Handcuffed

Chapter 31

"You said you never have been on a boat before.  So how does it feel?" He asked from where he sat across from me in the canoe. 

I felt my smile grow, looking down at the boat and at the slightly rippling water in the otherwise still lake.  We were in the middle of the beautiful and private lake, all surrounded by pines and maples.  The paddles that penetrated the crystal water stopped moving.  Luke was rowing but stopped upon his question, waiting for a response.  We had just come out here after he showed me this little boat that was wrapped in the woods.  Apparently, it was his families and they kept it up here to use it as they wished. 

"I love this," I said, looking down at my distorted reflection from the light waves.  It was amazing, to know we were over water and not wet or in the water at all.  This was really new to me.  

I glanced back up and saw Luke took hold of both handles of the paddles and start rowing, moving the canoe around and across the lake.  I couldn't help my eyes from finding his strong arms at work, the muscles he possessed tight with every pull.  When I met his eyes though, his smile slightly dimmed at seeing I was observing him.  I chuckled and raised my eye brow, hiding my embarrassment at being caught as best as I could by teasing.  He smiled slightly, looking away and scoffing himself.  This was interesting. 

"Have you ever tipped over before?" I asked.

He offered a smile to me again, the jade in his eyes lighting up from the sunlight.  The trees no longer shadowed us as we were now in the center of the lake, and still moving smoothly.

"Once before.  Why, are you afraid of tipping?" he asked, and as he paddled, he lifted one from the water a little sharper and purposefully splashed me a bit.  I gasped slightly, lightly jumping and heard his laughter.  It was only a few drops but it was still surprising. 

As he laughed, I flipped him off and couldn't help laughing myself.  "No, but can't a girl wonder around here?" I also couldn't go without mentioning the slight discomfort I was staring to feel.  "My ass is bound to be sore soon enough though. You need some padded or cushioned seats in this bitch."

He chuckled and continued to paddle around the lake.  We were silent for a minute, only listening to the sound of the birds and trickle of water as he paddled.  It was peaceful and nice, relaxing. 

"Are you alright with me asking you a few more questions?" He asked, eyes showing a little hesitation when they met mine.

I sighed.  "I guess.  But I want my turn eventually."

He nodded, understanding.  And soon, we were back to him asking me shit and me answering with surprising honesty.  But really, wimpy sounding or not, I still liked speaking with him.  He wasn't judging me like others did.  He was forming an opinion based on the actual truth. No matter if he bought what I said or not, he still understood that is was real to me.  What ever I had to say, he trusted I had been through it. 

"What do you want to know now?  Since I am the most interesting person you know and you worship my very existence."

He smile and took a small breath.  Then, he spoke.  "You told me about your dad before.  But would you ever want to see him again or meet with him?"

I was a little surprised by this question.  I was expecting something about Clare or something along the lines of my treatment around town like before.  Plus, he asked about my dad before but since he was asking again, it raised a brow on just what it was that drove him to ponder over such an absent son of a bitch. 

It took me a minute to answer.  I never thought about it, surprisingly.  I couldn't imagine what it would be like to face him, talk to him.  What would I say?  How would I even feel about talking to him?  "I'm not really sure.  It would be interesting but I wouldn't care to have him involved with my life."

He nodded, thoughtful as he continued to row in that same motion.  "Did you ever have a pet?"

Strange question.  Looking in his eyes, I saw there was more to it though than just those words.  I had a good guess but I would first answer him.  His curiosity spoken brought up a memory, one that would always hurt to think about.  But hell, most memories were hard to think about. 

I looked away, not wanting to meet his eyes right then.  "Never allowed.  Pets are something I actually think Clare wouldn't mind, surprisingly.  But she--"

"She's allergic to animals," he interrupted my words.  But they were the truth and looking back to him, I saw his eyes were shadowed, lips tight in seeing that he knew I was telling the truth this time.  I couldn't help but wonder if he was pondering what other things I could have possibly be telling the truth about. 

I sighed.  "Yeah, she is.  And because she never could have the pleasure of having a pet, that meant I had to suffer as well from that.  Except it was much harsher than just not having a pet," I said, frowning deeply at the very vivid memory. 

