Damaged Goods

"No. I mean, yeah I've had some boyfriends, but it never really got serious. I dumped one of them because he was a prick, but there wasn't anything wrong with the other two. We just never went anywhere."

This was a bit of a surprise to me. She was pretty, well, gorgeous if I was honest. And it looked like she was still outgoing and smart. In a place like this I would have expected her bloom to draw men to her like flies to honey.

"I do have a lot of friends, though," she added quickly, "you don't need to worry, I'm fine. Great. Better now."

She knew that my first concern would be that she had a good life here. We still understood each other so well.

"What happened to you? Did you get placed with a family like mine?" Jane asked with genuine interest. I resisted laughing, and went with my standard and well practiced line.

"I bounced around for a few years from foster family to family. I was kind of a troublemaker so they eventually put me with Billy. He's...well he's hard to describe in a few words. Let's just say he's weird, but kind. I love him like a father although he'd never want me to call him dad. What about you? Tell me about how you were such a pain in the ass?"

She had listened so intensely to what I had said and I knew that she had questions. I found that I wasn't ready to answer all of them yet, so I deflected. And I really did want to hear her story.

"Oh god," she said, smiling sheepishly, "I was such a little shit. Are you sure you want to hear this? It could take a little while..."

I nodded enthusiastically. I did. I doubted that she had been all that bad but I felt like there was a story here and I wanted to both hear it and hear her tell it. It was so unbelievably good to hear her voice, her laugh. As she started talking I suddenly found her hand touching mine, stroking it, eventually holding it. I figured it was just to make sure I was really there, but I'd be lying if I said that I didn't like it. Something inside me stirred that hadn't in a long time. I ignored it.

"So," she started, "They put me in this home for girls. Like bad girls, but not super bad. Medium-bad, I guess? There were thieves and I think a few had used drugs and most likely a couple of them had been pimped out. I fit right in though. I mean I'd stolen with mom before. And tried a few things with my friends."

She didn't need to add that no-one had pimped her out. I did my best to keep that from happening. We had both done our share of petty crime. I didn't know about the drugs, but I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. Shit was on every corner.

"Anyway, I get pulled straight out of bed and taken to this little room, with a sofa and a few chairs. And there they were, Beth and Harlan. They looked so nervous that I thought I was in trouble. I think that they had been warned about everything I'd been through so they were extra cautious. By then it had happened months ago. I wasn't over it but I wasn't crying about it every night either. I was surprised when they asked if I wanted to come home with them.

"They asked me questions and let me ask them questions. They seemed nice but I didn't really trust them. But they looked rich, so I decided to be a pain and see what they'd do. I told them I'd love to go with them but I wanted my brother with me. They weren't even told about you, so this surprised them. But they just looked at each other. For like a second, and then they said of course they'd try, but they couldn't promise anything.

"That's when I decided to try living with them. They were telling the truth, I could tell. And they did try to find you...but you were gone, and no one would try to bring you back to me. No one at any agency cared enough about you to even bend one rule. Beth was so apologetic, it actually made me feel bad.

"Janie loved to follow me around, and I didn't mind. She reminded me of the littles we used to look out for sometimes, and she's really smart and curious, so I became her babysitter sometimes. Karla seemed mean until I understood that she was trying to look out for me. One time Beth was getting on me about leaving my clothes in the hallway. I didn't think it was a big deal, I'd get them eventually and wash them myself. Beth was struggling with teaching me some pretty basic stuff. She got frustrated and it slipped out a little. She didn't even call me a name or anything and Karla was there telling her to leave me alone and that it wasn't a big deal. She was mad, too. It shocked both Beth and me.

"Things were ok, but I wasn't used to these rules. I know they're pretty normal, but I just didn't understand why I had to be back by 9 pm just because I was thirteen. I even told them I knew to look out for pimps and bangers but that just seemed to make them worry even more. I'd catch Beth and Harlan talking about me in whispers and they'd stop really quickly when I'd come into the room.

