Forgiving Eve: A Novel
Page 3
We never really discussed our levels with each other, but it was easy to catch on as to who was closer to either end of the spectrum. Seeing as Leila seemed rather unprivileged as well, I assumed she and I were closer together than not. My mind wandered to Jack as I wondered what level he was. I’d never thought about it before. Jack was just Jack, which was to say, a total enigma and incomparable to anyone else. He seemed to both get away with way more than most, while also seeming to have nearly less privileges than I did. I quickly pushed those thoughts out of my head as I left the bathroom and passed Leila on her way to bed.
When we entered the bunk, I went immediately to bed. That night I didn’t join Jack. I suspected that it was because he’d failed to join us in the cabin at all.
SIX
After my morning meal of milk, cream of wheat, and yogurt (they seemed to have been in a dairy mood this morning), I met with Greg. We’d had no “break throughs” since the (first and) last one and I couldn’t help notice that it seemed to be weighing on him. What must it be like to be so invested in someone else’s well-being? I wasn’t even invested in my own. I’d thought I was invested in Gideon’s but he’d proven me wrong.
I wanted to make it up to Greg for some reason, and that just depressed me. I left him to go to lunch and had to force myself not to think about him. I finally cleared my conscience by reminding myself that sometimes people make bad investments. Just look at the stock market. Lunch was followed by (silent) Group and I felt a little bit of relief. I always got the sense that Sandy was not so invested. It was a lot easier on all of us.
After Group, I was on my way to find Leila when I heard my name being called. I recognized the voice and slowly swiveled around. Ms. Hask was standing there, a plastic shopping bag in her hand.
“I had to guess,” she said and shrugged before handing me the bag and promptly turning and walking away. I peered into it and saw a box of hair dye, Raven Brown. Like, the last stop before you hit midnight black. I suddenly felt weird, like there was a bird in my stomach trying to get out.
She was too far away to hear my whispered, “Thank you.”
I set off to find Leila, for once moving faster than a snail.
When I spotted her goofing off at the smoking bench, I felt a smile tug on my lips. She really had limitless energy while it sapped my whole supply to have just said ‘thank you’ and walk briskly, in the same five minutes. Yin and Yang. When she spotted me, she came bouncing over. Before she could say anything, I grabbed her wrist and started dragging her with me.
“Whoa,” she said, “Did someone spray paint your Dalmatian fur coat?” I didn’t even answer, just continued pulling her along until we’d reached the bathroom. Once inside, I pulled out the dye and handed to her, pulling off my shirt so that I didn’t get dye on it. I only had so many and I was certainly out of privileges.
“Dye,” I commanded.
“No you Die, bitch!” She said, giggling as she tore open the box and started mixing everything. “I So hope this is your natural color.” I grunted an affirmation. “Lucky B. I’d kill for gothy locks like these.” I guess I saw her point. I had no clue what her natural hair color was, and sort of wondered how she managed to not go through the roots situation I was going through. Maybe I’d underestimated Leila’s level.
Despite Leila’s continuous chatter, we some how managed to get my hair dyed one color. I blew it dry and when I finally turned around and looked in the mirror, I froze. I vaguely heard her in the background telling me that it was too bad that I had such a nice rack since it was way more Emo to be flat chested, but all I really heard was static. I looked like the old me. I looked like the me before the real me came out to play.
I barely remembered to pull my shirt back on before I ran out of the bathroom, actually running for the first time in years.
All I could think of was Gideon. I had to escape.
I spent the rest of the afternoon hiding out in the area behind the art room, where a large Oak grew. Huddled beneath its canopy, I focused on not letting my memories overtake me. I owned those memories, they were mine and I had made my own choices. They were my choices and that empowered me. It would be a lot easier if Gideon would stay out of my freaking brain.