My mind left the present, going to the past where ten year old me presided.  She never allowed pets.  And being ten, I knew just how much she would hate if she found out what I had done.  But I couldn't help it, especially since I always wanted a pet.  Besides that, I just couldn't let an injured bird die right in front of me.  Something happened to the poor guy that made him struggle the way he did outside my bedroom window, his wings in a fluttering chaos but he didn't really move.  What else was I suppose to do other than open my window and help him?

That was what led to where me and Birdie were a week later.  He couldn't fly.  So, I took care of him, as my pet.  I named him Birdie and he became my best friend.  Of course, that was something I hid from my mother.  I didn't think it would be too hard.   

"Birdie, do you think your momma misses you?"  I asked him, glancing over to where he was perched in his make shift nest I made; it consisted of a wrapped blanket. I even added a few leaves to make it feel more like home to him. I was siting next to where he comfortably laid on my bed, the open window in front of us bringing us fresh spring air as we looked out it.

His answer was to give a slight purr from within him, his beady black eyes looking out the window with me.  Sitting with my legs crossed next to him, I looked back down to him as I spoke. "Once your wing gets better, you'll be able to travel home."

I looked back out the window in slight sadness, taking in the leaves of the trees as well as the other free birds soaring by.  Me and Birdie watched them go by everyday, and in the hopes he would heal, the window was open in case he wanted to try to fly.  But he was always just comfortable, sitting in his little blanket next to me. Of course, during the night I would put him in his little shoe box.  It looked like a real bed for him too.  I would be happy if that stayed his bed forever.  I didn't want him to leave and lose my best friend.  But I knew he had to be missing his family and they must have missed him.

I glanced back down at where he laid in his blanket, looking out the window. I lightly ran my finger down Birdie's feathers, softly petting him.  Smiling down at him, I felt the breeze against us again and heard the flapping sound coming from outside.  It held his attention, Birdie's eyes on it. I eyed the fresh sign I made this morning too, having taped it flat to the roof so all the other birds could see it from the sky.

I explained to him why I had to make a new one.  "Birdie, I had to make another one this morning since it rained last night," I said, sighing. Looking back to him, I spoke in a lighter voice, not wanting Birdie to worry. "But this one is even better. It has your name and your picture I drew of you. I was able to color it in too this time. There is a big arrow, pointing right towards this window here," I said, tapping the window sill. He tilted his little head slightly, watching my fingers. I smiled, raising my hand and pointing to the sign a few feet outside my window, taped to the roof.

"So this sign will lead them here so they will find you in case your wing doesn't get better. But don't worry Birdie, you'll go home soon." Petting him still, I frowned. "I'm gonna miss you though.  I wish I could come with you and we can both fly away from here.  That way we can still be together."

I sighed and grabbed the small plate of crumbs I had from my bread I smuggled up from dinner last night. Dumping some in my hand, I held out my hand in front of him.  Birdie looked at it curiously before he started to jerk his head down and eat each little crumb and eat. His head still bobbing, I smiled.

"You know Birdie, you are much cooler than all those other white doves. They are just so stuck up, it makes me mad. I like your kind, Birdie. Grey doves. They are much nicer; always sitting at the edges of my roof and always relaxed so I can watch them out my window."

I bit my lip, daring a glance to Birdie. Would he think differently of me if I told him? I think he deserved to know.  We have been friends for at least a week, after all.  "Birdie, I need to tell you something." I took a deep breath. "My momma doesn't know about you. And she can't. Your lucky I found you when she wasn't around. She hates me. But she won hurt you. I just thought it was something you needed to know."  Looking down at him, he didn't appear too mad at me.  I let out a sigh of relief.  "I'm glad you understand."

 The next second, I heard something from behind us and at that sound, the sound of my door opening, I felt ready to die.  I knew there wasn't enough time, not with both me and Birdie sitting comfortably on my bed together.  There was no time to hide him. 

"Mom!" I squealed in alarm at her walking into my room.  I spun around towards the door, facing where she was now standing.  And her face... that expression at taking the sight of Birdie in.... I could literally see the darkness in her eyes grow and her face turn to stone with hatred towards me.  She took a few steps in, shutting the door behind her slowly.  Her lips were tight in a scowl and she crossed her arms.  She was not happy, to say the least.  I could already feel my tears start to come. 