"So I trusted my sisters, but I was sure that Beth and Harlan were planning on returning me like a broken TV. I feel so stupid now. They were probably just worried about me. I didn't want to go back to the home so I decided I'd run. I left a note thanking everyone for being nice to me, especially my sisters. Then I waited until midnight and snuck out. It was really easy.

"What I didn't know was that dad checked up on us. All of us, every night. Like he just looked in and made sure we were ok. I would never have expected that. So he knew in like a half-hour that I was gone. And they were driving the streets looking for me. Him and Beth in separate cars. Karla stayed up in case I came back.

"Beth found me like a mile away. I thought I was heading back to the old neighborhood but it turns out I was going out of town. I was tired and it had started raining and I was pretty miserable. Beth pulled up and smiled at me, really gently. I got in the car and she drove me home.

"No one was even mad. I couldn't understand that. Everyone was just happy to see me and hugged me. They told me never to do it again and that they were trying to adopt me permanently and they loved me. They were worried that if I was caught out that late that I would be taken away from them, which is why they didn't call the cops. Now I felt really bad so I told them why I left, the real reason, not the lies I put in my letter.

"Things changed after that. I behaved myself. I started cleaning up after myself, and offered to babysit Janie whenever. We really got along by then. I told her stories from before they took me in, and about you. She was always curious about you, I think because she only had sisters. Karla helped me with homework and drove me places. I learned later that she had been a bit of a wild girl for a while, and when I showed up she changed to be a 'better example' for me.

"Beth became someone that I really trusted. After that night I really took to her, following her around and wanting her to teach me everything she knew about...well, everything. Harlan, dad, took the longest for me. I kept waiting for him to slip up and reveal he was like our dad. That never happened. You haven't met him yet, but he reminds me a little of you. He's patient, kind, and protective. After about a year I caught myself laughing at his dumb jokes and calling him daddy. He was so happy to hear that from me that I felt bad for ever being so cautious."

She'd stopped, and it took me a minute to realize that she'd said as much as she was going to. I didn't miss her compliment. I'd never thought of myself as patient or kind. Protective I guess. I knew I was blushing and I was suddenly very aware that I was holding her hand.

Her mom knocked and we jerked our hands back as if we were children who'd been caught doing something very naughty. Maybe we were.

"Dinner's ready," she said, peeking around the door with a smile.

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The Kiss

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Dinner was quiet at first, but then Harlan got home. I guess Beth had texted her husband about me in advance and he came over and I stood up and he shook my hand and then hugged me before.I could react. I laughed despite myself. After that it seemed like I was accepted. I was asked polite questions about myself and I answered as best as I could. I lied a little, but just to take the edge off my answers.

Jane (or Janie as she was known inside the family) laughed at my dumb jokes and asked questions about what Marilyn was like before she came here. I told the most embarrassing stories I knew. Entertaining things about a girl and her brother misbehaving, even breaking the law. Nothing that would shock middle-class sensibilities.

Karla asked me questions about myself and gave me and Marilyn significant looks. Again I answered mostly truthfully. It was ok to say that I "bounced around" foster homes and that some of them were "a little rough". The truth wouldn't do, at least not here. I couldn't tell if Karla was hitting on me or not. I guessed not, but then again, she did keep giving me little smiles. But she'd always look at Marilyn after that. I honestly couldn't figure her out, but she wasn't doing any harm.

Dinner ended too soon. It was Thursday so everyone had work or school. Everyone but me.

"Oh, please consider staying here. We have a guest room, it won't be any trouble..." Beth said.

I believed that she was being sincere, but that was too much of an imposition, even for me. And I needed time to think, to process today. Billy had taught me about that, about the power of contemplation. I think Marilyn probably needed the same thing, even if she did look sad that I was leaving.

"Well, I have the room at the hotel for tonight at least. After that, well," I trailed off, then looked at Marilyn, "Call me tomorrow, ok? After school? Don't rush or anything."

"Of course I'm going to call you. And you're going to stay for longer than you did tonight. Its only been like," she looked at the clock and stopped, "All right its been six hours, but still. You're not getting away from me this easily."

She was joking, but in her eyes I saw that she wasn't. I didn't blame her. If our positions were reversed I'd worry too.