Finally emerging before dinner, since around here if you missed a meal it was starvation nation, I’d barely rounded the corner when I saw Jack just standing there. He was in his usual tee and worn jeans, his converse as beat up as ever, but I couldn’t avoid noticing how his tee was always stretched a little across his broad shoulders and biceps. He always wore that necklace, but I’d never really been curious enough to inspect it too closely. All I knew was that he even wore it in his sleep. After this complete appraisal, I finally realized that he’d pinned those eyes on me and it suddenly made me want to turn around and head back to my tree.
I was cornered. Usually I liked that, it made me feel wild, like it was necessary to trap me. Usually.
“I don’t mind, Eve. Seriously. The first night you did it, I was shocked. I wasn’t shocked because you’d done it, I was shocked because I didn’t mind.” I didn’t have to ask what he was referring to.
“You knew?” I hoped there was an accusatory look in my eyes, but for the first time in a long time, I was feeling uncertain. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Jack just shrugged, running his hand through his hair, which for once, was hat free. I willed myself not to shift my eyes to his soft hair. And yes, I knew it was soft. One time I’d allowed myself to touch it, lightly and just for a split second, while he slept next to me. “It didn’t occur to me to say anything,” he replied, unapologetically. Damn him, he always said the right thing. “But that’s not the point,” he held my stare, his sapphire eyes flashing.
“Enlighten me,” I replied as I rolled my eyes. I thought I saw the corner of his mouth twitch, like he was fighting a smile.
“The point is,” he said with dramatic slowness, “that I don’t mind. I’ve just always wondered why. I mean, you don’t know me.” He still hadn’t broken eye contact.
“Exactly.” That’s the point, I whispered in my head as I started to turn and walk away. Once I was a few feet away I heard him.
“I like your hair like that.” He said it so low I almost didn’t hear him, but I was glad I had my back turned to him because a tiny smile had broken out of its cage.
That night I crawled over and curled up next to a sleeping Jack.
SEVEN
The next week flew by…at a snail’s pace. Greg was more encouraging than ever, his aging hippie raw-raw show becoming too much at times…as in any time that could be found on a clock. Leila tried to get me to be more social with a couple of the kids, but I wasn’t feeling it. Whatever it was, I wasn’t feeling it. The only thing I had going my way was that she’d stopped calling me Cruella. That, and I could glance in the mirror without cringing. Who would have thought that I knew how to be vain?
“So guess what….?” Leila had her cat that caught the canary look on her face, which only bode trouble. She also knew damn well that I wasn’t going to answer her. I didn’t know why she tortured herself like that, constantly asking me questions when I rarely answered back, but the more I thought about it, I suspected she was actually trying to torture me. And succeeding. She also seemed to really like it, the weirder I got. Anytime I really flipped or did something completely Betty Ford, she’d start clapping like an excited five year old, or start announcing me to an invisible audience, boasting of my amazing feats like the ring master of a padded walled circus.
Sadly, she was growing on me.
Didn’t mean I was going to answer her.
Clearly she knew since she just kept talking. “Since “classes” are starting next week, they’re letting us do something special. Something we clearly don’t deserve, but unlike you, I enjoy life. So Yay for us!!” Then she stared at me with apt interest, like she couldn’t wait to see what I’d do.
I swallowed. Then I shifted my gaze from the
leaf I’d been staring at, to a different leaf at which I proceeded to stare. Scintillating stuff, here.
“Eve! Face it, you’re as bored as the rest of us!!” Her exasperation was so well rehearsed it was almost believable.
“I am bored. No doubt.” This was a state of existence I could acknowledge. Leila squealed.
“See!! I knew you’d be stoked, in an I’m-bored-out-of-my-mind-and-disinterested-in-everything-that-doesn’t-have-to-do-with-alienation kind of way.” She smirked.
I rewarded her with a smile. She was on point. I figured I’d throw her another bone. “What kind of torture, exactly, do they have in mind?”
