by Jeff Vrolyks
It was because of this that that he felt responsible for her success in life. When she attained accomplishments such as a 3.9 GPA, setting the school record in the four-forty dash (as a sophomore), and being named first-chair flutist in band class, these were victories for Kloss. And to a lesser degree, a mandate on his parenting.
When she graduated high school, Kloss grudgingly concluded that she no longer benefited from his guidance or advice. When he gave her the freedom to make her own decisions, she excelled beyond his expectations. Holly was a free spirit, effervescing with talent and competence, equaling (if not surpassing) his own.
When she began dating, he wanted to be a brother to her but somehow became her parents once again. Luckily for Kloss, she didn’t have her first boyfriend until she was almost nineteen, which made her adolescent years easier on him. He wasn’t at all surprised that she had a hard time finding boyfriends. She was bold and confident, outsmarted and outwitted most guys her age, and was of a rare and unique beauty. How could she not intimidate boys? A girl as attractive as Holly will scare off ninety-five percent of boys before a word is said. The remaining five percent were usually arrogant, unintelligent, or unfaithful, with the majority being combinations of the three.
Her only long term relationship was with a degenerate named Andrew. She thought he was ‘the one’, even though she admitted to lacking a physical chemistry with him. Eventually it was discovered that she was one of three girls who he was in love with. She was fragile in matters of the heart, vesting the whole of her emotional capital in each boy she liked. When her relationships dissolved, she fell off the deep end; her heart would be crushed, consequently breaking Kloss’s heart. As horrible a boyfriend as Andrew was, she suffered through the breakup as if he had been a saint instead of a sinner. It was months before she began dating again.
It wasn’t that Kloss preferred she didn’t date, he just wanted to know the intentions of whom she dated. And after a third date with Holly, the guy would be spoken to by her big brother. Anyone who intended on breaking her heart knew painfully well that there would be consequences, and her brother would be on the giving end of them. It was a widely spread rumor that when Holly broke up with Andrew because of his philandering, Kloss tied him to a chair naked, wrote White Pride on his chest, and dumped him off at an intersection in an ethnically diverse region of town. It was an exaggeration, but only a slight one. Kloss’s reputation of being violently protective of his sister further exacerbated her love life. And to think, all that Kloss ever wanted for his sister was to find a decent and respectful mate.
Since moving from Vacaville (a forty-five minute drive southwest on the 80 from Sacramento, with Dixon and Davis being the only two towns between them), it had really taken a load off his shoulders that Holly’s best friend Alison moved in with her. They had been best friends since their junior year in high school. That year Holly had a prom date with Chad Wright, whom she secretly had a crush on all year. Alison’s prom date was Bradley Wills, a senior and football captain—the most popular boy in school. Alison was hysterical when Brad invited her, rushed to Grandma VonFuren’s house that afternoon crying, “Brad asked me to the prom! Oh my god, oh my god, Brad asked me to the prom!” Holly was jealous of Alison, getting asked out by the most popular boy in school. Nonetheless, she was genuinely happy for her.
On the night of the prom the four teens shared a limo and planned to go to the biggest party of the year afterward. During the dance, Holly and Alison let the guys do their own thing for a while. When Holly eventually went looking for Chad, she found the pig making out with Susan Farber. Holly was devastated. Chad was her first serious crush, the first guy she had kissed. She suffered her first broken heart in public. Holly wished to go home but didn’t want to ruin Alison’s dream date. She hid from Alison in the girls’ bathroom and cried her eyes out. Alison learned what happened to her from Rebecca, a mutual friend, and what she did spoke volumes of her character. Ali talked Brad into staging a big fight (how she convinced him to go along with it was a mystery). On Alison’s cue, Rebecca went inside the girls’ bathroom and exclaimed to Holly that Alison was involved in a fight. Holly took the bait and ran out to the dance floor and found Ali and Brad in the midst of a heated altercation. An ugly scene. Holly was shocked that something worse was happening to Ali, which softened the blow of her own ordeal. The two teary-eyed girls went home together and leaned on each other for emotional support, even though Alison’s prom disaster was self-inflicted. Holly has loved her like a sister ever since. In fact, Holly referred to Alison as Anne on a few occasions, a rare slip of the tongue. Kloss had done the same. It was an easy mistake to make.
