It Won't be Fair if I Hate Her

The disappearance of my parents was a blow, but not as devastating as it might have been. They'd chosen to leave us, and it was not a great surprise that they didn't return. Alex worked hard to support us. I worked to finish school, but he wouldn't let me work anywhere. I suppose this was because he didn't want me to be subjected to the sort of people living where we did. Lisa and I remained friends, though she had to work to support her family.

My daily considerations were putting food on the table and paying the rent. This brought my brother and I closer together, but we sometimes chafed at it. Alex longed to be independent and free of the demand I put on him. I didn't want to burden him, or anyone. I longed for some way to escape from this hand-to-mouth life. All of us did. Only my sister was able to completely escape it. Or so we thought.

Renee was not a beauty. She was, however, quite pretty and charming. Or so it seems to be, anyway. She had, has I guess, an air of refinement that was popular among the upper classes. Thanks to Mother's cousins, she also had access to them. I have long considered her to be the lucky one. Recently, however, I have begun to have my doubts.

Renee came to us when she was eighteen. She sought a family, after the long loneliness of boarding school. But Mother was unwilling to provide this for her, mainly due to other family members. We never had a quarrel against her, only those whom she brought with her. Mildred and her ilk were disdainful of our condition, which they perceived as very poor. They blamed Mother for letting herself sink so low, and bringing good children with her. They might have pitied my brother and me, and helped us, but we resembled our father and not their noble line. So, we were left to whatever fate Mother had doomed us to.

Renee, however, was much like Mother in her youth. Or so we're told. She was lovely and charming, and won the hearts of our relatives. Unlike many of her peers, she did not adopt a simpleton's approach to life, and seek out only rich men. She seemed to have little care in her future. She had no job, and lived off the wealth of her relatives. No suitor pleased her enough, so there seemed to be no relief. Perhaps that's why her stepmother sent her away. I don't know.

Regardless, she came to us. She did not get what she expected. I suppose she'd hoped for another place just to be, without much thought for the future. She never did consider very far ahead. She was clever, though, and could get what she wanted when it wasn't forthcoming. However, most people were all too happy to please her, so she rarely needed to use this gift. Her powers of observation were rather astounding, I recall. She watched people, and knew what they wanted and how to manipulate this wish, I guess. It was not a malicious pastime. She sought to please everyone, and not always because they would then more likely try to please her.

I remember this being evident even at only the second visit. She'd come along that time. We were outside, while she and Mother sat on the porch, watching us play. They'd been silent for some time.

"Mother?" Renee said, turning to her.

"Yes, dear?" Mother kept her eyes on us (a rare occurrence).

"Why do you hate us so?"

Startled, Mother turned back to her. "What ever do you mean by that?"

"You hate me because I make you feel inadequate. Because you had a chance for a rich life, and you threw it, and me, away. You don't want to be reminded of that choice because it may have been the wrong one," Renee replied, matter-of-factly.

I remember stopping in my play to regard them: Mother's shocked look and Renee's calmness. She was always calm when she told painful truths, not expecting them to be doubted.

"I don't know what you mean," Mother stammered.

"You love your husband, much more than you could have loved my father. But you regret the rest of your life. You enjoyed being pampered, and you love me more than them," she said suddenly, pointing at us.

"What?" Mother demanded, trying to forestall her statements.

Mercilessly, as usual, Renee continued. "You love me because I am so easily gotten rid of. If not for them, your husband could focus all of his attention on you. You wish you were rich, so you could send those children away, only visiting from time to time. I was the perfect daughter, and you hate me for reminding you of how your others fall short."

I can't say I understood much of this at the time. I knew only that she was being cruel to my mother, and saying mean things about my family. I would not stand for that, and went immediately to Alex. He never liked her, and I wonder if this might be the reason.

"Leave her alone!" he demanded, running up. He was fourteen, and not as tall as his sister. But how he glared! I quailed under that gaze many times when I was young, but never had it seemed so full of hate.

"Alex, dear, it's alright. We're just talking," Mother said quickly.

