Sanctuary Page 4
*****
The parlor was actually a big living room, Benji discovered. It was large but cozy, with a big fireplace and lots of paintings on hunter green walls. Red china pattern curtains framed long gothic windows looking out on the circle driveway. When Benji came down after hauling all his stuff to his room, he found his dad staring pensively through the glass. Everyone else was grouped throughout the room talking and drinking what looked like lemonade.
Sarah was talking with Jessie and Aunt Rachel near the dining room entrance. Tyler was leaning against a big bookcase perusing the selection, while Uncle Matt and a teenaged boy Benji hadn’t seen before sat on a couch beside him talking animatedly. There was a man about Dad’s age sitting on a couch with a little girl on his lap and Sylvie sat next to them. Grandpa Lee was sitting in an armchair in front of the fire place watching the gathering with a scowl.
As Benji came in, Sarah asked if he wanted some lemonade or tea from the buffet table. He answered in the affirmative and let her get him a glass of lemonade from a narrow waist high table against a back wall. He sipped it indifferently and wandered to the window by his dad.
Maybe Dad would stay, Benji thought. Maybe he’d realize leaving his kids with a bunch of strangers was wrong. It was abandonment. Not that these weren’t nice people, but they weren’t his family, not really. He hardly knew them. Dad was family, even if he wasn’t winning any father-of-the-year awards lately. Surely he’d realize what a stupid and senseless idea this all was and they could be on a plane for Alabama in the morning. Benji wouldn’t even mind going back to his tiny room if he could get back to Mobile.
Benji’s train of thought was making him frustrated and angry. He tried to think more sensibly as he approached his father. Before he could say anything, though, everyone’s attention was drawn to the archway where Aunt Rachel stood, clearing her throat. Everyone focused her and Benji lost the opportunity to corner his father.
“Before dinner gets on the table, how about I introduce everyone?” She smiled and congenially and gestured about the room. Aunt Rachel started introductions and Benji moved away into a corner near the fireplace, resentful of his missed chance.
The man on the couch was named David Landy. He was Sylvie’s husband and was also English. They’d worked here for twenty years Aunt Rachel said. The little girl was their daughter, Kimmy who was eight and half and the teenager talking to Uncle Matt was their son, Adam, seventeen. Grandpa, Uncle Matt, Aunt Rachel, and Jesse they obviously already knew.
After the short interlude everyone began talking again, asking Sarah, Tyler and Benji about their ages and interests. A sudden noise from the window quieted the room again and the gathering turned to look at Todd. This is it, Benji thought, and he hated himself for the brief flair of hope. He studied his dad and tried to keep his features neutral. Dad would either take them home now or leave them here.
With the attention on him, Dad’s face got a bit red and he had to take a breath before he spoke. “I guess I should go before it gets dark,” he said and his voice seemed boomingly loud to Benji. He looked scared and silly and weak standing framed by the window glass all by himself, telling his children he was leaving. He looked small, Benji thought, angrily. An evil imp, maybe, instead of a father; some changeling that was going to bail on his kids. Benji liked the image he’d conjured. It was a satisfying characterization of the man before him.
Benji nearly lost his composure when a hand suddenly landed on his shoulder. It was Sarah. She looked scared and worried. Benji hated the pleading expression in her face. It was obvious she thought he’d go berserk or something, even though he promised her earlier he wouldn’t.
Before coming down, he was piling some of his clothes into his new closet. Sarah knocked twice on the door and asked if she could come in. Though he hadn’t wanted to admit her, he said okay anyway and she ducked into the room.
“Could we talk for a minute?” she asked softly. Benji hated her gentle voice. It was too much like Mom’s.
“Maybe I don’t want to talk,” Benji said. He knew it was whiney, but he couldn’t seem to help it. What did she want from him?
“I’d appreciate it if you could control your temper this evening,” she told him. Her face was stern and Benji shrugged rather than say anything. She continued softly, “I know you’re upset. I know this sucks. It’s not fair and all the huge rooms in the world won’t fix it.”
“But?” Benji prompted acidly.
“But you need to listen to me,” she pleaded. “Dad’s going and nothing will change that.” Sarah cut him off when he tried to object. “Dad needs to go and we need to stay and be someplace else for a while. Think of it as yearlong vacation,” she suggested.
