It was Christmas now. In Glen Oak, there was never any snow, but there was
a general feeling of peace and happiness. But not for Simon. Never again
for Simon.
Even with his universal truth, his universe itself was a colder, smaller, place. The world was not quite so bright; for all that he lived every moment and took every step with a grim sort of purpose. His father hadn't even blinked when Simon said he was joining the swim team.
"It'll be good for you to have something to do," Eric had said.
"Yes," was all Simon had replied not wanting to admit that it was all to get into college, into a good college, the kind from which he could change the world. For that was what he lived for, and that was his growing and his breathing and his sorrowing, to change the world, to make his sacrifice and offer it to Lucy and have it be perhaps his redemption, if not hers. They still heard nothing from her; for all that it was Christmas and family time. He knew, in the pits of his soul that this would be hardest for her.
But it was hard to see beyond his own sorrow.
And so he swam. When school ended, he swam six hours a day, one practice in the morning, one at night. He didn't say much and his teammates kind of ignored him. He was good, surprisingly, good enough that he didn't get picked on, though he wasn't breaking records. And at meets, when the team broke into little groups, like the one with the girl backstroker and the two male distance swimmers, he sat alone and did homework.
And his grades were now impeccable. It had been a struggle to raise them, but he was doing it to redeem himself and so it was necessary and so he did it. His teachers had been surprised, but said nothing, yet. He talked in class enough for the points, after all, and teenagers were strange. What could you do if they didn't come to you?
And Simon discovered something else, a corollary to things he'd already known: that if you are good, people leave you alone. You will be under appreciated, and people will say nice things about you to your parents, but everyone will leave you alone. He was now a good student, a dedicated swimmer (even if it was distance, and it did hurt) and a good, church-going boy.
And so now when people spoke about the Camdens they said, "Oh yes, and such good boys. The oldest son is in medical school, you know, and the younger is an intelligent, athletic, well-behaved student. But those girls." (Here they would shake their heads in shame.) "That Mary always was such a flighty child, and then Lucy just vanished one day. And we all had such hopes for her too. But at least the parents have two good children to comfort them."
Simon knew they said this, but he did not speak out. At times, when the gossip got particularly bad, when Lucy had run off with Captain Smith's OLDER brother and joined with Mary in some weird relationship down in Florida, Simon wanted to scream and cry, "Don't you realize?!? You stupid old biddies. Lucy was being abused! One of the few people in the world she should have been able to trust without reservation destroyed that trust and her! And all the things I do that you think are so great? I'm only doing them because Lucy can't have the life she deserved, and I have to do something to redeem humanity to my sister!"
But boys who made scenes called in shrinks and had problems, and couldn't get letters saying they were responsible adults, so Simon didn't. And every day was hard, trying not to let slip exactly what had happened. He didn't like hearing his sister slandered and himself so unrightfully praised. But there was nothing he could do about it, nothing.
School was out, now. Lucy had loved Christmas. She would start signing Christmas carols right after Halloween, and wouldn't stop until January. Except for the year when school had been particularly bad, she had even loved being in the living Nativity, something none of the rest of the family enjoyed. And with those memories of his favorite sister drifting around in the scents and the very air, Simon was again reminded of what he had promised himself.
He was going to go to college. His grades were good enough, he had an activity, and his PSAT scores had been excellent. And each of those went a step to fulfilling the promise he had made to himself, to Lucy and to God. But there was more to that promise, a part of it that was uncomfortable, and more than a little bit scary. But he had to do it now.
And so on the first day of Christmas break, Simon went questing in downtown Glen Oak. It was a part of the city that most of his family avoided like the plague. And perhaps with good reason. Unlike where they lived, Crawford had no influence here. There were cigarettes, and worse should he want it. And the guys at school talked about what you could get down here. But Simon was questing for redemption, something a lot harder to find then pleasure or addiction. Eventually, though, he found it. And when he had found it, he went in, wondering if there really was something he could do to help those like Lucy. Maybe there wasn't, he was a guy, after all. But he had to try, for Lucy's sake and for his own. And so Simon entered The Glen Oak Women's Shelter.
