Kat's Fall (13 page)

I flick the
TV
back on, disgusted with my mom. We stare at the screen for a while, but I doubt either of us is watching the show.

“Ms. LaRose said she’d try to set up a meeting with the girls and me. We could try to figure out what is going on.”

Mom perks up. “She seems like a pretty cool teacher.” “Yeah, I guess she is.” Imagine that. Me acknowledging that she’s a good teacher. Go figure.

“Well, let me know.”

“I will.”

Mom gets up to leave. That’s when I remember the other thing I need to talk to her about. “You sure you can’t take Kat’s dog for a while? My friend has her but she can’t keep her any longer.”

“Sorry, Darcy. There’s no way.”

I just nod and turn back to the TV. I hear the latch on the front door click.

T
HE PHONE RINGS
around noon and I listen to the voice leaving a message on the answering machine.

“Darcy? Pick up the phone! It’s me, Gem. Your dad won’t let me talk to you but I’ve got to.”

I pick it up and turn off the machine. “Hi, Gem.”

“Darcy! What’s going on?” I can’t tell whether she’s mad or worried. Maybe both. But what can I tell her? That I’ve been accused of sexually assaulting two kids?

“I’m home with the flu or something.”

“Oh. I thought maybe you’d gotten into trouble. There was that cop…”

“No. That was all sorted out. Just a misunderstanding.” I hate lying to Gem like this.

“Then why didn’t you take the dog back? Why won’t your dad let you come to the phone?”

I never was a good liar. “Oh, that. Well Kat’s at our mom’s and Dad didn’t want the dog. You know.”

“No. I don’t know. He thinks I should keep the dog every time your sister goes somewhere? What’s going on, Darcy?”

I slump into a chair. I can’t carry on this charade. “Okay, you’re right. I am in trouble with Dad. Kat’s away. I don’t know why the dog can’t come home. My dad’s just got a wicked temper.”

“What did you do?”

“I can’t talk about that. But listen. Bring the dog over right after school. I’ll hide her in my room or something. I’m sorry you got caught up in the middle of my problems.”

“When does your dad get home from work?”

Good point. We don’t need Dad finding Gem hanging around. “Okay. If the kitchen curtains are open, it’s safe to bring Star in. If they’re closed, it’s not safe.”

“Isn’t he going to wonder why you’re closing the curtains in the middle of the afternoon?”

She’s right. I’m lousy at this kind of stuff. “All right. If the porch light is off, it’s safe. I’ll flick it on when he gets home. He won’t notice from inside.”

She’s quiet for so long I begin to wonder if she’s still there.

“Gem?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for keeping her for me.”

“I wish I could keep her longer. She’s so sweet. But my parents said that today is the last day. Besides, Star seems sad. I think she misses you.”

Yeah right. “That would be Kat she’s missing.”

“You think so? I miss you.”

I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel something. I feel a lot, but I don’t know what to make of those feelings.

“Darcy?”

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t say anything.”

“I didn’t know what to say.”

“You could say thanks for having the dog.”

“I already did.”

“Okay, how about saying that you miss me too.”

“I miss you too.”

I can’t believe I said it. My brain had wanted to, but my mouth and vocal chords wouldn’t do the job. I’m so glad she put the words in my mouth, allowing them to spill out.

“I’m glad.”

“Me too.” Oh yeah. That was real cool.

She doesn’t seem to notice. “Hopefully your dad won’t be home after school so we can have a few minutes together.”

“Yeah. Hopefully.”

“Darcy?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not too good with words, are you.”

“You noticed.”

“That’s okay. I can do the talking for both of us.” She laughs, and I’m blown away by how wonderful the sound of her laughter is in my ear.

“See you later,” she says.

“Later,” I say.

I
T' S THE LONGEST
afternoon of my life. I pace the living room, watching out the window for Dad’s car. I can’t bear the thought of him coming home before Gem can bring the dog over.

Eventually I see Gem coming up the sidewalk with Star. I open the door and the dog gallops in, nearly knocking me over in her excitement to be home. I’m surprised at how happy I am to see her, too. It feels like a connection to Kat, pathetic as that is.

Gem and I stand awkwardly on the landing, watching Star charge up the stairs to look for Kat. I want to invite her in, yet I’m scared Dad will come home.

