Ain't No Sunshine Page 7

  "If you change your mind, I'll understand," Ruthie said as she walked me to my truck. "If you don't come tonight, I'll have my answer and I won't hold it against you."

  "Nothing could stop me from being with you."

  When I got home my father was waiting for me. He sat in the recliner next to the television and stared into nothingness. I probably could have slipped right past him and gone to my room without him even noticing. But for some reason I felt the need to stand up to him. I was entering a new stage in my life with Ruthie. If I wasn't strong enough to tell my father of my intentions, how would I ever be able to face all the obstacles that Ruthie and I would face?

  “Ruthie and I are getting married,” I said, bracing myself for the imminent abuse. I started to look around for something I could use for self-defense. I spotted a lamp, a vase, and the same broomstick that he had used on me. That would be poetic justice. That's what I would reach for first. I planned how I would pin him down and demand that he leave me and Ruthie alone.

  But he didn't attack me. He didn't even move from his chair. He just folded his hands together and stared into the distance.

  "You can't marry her. It's illegal," he said calmly - too calmly.

  "No, it's not. Anti-miscegenation laws were repealed in Virginia in 1968."

  He shook his head.

  "Even if it was still illegal, I would do it anyway. I love her and I'm not letting you or anyone else keep me from her anymore. I don't care that she's Negro -"

  "It's not because she's Negro!" he yelled, interrupting me. He stood up and tried to use his size to intimidate me, but I was taller than him. I was proud for a moment that I wasn't afraid of him. I straightened my back and met his evil glare. He bit his bottom lip in frustration. He realized his normal scare tactics weren't going to work this time. He opened his mouth to say something and nothing came out. I wondered what he could possibly say to try to convince me to no longer love Ruthie.

  He opened his mouth again and blurted, "It's not because she's Negro. It's because...I'm her father. You two are half brother and sister."

  Chapter 16

  Saying it out loud brought back all the emotion from that night. I felt sick to my stomach. I thought I might throw up right there in the interrogation room. I noticed a look of disgust on Lieutenant Drake's face. He took a deep breath and tried to remain professional.

  "So, Theodore was Ruthie's father. That's why he'd always had a special interest in her."

  I nodded and then I gagged a little.

  "Ray, can we get the kid some water?" Lieutenant Drake called through the door.

  Seconds later an officer handed me a glass of lukewarm water. I thought about Ruthie as I drank. I wondered if she was in the next room giving her version of events. Of course she didn't know anything about that night. I had spared her the details.

  "Thanks," I said, placing the empty glass on the table. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was.

  We sat in silence for a moment as I tried to block out images of my past.

  Lieutenant Drake closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. I had been talking for three hours and he still wasn't any closer to figuring out who killed my father.

  "So is that why you killed him? Not for the years of abuse, but because he told you Ruthie was your..." He trailed off, not even able to finish the sick thought.

  "I should have killed him that night. Right then and there. I should've taken that broomstick and jabbed it through his throat. That would've made me feel better."

  "But you didn't." He crossed his arms and studied me. "You must have been pretty angry."

  I glared at the lieutenant. "I was beyond angry. For sixteen years, that man sat back and watched me fall in love with her. He didn't say a word. He just let it happen. And then with one phrase - she's your sister - he took away everything that meant anything to me."

  He nodded in agreement, trying to understand how I felt. "So why didn't you kill him then?"

  I shrugged. "I wanted to. I tried. My mother stopped me."

  Lieutenant Drake took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Tell me about what happened."

  Chapter 17

  "That's not true." I said the words but I didn't believe them, even though they left my own mouth. Everything started to make sense. My father only had a problem with Ruthie when he saw me close to her. And all these years he had taken such good care of her. He wasn't obsessed with her. He loved her. He loved her more than he loved me.

  "I had an affair with her mother," he said.