She only stood there, staring daggers at me.  Chin quivering with knowledge that my time with Birdie was over, I slowly glanced behind me to see the back of his head.  He was oblivious of what was occurring right now, his attention still looking out the window.  The silence in the room was strong, to the point where I could hear Birdie lightly purring as he looked out the window. 

Looking back to mom, I heard my voice brake when I spoke.  "Mom, please listen.  He was hurt.  He was injured and might have died if I didn't help him.  He was just going to stay here until he could fly again."  As I explained this to her, her expression didn't change.  She slowly walked towards where I was sitting on my bed, my neck craning with every step she took.  "I-I couldn't just let him die, mom."

Standing before me, blank expression, she reached behind her and pulled out something from her back pocket.  My tears streamed and I felt myself start to scream in agony when I saw she pulled out her pocket knife.  With her other hand right away, she slapped me across the face and forced me to stop.  I cried harder. 

"No!  No mom!" I said and stood up, the pain within me over this driving me to do so.  I started to hit her, my fists tight and fast as I cried.  I knew I couldn't stop her but I had to try.  I just promised Birdie a minute ago this would never happen.  "He's my friend!  Birdie is mine!  You can't touch him!" I screeched as I continued to pound at her.  It wasn't long until I felt her grasp my arm tightly and whip me in the direction behind her and out of the way.  I stumbled back a little only to then feel her not hold back in a wicked punch to my face. 

I screamed out in agony as I feel to the floor.  My hands rose to my face and I cried, feeling the blood slowly trickle out of my nose.  "Mom!" I continued to cry.  "I hate you!" I cried.  "I hate you so much!"  Without even thinking about it I think, I felt my legs work and I stood up.  It was hard to see at first as well as stand but I managed.  Looking at her, her back to me, she was facing Birdie from where he was sitting on my bed.  This time though, he was looking behind him at the commotion and I felt my heart break.  He was still though, his deep, beady, black eyes finding me.  He tilted his head, glancing to mom before he was really still again.  I wanted to tell him to go, fly away but he couldn't.  Looking back to my mom, I saw that she flipped the blade out now.

"Mom!" I screamed loudly, finally getting her attention when she turned around slowly, looking curiously at me as to what I had to say.  She didn't look in any way disturbed, or angry.  She couldn't be persuaded away from what she already had decided.  But I had to try.  "Please!  Don't kill him!  At least let me take him outside to let him go.  I'm sorry and you can beat me and do anything you want to me.  Just let me take him outside."  I shook my head and my voice broke as I cried harder.  "I don't want him to die.  Please."

"Well neither do I!" She snapped, scowling at me and her eyes pointed at me with who's fault this was.  "It's your own fault though.  He will die because of you.  I'm allergic!   You are trying to kill me by bringing that thing in here.  And now you will learn."

"But Birdie... It was my fault!  It wasn't Birdie's fault!" I yelled.

I watched as an idea formed within her and saw a smile stretch over her lips.  "You're right.  It was your fault.  So you should be the one to end this."  She walked towards me, gripped my arms again, and dragged me back towards the bed.  Standing there and facing him, I then felt her press the blade to my neck.  I expect her to hurt me then.  To cut or beat me.  But what she said... you couldn't get any worse than that.

"You're going to kill him yourself."

I slowly looked up at her from where she was standing next to me.  She couldn't be serious.  I couldn't do that.... Looking up at her, I shook my head in a daze.  "No... Oh no, mom, I wont," I whispered under my breath, so shocked.  I knew my whole llife the things she was capable of.  This shouldn't surprise me yet it did. 

"You will.  You started this.  You will end this.  Now."

I looked back to Birdie and couldn't stand the thought of this.  I looked down at my bed, shaking my head slowly.  "No.  I can't."

"You will.  Otherwise, I am willing to make arrangements to make sure you fucking burn in Hell, right next to your sister.  And you will be going there today if you go against me again right now."  I cried out in pain.  I didn't want to die yet.  But this time, that threat, I knew she wasn't kidding around this time.  Looking into her cold eyes, I saw she would be willing.  She has had enough of me since lately, I apparently have just continued to push her to this point, this choice. 

"Can... can I at least say goodbye to Birdie?"

"No," she said coldly.  "You will kill him.  Right now with your bare hands."

