl’s here because I brought her here.”
“Willingly? Because it doesn’t seem like she’s on vacation, cooking dinner and cleaning up after people. She didn’t even own anything.”
“You’re right—it’s certainly no vacation for her—but it’s a big step up from where she came from.”
“California,” Carmine said. “Or she thinks it’s in California, anyway. She lived there with a master who could’ve killed her.”
Vincent’s eyes widened. “I’m surprised she told you so much.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t give her much choice,” he said. “Apparently she feels like she can’t deny anyone anything when they ask.”
“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, son,” Vincent said. “If the child didn’t want to tell you, she wouldn’t. She might be trained to serve people, but she knows how to keep secrets. She wouldn’t have survived as long as she has otherwise.”
Carmine had no idea how to respond to that. “So, what? She’s just going to stay here indefinitely?”
“Yes,” Vincent said, putting his glasses back on. “She isn’t to leave the house without my permission, so get used to her.”
“Get used to her? There’s seriously something wrong with the way we live. This shit isn’t normal.”
Vincent shook his head. “I know how you can be, so unless you need more help with your laundry, I suggest staying away from her.”
“How do you know she helped me with my laundry?”
Vincent motioned toward the computer monitor on his desk, and Carmine realized he’d watched the exchange on the surveillance cameras. There were a few in the house, mostly in the common areas. “I wasn’t watching because of you. There still aren’t any cameras in the bedrooms.”
“And it better stay that way,” Carmine said, standing up.
“I don’t want to see what goes on in that pigsty any more than you want me to see it,” Vincent said, picking up his medical journal once again. “Just be mindful of what I said. I’d appreciate it if you were polite and didn’t try to meddle. The last thing she needs is you making the transition harder for her.”
Carmine headed for the door, shaking his head. “In other words, don’t be myself.”
“Precisely, son.”
* * * *
Carmine arrived at school that Monday morning to find Tess and Dominic arguing in the parking lot. He climbed out of the car as Dia strolled over, plopping her ass down on the hood of his Mazda. He pulled her off of it, and she laughed as she instead took a seat on her clunker.
“What’s gotten into those two?”
Dia shrugged while Tess laughed dryly, pushing past Dominic. “What’s gotten into us is the fact that your father is an idiot.”
“Knock it off, Tess,” Dominic said. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
Tess glowered at him. “Not that big of a deal? Dr. DeMarco moved a teenage girl in, and you not only fail to tell me, your girlfriend, but when I find out you say it’s not a big deal?”
Dia leaned toward him. “There’s a girl living with you?”
“Yes, but she’s blowing it way out of proportion,” Carmine said. “She’s just some girl.”
“Just some girl living in the house with Mr. I’ll-fuck-anything-that-walks,” Tess said. “It’s ridiculous!”
“Give me a break,” Carmine said. “Don’t act like you’re upset about it because of me. It’s not my fault you don’t trust your boyfriend.”
Tess gave him the middle finger before storming off, but Dominic stood there, for once not following.
“Well, that was interesting,” Dia said. “You’re not really banging the girl, are you?”
Dominic shook his head. “They don’t even get
along.”
“It’s not that we don’t get along,” Carmine said. “It’s just that she runs every time I come near her.”
Dia laughed. “If you’d relax, I’m sure she’d come around.”
“You’ve never met her,” Carmine said. “Hell, you didn’t know she existed until a minute ago. You aren’t exactly an expert on the subject.”
“She's just some girl, right? We’re not that complicated. Besides, I’m not saying you should bang her or anything, but there’s nothing wrong with making friends.”
Carmine rolled his eyes. “No one says banging anymore, Dia. The 90s are over. People fuck.”
“Not always,” she said. “Sometimes they make love.”
He shook his head and walked away, tense and aggravated yet again. He brushed past Lisa, cocking an eyebrow at her insanely short skirt and tight black shirt.
“You want to?” he asked. Lisa smiled seductively. He didn’t have to elaborate. “Come on, then.”
He turned back to his car and slid into the driver’s seat as Dia frowned at him. He ignored her, though, and started the car as Lisa climbed in the passenger seat.
“You want to just do it in the car?” she asked.
“Hell no. We’re not defiling the leather seats.”
“Your house then?”
“No, we’re not going the whole way there.”
The moment he hit an unpopulated area, he pulled over and drove slowly into the woods. Lisa cringed. “Here?”
“Don't be picky—you want this as much as I do.” Reaching over, he opened the glove compartment and pulled out a condom. They walked around to the front of the car, and she reached up on her tip-toes to kiss him, but he turned his head so her lips grazed his cheek.
“You wait,” she said. “One day you’ll kiss me.”
He laughed. “Don’t hold your breath.”
Forty-five minutes later, Carmine was strolling through the school’s corridor toward his second period class when he spotted his brother in the library. Dominic was sitting at a computer, furiously typing away at the keys. Curiosity grabbed Carmine in that moment and he slipped through the glass doors into the room.
“Christ, it's bright in here,” Carmine said, shielding his eyes. His voiced echoed through the silent room, but there was no one around to scold him.
“First time in the library?” Dominic asked.
“No,” he said. “I've been in here for English class. I even checked out a book once.”
“Which book?”
“Count of Monte Cristo. I had to do a report last year.”
“So you actually read it?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I read the first page before I rented the movie.”
Dominic laughed but said nothing, too busy pulling up files on the computer. Carmine leaned against the desk beside him, trying to decipher what all the coding meant. “What are you doing, anyway?”
“Just changing your grades for you, bro.”
His eyes widened. “Really?”
“No. I did look at them, though. You’re never going to make it out of high school at the rate you’re going.”
Carmine shook his head. “You have some nerve hacking the school's servers. You're gonna get busted.”