“Tsk Tsk, Eve. It is the height of uncool to appear interested.” I rolled my eyes. “Um, to be honest, I’m not sure…I’ve heard rumors about a bonfire but we all know they’d never allow us around one of those. My guess is it’s some artsy fartsy hand holding thing but what I do know is that Light’s Out is pushed back from 9 to 10 for the babes and until 11 for us!!! WOOOOOOOO.” How life must suck when things like this are the brightest point in your life. Then again, wasn’t the whole reason I was here, the whole reasoning behind everything I’d done, been that I didn’t need or want any brightness in my life?
“You’d think you would like a reprieve from this Hellish week we’ve been having.” I suspected that Leila definitely meant Hellish in a good way.
“More Hellish than usual?” Nothing seemed different to me.
“Well you must be exhausted from screaming your head off every night. How you don’t wake up when I finally take pity and throw a pillow at you is beyond me.” Screaming? I had sort of thought she’d been joking about that.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course not, you’re asleep. That’s sort of an inherent aspect of sleep, you know.” Leila was so good at being such a nice bitch. I kind of admired her for it…until she continued. “And you’d been doing so well. Not a peep in over a month.” She tsked me agin, like I’d let her down. I probably had, by not scaring the crap out of the cabin every night.
Ready to move on from whatever she was getting at, I changed the subject. “If classes don’t start until next week, why are they doing this tonight? And what exactly do classes entail. No one will tell me.”
“Two questions at once?” Leila looked around in a panic and then made an exaggerated ‘phew’ gesture with her hand across her forehead. “Don’t worry, Eve, no one else witnessed it. Your secret is safe with me.” I just stared at her, half in amusement and half with apathy. Make that 3/4 apathy. “To address your first query, I suspect they fear it will take an entire week to get us hooligans reigned back in and returned to the shiny happy people they attempt to force us to be. Or maybe they need a week for double doses of our meds to kick in before classes start. They do need us compliant and placated.” She smiled sweetly.
We so rarely referenced our meds, that her last statement was a little surprising. We never knew who was on and who wasn’t. I certainly didn’t know about Leila, but when I got here, I at least had enough sense to pick up on Institution etiquette so I never asked.
“As for your second question, that shall be revealed when you are ready, grasshopper,” she stated mysteriously. She so rarely lorded her camp experience over me, and my lack thereof, that I was kind of surprised. I couldn’t decide if her no answer was to taunt me, or because she knew the truth and the truth was either scary or incredibly, incredibly boring. Probably both.
She stretched her tiny legs out in front of her and began swinging them back and forth. This girl really could not sit still. I felt a little proud of how much of a slug I looked like compared to her. We were sitting on an old rusty picnic bench, me on the actual bench part while Leila sat on the end of the table, facing out.
Taking inspiration from her, I half turned and pulled my leg up from under the table, stretching it out in front of me along the bench. I hated to acknowledge that not only did it feel good to stretch my hamstring, it gave me some weird sense of comfort to be stretching.
“Stop rubbing it in,” Leila said, scornfully. Not this again. Leila prided herself on her pixie stature but continuously berated me for “flaunting” my height and my longer legs. Right. Firstly, I was only 5’7”. Secondly, how do you ‘flaunt’ legs when you only wear jeans and walk the speed of a turtle?
I quickly pulled my leg back down under the table and tried to ignore the ache inside that was begging me to give my other leg a little love too. Sorry left leg, you must suffer.
We sat like that for 15 more minutes, Leila switching between talking non stop to pretending that she was mad at me and ignoring me. I just sat there and watched a worm. They’re pretty fascinating creatures. Finally she let out a very loud “Huff” and hopped off the table. Turning to me, she placed her hands on her hips and glared at me.
“What?”
“Come on…just say you’re a little excited about whatever we’re going to be allowed to do tonight.” She’d switched to whining.
“’Excited’ can’t begin to describe how I feel.”
“Oh Eve, I knew you’d be! I’m gonna go bum a smoke, catch you later.” I just nodded. “Oh! Jack is going to be so effing stoked,” she said excitedly. Then she darted off.