“I know I have to leave right away,” she tells me.

“I’m sorry…”

Suddenly her hands are on my shoulders and she’s kissing my cheek. “Get back to school soon!” she says and slips back out the door.

I stand there, stunned. The only people who have ever kissed me before are Kat and Sammy. Maybe Mom did when I was little. I don’t remember. I follow Star up the stairs and watch her sniff out each room. I realize I won’t be able to keep Dad from finding out
she’s home. Right now I don’t care. Gem kissed me.

Eleven

D
on’t ask me how she managed it, but she did. Ms. LaRose phoned to tell me the meeting between the girls, myself, the Kippensteins, an interpreter, a social worker and the cop is to take place Thursday afternoon, at the Kippensteins’, as soon as Kat gets out of school. Apparently the girls were enthusiastic about seeing me, which is what made the cop and the newly appointed social worker agree to the meeting. They must have sensed that something wasn’t quite right.

I spent all day Wednesday at home, agonizing over the meeting. Maybe I really did do what the girls said I did. After all, I had successfully blocked the memory of dropping Kat off the balcony. Had I forgotten again? Am I really a teenage pervert?

In the end, Dad didn’t say much about Star’s sudden reappearance. In fact, he isn’t saying much of anything at all. He comes home from work, drinks beer in front of the TV and sleeps. Star and I may as well be invisible. He and Mom were informed of the meeting with the girls, but I’ll be surprised if Dad shows. Kat is still with Mom, but I don’t know how they are coping. I miss Kat so much. So does Star. We both spend a lot of time staring into space, pining for her.

The cop arrives Thursday afternoon to escort me to the Kippensteins’. When we pull into their driveway, I see The Rose’s car, as well as a couple of unfamiliar ones. A sudden wave of panic grips me. What if the girls stick to their stories? What if they accuse me of doing those things to them in front of all these people? What if I suddenly remember that I really did do those things to them?

The cop is studying my face. “Ready?” she asks.

I draw in a long breath and nod. I follow her to the front door. She knocks lightly and then enters. Directly in front of us, in the living room, the “jury” awaits. The Kippensteins’ sit together on the couch, holding hands. They won’t look at me. Ms. LaRose and my mom, sitting on chairs, both smile brightly, but I can see they are forced smiles. The Rose is wearing a crisp white blouse with a scarf tied at her neck and a knee-length, navy blue skirt. Very conservative, yet I notice that she still looks as hot as ever. Maybe she just can’t help herself.

There are two other women in the room. I’m quickly introduced to them. One is a social worker, the other an interpreter.

The cop indicates the chair that has been brought in for me. There is another one for her. I notice there is still an empty one, probably for Dad. Wishful thinking on their part.

There is no sign of the girls.

The cop starts the meeting. “We thought it best to hear from the girls one at a time, Darcy,” she says. “They are in Samantha’s bedroom waiting with a friend of Samantha’s parents. They know we’re all going to be here, but they don’t know why. We just told them that we’re going to be asking them some questions and that they need to answer as best they can.”

I can only nod.

“I’ll be asking the questions,” she continues, looking around at the assembled group. “I’d appreciate it if the rest of you just listen quietly.”

When no one says anything, she nods. “Okay, then, Ms. Murphy,” she says to my mom. “Would you mind going and asking Katrina to join us?”

Mom nods and leaves the room. I spot Kat before she sees me. My heart thumps in my chest. It feels like years since I’ve seen her, and she looks pale and nervous. When she sees me her face lights up. “Darcy!” she says and rushes over. I automatically jump to my feet to greet her with a hug. I don’t want to let her go. We hug for a long time. Eventually I sense Mom tugging Kat’s arm and directing her to take a seat on the couch beside the Kippensteins. With a final squeeze for me, she crosses the room and plunks herself down.

“I can see you’re happy to see your brother again,” the cop says, and Denise, the interpreter, quickly relays the message. Kat nods and smiles at me.

“Would you say you and your brother are very close?”

Kat looks puzzled. “Close?” she signs to the interpreter. “You mean we love each other a lot?”

“That’s right,” the cop says.

Kat nods. “Very close,” she signs.

