The Lonely Girl

He pushed the thoughts from his mind. He had to get to work and was already bordering on being late. He started the truck and headed out of the parking lot.

As Kyle drove down Main Street, he appreciated the fact that this town still had an old-school town center. There was even a cobbler two stores down from his mom's shop. He was so amazed that fixing shoes was still a thing that he had Googled cobblers one evening after work and went down a rabbit hole of YouTube videos watching the artisans ply their trade. It made more sense when he watched one of the craftsmen fix a pair of shoes he called Louboutin that some rich ladies teacup dog had chewed up. He almost dropped his laptop when he mentioned offhand that the shoes cost twelve-hundred dollars new. He wondered if the cobbler two doors down perhaps needed and apprentice.

He laughed silently to himself as that definitely was not on the list of dream jobs he thought of while growing up. Then again, neither was making pasta in his mother's Italian deli, but it gave them a chance to bond and try and heal.

He pulled behind the buildings and parked in the employee lot, grabbed the grocery bag off his passenger seat and trotted towards the back entrance. Walking in he noticed his mother was already putting the flour in the mixer.

"Hi Mom"

"Hi Sweetie, did they have everything we needed?"

"Yeah, no issues. I got everything you asked."

"I'm still not sure how a food supply company can screw up a condiment order...twice! But I appreciate you heading over there this morning."

"You're welcome. I can take over on the mixer, I know you have other stuff to do."

"Thanks Sweetie, I appreciate it."

Kyle spent the morning making the pasta dough, then the fillings for the various raviolis, agnolottis and other filled pastas they sold. He had just finished blending the last of the meat fillings in a food processor when John walked into the deli on his lunch break. Calling John a friend may have been a stretch in Kyles mind at present, but they were probably on the journey towards that. They had seen each other around a few times once Kyle got back from college and had occasionally shared a beer together when they happened to be in the same bar on the infrequent times Kyle would decide to go out.

John ordered a sandwich from their menu board. Most of the ingredients in the sandwich were typical, but the homemade pesto they put on it made it pop.

He walked to the other end of counter to where Kyle's mom was putting the finishing touches on another customer's order.

"Hi Ms. Scott, how are you today?"

He had found it amusing the first time he came in the store and met Kyle's mom. She looked Italian, but the last name didn't fit. He asked Kyle about it over a beer one night and Kyle had explained that it was his father's last name. She didn't hate his father so didn't mind keeping the last name after the divorce. Besides she remembered what a pain in the ass the name change was when she got married and didn't want to go through that again.

She had just finished wrapping the last sandwich and turned towards him.

"Oh, hi John. I'm well thanks."

"Is Kyle here?"

"Yeah, he's in the back."

"Does he have a minute to talk?"

"You can go back and talk to him."

"You sure Ms. Scott, I don't want to be in the way."

"You won't be in the way hon. Go on back."

"Thanks Ms. Scott."

John walked behind the counter and through the door. Kyle was cutting pasta balls into sizes manageable enough to put through the past roller when John entered.

"Yo, what's up Kyle!"

"Hey man, what are you doing here?"

"Popped in for a sandwich and to support your mom's deli."

"Well I appreciate it. So you're on your lunch break?"

"Yeah, we're fixing the potholes on the other side of the square today, so I could walk over. But I wanted to ask what you're up to Friday night? Me and a few of the guys are gonna get together for a beer or two at the Smokey's Figured I'd see if you wanted to join us?"

"Yeah, maybe...listen, do you remember that girl Claire from high school?"

John scrunched his face up slightly while he thought.

"Claire? Oh wait! Do you mean the quiet girl you got in trouble for when you did your whole white knight routine?"

Kyle furrowed his brow at the comment and practically growled his comment back at John:

"I wouldn't call protecting a girl that was being fucking physically assaulted white knighting."

The sudden change in demeanor had John backing up half a step. He put his hands up almost in surrender and said: "Hey man, I wasn't even there. I just heard that you gave that kid a beating of epic proportions because he was picking on her. I don't even remember him coming back to school for the rest of the year."