Even with his universal truth, his universe itself was a colder, smaller, place. The world was not quite so bright; for all that he lived every moment and took every step with a grim sort of purpose. His father hadn't even blinked when Simon said he was joining the swim team.
"It'll be good for you to have something to do," Eric had said.
"Yes," was all Simon had replied not wanting to admit that it was all to get into college, into a good college, the kind from which he could change the world. For that was what he lived for, and that was his growing and his breathing and his sorrowing, to change the world, to make his sacrifice and offer it to Lucy and have it be perhaps his redemption, if not hers. They still heard nothing from her; for all that it was Christmas and family time. He knew, in the pits of his soul that this would be hardest for her.
But it was hard to see beyond his own sorrow.
And so he swam. When school ended, he swam six hours a day, one practice in the morning, one at night. He didn't say much and his teammates kind of ignored him. He was good, surprisingly, good enough that he didn't get picked on, though he wasn't breaking records. And at meets, when the team broke into little groups, like the one with the girl backstroker and the two male distance swimmers, he sat alone and did homework.
And his grades were now impeccable. It had been a struggle to raise them, but he was doing it to redeem himself and so it was necessary and so he did it. His teachers had been surprised, but said nothing, yet. He talked in class enough for the points, after all, and teenagers were strange. What could you do if they didn't come to you?
And Simon discovered something else, a corollary to things he'd already known: that if you are good, people leave you alone. You will be under appreciated, and people will say nice things about you to your parents, but everyone will leave you alone. He was now a good student, a dedicated swimmer (even if it was distance, and it did hurt) and a good, church-going boy.
And so now when people spoke about the Camdens they said, "Oh yes, and such good boys. The oldest son is in medical school, you know, and the younger is an intelligent, athletic, well-behaved student. But those girls." (Here they would shake their heads in shame.) "That Mary always was such a flighty child, and then Lucy just vanished one day. And we all had such hopes for her too. But at least the parents have two good children to comfort them."
Simon knew they said this, but he did not speak out. At times, when the gossip got particularly bad, when Lucy had run off with Captain Smith's OLDER brother and joined with Mary in some weird relationship down in Florida, Simon wanted to scream and cry, "Don't you realize?!? You stupid old biddies. Lucy was being abused! One of the few people in the world she should have been able to trust without reservation destroyed that trust and her! And all the things I do that you think are so great? I'm only doing them because Lucy can't have the life she deserved, and I have to do something to redeem humanity to my sister!"
But boys who made scenes called in shrinks and had problems, and couldn't get letters saying they were responsible adults, so Simon didn't. And every day was hard, trying not to let slip exactly what had happened. He didn't like hearing his sister slandered and himself so unrightfully praised. But there was nothing he could do about it, nothing.
School was out, now. Lucy had loved Christmas. She would start signing Christmas carols right after Halloween, and wouldn't stop until January. Except for the year when school had been particularly bad, she had even loved being in the living Nativity, something none of the rest of the family enjoyed. And with those memories of his favorite sister drifting around in the scents and the very air, Simon was again reminded of what he had promised himself.
He was going to go to college. His grades were good enough, he had an activity, and his PSAT scores had been excellent. And each of those went a step to fulfilling the promise he had made to himself, to Lucy and to God. But there was more to that promise, a part of it that was uncomfortable, and more than a little bit scary. But he had to do it now.
And so on the first day of Christmas break, Simon went questing in downtown Glen Oak. It was a part of the city that most of his family avoided like the plague. And perhaps with good reason. Unlike where they lived, Crawford had no influence here. There were cigarettes, and worse should he want it. And the guys at school talked about what you could get down here. But Simon was questing for redemption, something a lot harder to find then pleasure or addiction. Eventually, though, he found it. And when he had found it, he went in, wondering if there really was something he could do to help those like Lucy. Maybe there wasn't, he was a guy, after all. But he had to try, for Lucy's sake and for his own. And so Simon entered The Glen Oak Women's Shelter.