"Walk me to my car, it's just around the corner."

"Ok," she said, excitedly, and grabbed her coat.

While I was there some weather had set in. Rain, and lots of it. It was cool, almost cold now, and I wished I had brought my jacket, but it had been an unseasonably warm fall day when I left for the courthouse this morning. That was another thing. The verdict was coming back tomorrow. I wanted to be alone when I heard that, good or bad news.

I waited outside for her, briefly, considering the way the day had gone. I wasn't used to his kind of positivity. It was dangerous. I could get used to it.

Marilyn stepped out on to the porch beside me. She still had that same, huge smile that she'd wore all night. She took my arm and put it around my shoulder; I guess she was still cold. We walked down the suburban, middle-class street like we belonged here. I guess she did. I didn't. But the companionable silence, the warm pressure of her leaning into me, it was all golden. I could never forget it even if I wanted to.

"Were you scared?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"Of what?"

"Of coming here. Finding me."

"Yeah. I was scared. I was scared it wouldn't be you. I was scared that it would be you but you wouldn't want to see me. Or that you'd forgotten me."

She stopped and half a step later I did too, turning to face her.

"I'd never do that. I love you. You have to believe that. Five years is nothing compared to that."

She was so serious, so determined that I believe her. I did.

"Fear isn't always rational. I mean, I love you at least as much as I did back then. Maybe more because I was missed you so goddamn much. Because I worried that you ended up...."

'Like me' was what I was about to say. I cut myself off. Now wasn't the time.

"Ended up what? In a bad home."

"Yes, I worried about that a lot. And I wasn't there to protect you, you know, like in the old days."

I hitched up a little when I said it. Her gaze softened, and she came forward and hugged me, holding me tightly. I held her too. As she pulled back I let my hands drop to either side of her waist. I was guiltily aware that this wasn't how a brother is supposed to hold his sister.

We looked deeply into each others eyes for the third time that day. This was different. I felt open, vulnerable to her. I felt that she could see all the things I was hiding. All the things I was feeling for her, right then. I thought that I could see those same things reflected back at me. My hands held her there, like that, for far too long. Although she didn't seem to mind, I suddenly realized that she couldn't move and loosened my grip.

I was about to step back and apologize when she went up on tip toes, kissing me on the lips, softly and slowly. This wasn't chaste or innocent. It was just contact, no more, but I felt memories rushing back to me, feelings, fears, regrets, and deeply buried desires. I was aware of the way her breasts felt pressed against me, so soft and firm. And the heat of her body. She finally drew back, achingly slowly. I wanted to follow her lips. I wanted to have my hands on her again. Instead, I held myself back. Barely.

"Oh, wow," she said, softly.

"Yeah."

"I'll see you tomorrow, ok? I love you."

She said it fast and nervous, then turned and walked quickly away, leaving me standing there. I'm glad she did. From the outside I'm sure I just looked like I was standing, staring into the distance. Inside I was wrecked, shaking and near collapse. Just from one, relatively innocent kiss. Jesus.

What was wrong with me?

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Billy

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The police officer had dragged me out of the back of the car, probably a little more gently than he might of normally. Billy was out on the old wooden porch. I was afraid that he was going to beat me. He had been patient with me so far, but I hadn't really gotten into trouble since I'd been here, except for some basic teenage backtalk. He was a big guy, tall and beefy, with a huge red beard. It was still twilight, so I could see the white of his teeth. Was he smiling?

"Here you go, Billy," the deputy said, "He got himself into a bit of a scuffle. Decided to start a fight with three young men down at the arcade."

He was right. Later I'd be friends with them. It was a dumb fight that I started for dumb reasons.

Billy laughed out loud as he stepped down and took my shoulder, as if physically taking custody from the officer. He waited and waved until the deputy drove away.

"Three of em, huh?" he laughed again, "How'd you do?"

"Um," I said, surprised by this reaction. "I got one on the ground but the other two got on either side of me..."

I didn't finish explaining because I didn't need to. My black eye, bloody nose, and rapidly forming bruises told the story for me.