"Yeah" was all Kyle could get out. It was a memory he didn't want to hold onto.

John tilted his head and looked past Kyle for a moment in thought, "I think I remember hearing something about her parents passing away a few years ago...at least I'm pretty sure it was her parents."

"Really? Do you know how they died?"

"I think it was a plane crash...yeah, some kind of small plane and the wing fell off. They crashed into the ocean and I think everyone on board died."

"Did anyone go to the funeral?" Kyle asked.

"No one I knew. I think I found out about a few weeks after it happened. I don't know anyone that was really friends with her that would have gone anyway."

"Our class wasn't that big...you don't know anyone that's friends with her?"

"Honestly no. I know a lot of kids were mean to her over the years. So she really just kept to herself."

"You?"

John gave Kyle a perplexed look, "Me, what?"

"Where you ever mean to her?" There was the slightest hint of Malice in Kyle's question.

"Not me, you know how I am, I try to get along with everyone. I didn't involve myself in that shit...why all the questions about her all of the sudden anyway?"

Kyle paused for a moment and looked at the floor. "I saw her today." He stated as if he was reliving the moment.

"You saw Claire? Where? I didn't even think she lived around here anymore. I know I haven't seen her since high school."

"I bumped into her at the market."

"Huh, if she's still on that spread outside of town."

"What spread?"

"Her parents bought a couple of hundred acres outside of town on 513. I think they bought it when we were all little kids. Way before you got here. I remember my parents talking about it years later, that some of the locals were worried they were developers and were going to build a bunch of McMansions out there. But I think they just built a house on the property and kept to themselves."

Kyle was now very curious, "Where out on 513?"

"After the junction with 14 I think."

"There's nothing after the junction with 14. It's all woods."

"Exactly...that was all her parents. Past 14 there is one driveway, which I assume is theirs...or Claire's now I guess."

Kyle's mom poked her head through the door, "John, your sandwich is ready hon."

"Thanks Ms. Scott!" He turned back to Kyle "I'll text you about Friday."

"Ok, thanks."

*****

John went back out front and Kyle was left thinking about Claire. As much as he wished he could forget the incident he knew it was impossible. He still remembered the look on her face. The blank expression. The way her frail body held the books to her chest in an almost protective embrace. The way the rest of the students were standing around laughing and filming on their phones. Then he remembered the horrible things that came out of the boy's mouth, and finally the boy slamming his hand down on top of the books and folders she carried, knocking them to the ground.

To this day Kyle didn't know if the memories he had after that moment were his, or just recreations based on other people's recollections. What he did know is that he hit the boy hard enough with the first punch to break his nose and cause blood to pour out of it. He hit him so hard with the second punch that he broke his orbital bone and sprayed those in the vicinity with the blood that was leaking from his nose. He was told later that it took three male teachers and two seniors from the football team to hold him back. That part he definitely did not remember.

He did remember riding the back of the police car however. He remembered his mother on the phone in the kitchen pleading with the lawyer after he told her that the boy's father wanted him charged with attempted murder. Thinking about the incident years later, the father had a point. If Kyle hadn't been dragged away, he probably would have killed him.

The next few days were a blur to him. Although he did remember how anguished his mother was and the shame it caused him to put his mother through this after everything else they had already been through together.

He remembered her anguish turning into elation when the lawyer called and told her that all the charges were being dropped. Evidently the video of the incident made it to the boy's father. A man who had grown up watching his father beat his mother on a regular basis until she woke he and his brother up in the middle of the night and left town with them. Kyle found out much later that the father had to be removed from the hospital because he was screaming at his son for what he did to Claire and that if Kyle hadn't already beaten him, he would have done it himself.

Kyle knew where this story led. He didn't want to go. The memory of what he did to that kid was enough. But the memories were indelibly linked. It was an opening in his mind with no door to close.

He remembered walking in the house he had grown up in and calling for his sister. She had been coming right home after school lately due to the issues she was having, and he wanted to check on her.

