XXVIII. ...And More (Skeletons)

Tuesday

3 days until Whack-Your-Brain

There's a part of me that wants to scream, get the hell out of the attic and leave everything where it is. I can't bear to look at it any longer. The world is shaking around me like a 6.5 magnitude earthquake, and I can't breathe properly. I'm becoming light-headed, and the urge to faint is overwhelming.

But, as if somehow against my will, I mechanically flip through each paper in my hand that I pulled from the envelope. These are criminal records of my mom as a juvenile. Court dockets. And more photographs of mom as a minor with mugshots from the front and either side. All the while I'm in denial with what I'm reading. If this is really real, how come I'm just now learning about it?

My mom is being charged with assaulted battery. I continue to read through the papers. Apparently she was one of three participants who ganged up on a white male (his name isn't specified) and beat him in the back alley of a parking lot behind a diner. My mom? Violent? Jumping a person behind a parking lot? This doesn't sound like her at all. Nonetheless, the record has her name on it; well, her first name followed by her maiden name, so Veronica Libby instead of Veronica Graham. Why was I never told about this? Or Vince for that matter? Or does he know something as well?

"I knew you'd go back up here."

I freeze in terror. Dad's home already? So much for being discrete. But as I snap my head around, I realize that it's only Vince, and not my father. He's beginning to sound more like him when he gets older. "Vince..." I start but trail off. Your mother was a convict. Just what you wanna hear about your late parent. "I...found the trunk. You might wanna see this."

"What the...?" Vince comes closer. "How did you find it?"

"It was inside the couch." I answer. "It was way too hard underneath for it to be just the cushion."

"Damn. He really wants to hide this from us." Vince kneels down next to me.

"Yeah no kidding." I hand him the papers I'm holding. "You'll see why in a second."

I watch my brother's eyes grow wide as he scans the documents with his beady eyes. He flips the police report over and then rereads the front. "What the hell is this?"

"Exactly what you think it is."

"This can't be our mom. Not our mom." That makes two of us in denial.

"Guess you were never told about this either." I remark sarcastically.

I watch Vince's hands tremble as he holds the documents. He's staring down at them as if he's still reading them, but his eyes are traveling elsewhere, beyond the attic.

"Do you think we should tell dad about our discovery?"

"Did you forget about that childhood story I just told you about?" Vince snaps out of his trance. "How about we just put this all away and— "

"Pretend like we never saw anything, right?" I raise my voice. "I think you and I both know that that's not going to happen."

"Vivian, this is a thing of the past. It was expunged." Vince says. "We don't need to explore this any more. I've had enough drama in our family to last me a lifetime."

"I'm not asking you to join me." I say, "but you're not stopping me from investigating this. I'm tired of having these dreams, but they came back for a reason, and I think this might be part of why." I take the documents from his hands. "I'll be as secretive about this as possible, but could you please please keep this from dad?"

Vince sighs for the millionth time today. "Of course, but you have to promise me that you won't exhaust yourself over this. You already have enough on your plate for a fifteen-year-old."

I hold out my pinkie. "It's a deal."

"Good." He locks his in. "Just put this all away before dad gets back."

"Alright." I say. "We still have about forty-five minutes."

"B.S. He could come home early for whatever reason."

"Touché." I say. "I'll be quick. Now go away, or we'll definitely look suspicious if he sees us both in the attic."

"Good point. See ya." Quickly Vince leaves the room.

I take a deep breath and exhale before gathering up the photos and stuffing the disturbing criminal records back in the manilla envelope. In my haste, something falls out of the pile and onto the floor in front of me: a photograph.

"What's this?" I reach for the frame sized picture and get a good look at it.

And I thought mom's expunged records were the most terrifying thing in that folder.

"So you put everything back the way it was, right?" Vince asks me.

"I did the best I could." I reply.

"Good. Hopefully dad's not so OCD about things."