"Well," he said calmly, "I'm guessing you're the sort that likes fightin' but doesn't much care if he wins or loses. That's not acceptable here. If you're gonna fight, I'm going to make sure you know how. Go get yourself cleaned up and go to bed. School starts tomorrow."

That got my attention. I did what he said. The next day he started teaching me his personal style of fighting. Which seemed ridiculous at the time, to me. Later I would learn that some of it was Krav Maga, some boxing, some esoteric karate from god-knows-where. It was, looking back, pretty practical. Enough to survive and win. Nothing flashy, nothing you could use in a ring or even an octagon. Brutal, effective, designed to take on multiple opponents and survive, if somewhat worse for wear.

Also he gave me a knife, which seemed irresponsible even to me, a violent juvenile delinquent. It wasn't l like a Bowie knife either, or a survival knife. It was straight, double-edged, with a wickedly sharp point. He called it a "Fairbarn". Later I'd learn that the skills he taught me dated back to world war two. I've never been able to get Billy to tell me where he learned it.

The secret though, the real secret, was that learning all this shit required exercise, repetition, and eventually, discipline. A lot of discipline. After I'd been there for about eight months, some drunk senior tried to start shit with me at an impromptu party down by the river. The insults were laughable, calling me an orphan or a criminal. No shit, I thought to myself, and brushed it off. In the past though, I would have fought him and probably lost. Now, I knew I could take him. Hell I knew just from looking at him that I could take his knee out and then do whatever the fuck I wanted to him. But I didn't want to. The idea seemed stupid. No gain for high risk.

That's how Billy worked. He wouldn't confront you. The kids who came to him were used to confrontation. He'd teach you what you'd want to know, sure. Fight, hunt, shoot, fix cars, whatever. Along the way he'd also teach you how to be calm, how to think, to contemplate. To plan, and budget. To look forward. To hope.

I still don't know if that last part was a good idea, but I love him all the same. He'd made me a better man despite my efforts to the contrary.

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The Day Of

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I woke up the next day feeling confused and scared. Where was I? What was this place? I stood up and looked for the exit. I stopped. I did what I was taught. Closed my eyes. Breathed deep. Counted to ten, then back to one. Still worked up, but in control, I realized that I was in my room.

It wasn't awful. It was, all things considered, pretty nice. Billy had paid for it, and he insisted that I stay away from a motel this time and get a decent room where I could feel important. Even if only for a week. I appreciated the thought but I felt just as insignificant as normal. The chain I was staying at called it a "suite" but I'm pretty sure that it was exactly like all the other rooms. That being said, it was nicer than I'd ever stayed at. There was a bedroom with a king size, a living room with a couch and its own tv, even a kitchenette with a fridge and a stove. The bathroom was really decadent in my view. Who needs a bathtub that could fit two people?

I hadn't thought that question through. I imagined it with myself and...someone else, in it. It was a powerful thought and I had to work to slow my heart down again. I was a wreck. I hadn't even drunk last night.

I'd come back, watched some true crime shows, tried not to think of her, thought of her anyway, jerked off, and went to sleep feeling sick with guilt. What kind of a brother was I, really? Could I really say that I was her protector, if I wanted to...to fuck her? I even had a hard time thinking the word.

My phone chirped. It was old, but still smart. Billy bought it used and showed me how to repair it. I had no complaints with it. Not a voice mail, but a text.

"The parole board has reached a verdict in the case of your relative..." blah blah blah. Jesus it was a three paragraph text telling me to click a link to find out the result. What was wrong with these fuckers? Do they like building suspense?

I clicked the link.

"We regret to inform you..." oh fuck.

I stoped, counted to ten and then back again. I was here. I could protect her. I would kill him if I had to. I knew how and I might even get away with it.

"...that your relative has been denied parole. He has been deemed to have been unreformed and will be up for parole again in five years from this day, ..."

Goddamn form letters. They sent me a link to a generic website meant for all relatives. No need to worry that the parolee murdered my fucking mother. I laughed and cried with relief. He'd be in there for another five years. At least. Maybe more. I was still recovering when my phone blew up.