I swallowed, looking back to Birdie.  Lips and chin both quivering, I had no choice.  I slowly climbed back up onto the bed, nearing him.  "I'm sorry Birdie."

And with that first twist, I made myself come back to reality.  I found Luke's eyes and they were in mine, seeing I was back in that memory.  I hadn't even realized I was telling him all this though.  His eyes in mine were filled with sadness at what I had told him, his arms now resting, unable to keep paddling as I was telling him what happened.  He appeared nearly as broken as I felt. 

"I can't believe you went through this kind of stuff," he said.  "How did you recover after that?"

I didn't bother in correcting him that it 'never happened'.  I liked that maybe he was seeing past that.  "I didn't.  I just deal with this shit one step at a time.  After I buried Birdie, from then on, I started calling her 'Clare'.  She wasn't my mother, that fucking bitch.  No mother would ever do that."  I said in a scowl.  I felt a breeze ripple over the water and in return, run through my hair and Luke's.  I couldn't help but admire him still.  He was very good looking; more than that, he held understanding in his eyes of my pain.  "I also started fighting back more.  I was able to let go of a lot of what she did to me.  I mean, it never scarred me the way that did.  She wouldn't even allow me to get a new bed spread after that mess." I cringed at the memory.

His eyes were still in mine.  He shook his head, slightly dazed at everything I told him.  I didn't like how much he seemed to be dwelling over this; I shouldn't have told him so much.  Sighing, I said, "Any other questions?"

He saw the distraction and seemed welcome to take it.  Still slightly disturbed, we went on ultimately.  "Yeah." He grabbed the paddles and continued to row us across the lake.  It was such a beautiful day.  And we were out camping.  It didn't need such sad words but that's what was coming about.  "Who is Emily?" 

Though my ass wasn't completely numb, it appeared so at how quickly I moved.  Not sure why I would jump like I did.  Obviously, it caught me off guard - more than that pet question sure did. I was quick to cover myself as best as I could with a confused face.  I also did my best to keep my eyes inside of my head.  Damn.

But that didn't solve the staring problem.  But what do you expect when the dude says something like that?  I was shocked and wasn't sure where to start.  How the hell did he know her?  No, how the fuck did he come across that name?  Oh my god, if he knew about her, he would leave Clare so fast... I just never told him because he would never believe me anyway because it was such a huge thing.  Also, it was something I knew Clare was quite nervous over.  I never said anything before because. I was sure she did everything in her power to cover it up.  There was most likely no evidence my sister was ever born.  Yet, why would it hurt now to tell him?

"How do you know that name?" I asked in such a voice, he will understand this is a serious topic.

He didn't answer right away.  He was surprised I think by the tone of my voice.  He finally spoke.  "Y-You said her name.  When you were beaten and unconscious, I was carrying you upstairs.  You murmured that name."

I felt my breath rush out in a deep sigh.  I gripped the side of the canoe tighter than intended, my nerves on edge.  I stared down at the water for what seemed to be the longest time before I knew I should answer soon.

"You can tell me, Albany.  You know you can," he said, snapping me out of my thoughts.  He stopped paddling and had leaned forward, resting his hand over mine in comfort.  Looking back up at him, I pursed my lips before nodding. 

I never spoke about this out loud to anyway before, besides Clare.  This would be interesting.  Staring up into his green and caring eyes, I discovered something that I loved about him become present again.  I wasn't sure of what his reaction will be.  It was frustrating but though sympathy was scrawled over his face, I was completely unsure, especially if I was going to tell him the whole story.  With his hand over mine, warm and comforting, I knew I would tell him.

"She was... my sister." I said, so quietly, I wasn't even sure if I had said it. Looking at him though, his expression, I know I did.

"What... what did you just say?" he asked, his face unsure, like he didn't know if he actually heard me right.

"Emily was my younger sister."

It took him a minute to say anything.  "Um... elaborate?" He was dumbfounded, his eyes all over.  His hand was still over mine, I was happy to report.  I think he even unconsciously grasped my hand a little tighter too, causing shivers to run up my body.

I sighed.  "How do I get any more clear than that?"