Vince and I are on our way to Rick's house to return his study packet for the Whack-Your-Brain Finals. I feel bad for not knowing that, this entire time, since last Wednesday, his notes had been at my place. Poor Rick must have been so stressed out trying to make due without it.

"Look, we're sort of crunched for time before dad gets home, so let's hurry up and get his car back before then." Vince says. "Otherwise I'd stop in and say hi to Rick, but I'm not trying to get in trouble my first day back."

"Why didn't you just call him and tell him that you were going to use the car?" I inquire.

"Because if we hurry, it won't take us that long." My brother answers.

Under my direction, we pull up to Rick's place in dad's granite-colored car. This is the other car that he owns, even though I don't understand why, of all colors, he would pick one so dank and shady. Occasionally he uses this car when we run shopping errands on the weekends. It's such a bland, generic color that it's sometimes difficult to pinpoint its location, especially in a sea of other dark cars.

"Wow. That didn't take as long as I thought." Vince says. "Okay, you go in and give him his notes back. I'll wait for you here."

"Okay." I climb out of the passenger door. I walk at a leisurely pace up to Rick's front door, relishing this unusually warm weather and stalling my eventual encounter with my friend. This would be our first time speaking eye-to-eye since last Thursday, and I couldn't be more of a wreck. I don't want things between us to be awkward for the remainder of the year, but I'm definitely not ready to question our relationship status again. I shiver, ironically, as I think of our last kiss—one that I initiated. I still can't believe I did that. Me with zero experience before Rick came along. Immediately I go back to the day before when Rick kissed me first, then shake my head. My feelings are still torn in two with our romance. I don't even know how Rick feels about it now. It's been a few days; maybe he doesn't care about it anymore. Maybe he's gotten used to barely speaking to me since then. I didn't mean for us to be like this, but I guess that can't be helped considering we had budding chemistry just before.

Finally I'm standing in front of the door with my heart pounding its way out of my chest. We could avoid the topic all over again. After all, we're in a hurry to beat dad home. Just hand him his packet and go. It feels like an eternity has passed as I hesitate, staring at the deep green door. At last I summon enough courage to lift my fist up and knock on the door three swift times.

As I wait a few seconds, I can hear voices on the other side. "Was that the door? Somebody answer that!"

They're shouting in there. Someone's cranky this afternoon.

The command is fulfilled, and my heart freezes in my throat as Rick stands before me, opening the door. For a moment the two of us stare at each other, both trying to find words to say: I watch Rick move his lips as he attempts to speak.

"I have your packet here." I say at last, holding up his study guide.

He smiles half way. "Thanks." He says calmly and takes it from me. "I've been looking for this. I'm relieved that it was with you this whole time."

"So am I." I look down at my shoes. "Uh...Vince is out in the car if you want to go and say hi to him."

"Really?" Rick looks beyond me, over at dad's ugly car. He waves over at my brother, who waves back with a smile. "How long is he back for?"

"The rest of this week and the weekend." I reply.

"That's great." He smiles a little bit more than before.

"Who's at the door, Richard?"

Immediately Rick faces his left (my right) as his father pops up in the doorway; I watch as Rick nearly jumps out of his skin. "Oh Vivian." The man says. "How are you, dear?"

"I'm okay. Thanks for asking." I reply, grinning the largest grin I can muster.

"Good to know." He smiles back now speaking in a bright, cheery voice. He's just about as good as being charming as his son. How freaky it is that I see Rick thirty years in the future? "Care to come in?"

"Oh no. We're actually in a hurry." I say and turn towards the car. "Vince and I need to head back home."

"Borrowing your father's car without permission, huh?" Mr. Murray says.

I snap my head around. Man he's good! "H-how did you know that?"

The man laughs, which is again, freakishly similar to Rick's. "Listen, I can call your father and cover for you both. Unless you're in a hurry to be someplace."

"Really?" I say. "You'd seriously do that for us?"

He winks at me. "Cross my heart."

Maybe I should just go with it. Suddenly goosebumps cover my body.

"Don't be shy: my wife can make you two some tea if you want. For both you and your brother."