I didn’t even have a chance to point out that Jack hadn’t been here all week.
EIGHT
I gave up trying to care and headed off to the tree I’d come to think of as Gideon’s. It was where I seemed to end up when I had nothing else to do, and when I sat under it, I invariably thought of Gideon. I also invariably went through every detail of the period of time that led up to why I ended up here. I couldn’t help but focus on the details of my incarceration, how I was responsible for everything that had resulted and the subsequent consequences.
I wondered if I was starting to doubt my choices but then I brushed off the line of thinking. I wasn’t always insane, I didn’t think. I’d like to think I made at least some of those choices with a sound mind and with some version of reason. Then again, it would be a lot easier to accept everything that had happened if I’d always been a loon.
I realized that I didn’t want that to have been the case. If I’d been irrational and unsound, that undermined my choices. That would take away my power, and if there was one thing that would probably have broken me to the point that I was rocking in a corner with the key thrown away forever, it would be if I realized that I’d never had any power in the situation.
My stomach hurt from thinking about all of this, so I redirected my thoughts to before. Before shit hit the fan, as my mother called it as she’d screamed in my face, informing me I’d ruined her life, but that her consolation was that I’d ruined mine too. I hoped she was right on both counts.
Of course my thought cycled back.
Since we only always had each other, Gideon and I spent most of our time either sequestered in his room or hanging out in the vacant lot down the road from his house. We’d met in the fourth grade when he’d moved to town and been immediately bullied. I hadn’t really noticed, to be honest, but one day when I was eating lunch by myself in the corner, he’d sat down next to me and smiled. At first I’d thought he had something in his eye but then I realized that he was trying to smile and was failing miserably. From that day forward, we sat together every day, barely talking in the beginning.
I learned he was painfully shy, but I didn’t mind. I wasn’t shy, I was actually just aloof. Also, no one would talk to me because I was the best. I was the best in art class, I was the best in dance class, I was the best in music. I was hated because I was gifted. It initially hurt. I, like every other little girl, wanted to be accepted. I wanted my friends to be excited when I was praised on my technique in ballet, or giggle with me when I drew perfect caricature of the teacher. But no. Instead I was scorned because my cello vibrato was flawless.
Boys and girls are both mean. Don’t buy any of that crap about how girls are ruthless and how girls cant get alon
g with other girls. The reality is that girls just torment and go about bullying differently. The emotional fallout is the same: heartbreaking and demoralizing. Soul crushing, just as one is learning that they have wings.
So I gave up on being accepted. I also gave up the cello.
So I kind of had to learn how to have a friend when Gideon showed up in my life. But by the time we were 11, we were inseparable and managed to hit all of our milestones together. We shared all of our firsts. Gideon turned into a very handsome guy, after he filled out from the gangly blond kid he’d been. His honey brown eyes were a lovely compliment to his golden hair, both managing to conjure thoughts of sun, summer, and warmth. And he seemed to be pleased with how I turned out. He would love to run his fingers through my dark wavy hair, telling me it wasn’t because of the tactile experience but because he loved how my eyes would soften to the exact color of a dove.
We’d talk, or we wouldn’t, it never really mattered. Our company used to soothe each other. I loved him and I knew he loved me and so we were immune to the taunts and the belittling of the others in class, which grew in hatefulness and we grew in age.
There was not much I didn’t know about Gideon.
Well, it turned out that there was a hell of a lot.
NINE
The Caf was abuzz with energy at dinner. Somehow, Everyone knew about this alleged event that they were having, despite none of the Heads having made an announcement. Well, maybe they had, I didn’t really pay much attention to that stuff. Whenever I saw either of the Cohens, the husband and wife team who ran Camp Happy Happy Joy Joy (Leila’s newest), I kind of tuned out. Irma and Richard had always been welcoming, nice to me when I was brought here (in handcuffs, I might add), but they always struck me as off. Who in their right minds would start a place like this?