  My stomach clenched. It was true. I didn't want to believe it, but in my heart I knew it. I hunched over and vomited on the living room floor. My father stood over me silently. I couldn't see his face but I had the feeling that he enjoyed my pain.

  When the convulsions stopped, I clutched my stomach and felt the room spin. I couldn't breathe. My legs turned to liquid as I fell to my knees, soiling my pants with my own bile.

  "It wasn't my fault," my father said. "She made me fall in love with her."

  "What...what are you...talking about?" I asked, momentarily forgetting everything and everyone around me.

  My father rubbed his hands together as if he was worried. Something about the truth disturbed him. As if he was afraid for anyone to find out. "Mabel. Ruthie's mother." He started pacing the living room. "She was a nigger. She was supposed to be dumb, lazy, and nasty. But she wasn't any of those things. She was beautiful, smart, and talented. Did you know she was a singer? She had a beautiful voice."

  I didn't want to hear any of this. Every word he said to me felt like a dagger, slowly stabbing the life out of me.

  "Mabel was your mother's governess," he continued, sitting down on the couch. He suddenly had a nostalgic look in his eyes as he remembered Ruthie's mother. "She moved to town with Marjorie's family. Your mother was a shy, boring, pathetic excuse for a woman. Mabel was the only person she'd talk to. I asked Marjorie out, knowing she would insist Mabel come as a chaperone. Mabel was an enchantress. It wasn't my fault that I fell in love with her."

  He stood and paced the living room. "I was the choir director of my father's church at that time. Somehow I convinced him to let Mabel sing with the whites. Every week she stole hearts with her voice. People started coming from miles away just to hear her."

  Why was he telling me this? I didn't want to know. I wanted to leave, but I felt like my knees were glued to the carpet. I couldn't move.

  "Soon, my father figured out my feelings for Mabel. He tried to beat it out of me. Then he tried to send her away. I couldn't let that happen. So I married your mother in a rushed ceremony a week later. I don't know why your mother agreed to it. I like to think Mabel convinced her. They both moved in after the ceremony. That was Mabel's way of staying close to me. I know it. I know she loved me, too."

  I put my face in my hands and shook my head. I didn't want to know. I should have just run away with Ruthie without telling him of our plans. If I didn't know about this dark secret, everything would be okay. It wouldn't matter. But now that I knew, nothing would ever be the same. Unless this was what he wanted. Maybe he was making it up. It was a trick to keep me away from Ruthie.

  "You're lying. You're lying," I said over and over again. "You're not her father. You just don't want us to be together."

  He shook his head. "It's the truth. She's my daughter. You're my son. I've told you all your life to stay away from her. You should have listened to me." My father stood up. He stood straight and held his head high as if he was completely free from guilt. In his mind he had done nothing wrong. He strutted toward the kitchen as if the conversation was over.

  The revulsion building in my stomach abated momentarily, only to be replaced with wrath. "You're blaming me?” I glared at him. He must have felt the fire in my gaze because he stopped and turned around. He was surprised by my vicious tone. "You watched me fall in love with her. For sixteen years you sat back and let it happen." I found some inner reserve of strength and got to my feet. "Al
l you had to do was tell us. Just once. How could you do this?" I stood in front of him, towering over his middle-aged, slightly overweight form. A bead of sweat formed over his eyebrow.

  "You best remember who you are, boy." He raised his hand and landed an open-handed slap across my face. Normally, that simple act of brutality would be enough to shut me up. In the past I would have apologized for my tone and headed for my room. Or I would have removed my shirt and waited for him to bring out the whip. But not this time. Something in me had changed. I didn't feel the sting of the slap. I didn't feel sorry for what I'd said.

  I felt nothing.

  I stared into his eyes. I saw the fear and evil behind them.

  "You raped her, didn't you? She didn't love you. No one could love you. You raped her."

  His eyes expanded. "I did no such thing." He raised his hand to me again. This time it was a fist coming toward me, but I caught it in midair. His face twisted in pain as I squeezed his fingers together. I pushed his fist into his face. He stumbled backwards and fell against the wall.

