Part 18 (1/2)

He stopped pacing, suddenly, and asked, ”Why don't you get along with your mother?”

I held my breath. She must have said something to him before I came up here.

She took a deep breath and replied, ”A few things, I guess. You know we lived in China most of my high school years? My parents ... they went through a rough time for a while, especially the first two years. And I ... I went through the worst experience in my life, and needed help, and didn't get it from her. Later on, when things got really bad after we came back to the States, it was like she judged me, you know? She didn't take the time to find out my side of the story, or listen, or be ... a mom. Instead it was all about controlling me and sometimes saying things that made me feel bad about myself. Really bad. All the while, I was protecting her.”

Sean started pacing again. This was his way of working out his energy, but sometimes it had the opposite effect, winding him up even more. I wasn't sure what was happening here, because this was as real a conversation as I'd ever heard him have. He never talked about this stuff with us, that was for sure.

”My mom used to cry at night,” he said. ”All the time. I could hear her down the hall, and sometimes when she was crying, it was about me. Like I was a broken toy, and she wanted to return me to the store. Or get me fixed. Every day it was another doctor, and she would tell them all about what was wrong with me.”

She looked up at him, her hair falling away from her face. ”That must have been really hard.”

”I want ... I-” He couldn't continue the sentence.

”You want your mother to love you the way you are?”

”Yes!” he cried out. And the d.a.m.nedest thing was, I could hear the sadness, the emotion in his voice. My brother, who was always, always monotone, unless he was angry. ”Why won't she just accept me for who I am?”

He stopped pacing suddenly and slumped down to the floor next to her.

She answered, ”Sometimes ... I think parents work so hard to keep us from making their mistakes, they won't allow us to make our own. I mean ... your mother loves you and wants the best for you. Anyone can see that. But she doesn't know how to say it, except ... to push.”

”Can you really see it? I don't.”

”Watch her expression.”

”I don't ... I don't read expressions very well. They tried to teach me. My mother used to take me to social skills cla.s.ses and teachers. They'd show me pictures with little round stick figure faces, and I had to say what the expression was. This person is happy. This person is sad. But those were not real people. I look at real people, and I've got no idea what they think. What do you see?”

She turned to him, her expression somber. ”I think your mother may be the saddest person I've ever seen.”

He stared at the floor, and I could see the anger in his posture-his shoulders were hunched and his hands bunched into fists. ”Because of me.”

”No, I don't think so,” Julia replied. ”There's something else there. Yeah, tonight made her sad ... it broke her heart. But, there's something else, and I don't know what it is.”

”You understand people,” he said.

”Yes and no,” she said and then sighed. ”I've been ... we used to move all the time. Every three years, off to another country, another school, another life. And as the years went by, I got more and more isolated; it was harder and harder to make friends. I had to learn to read people pretty quickly. But when I started high school, I thought that was over.”

”What happened?” he asked.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head against her knees. Then she said, ”You have to promise not to tell anyone what I say. None of it. Especially Crank.”

He blinked. Sean didn't make promises easily, because he knew how painful it was to have them broken. He thought about it, then said, ”I promise.”

She looked up and smiled weakly, but it wasn't a real smile, because a couple of tears were running down her face. ”I don't talk about this much. But when I was fourteen, we moved to China. I went to this fantastic school there, where all the diplomatic kids from England and Australia and the US went. And I met this boy. He was a lot older than me. He was a senior, and I was a freshman.”

She shuddered. ”I thought I was in love with him. I was stupid, and inexperienced, and terribly vulnerable. And he took advantage of all my weaknesses.”

Sean's forehead compressed into angry ridges. ”Did he rape you?”

She shook her head. ”Not really. I didn't say no. I didn't ... I didn't do anything. He kept saying if I loved him, I should want to make him happy. And that went on for a while, but I wasn't ready. Not in any way. It was like he ... like he dominated everything I did. He'd get mad if I talked to other boys in cla.s.s, and one time he squeezed my arm so hard it left bruises. I was afraid of him. And then ... I got pregnant.”