“Aunt Rachel is nice,” Sarah continued. “Uncle Matt seems like a good guy and they act like they really want us here. It will be good for us to be around them. And I think it will be good for us to be away from Dad. Maybe if Dad’s gone, you won’t be so angry all the time.”
What a stupid way to think, Benji thought, but he didn’t say anything. His sister was speaking out of desperation. She just didn’t want him to embarrass her in front anyone, which he resented. He didn’t care, so he said nothing, just shrugged again.
“Benji, promise you won’t throw a tantrum or start yelling when Dad leaves,” she begged.
“He might not leave,” Benji said stubbornly. “We might all leave and go home.”
“Promise me,” Sarah repeated. She was looking at him with tears in her soft brown eyes. Her expressiveness didn’t sway him. He just wanted her gone, so he gave her a stiff promise and went back to his suitcases.
She probably wanted to hug him, cry a little maybe, but he ignored her until she left, shutting the dwarf sized door behind her. His breathing became heavy with pent up anger. This was not fair and he shouldn’t have to promise anyone anything. He was nearly fourteen. His life shouldn’t be controlled by the stupid, irrational whims of other people.
His mother was dead, his father was going to leave him and now his sister didn’t even want him to voice an objection. She couldn’t really believe that a father leaving his kids was a good thing? That was just crap. It was all crap! He threw another bag into the closet and it landed with a gratifying bang. He wanted to rage and yell, and if she’d stayed in the room he probably would have so she could see how much pain he was in, how much pain their dad was causing.
Of course that didn’t really work with Sarah. Sarah hadn’t even cried when Mom died. Those troopers came into their home with their quiet, devastating words. Dad slumped in the foyer, practically laying in the doorway sobbing. Tyler stood beside him and cried silently, his hands turning into white-knuckled fists. Benji didn’t even believe it at first. But when the words got through, he clung to Sarah’s hand crying and screaming with each breath before he knew he was even doing it. Sarah hadn’t though. She didn’t shed even one tear.
Benji recalled Sarah standing next to him in the foyer. It was still raining outside and the troopers were leaving with their funny hats in hand. He heard her take in three short gasping breaths and then she let out a short wail and that was it. She let Benji cling to her while he sobbed, but she did not cry. He’d caught her a few times afterwards, crying silently when she thought she was alone, but no more than that. Mostly she was robotically calm about everything, which just made Benji angry.
Sarah didn’t get angry either. She spoke softly and never complained, even though she started doing all the housework. She was like a machine, the Terminator that cleaned.
Benji couldn’t stand it. He was angry and sad all the time. He knew his behavior wasn’t the best, but how could anyone expect him to act normal? His mother was dead; didn’t he deserve to throw a tantrum or two? It was really a miracle that was all he did. At least he hadn’t taken up drinking like Tyler.
The worst thing about Sarah, though, was that she looked like Mom. Sarah was a carbon copy of their mom. Benji couldn’t stand it. He was glad when she s
tarted getting fat and sloppy, so she didn’t look so much like Mom anymore. He was perversely grateful that she’d become a pale and puffy zombie.
At the moment, her pudgy hand felt heavy on his shoulder as he struggled with his feelings. He had promised, but did it really matter?
Dad was just staring at them, melancholy and nervous. Suddenly, Benji couldn’t take it anymore. He yelled a wordless sound of outrage, shoved past his sister, and escaped the room. He ran up the stairs, all the way to the very top landing and collapsed in front of the only door. He pounded the floor with his fist, rapping his knuckles against the wood with an accommodating sort of pain. He yelled and didn’t care if anyone heard him. He deserved to be angry and his dad deserved the full force of that anger. Benji only regretted that he hadn’t been able to punch Dad with the same harshness he pounded the floor.
Benji’s anger consumed him and he let it carry him into a numb stupor, collapsing limply to the floor. Silent, salty tears coursed down his face as he listened to the sound of a distant engine coming to life. Closing his eyes, he tried to block out the scrape of gravel against rubber as his dad drove off, not even bothering to find Benji and say goodbye.
*****
Chapter 5: The Great Goodbye