Renee and Alex glared at one another for what seemed an eternity. They felt much the same way about our Mother; both were acutely aware of her shortcomings. But Alex loved her as he loved me, and would not suffer his family to be spoken ill of.

"If she can't be nice, she has no business here. She can go back to those who are more willing to take in a free-loader," he snarled. He then went inside, so a tragedy was averted.

Mother apologized for him, and Renee kept coming. But the words stung, and the two never spoke. Not until much later.

Being a freeloader, as he put it, was heavy in Renee's mind. She resented her dependence on others, but she didn't know of a way to free herself. But from that second visit, she began to consider a means of escape. Oddly, she chose to discuss this with Mother. I suppose she considered that Mother had, after all, escaped in some way, and envied her. Not as much as she envied Renee, though. Both longed to be the other, I think. Like the later connection between my brother and me, they chafed and tried to assert independence from one another. They usually felt much the same on any safer subject. And both felt the odious weight of the family.

"Mother, may I ask for your advice?" Renee said one day. They were in the living room where Mother was cutting apart a newspaper. Renee was watching. I was in the kitchen, working on homework. They didn't know of my presence, otherwise I doubt they would have been so frank.

Mother responded in the affirmative. "I've been considering a way to leave the relatives." They were always just "the relatives" to us; rarely were they named. "I was trying to figure some way to do so, and wondered if you had any insight."

There was a pause. "Well, I suppose there are only two ways for a woman to leave her family's house. She must either get married, the preferred method, or get a job and move out. Tell me, child, what service would you submit to?"

"None!" was the forceful response.

"Then, you must marry someone to take you far from here. How to do that, though?" she wondered.

They were silent. "Perhaps you, and your husband… He knows a great many people from far away. Perhaps?" she said tentatively.

"A splendid idea! I'm sure someone in his acquaintance would know a man fitting for you, my dear," Mother crooned.

They left it at that, until Father came home. Things then moved quickly. I often wonder about my father's acquaintance, and this occasion caused a great deal of consideration. There was a great deal of discussion the following weeks, analyzing all of the associates and colleagues who might fit well enough into what Mother felt was necessary for her oldest daughter. They finally settled upon a man no longer young, but not so much older than Renee. Perhaps ten years, I think. He seemed quite old to me, when he came to meet her later that year. They had written letters to one another before hand, to see how well they might suit.

They had many characteristics in common: their hatred of injustice, ability to see through people, and the heartless manipulation that resulted. I did not think that two people with the latter similarity would be able to stand each other, but it was the chief attraction he had for her. It wasn't until later that I discovered that, but now I think it was. She was clever and would not fall for his tricks. She would set her own, and together they could scheme in such ways that no one would understand. I suppose there was an allure to that.

He was from Mongolia. Well, he wasn't from there, but he had a fine house there. Father had been once or twice. How they met, I never heard. Or how he came to be in the cold province, or how there came to be a school in his house, I never learned. I don't know what sort of school it was, but it caused Mother some distress. She worried that her daughter would be alone in the house with a lot of men. Henri, as he introduced himself, smoothly told her not to fear: he would take very good care of Renee.

I didn't trust Henri, especially as I never caught his last name. He admitted that his real name was rarely used, and he was generally known near his home as Ra's al Ghul. Mother, naturally, found this name distasteful. She did not even guess at its meaning: the demon's head. Certainly, had she known this, she would never have allowed the union. But perhaps her permission was not necessary.

Renee adored him. I don't know why. There's no accounting for love, though. He was quite fond of her. Even now, I believe she remains quite high in his esteem. The letter he permitted her to write me proves this. He does not usually let his people keep connections, by which they may be manipulated easily.

Regardless, they were married during his visit to Gotham. He was particularly interested in it, and Renee feared he might wish to stay. He assured her he did not, and soon swept her off to some great house on the mountain. We didn't hear from her for many years. She was only twenty-one when she left. I was twelve then, Alex seventeen. I believe her leaving set Mother off, and they left soon after. I never heard from Renee until long after my parents had disappeared and we had despaired of their return.