Sean was openmouthed. And I knew I should walk away, I should not be listening to this conversation, especially after she'd made him promise not to tell me about it. But I'm ashamed to say I stayed. I wanted to know about her. I wanted to know everything about her.

”So, right before Christmas, he took me ... somewhere in Beijing. It's a huge city. Unbelievably huge. I was lost. There was a doctor there, and no one spoke English. I didn't even fully understand what was going on. So while I was in the exam room, having my insides sc.r.a.ped out by some doctor, he left.”

She looked bleak as she spoke the words. I didn't know what to think, except that if I ever saw the b.a.s.t.a.r.d who did that to her, I'd kill him. But she kept talking, and it just got worse.

”I finally got out of there ... it was late afternoon and snowing. And I didn't speak much more Chinese than 'Where's the bathroom?' No one in that part of the city spoke English. I was lost and terrified and bleeding and ... it was a nightmare.”

”What happened?” Sean asked.

She shrugged. ”I finally found my way home. It was almost midnight, and my parents grounded me. And I tried to put my life back together. But my senior year, when I was in Bethesda, word got out.”

Oh, G.o.d, I thought, closing my eyes.

”How?” Sean asked.

I opened my eyes. She smiled bitterly. ”My best friend and I got into a fight right before I left China. And she emailed the story to everyone at our school, but twisted it. She had a picture. I don't know where she got it. But it was me, and I was drunk ... and ... anyway. One thing led to another, and the story got out with the students at my new school.”

”Were they mean?”

She nodded. Her eyes were watery, bloodshot. ”Yes. I know some people have worse problems, and it seems trivial. But I would walk down the halls, and hear them whisper, s.l.u.t and wh.o.r.e, and worse. Every day. No one would talk to me. No one would even be civil. And my mother-you have to understand, we were supposed to be in Russia. It was supposed to be the crown of my father's career, as Amba.s.sador to Russia. But because of the rumors, one of the Senators blocked his appointment for two years. So my parents weren't very understanding. I went home every night that year, locked myself in my room, and cried myself to sleep. I promised myself I'd never trust anyone again.”

d.a.m.n, I thought, looking in. Her story was near enough to bringing me to tears, and a look in showed that Sean was crying. ”Sometimes I feel like killing people who do stuff like that,” he said, his tone vicious. ”They do the same stuff to me sometimes. Call me names. Push me around.”

She put her right arm around his shoulder. Usually, when someone touches Sean, he moves away and quickly. He didn't this time. ”It gets better.”

”How?” he asked, his voice full of grief.

”Time,” she said. ”Distance.”

”But you said you'd never trust anyone again. Why did you tell me?”

She gave him a sad smile. ”Because you're special. You're just like me. So I know I can trust you.”

He didn't answer right away. It was like he was processing what she said, trying to make sense of it. To be honest, I was too.

After a couple minutes of silence, the two of them just sitting together, he said, ”Last year, on my birthday, my dad gave me Grandpa's first police hat. And I wore it, all the time. The kids at school made fun of me. I know it was stupid. n.o.body at school wears things like that. But I liked it. When I was little I wanted to be a cop, like my dad. But one day, they grabbed me and pulled me in the bathroom, and stuffed it down the toilet.”

I could see his fists clenched as he told the story, and his face was screwed up: angry, eyes narrowed, eyebrows drawn down. He looked like he wanted to slam a fist through a wall.

”What happened?” she asked.

”I got suspended for a week because I fought back. That's what always happens. They can push me around or hit me and get away with it, but if I do anything, I get punished. It's not even just at school. When Dad's National Guard unit was activated after September 11, I had to go live with Grandpa for a while. And he was just the same. I hate them.”

Jesus. I knew it was bad for him. But I didn't know it was that bad.