Holly would never speak of her, but she had an identical twin sister, Anne. They were eleven-years-old and new to Bend, Oregon. They often played with their two new friends from a few houses down. In the backyard of a nearby house lived a monstrous pit bull named Brutus. The owners would chain him to the front yard tree when they hosted guests for a pool party or barbecue.
One day, the twins and their two friends decided to play a rather dangerous game. They would stand at chain’s length from the pit bull and taunt him. He would bolt to them with bloodthirsty rage. The leash would run out just shy of them, yanking the dog back violently.
Today was Holly’s turn to taunt Brutus. She got a little closer to the invisible boundary than the other three kids had (even back then Holly exuded confidence). She edged closer and finally settled on her chosen spot. Holly was right on the money. She whistled: it turned its ugly head and saw a little girl in his yard. Brutus issued a death warrant at once. He was a freight train of muscle barreling down on her, saliva-dripping snarl to boot. Holly stood still, relaxed, far too confident. The neighborhood boys were impressed with her bravery. They stood beside Anne, a few feet behind Holly, hunched over and cheering for her as if they were playing baseball and their teammate was rounding third base.
Like every other time, the chain stressed when it snapped the dog back. Unlike every other time, a single chain link snapped and Brutus finally gained his freedom. He yelped as he flailed through the air at Holly. His impact knocked her flat on her behind, and stunned him. She screamed at the top of her lungs. The two neighborhood boys ran away, never looking back. Anne screamed at Holly to roll away from the dog and run with her to the car. That was the contingency plan they had devised in case of an emergency (Anne’s idea), to take refuge on top of the car’s hood.
But Holly was in shock and did nothing but scream. When the dog came through, he quickly remembered what he had been doing before being rudely interrupted. He snarled as he regained his footing directly over Holly. Instead of running away, Anne jumped on his back, hugging her arms around his neck. Anne screamed repeatedly, “Find a parent! Find a parent!” Brutus wasn’t much for little girls riding on his back and screaming in his ears. The girl on his back looked identical to the one in front of him; it was a fair trade. The death warrant was reissued in Anne’s name and from then on Holly was invisible to Brutus. His only problem was a big one: he couldn’t reach her. A problem he was both determined and destined to solve.
Now it was Holly who begged Anne to free herself and run, but Anne remained and insisted that Holly go get a parent. Grandma wasn’t home, but most houses had a parent or two inside, and they would have sympathy for a couple of girls getting bullied by this monster.
Anne continued to evade the dog’s attacks. But it wasn’t long before Brutus gave up snipping at her and began bucking wildly instead. With a quick jerk Anne lost her grip from his neck and tumbled to the ground. Brutus was now free to attack, and attack he did. He bit at her arms and legs as Anne tried to fend him off. Both girls screamed as loudly as they could. Neighbors were alerted. Holly pummeled her fists on his enormous head but it was as though she didn’t exist to him. He was blood drunk and dead set on killing Anne.
Minutes passed.
The screaming came to a halt when a neighbor put a single thirty-eight caliber bullet int
o the pit bull’s head from point-blank range. Brutus finally let go of Anne.
People gathered around the scene. Holly collapsed down to her sister, scarcely able to see through her watery eyes. She pulled Anne onto her lap, told her she loved her and cried so sorry, so sorry. Holly watched as her sister’s breaths became shallower and shallower, and finally she lay still.
Holly wouldn’t speak again that year.
Shortly after the tragedy, Holly found another vicious dog in the neighborhood. A Rottweiler. She climbed over the gate and whistled at him, waited for her demise. The dog charged her just as Brutus had, but this dog was without a leash. Holly didn’t flinch, but instead welcomed him. Her plan was to reverse what she had done, because it was Holly who was supposed to be taken to Heaven that day, not Anne. Her being killed by this Rottweiler would somehow bring Anne back in her place, because that seemed fair and she prayed every day to God for it to come true and God listens to your prayers.