He shook his head, eyebrows low.  "I don't know," he said quickly, looking down and his eyes rested on where his hand rested on mine.  Pursing his lips, he looked at our hands for a minute until he slowly looked up at me.  He was unsure of where we were heading, in terms of the conversation as well as, I think... something else entirely. 

"What... happened?" he asked.  He didn't know how to ask; he just wanted to know where the fuck this was coming from. 

And... I told him.

"Clare got pregnant when I was about two or so.  By the time she found out, it was to late to get an abortion.  The dad..." I scoffed.  "Well, I don't know who he is.  Clare didn't really either I'm guessing.  When she found out she was pregnant, she was single and he was long gone.  He never knew.  Hell, nobody really knew.  Me only being three, I didn't know what was going through her mind.  All I know was that she went to the same doctor the whole time and didn't go to the hospital when it was time to have her.  Her doctor came to our house and had Emily delivered."

"Whoa, wait a fucking minute," he said, removing his hand and running it through his hair.  He shook his head and wouldn't meet my eyes for a minute.  "You're telling me that Clare got pregnant again.  At 17.  And you have a sister...."

"Yeah dude, I think that was just covered," I said, crossing my arms.  "Keep up."

"Mind telling me where she is?" He said, a little impatient.  There was a look in his eye... it didn't look happy or anything near sane to me. 

"First off," I said, catching his eye.  "You don't believe shit.  Two, if you quit flipping out from the answer to your question, I would get to it."

He looked ready to jump at me on the whole 'believeing thing'.  I swear, it appeared as if he did believe me.  He sighed though and nodded, staying as calm as he could. 

"Are we all under control now, children?" I asked, smiling slightly at how much this was freaking him out.  I wasn't sure at first how he was going to react but I can't help but get a kick out of this. 

He rolled his eyes.  "Yes."

"Alrighty then," I said.  "She had her baby.  And... I was so scared for her.  I thought Clare was going to kill her right away.  But she didn't.  I watched Clare try to care for her.  She would tell me how she hates us both though and she would start abusing her like she had been doing with me."  I paused, taking a deep breath.  Never said this before, out loud.  It was frightening.  Looking up into Luke's eyes, I saw he was truly captivated.  "I took care of her as much as I could.  I protected her but it was so hard and sometimes didn't work since I was only two years older than her."

"How would you protect her?"

"Well, no much.  I just volunteered to take her beatings for her.  Clare, surprisingly, agreed.  I didn't know it then but that was a disadvantage in some ways.  It lead to her death." I watched him carefully.  His eyes widened, breath hitched.  He didn't say anything though; just patiently waited for me to go on.

I don't cry.  But this was the first time talking about this and I admit, it made a lump form in my throat.  It was really hard talking about it now than I figured it would be.  I swallowed hard and hoped he didn't notice my slight struggle. 

"Clare saw how much I cared about her.  That I was willing to suffer for her.  Like with what happened with Birdie years later, she discovered then what my weakness was: others I care for suffering.  Clare already hated us both.  She hated me the most though I think.  I was her first, the one that supposedly caused my dad to leave.  So one day, when I got on her last nerves, she took it out on Emily."  I paused, swallowing hard.  I had to look away from Luke's demanding stare to the water.  I wanted to dive in right now and drown in my shame.  For wanting to cry and for what happened to Emily.  "Emily died when I was five years old.  Clare said it was my fault and that I killed her.  In a way, I did.  It was my fault.  Clare killed Emily because she was so incredibly upset with me.  She started beating Emily while I was watching.  And I..." I took a deep breath.  "I couldn't stand it.  She never saw so much agony on my face.  And she loved that.  She loved it because she knew I was hating myself at that moment.  Emily did nothing wrong; I did.  And that's why it hurt so badly.  Because she was getting my beating now. Clare saw how much it just tore me apart while beating her and... she took it too far.  She beat my baby sister to death.  Because of me."

He stared at me, his face... well, it was kind of blank.  His eyes weren't though.  Shades of green shinned in the sunlight, so bright yet so full of sadness and shock. I went on, feeling I needed to finish it.  "She beat her to death.  Then, realizing what she had done, she locked me in my room and carried her out.  I never got a chance to say goodbye to her either," I paused, my voice breaking on the last word. 

Pull it together... You think about this all the time; what's so different about talking about it.  Suck it up.