  I picked up a lamp and raised it above my head. I was going to bash his brains in, right there on the spot.

  "Stephen," my mother said softly. Suddenly she was standing right beside me.

  I froze.

  "Don't do it, baby."

  "Why not? He deserves it."

  She shook her head. "You don't want to live with that burden."

  "I don't want to live at all." I dropped the lamp and went to my room.

  Chapter 18

  I lost count of the days I missed from school. Nothing mattered anymore. Ruthie made no attempts to call or come over. I remembered her saying that if I didn't show up that night she'd have her answer about my feelings for her. She probably thought I was too scared to stand up to my father and marry her. If that's what she thought, it was better than the truth.

  I came to certain realizations about my life as I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. First and foremost was that I had no life. I had no goals, no desires, and no future without Ruthie. She was my everything. All my life I imagined we would somehow be together. She was all I had ever wanted. Without her, I was nothing. I had no idea how I would pass the days. What would I think about? What would I do? Who would I talk to? Besides Ruthie, I didn't even have any friends. I had no hobbies, no likes or dislikes, no personality. All my life I had defined myself through Ruthie. Now that I couldn't have her, I had no idea who I was.

  "You have to eat," my mother said, suddenly appearing in my room. But then again, she could have been there for hours and I might not have noticed. "You haven't eaten in three days.”

  I rolled over and stared at her. I really looked at her and studied her as I never had before. She was my mother. She was supposed to love me. She seemed to be a caring person. How could she let this happen?

  "Did you know, Mother? Did you know he was her father?"

  She looked away. "Yes," she said simply, her head hanging low.

  I was too weak to get angry. I just rolled over and turned my back to her.

  She reached out and stroked the back of my head. "Look, baby, it doesn't matter. Just run away with her like you planned. No one will ever suspect you're brother and sister."

  How could she even suggest such a thing? The thought sickened me. How would I be able to look at myself every day, knowing that I willingly slept with my sister? I couldn't live like that.

  Determined never to tell Ruthie, I preferred to let her hate me than to know the truth. I didn't want her to live with the guilt.

  Eventually, I went back to school. I don't even remember how I got there. I walked around in a fog. People had to call my name three or four times before I acknowledged them.

  Seeing her in the hallway abruptly awakened me from my mindless stupor. She was completely different. There was an air about her like she had matured overnight. And she was hanging off the arm of Anthony Everson, the star running back of the football team. He was groping and touching her right in front of everyone. When I saw him kiss her, I lost it. I ran toward him and tackled him to the floor. How dare he kiss her? We rolled around the hall for a while and then somehow tumbled out the front door and down the steps.

  I felt something in my body crack, but I didn't let that stop me. All my built-up anger and aggression exploded onto unsuspecting Anthony, just because he happened to touch my girlfriend - I mean, my sister. Ruthie tried to stop us and pull me off of him, but she was too little to have any effect.

  "Break it up. Break it up!" Julius said, pulling me away. He had to use all his strength to keep me from going after Anthony again. "Stephen, man, you need to chill out before the principal or, worse, the police come."

  I tried to scramble away from him and get another punch in, but Julius wouldn't let go.

  "Stay away from her! She's mine!" I yelled like a raging lunatic.

  Julius dragged me away from the front steps of the school.

  "Man, I don't know what the hell is wrong with you, but you need to get out of here and calm down," Julius said once we got about a block away from school and he finally let me go.

  Ruthie was right behind him.

  "God, Stephen, you're bleeding," she said, stepping forward and reaching for my face. I turned away from her.

  "That's the cops," Julius said looking down the street at a police car turning into the school parking lot. "Run!"

  Julius took off in one direction and I headed to the woods. I probably didn't need to run. Since I was white I could have made up any story I wanted and the police would have believed me. Anthony would have been arrested immediately. I ran because I didn't feel like explaining. I just didn't want to talk about it.