He remembered how bratty most of his friends' little sisters were. But that wasn't Charlie. She was sweet and bubbly and innocent in a way most eighth graders weren't...and she adored her older brother. The gentle giant football player that never minded having to drive his little sister to see her friends or help her with her homework.

He remembered climbing the stairs and thinking that he would offer to take her for some ice cream to cheer her up. He rapped on the door twice and opened it. It was probably less than a second that he looked at her bed noticing she wasn't on it when something in his periphery caught his attention. It was like being in a car crash when everything goes into slow motion. His head slowly turned towards her closet. Her face was a sickly shade of blue. Kyle covered the distance in one giant step. He grabbed her little body and held it up with one arm while he struggled to undo the rope.

In what order he called 911 and his parents and tried the CPR he learned in health class that year he couldn't say, but he did remember doing all those things. After that the only thing that stuck in his mind was the wailing of his mother. It was a sound he had never heard a human make before. Even the movies could not imitate the despair that her cries held. He would hear that sound in his nightmares after that.

After the funeral concluded and he and the other pallbearers were carrying her casket out a bagpiper started playing Amazing Grace. Kyle never knew if it was his parents or another family member that had him come play. What he did know is that was the moment where it came crashing down for him. He sobbed uncontrollably and stumbled away from the casket, almost unable to see through the tears. His parents came and held him and cried with him.

*****

His sweet sister Charlotte was gone. Hounded to death by a pack of catty girls. Her crime evidently was mentioning in passing that she thought a particular boy in their grade was cute. This boy was one of a string of boys liked by one of the girls in the pack. When they found out about Charlotte's comment, they made her the target of their venom.

At first, they just taunted her in a way only mean girls can. Charlie came home crying one day and confessed to her mother what was going on. This was eventually relayed to Kyle who was wondering why his sister was not her usual bubbly self. While he was extremely protective of his sister, what could he possibly do? He couldn't beat up a bunch of eighth grade girls, so he just doted on her more. This, along with another week of time passing and Charlie seemed to be returning to her old self.

Kyle got home from school on Thursday to see both his parent's cars in the driveway which was unusual. He went into the house and heard his parents conferring quietly in the kitchen. When he entered the kitchen, his mothers' face was plastered with worry. She was actually wringing her hands and he could never remember seeing her in a state like this. His fathers' jaw was set in a way that he knew from the past, when he had done something particularly stupid to anger him. Turning towards him, the look of confusion and concern on his face caused their features to soften.

He looked back and forth between them and asked "What's going on?" with a bit of fear in his voice.

His mother looked at him with sympathy and said, "Your sister was in a fight."

Kyle's father immediately countered with a bit of venom in his voice, "It wasn't a fight, it was an attack."

"Who would attack Charlie?" But just as the question left his lips he knew.

"The girls that have been bullying her." His mother replied.

"Wait, girls? Meaning more than one?"

"Yes, evidently there were a few involved...we don't know how many...Charlie wasn't certain."

In that moment it all made sense to Kyle. He had seen it firsthand. He was tall, athletic, good looking and thus was in the loose clique of popular kids in high school. He was known by most as a gentle giant. He was also gifted academically. When he was younger he almost exclusively hung out with the kids that would later be thought of as the nerds and dorks. He hung out with many of them still when time allowed. But his athletic gifts meant that the circles he hung out in expanded to include the jocks and "popular" kids. He found many of them to be nice people and great to hang around with...but stereotypes exist for a reason and some of them could be downright cruel. To each other, for sure, but especially to anyone they thought were beneath them in the social hierarchy...and the girls were by far the worse when it came to their cruelty. Many of them tried to court Kyle, but seeing the way they treated the friends of his they deemed "lesser" than themselves, he gently declined their advances.

The eight-grade equivalent of this clique had now attacked his sister. He was rethinking his earlier opinion about not beating up eight-grade girls. When his mother's voice brought him back to the present, "Kyle, why don't you go check on Charlie. We tried, but I think she's really embarrassed and just wanted to be left alone."