"Um..." I say. "I'll be right back." I awkwardly walk away from the porch and towards Vince's side of the van.

He rolls the window down. "What gives?"

"Rick's dad figured us out," I report, "but he says he won't tell our dad about it."

"Wait a minute. He knows what?"

"That we borrowed dad's car without asking him: you heard right."

"Who is this guy? Sherlock Holmes?" He squints over at Mr. Murray in disbelief.

"He's inviting us in for tea." I continue. "The least we can do is accept the offer."

"You can accept it." Vince says. "I really just wanna go home and relax."

"C'mon, Vince, if you don't wanna stay for tea, at least introduce yourself. He's Rick's dad, and besides, he helped save my life last week. Remember that story I told you about?"

For a lack of better words, I use "sigh" again to describe Vince's heavy, exasperated exhale of breath. "Fine." He opens the door, and I smile as he climbs out of the car and follows me towards where I left Rick and his dad standing.

"Yo, Rick." Vince holds out his hand as both he and Rick slap palms and hold on for a handshake. "Degrassi treating you well?"

"Better than ever." He replies with a grin.

Liar. I think.

"Uh, have you met my dad?" He continues.

"I don't think we're familiar." Mr. Murray replies in lieu of my brother, extending his hand to my him. "Adam. Nice to meet you."

"Vince. Same here." He takes his hand and completes the standard businessman shake. "Sorry if I seem distant. I just need to go back home, or I just want to."

"I see. You go to university?" Mr. Murray asks.

"Yeah. I attend Brown in Rhode Island." Vince answers.

"Oh, is that an Ivy League Institution? You must be extremely bright. Your parents must be really proud of you."

I look down at the grass.

"My dad is proud of me." My brother says. "And my mom would be too, if she were still here."

"Oh, you mean she's...? I'm sorry to hear that you two." He says in a smooth, gentle voice.

I snap my head up at Mr. Murray again.

"You okay, Vivian?" Rick says to me.

"Fine." I look at him.

"Well if you're sure you don't want to come in, Vince." Mr. Murray says. "We'll make you some tea. Coffee if you'd prefer it."

"Yeah, Vince." I pretend to glare at my brother.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'll let dad know that you went to a friend's house." Vince backs away from the doorway. "See you later, Viv. You too, Rick." He slaps his arm. "Nice to meet you, sir." He waves at Mr. Murray before turning towards the van.

I watch him go until Mr. Murray speaks, "Come in, come in."

I follow him inside as Rick joins in behind me and closes the door.

"Rick can walk you over to the couch, and I'll let Lydia know that you're here." I barely catch Mr. Murray's words as he disappears to the back of the house.

Rick faces me. "Walk with me?"

I nod. "Of course."

I follow Rick to the very couch where I had tea and water with him and Mrs. Murray a few weeks back. We sit in approximately the same spots as before, which causes a rush of nostalgia. Somehow, amidst all of the drama, I had a good time that afternoon.

"Thanks again for returning this to me, Vivian." Rick says. "I was really worried I lost it, or that somehow Spinner or Jay had taken it from me."

"Nope. It was safe and sound the whole time." I smile. "You're welcome."

He chuckles at this. "Thanks."

"You've thanked me three times already." I giggle.

He quickly looks at me, smiling with slight embarrassment.

"I hope studying goes better for you this time." I say.

"Oh it will." He replies. "I can't wait to study now."

"Glad to hear." I say. "Listen, Rick, about last week—"

"It's okay, Vivian. I understand where you're coming from." He responds immediately.

"Honest?" I ask. "I know that it hasn't been easy trying to talk since all of that happened. I'm...I'm sorry if I lead you on last Thursday."

"You didn't lead me on." Rick says. "I understand. Honest. I should have been able to listen to you. I was wrong."

"I want us to be able to talk after all of this." I say.

"We're talking now aren't we?" Rick says.

I open my mouth and try to think of a response, but nothing comes out. Was that supposed to be snarky?