“No, I won’t. I never do. Their system’s so simple that it’s easy to slip in undetected.”
“Do you do that shit a lot?”
“Occasionally,” he said. “It's fascinating. Did you know Moanin' Lisa failed Home Ec last year? It proves the point, bro. You can't turn a hoe into a housewife.”
Carmine laughed. “I can't believe you're sitting here going through people's records like this shit isn't illegal. And they say I'm the one that's gonna turn out like Dad.”
“I don't intentionally hurt people, so you still have me there,” Dominic said. “Besides, have you seen your disciplinary record?”
“I think the better question is have you seen it, Dom.”
“You're damn right I have. It was like reading a true-crime novella. Your permanent high school record is longer than Uncle Corrado's arrest record, and that's saying a lot.”
Their Aunt Celia’s husband, Corrado Moretti, had been arrested more times in his life than he’d had birthdays, but none of the charges ever stuck. Most of the time it just went away, and the few times they’d made it to court, the prosecution failed to prove its case. Whether it was a missing witness, a dirty judge, or a bribed juror, Corrado always found a way out of trouble.
A reporter once dubbed him the ‘Kevlar Killer’. No matter what you tried to hit him with, he walked away unscathed.
“Uncle Corrado’s the Man of Steel,” Dominic said. “Faster than a speeding bullet.”
“Did you seriously just compare him to a superhero?”
“Yeah, guess I didn’t think that one through.”
Glancing at his watch, Carmine pushed away from the desk. “Shouldn’t you be in class, by the way?”
“I have study hall,” Dominic said. “They don’t take attendance.”
Lucky bastard. “Well, I have to get back to History before Mrs. Anderson sends a search party out for me.”
“Yeah, you do that,” Dominic said. “From what I saw, you’re not passing the class.”
“You’re really not gonna change my grade for me?”
“Sorry, bro, no can do. What does Superman say? With great power comes great responsibility?”
Carmine smacked his brother on the back of the head as he walked past. “That’s Spiderman, dumbass.”
* * * *
Carmine drove home after football practice that night and headed into the house in just enough time to see Haven bolting up the stairs. He washed his hands and went into the dining room where dinner was waiting.
Vincent bowed his head, quietly saying a prayer. “Signore, benedici questi peccatori che essi mangiano la loro cene.”
Lord, bless these sinners as they eat their dinners.
Carmine started eating before they could say, “Amen.” He didn’t think asking God to bless them or their food was worth the breath it took to say the words, considering his father’s choice of occupation.
Vincent tried to make conversation during the meal, and Dominic humored him, but Carmine remained silent. It was well after dark when Vincent’s pager went off, and he dismissed them, needing to head into work. Carmine made his way upstairs and hesitated when he saw Haven standing in the library, gazing out the window with her palm pressed against the smooth glass.
He expected her to run, but she just stood there and stared outside. After a moment she motioned toward the small flashes of light that sparked in the darkness. “What are those things?”
Carmine turned around to see if someone else was there, taken aback that she was attempting to talk to him. “Fireflies,” he said, strolling over to where she stood. “Some people call them lightning bugs.”
“Why do they glow?” she asked. “Is it so they can see?”
“I think it's how they talk to each other.”
“Wow.”
“You've really never seen them before?”
She shook her head. “We didn't have any in Blackburn.”
“Ah, well, we have plenty here,” he said, shrugging. “They're kinda like flying beetles with asses that light up.”
She smiled at his description. “They're beautiful.”
“They're just bugs. Nothing special.”
“They're alive,” she said. “That makes them special.”
He had no comeback for that. Haven continued to gaze out the window while he watched her, seeing the child-like wonder in her expression. She looked as if she were seeing the world for the first time, like she'd been blind until now but she could suddenly see. He wondered if she felt that way, too, if everything in front of her was brand new.
He tried to think back to when he saw fireflies for the first time, but he could barely recall that time in his life anymore. He supposed he was just as fascinated, given that he'd been a
kid. He vaguely remembered catching some in a jar once.
“Do you wanna see them up close?”
The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he was asking. He'd heard his father and knew the rules, but at the same time, he didn't see the harm.
She turned from the glass to look at him. “Could I?”
“Yeah, sure. You want to?”
Excitement sparked in her eyes, the sight of it nearly making Carmine's heart skip a beat. It had been years since he felt anything close to that, and for a brief moment, he wished he could steal it for himself.
“You mean go out there? Outside?”
“Yes.”
“But I'm not allowed.”
He shrugged. “Neither am I.”
Technically true, since he was grounded, but he'd never let that stop him before.
“I'd like that,” she said, pausing before adding, “If you're sure.”
He smiled. She was trusting him. He wondered if maybe she shouldn't do that, but it was a vast improvement from avoiding him. “Wait here, and I'll be back.”
He ran downstairs to the kitchen, grateful his father had already left, and returned to the third floor after finding an empty glass jar. Haven stood in the same place, her hand still pressed to the glass.
“Come on,” he said, motioning for her to follow him as he headed to his bedroom. Turning on the light, he noticed she lingered outside the door. She looked around at the mess covering the floor, and for the first time in his life, he was damn near embarrassed. “Are you coming in? I mean, I know it's a disaster...”
“Oh no, it's not that.” She looked panicked. “I didn’t know if I should.”
“Well, we can’t go out the door, because my father will find out. We have to go out up here.”
Her brow furrowed. “From the third floor? How?”
“You’ll see.”
He watched her locked in an internal debate and smiled when she ultimately took a step into the room. Careful not to trip over any of his belongings, she made her way over to where he stood. Carmine pulled up the blinds before shoving open the large window. It squeaked a bit but gave little resistance, and Haven gaped at it. “I thought all the windows were nailed shut.”