  I realized Ruthie was still with me after I was well into the woods. I stopped running, yanked her to me, and crammed my tongue down her throat.

  "What the hell is the matter with you?" she yelled as she tried to pull away from my grasp. I held onto her tightly, refusing to let go. I was too strong for her. I stared into her eyes. They were his eyes! They had the exact same light brown eyes. How could I fall in love with someone with his eyes? How could I even look at her anymore and not see him? Part of me hated her, now. Part of me wanted to hurt her the way he had hurt me. But the rest of me realized that she was the same beautiful little girl that I had loved all my life.

  "You're hurting me!" She started to cry. She slapped me hard across the face. That broke the spell I was under. I let her go and she collapsed onto the ground.

  "Stephen, tell me what's wrong. I don't know what to do."

  "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Ruthie. I didn't mean to hurt you." I fell to the ground and sobbed. This shocked her even more. She had known me all my life, through broken arms, sprained ankles and dislocated shoulders, mostly due to the countless beatings from that man. Never once had she seen me cry. She stared at me in disbelief, not knowing what to do. Then she tentatively came over and wrapped her arms around me. I clung to her like she was going to disappear as she planted kisses on my neck.

  "Please talk to me, Stephen. Please, tell me what's going on."

  "I love you so much. I don't know what I’m going to do."

  "I love you, too."

  "We can never be together."

  "Why not? If this is about Anthony, I'm sorry. Nothing happened. I was just trying to get back at you for hurting me. For not wanting to marry me. He means nothing. I love you."

  How was I going to tell her? I didn't know if I could say it out loud. I finally just blurted it out.

  "You're my sister!"

  "What are you talking about? That's impossible." She let go of me and scooted away.

  "My father is your father. He had an affair with your mother. We're half brother and sister."

  She stared at me with her mouth agape, as if trying to process the information. She finally stood and turned away. I followed suit and tried to put my hand on her shoulder. She brushed it away.

  "I'm sorry, Ruthie. I didn't want to tell you. I thought I
could move on without you knowing, but seeing you -"

  Suddenly, she turned around and slapped me again. "How dare you?" she said. "I am not that man's child." She started to storm away.

  I grabbed her arm and pulled her back to me. "It's the truth."

  "You're pathetic, Stephen. Just admit you're too scared. Admit you don't love me enough. I hate you!" She struggled loose and ran away.

  How could she think I didn't love her? That hurt worse than the slap. Maybe it was better if she hated me. Maybe that would make it easier for me to move on and forget her.

  Chapter 19

  The sound of sirens always struck fear in my soul. I was always afraid the sirens would be for my mother or me. With my breath caught in my throat, I peered out of my window and saw the ambulance tearing down my driveway. But it didn't stop at my house. It kept going toward Ruthie's.

  I jumped out of bed and ran to the back door. What if something had happened to her? We hadn't spoken since that day in the woods three weeks ago. She said she hated me and made no attempt to prove otherwise. There were no knowing glances between us and no secret meetings in the library. Only cold stares or complete ambivalence. I tried to pretend it didn't bother me. I tried to pretend that my time with Ruthie was just a phase I would grow out of. But deep down, I knew it was more.

  Leaves crunched beneath my bare feet as I ran toward her cottage. When I got there, they were loading a gurney onto the ambulance. The body on it was covered with a sheet - a sure sign of death. I think my heart momentarily stopped.

  "Sorry for your loss, Ruthie," someone said.

  I turned and saw her sitting on the steps in front of her house. I could breathe again.

  Ruthie nodded numbly while staring straight ahead. She seemed frozen in place as the ambulance slowly made its way down the hill toward the main road.

  I stared at her in silence for a moment. I wanted to hold her. I wanted to reach out and stroke her curly brown hair. But I wasn't sure if I could, knowing what I knew. I wasn't sure if she would let me.