"Vivian, I'm sorry." Rick says, holding my shoulder. "I'm a little...distracted these days."

"These days?" I say. "It's barely been a week since we've talked about this." I raise my voice. "If you don't want to be friends anymore just say it. I don't like being lied to."

Rick begins to speak, but a shriek from the other room causes us both to flinch. Shortly following it is a loud popping noise.

I stiffen, the blood running cold in my body. I turn to face Rick, and he looks equally as spooked as he looks back at me. There's a brief silence until I force myself to say, "Is...is everything alright?"

"I'll...be right back." He scoots forward.

I reach out and grab his arm. "Where are you going?"

"To see my parents, Vivian." He lays his hand over mine. "I need to go back there and check on them."

I squeeze his arm. "Let's talk some more."

"Vivian, they're my parents." He has a firm grip on my hand that's on his arm. "I have to."

I shake my head slowly. I can only hope that the look that I'm giving him is pleading him to stay.

"It's alright." He softens his voice. "I promise." Slowly he lifts my hand from his arm, and now I cling to his hand.

"Please come back quickly." I say.

"I will." He takes his other hand and covers mine with the two of his before getting up and walking steadily to the other room.

I sit with my hands, now sweaty, in my lap. "Everything's fine; you're just overreacting. There was probably just a roach." I thought saying the lie aloud would help soothe my racing heart. It doesn't.

I look around the living room in the eerie silence, and realize the stark difference from the last time I was here: it's a mess. There are papers and envelopes scattered across the coffee table's surface, practically burying it. Also there's an ashtray with a cigarette butt sitting inside with ashes sprinkled around it.

The mess goes beyond the table. The television has multiple beer cans sitting on top of it, all open from what I can see. The love seat that's to my right (and perpendicular to the couch) has bits of popcorn crumbs sprinkled on the cushions. What's happened here?

"Sorry about the mess, dear." There's a smooth hand on my back.

Instantly I look up to see Mrs. Murray and her warm smile towering over me. In her other hand she's holding a red mug. "Care for hot chocolate?"

I smile back. "Yes, please." I say as enthusiastically as possible.

She leans over and hands me the mug before taking Rick's former place on the couch.

"How have you been, sweetie?" Although her smile and her words are both equally warm, as I look at her up close, I can see the deep creases under Mrs. Murray's pale, striking blue eyes. She looks exhausted.

"I'm doing alright." I blow on the steam flowing from the mug before I take a sip. "Wow, this is really sweet."

"For a sweet girl." She winks at me. "I hear you had Ricky's packet this entire time."

I laugh. "Oops! It went unnoticed all the while. My brother was the one who saw it today."

"You're such a good friend to Rick." Mrs. Murray runs a hand through one of my braids. "Such a good friend."

I smile. "Well he's been really kind to me, and a good person as well. It's only natural that I return the favor."

"It's more than that, Vivian." Mrs. Murray says. "I...I was completely opposed to Rick going back to Degrassi. He kept saying that he wanted a chance to prove everyone wrong, especially Terri's old friends. He wanted them to know, he said, that he was a changed person on the inside, that he wanted to be a man for the first time in his life. I was completely against his reasoning. I thought he would be hated and ostracized for what he did, and if I was being honest with myself at the time, I couldn't blame those kids if they felt animosity towards him."

I raise my eyebrows while cautiously sipping the hot chocolate. The heat of it flowing through my system is the only thing that's keeping the goosebumps from popping up on my skin. I look at her closely and see—maybe I'm imaging it, praying that I'm imagining it—but just beneath her left cheek, there's a faint outline of a bruise. Most of it is concealed with foundation I'm assuming. "You-you can relate to them?" The chill is slowly returning to my body.

She shakes her head. "I just feel where they're coming from."

I nod slowly. But I know I heard your husband in there… "So...how did you become convinced that it was okay? For Rick to go to Degrassi?"

She sighs. "Ricky talked to Adam about it. And Adam took his side."