"She buried her somewhere on our property.  She kept me locked in my room for just over a day.  No food or water. I hoped she had been arrested or left for good but that wasn't the case.  She was just panicked for the most part.  But she was also at work as well.  She spoke with me later on, about how I couldn't say a word  to anybody.  It was strange because, after all, nobody would believe me anyway.  But she was just so nervous, not sure of what evidence could come up... she kept me locked inside the house for a month or so while she covered it up more somehow.  One day, she said it was fine to say whatever I wanted to anyone because they wouldn't buy it.  It was just strange to me because she did something to cover it up so much.... I think she might have removed any documents or anything stating she ever had a baby.  I have no clue how or if that's possible, but she only had the one doctor.  It was possible.  And the people that even knew of Emily... there weren't many.  Emily was kept locked up in the house, even more than me.  The only chance of anyone knowing of her really was if Clare was in public and pregnant.  And even if I could find someone to prove she was pregnant, she could always turn around and say Emily died while giving birth.  I've been over it so much in my head and I think she would be able to get away with either Emily died when born or before or just didn't exist at all.  Clare is pretty comfortable with it all so that's another hint that she wiped out all proof of Emily somehow.  The only time she is on edge is when talking about the property.  She's scared that one day, her remains will be found. She is somewhere on our property and since being home, I figure that she must be somewhere in the backyard.  I just could never dig back there without Clare killing me herself," I said, laughing at that harshly because it was the truth.  If Clare ever caught me doing that, she was so paranoid, she would kill me instantly or do something to make sure I never do that again.

Luke looked ready to throw up.  "I... dear god," he said, shaking his head, eyes closed.  It was nice seeing that his wife caused him to be so disgusted.  "I feel like I should do something."

I smiled.  Hopeless.  "Oh yeah, what do you feel like doing?  Checking into things that don't exist?"

He sighed, obviously forgetting. Once again.  It was so nice, knowing I was growing on him in this way. "I... I don't know," he said.  His eyes found mine.  He looked conflicted, which was nice to know he was actually thinking something over. "I just...."

"You just what?"

He hesitated for a minute before he reached forward, grasping my arm.  He pulled me over slowly towards where he was sitting.  Sitting besides him, I looked up at him in confusion.  Looking down at me with sorry and sad eyes, I felt him put an arm around me.  It was as if immediately, an awkward air grew between us.  We both ignored it as best as we could though. 

"I will always be here.  Cop or not, your mother's husband or not, I want you to tell me these things.  And though I can't go against my wife... well, I can try to put you in a position to locate such documents.  After all, you have a duty to your sister and it wouldn't interfere with me exactly."

Was he serious?  He was offering... to help me find evidence or this?  Holy shit.  He said he would be doing it in a way that wouldn't put him in the middle.  Or in the guilty chair.  He was doing this because he wanted to see some closure in my life.  But really, it was obvious he wanted to see if this could actually be true.  He was just going to stick with the excuse of me doing it because I would feel I need to.  Keep in mind though, he came up with this idea and not me.

"Wait a second," I said, distinctly feeling the genuine warmth in his arm around me.  "You are willing to give me access to private documents, illegally, to find any evidence that my mother did cover up my sisters death?"

He sighed and bit his lip, looking down at me with a strict eye.  "I will allow this because it is for you to hopefully find closure in her death.  And if you find nothing, you find nothing.  If you do come across something, then maybe it will help you put to rest these unanswered questions of what happened that are tormenting you."

Obvious, obvious, double meaning.  He said that but it his eyes, he was communicating he had suspicions of his wife.  He just wasn't willing to say that or go against her.  So he was saying that instead.

"And if I find something that says Clare is guilty?"

"Then show me.  But along the lines of this helping your sister and you, not me.  Because you desperately have been wanting this.  Do you get what I mean?" He asked.

I smiled up at him and never felt such hope awaken in me.  This had to be a dream.  Subconsciously, I felt my arm rest on his back to as I smiled.  I had a chance.  He was giving me a chance to show that Clare covered this up. 

Holy fucking shit.

"Yes, I get what you mean."

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 I was sick for a while and still don't have much computer access which was why it took a while.  Anyway, I hope you guys liked it.  Big step Luke is taking!  What do you think is going to happen? Also, what other questions would you like to be asked among them?