"Sure, Mom"

Kyle walked out of the kitchen, down the hall and bounded up the stairs two at a time. He approached the door to Charlie's room. He quickly looked at the sign that hung on her door. A painting of a dolphin leaping from the ocean with "Charlie" painted above it in bright colors, curling over the dolphin's body. He remembered helping Charlies open the paints, showing her how to stay in the lines that had been stenciled on the board. Then helping her clean the paint brushes she had used. She had been so proud when she brought it back home. The art teacher had sprayed varnish over it to protect the image. Charlie had detailed to him how the other kids all went outside the lines and looked terrible compared to hers.

Kyle knocked on the door and softly called his sister, "Charlie, can I come in?"

There was no response, so Kyle opened the door and peeked in. His sister was curled up in a ball on her bed, facing away from the door. Her stuffed animals surrounding her like she was in a cocoon. Kyle walked around the bed and knelt on the floor, laying his chin down on the bed. He pushed some hair covering her face away and Charlie turned her head further into the pillow.

"Come on Charlie, look at me"

His sister simply whimpered.

"Charlie, I'm here for you...talk to me" he said softly.

Charlies slowly pushed herself up and sat Indian style facing Kyle. Her head bowed and her hair covering her face. Kyle straightened up slightly and with both hands pushed his sister's straight hair over her ears so he could look at her. He noticed how red her eyes were immediately. Of course, she had been crying. But then he noticed the yellowing on her cheek. The abrasions on the other and the small cut above her eyebrow.

Then only thing that held back the tears that Kyle could feel were quickly building in his eyes was the knowledge that him crying would probably just upset her more. He pushed back his emotions and smiled at his sister.

"Tell me what happened Charlie."

"I don't want to talk about it." She said so softly it was almost a whisper.

"Ok, I won't make you talk about it, but I don't want you just sitting here by yourself. So can I hang here with you for a while?"

"Sure." She said with a slight nod of her head.

Kyle helped her lay back down. He sat on the bed and gently petted her hair. In a little while, he could tell she had fallen asleep by the way her breathing slowed and had become more rhythmic.

Kyle gently got off the bed and headed out of his sister's room. Taking time to quietly close the door on the way out. He headed back downstairs where his parents had moved into the family room. They were both just sitting there, not speaking but seemingly lost in their own thoughts.

In the short time it took Kyle to leave Charlie's room and come downstairs, his sorrow over his sister was being replaced by anger, which was now bordering on rage. Kyle's firm but quiet tone shook his parents from their stupor.

"What's going to happen to the girls that did that to Charlie?"

His father ignored his question, "How is she?"

"She's sleeping." But Kyle wasn't going to let it go. "What's going to happen? Are they getting expelled?"

"They are saying it was a fight between two girls and thus, both parties are culpable." Of course. This is what they did. He had seen it himself on many occasions. They would pounce on their victim like a horde of jackals. When the school would intervene, they would scatter. If any were questioned, they would protect each other and offer each other alibis. He could tell by his father's tone that he didn't believe it either.

"Dad, that's fucking bullshit! Look at Charlie's face! She was attacked!"

His father's face hardened, and Kyle immediately knew he had crossed a line.

"Keep your voice down so that you don't wake your sister...and I understand how angry you are. I'm angry too, but don't you ever speak like that in this house again."

His tone told Kyle that the discussion was over, and his father would not tolerate any further backtalk.

Kyle went to his room and just laid on his bed staring at the ceiling. Eventually his parents called him down to dinner. Charlie didn't want to join them, so Kyle took his plate and a plate for Charlie to her room. She mostly picked at her food but did eat a little which is about the most Kyle could have hoped for. He cleaned up their plates and came back to keep her company.

"You don't have to stay here Kyle, I'll be fine."

"Of course I have to stay here. You're my little sister and I'm going to protect you."

Charlie had always believed that. She had believed with all her heart that her brother would always protect her, because he always had...but this was different. This was something he couldn't shield her from. He couldn't come to school with her. He couldn't fend off the hateful comments she had endured. The last few weeks had shown her that no matter how loved and safe she felt at home, the rest of the world could be cruel. It was a lesson that no thirteen-year-old should have to learn.