As if on cue, a shrill cry sounds from the other room, and I flinch. I catch Mrs. Murray's reaction; a soft gasp escapes her as she faces the direction she came from: behind the couch and from behind the closed door that leads to...the bathroom, maybe?

"What's happening back there?" My voice is barely above a whisper. "Should we check on them?"

Mrs. Murray takes a shaky breath. "Vivian...as soon as you finish your chocolate, I'm taking you back home."

I widen my eyes. "Wha…? I don't understand. Why the sudden change of heart?"

"Please, dear, don't argue with me." She replies. "I can't stop my husband when he's like this. Ricky...he went back there to protect me, and now he's taking it…" Her voice quivers. "Oh, my sweet son! I left him back there…"

"Mrs. Murray, I'll be alright out here. You need to go to your son!" I can feel my heart hammering in my chest. "Like now!"

"Ricky got his temper from his father." She shakes her head. "I wouldn't be able to stop him. I've done this before—"

"What about me?" I say. "As far as he's concerned, I'm just another naive guest. Please; let me go back there, Mrs. Murray."

Her eyes widen slightly, making her appear a little less tired. "You're right." She says softly. She pauses briefly. "Yes...yes please go check on them! Nothing will happen I promise." Her voice is barely above a husky whisper.

I nod. "Thanks for letting me help." I take another sip from the chocolate. "This is really good." I set the mug down before standing up.

"Sweetie, listen to me." Mrs. Murray holds my arm.

"Hmm?" I face her.

"Everything you heard today stays in this house." Her voice is firm for the first time since I've met her. "Understand? I need this to work for the sake of income. For my son's sake. For his quality of education… I can't afford to live here otherwise. I beg you, Vivian: don't report this." Her eyes are filling up with liquid as she looks up at me with a pleading, heavy gaze.

I look away, afraid if I stare long enough, I won't be able to move. Now I'm cold.

"Vivian, look at me." She jerks my arm slightly to get my attention. "This stays here."

I nod, looking right into her beaming blue eyes. "I promise: I won't tell anyone."

"Thanks for understanding." She says, emotion coating her voice again. "He's not here very often, Vivian, because of his job. Doesn't your father-"

"Yes he does the same." I nod briskly. "Okay: I'll be right back."

"Thank you so much for doing this." She blinks a few times, wiping a tear away from her face.

"Please, Mrs. Murray, do whatever you can to take care of yourself." It feels weird: me, a fifteen-year-old girl, telling a grown woman what to do.

"Thank you." She nods.

I briefly lay a hand on her shoulder and smile. "Alright. Here I go."

She smiles back as I make my way towards the bathroom door that's adjacent to the staircase. Just a few feet away, another shrill cry (from Rick) comes from behind the door followed by a thud. Aww, Rick! I'm coming. You don't have to play hero anymore, I'm coming.

I pause just before knocking. I need to get myself together first. Like my shaking hands for instance. After all: as far as Rick's dad is concerned, I'm just a cute, innocent little girl who's too naive and captivated by Rick's gentle nature to see anything horrible about his family.

That's what you think, pal. Eagerly I knock three, solid times on the door. "Hey, it's Vivian. Is everything alright? I just want to talk to Rick before I leave." I sound calm and cheerful; just what I was aiming for.

"Vivian? One minute." That was Mr. Murray's voice. It chills me to the bone that he sounds so calm after what just happened. There's a click before the door opens, and the older version of Rick stands right in the doorway. "Do you mind giving Rick a few minutes? He'll be ready afterwards." I move back as he steps out of the doorway and closes the door. "How is studying going for you, dear?"

"Really good." I also act natural.

"Are you typically a strong student?"

"I usually am, sir."

"Always good to hear." The man smirks. "You strike me as the intelligent type. Like my son." He winks at me. "Guess it runs in your family too."

"You know my family?" I ask.

"Uh...I meant with your brother Vince attending an ivy league school and everything." He chuckles at himself.

I nod slowly, forcing a grin. "Well...thanks."