Holly was devastated, and not just from the several flesh-torn bites that she suffered from the Rottweiler. The dog’s master stopped the attack before Holly achieved what she set out to accomplish. She would be in the hospital for several days.
Holly’s prolonged silence finally came to an end after she made the only sacrifice that she felt mattered, and she would take the secret of her sacrifice to the grave with her.
Kloss knew first-hand that if someone asked Holly if she had a sister she would say no. It wasn’t because she wished not to honor her sister’s memory; she honored Anne more than anyone (other than Kloss) could fathom. It was because when Holly remembered her sister she was forced to remember that Anne died because Holly lived. Guilt to that degree is unsustainable. To get past it, your mind has to shuffle some things around, do a lot of mental gymnastics to put you in a place that’s habitable.
What Alison did at the prom was not unlike what Anne had done: selflessly sacrifice for Holly. Holly never intentionally compared the two, but it was hard not to, there were so many similarities. In all likelihood, Ali didn’t know just how much she meant to Holly, because coming to terms with their sisterhood would invoke The VanHolly curse upon Ali (a curse she coined and respected dearly). Kloss rued the day anything should happen to Alison. It would be the death of Anne all over again, and how could anyone live through that twice? But it wasn’t just for that reason. It’s a little more complicated than that. Kloss was secretly in love with Alison. Not a crush, not infatuation, he was in love with her. He would never tell Ali for fear of complicating Holly’s relationship with her, as well as with him. More important was that she remained like a sister to Holly. Kloss had long ceased fighting his demons over the decision. It was a done deal. Life moved on.
Kloss finished his coffee and decided to call his sister to see if he could stop by and pick up the last of his things, maybe have a drink or two with her and Ali. Even though Kloss had moved four months ago, he had only been back to his sister’s place twice (busy-busy). When he did stop by he loaded his Hummer with his belongings, minus the furnishings that were donated to his sister.
He dialed the number. It didn’t ring. He must have mis-dialed. He tried again. Nothing. “Holly,” he muttered, “what’s going on here?” Kloss despised mobile phones but his sister didn’t. He dialed her mobile number: straight to voicemail. He dialed her pager and entered nine-one-one. Rarely would she go more than a few minutes without calling him after such a page. He picked up his acoustic guitar and worked on a new guitar riff as he waited for his little sister to call back.
Seven o’clock became eight. Ten emergency pages later he still hadn’t heard from her. Never in his life had he been unable to get a hold of her. He began panicking. The decision to drive to his sister’s was made easily.
* * *
Kloss reached the town of Davis, which was twenty minutes or so from Vacaville. He needed gas and wanted to try calling Holly again. He took the offramp and pulled in to his frequented Gilligan’s Gas ‘N’ Pass. After wedding the nozzle to his thirsty truck, he went inside the Food Mart to purchase a carton of Reds and a Red Bull.
Standing in line, Kloss heard a familiar commotion behind him. He turned his head enough to leer at two twenty-something girls gawking and giggling at him. He smiled cordially at them and sighed internally. When he first became recognizable it was exciting, a novel sensation. With time it lost its luster. Now he preferred being left alone. He never complained, nor was he rude. It’s the price you pay for celebrity.
“Are you Kloss VonFuren?” asked a giggling girl, who received a single nod in response. “I told you it was him!”
“Come on, line,” he said under his breath.
At the counter he was greeted with an affable smile from a portly gray-haired woman, a transplant from the deep south. He had known her for six or seven years, regarded her so highly that he purposely scheduled his refuels at this gas station. “Martha, how are you this evening?”
“Kloss! My dear Dutch friend, it’s been a while! How are you, dumplin’?”
“I can’t complain. Starting another tour in two weeks. It’s gonna be six a weeker. I don’t know how I’ll get through another six weeks without you.”