Now the cop nods. “And do you often share the same bed as your brother?” she asks.

Kat’s fair skin turns crimson. “Sometimes I get scared at night,” she signs slowly. “I don’t like to be all alone so I climb in bed with Darcy. I know I’m getting too old to be scared, but I can’t help it.”

I feel the old heartache return. Kat shouldn’t have to go through this, sharing her most embarrassing secrets in public. I feel my face burn.

“Katrina,” the cop says quietly, “I now have to ask you some questions that may seem a little embarrassing, and you might feel uncomfortable giving me the answers, but it’s very important that you do, and as honestly as you can.”

Kat nods at the cop after watching Denise interpret, but she looks guarded.

“On March 14 you told an interpreter—not Denise but another one—that you had sexual relations with your brother.”

I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Kat’s face goes even redder and I see her eyes fill up with tears. She doesn’t say anything.

“Is it true, Katrina?” the cop asks.

“I didn’t say that,” Kat signs, “because I don’t really know what that means.”

She might not know exactly what it means, but it is clear from her expression that she knows it’s something embarrassing to talk about.

“Then what did you tell her?”

Katrina lets the tears spill. “That lady asked me if Darcy ever…” She begins to sob.

“If Darcy ever what, Katrina?”

Kat covers her face with her hands.

“Katrina?” the cop prompts, forgetting she can’t hear her.

“I think she tricked me!” Kat suddenly signs wildly, her expression flipping from embarrassment to anger.

“I’d like you to finish that sentence, Katrina,” the cop says. “She asked you if Darcy ever did what?”

It’s hard to yell at a person when you’re signing, but I think everyone in the room realizes that Kat is yelling with her hands. “She asked me if he’d ever touched me with his penis,” she signs, glaring at the cop.

The cop remains unruffled. “And how did you answer her?” she asks.

Kat glances at me apologetically, then swipes at her tears before signing to the interpreter, “I told her that once, just once, Darcy’s penis touched me, but she didn’t let me explain that it was just an accident.”

Now I feel my face go crimson. I’d put that morning out of my mind. That morning that I’d embarrassed myself so royally. I wish I could make myself invisible.

“How do you know it was an accident, Katrina?”

“I just do,” she signs.

“Have you been taught about sex in school or by your parents?”

Kat shakes her head and looks down. I remember that Mrs. K was planning on getting Kat a book about puberty. I wish someone had given her a book on the facts of life.

“When two people are very close, Katrina,” the cop says, “usually a husband and wife, but not always, the man puts his penis in a woman’s vagina, and that is called sex.”

I cannot believe this. For a split second I’m afraid she’s about to launch into more detail, but fortunately she doesn’t. I watch Kat’s expression as she watches the interpreter. I feel mortified for her, but there is absolutely nothing I can do.

“You told us that you and Darcy are very close,” the cop continues, “that you have a good relationship, so we think that maybe Darcy was having sex with you.”

Kat jumps to her feet, her head shaking from side to side. “It wasn’t like that,” she signs. Mrs. Kippenstein reaches up and pulls Kat, very gently, back down onto the couch.

“Are you sure you’re not just trying to protect your brother, Katrina, the brother you love so much?”

God. Enough already.

I’ve never seen Kat so steamed about anything. She’s usually a perfect little lady, but right now I’m worried she might spit at the cop or reach over and rip out her hair or something.

“I got into his bed and I was really cold so I cuddled up to him,” she signs rapidly. She waits while the interpreter repeats this. “It poked me once and I jumped out of bed. He didn’t mean anything. He said he was sorry.”

I’m acutely aware of people glancing at me, looking for my reaction. I stare at a stain on the carpet.

The cop thanks Kat for her honesty and then asks her to return to Samantha’s room. Again Kat throws me an apologetic glance. I just nod and do my best to give an encouraging smile.

Mrs. K brings little Sammy in next and she wiggles in between her parents on the couch. She grins and waves at me. I wave back. Poor little thing, she couldn’t have a clue about what is going on.

The cop starts off by asking Sammy, via the interpreter, if I’m a nice baby-sitter. She nods enthusiastically. Then the cop goes for the jugular. “Has someone, not Mommy or Daddy or the doctor, but someone else recently touched you in a place that is usually under your bathing suit?”