"Anytime, sweetie." He places a hand on my shoulder and smiles at me. "It's always good to see Richard being friends with good people like yourself. He's certainly lucky."

I continue to act innocent. You're not fooling anyone. "Oh, we're just friends."

"Well, even so, he's fortunate."

Speaking of which, Rick opens the bathroom door and, proving my point, stands next to his identical twin. "Hi, Vivian." He says, also smiling. "Ready to go?"

I return it—genuinely this time. "Uh-huh." I quickly glance over his face in search of physical harm.

"You're taking her home now?" Mr. Murray asks his son.

"Yeah. That is, if you don't mind me taking her in your car." Rick, to my surprise, reaches out and holds on to my left hand.

"Well", I look up at his dad while he speaks, "sure. Just bring it back in one piece." Their voice textures almost perfectly match.

I look over and see Rick biting his lip as he stares back at his father with a vacant expression. Due to his lip, however, and the slight squeezing of my hand, I can tell that he's pretty agitated by his father's remark.

"Certainly." Rick replies. "C'mon, Vivian." I gasp softly as he gently tugs me towards him.

"Um, in Rick's defense, Mr. Murray, he's a very safe driver." I say in an attempt to break the tension.

Mr. Murray looks over at me and begins to chuckle. "I'm sure he is, Vivian." He reaches for my shoulder again. "I was just pulling his leg." He brushes his hair back. "Alright get out of here, you two. Go do kid stuff."

Rick scoffs at this.

"You know what I mean." Now it's the dad's turn to be agitated. "And what I don't mean."

"Aw, dad, you think I'm that kind of guy?" Rick says, slightly yanking me away from his dad. "Oh ye have little faith in your son."

Goosebumps prickle across my arms. What on earth am I in the middle of? I look at Mr. Murray to see any traces of anger, but he's just calmly smiling at the two of us, so I just smile back.

Rick, still holding my hand, walks us away from the man and towards the front door of the house. As we reach it, Mrs. Murray is standing there seemingly waiting for us. I watch as she embraces Rick, running her hands through his hair. She whispers something in his ear as she's holding him, then lets go. "Bye, Vivian," she says softly, "It was great seeing you again."

It's when I look at her wide, pale blue eyes does my heart break into a million pieces. There I see a look of sadness and fear all blended into one, powerful gaze, and it's drowning my spirit in pain. How can a person, at her own house, be so afraid? Is this common for her? To live in fear day after day?

I rush up and hug Mrs. Murray, unable to look at her anymore. "Thanks for having me over, Mrs. Murray. Glad I decided to stay a bit longer."

She hugs me back tightly. "I'm glad you stayed too." She says, running a hand through my hair. "You're such a sweet, sweet girl." I look at her and the eminent emotions swimming in her eyes.

I smile at her, fighting back my own emotions. "Thanks for treating me like family."

She smiles back. "You're welcome here anytime, sweetie." She leans in and kisses my forehead. Although I'm caught off guard, a warmth floods my heart instantly. "Have a safe trip home."

Rick walks up behind me. "Ready?" He asks me.

"Yep." I reply.

"Alright. Let's go." He takes my hand again, and Mrs. Murray opens the door for us.

I smile and wave at her before turning my attention towards the graphite car—different from before—that Rick and I are walking towards. As usual, he opens the passenger door for me, and I climb inside before he closes the door. I absently go through the notions as I take in what happened this afternoon. Everything makes perfect sense now. I place my hand over my heart, beating at a fast yet steady pace. I'm conflicted in my mind, in my morals and in my peace. What's happening in the Murray house...I would have NEVER guessed anything of the sort just weeks ago when I was here last. I can't believe I was oblivious to it all! How...? And now I'm watching it happen in front of my own two eyes, and can do nothing about it! Everything makes perfect sense now! Rick's abusive nature...where else could he have gotten it from than from the man who set the first example for him?

If Rick said anything to me before pulling off, I don't recall it. I'm lost in a world of confusion.