“Sounds fun, dear. Are you going to send me a postcard?”
“Don’t I always? How about from Washington D.C. this time?”
She relished the thought. Her beaming smile faded and with motherly concern she said, “Sweetheart, have you found yourself a woman yet? I never could understand what a good lookin’ boy like you is doin’ without a missus.” Kloss began a retort but she cut him off: “Never mind that you’re busy, and horse feathers to the fact that you’re in a fancy band and whatnot. You are a sweet, honest, and good looking young man. I’d imagine you would have ‘em lining up!” She scanned the energy drink mechanically.
Blushing, he replied, “That’s very nice of you, Martha, but you think way too highly of me. I wish I was half of what you make me out to be.”
Martha grabbed a carton of cigarettes without being asked and swiped it across the scanner. “Don’t be a stranger, now, you hear? Come visit me from time to time. You use to come in here a couple times a week. Don’t be gettin’ no big head and go forgetting all your friends just ‘cause you’re on the radio. That’s not who you are, blue-eyes. You’re better than that.”
Kloss smiled at her as he placed the exact change on the counter. He grabbed his plastic bag and left the store fishing a quarter from his jeans pocket. A woman was using the pay phone, so he patiently waited a few feet behind her. She became aware of his presence, covered the phone speaker with her shoulder and in a whisper asked if he was making a short call or a long one. “Sorry to be rude,” she added, “it’s just that I’m talking to my brother and rarely get to chance to. He’s in jail.
“I need all of thirty seconds,” he said.
She smiled gratefully and returned to a short conversation with her brother before hanging up.
“All yours!” she said with a charming smile that didn’t go unnoticed.
He lifted the phone off the receiver. Her smile lingered in his memory. He glanced back at her: a feather duster tickled his stomach. “It will be quick, then you can call your brother back. Sound good?” He tried concealing the fact that he was appraising her from head to toe. He wished he had his sunglasses on.
“Thanks, I appreciate it. I like your accent. Where are you from?”
He set the phone on the receiver and turned around. “A rustic little town called The Netherlands.” He flashed a charming little smile of his own. He was immensely drawn to her. Funny how that works. It was like her beauty was burgeoning before his eyes.
“Hmm, windmills and Heineken. Does that pretty much sum it up?”
“Our town cobbler uses a chisel and sandpaper.”
“Of course he does, and you have the finest tulips in the world.”
“Thanks. Yours ain’t so bad, either.”
She humored and reminded Kloss that the phone was al
l his. He picked up the phone and dialed. No ring. Could Holly have forgotten to pay the phone bill? Unlikely. He hung up and turned around. She was almost his height, pushing six feet. Her auburn hair had deep red accents, mostly straight with some curls setting it off nicely. Her hazel eyes were bright and haunting. He judged she was the poison of many men, a real heartbreaker. She kept a respectful distance behind him, nodding her head slightly as she mouthed the words to a song that wasn’t playing.
“I love that song,” Kloss said buoyantly.
She giggled. “Do Dutch people have superhuman hearing powers?”
“This one does.”
“Oh yeah? Then what am I saying right now?” She covered her mouth. He observed her ring finger was bare. Excellent.
“You said I should call you sometime, and then gave me your number.”
She liked this little game. “Oh did I? And what was my number?”
“Four, seven… two…”
“I hope you don’t play the lottery.” Her smiling eyes then relaxed. Her expression sobered.
Did I say something wrong? he wondered. Her tongue then poked out and held her upper lip, a titillating gesture he couldn’t miss. I guess not, he concluded. “Well I’m upwind of you,” he retorted. “Numbers don’t travel as well as words in the wind, and you know it.”
“Everyone knows that, of course.” She grinned provocatively. Her carnivorous eyes gazed over him, sweeping over his body shamelessly. A stare penetrating so deeply that damned if he couldn’t feel it, a kind of warmth.
“If you could just write them down for me,” he said, “we won’t ever have to worry about that again, will we?”
