Chapter 5

After several minutes, her emotional storm was over, and she lay dry-eyed, on her back, now, staring up into the darkness of her lonely room. She was alone, she had decided. No more, would it be possible for her to re-kindle a feeling of warmth in her for her mother. There is a thin dividing line between love and hate, and Charity felt disgust, betrayal and contempt for her mother, at that moment. Did she hate her mother? Most probably, she did. Her youthful idealism had been shattered, brutally, within a few moments, as she discovered that her mother had feet of clay. The mother who had nurtured her and trained her had become, suddenly, the lowest creature on the earth, and the girl did not know why... perhaps would never know why her mother had done what she had done. The youth that was Charity was all too ready to condemn... ready to hang a label... ready to hate what she had loved. Later, perhaps, with maturity of thought on her part, she would be able to reason it out, but at this excruciatingly painful moment in her life, she could only feel... feel the betrayal and the sudden hate; most of all, she felt the aloneness, as though she were lost in a trackless forest, her last dismal hope of rescue gone as the wild animals seemed to close in on her, their cries echoing in the blackness of the night.

The roar of Donnie's motorcycle crackled in the still darkness. She listened as he parked his bike and heard his footsteps as he walked along the side of the house, passing her window, on his way to his sleeping porch cubicle at the rear of the small cottage.

Donnie! Donnie, her little brother, was all she had, now. Suddenly, she didn't feel so alone. He would understand how she felt. She had to talk to someone, and Donnie was the only one she could talk to, now. Her heart was so near to bursting that she had to share her burden with him, ask him to prop her up, give her the moral support she needed. Yes! She would have to lean on Donnie... because it was just the two of them, now!

She listened, carefully, straining her ears to catch any sound coming from her parents' bedroom. There was none, and she assumed that the strange man had left, for, surely, she reasoned, her mom would not allow him to stay with her for the rest of the night.

Slipping quietly from her bed, she slipped from her room, threading her way, carefully, through the dining room and kitchen to the back porch. Unexplainably, her heart was beating wildly, and she realized that she had not thought through how she would tell her brother about what she had seen and heard in her mom's bedroom. Her face flushed. She could feel the warmth rising from her neck to her hairline. How could she tell him? What should she tell? Bear God! It was such a delicate subject. How could she bring herself to tell even her brother that their own mother was a common whore?

She stood, silently, before her brother's closed bedroom door collecting her thoughts and her composure. Inside, she heard Donnie moving about, and she assumed that he was preparing for bed. She hesitated. Should she bother him, now? Her own agitation was too great, she decided. She had to talk to him, tonight! Dear God! She felt that she would go out of her mind, if she did not talk to someone... someone who would listen. Someone who would be sympathetic.

Charity tapped lightly on Donnie's door. "Don... can I talk to you... ?" she murmured in a half whisper.

There was a moment of silence, then she heard him answer, "Sure... why not?" The door opened, his rather grim face poked out at her, and he held the door open for her. She walked in. He closed the door, looking at her guardedly for a long moment before he asked. "What's with, Sis... ? You look all uptight and strung out?"

She turned to him, her eyes beginning to mist, again, "D- Donnie... I've got to talk t-to y-you... ! I-I saw... S-saw..." She stopped, unable to continue for a moment. She swayed against him. Instinctively, Donnie caught her in his arms, her soft body molding itself to him; he could feel the trembling of her limbs and knew that she had experienced something that had severely upset her. It was nothing trivial.

"What's wrong, Char... you're shaking like a leaf? What's bugging you?"

Sobbing softly against his shoulder, she said, "J-Just a minute... or two... and I'll be able to tell you..."

Don held his sister close while she sobbed, inconsolably. He stood awkwardly, his arms around her, not knowing what to do for her. He had the strange feeling, suddenly, that he felt closer to his sister, in that instant, than he had ever felt before in his life. He stroked her back with his hand, hoping that it would stem the flow of her tears, and as he did so, he became, increasingly, aware of her lovely young womanliness. The supple, pliant flesh of her back, under the thin material of her nightgown, was warm and smooth to his touch. His hand drifted almost naturally down to the curving swell of her round, firm buttocks, feeling them silky under his hand. God! His sister's body was really something else! He had never held her close, like this, before, and unbidden, unwanted, he felt the sudden flood of his pounding blood into the flaccid tube of his penis. His cock rose to partial erection, quickly. It throbbed and jerked in the confines of his jeans, and he decided that he shouldn't be that close to her. She would certainly be aware of its erect condition in just a moment.

He murmured, "Let's sit down, Sis..."

She nodded her head in agreement. Together, they sat down on the edge of his bed. He tried to pull away from her, but she clung to him, almost as a child would cling to its mother.

"Come on, Char..." he said, "lay it on me... ! What's bugging you so much?"

Charity pulled back from him then, wiping and dabbing at her eyes to clear them of tears. She drew a couple of deep breaths; a deep sigh followed. Her smile was weak but brave; she felt as though she could control herself, now. The flooding torrent of tears, she realized, was only the womanly side of her showing. Now, she would have to be objective... describe what she had seen and get her brother's reaction and views concerning it. Objectivity, she recited to herself... objectivity and reason had to be applied to this, as to any other problem.

She pulled her feet up and sat back on her spine, doubling her knees and hugging them to her. In this position, she rocked back and forth for a moment. She could talk, now, and she began: "It was just awful, Donnie... what I saw... tonight! That's why I-I was so upset..."

Donnie lounged back on the narrow bed, pulling his own knees up, as he lay on his side facing his sister. He looked up at her and said, "Yeah... I know... the waterworks and all that... but what in hell did you see... ? You haven't said anything... yet!"

"Well... mom came home, as usual... but there was this man with her... and they were in the bedroom... and he was..."

"Fucking her?"

"Donnie... please!" she chided, the sound of the word offensive to her. "Yes..." she went on after a moment, "only he... d-didn't do it... like you'd expect... h-he put his thing in her m-mouth..."She turned away, her embarrassment flooding in on her, again.

Donnie was blase, unimpressed, "So? She sucked him off?" he said, spreading his hands and lifting his shoulders. "What's the big deal... ?"

"H-He p-paid her for it... !"

He grinned at his sister, knowingly, "So... you finally found out?"

"Y-Yes... I-I guess... S-so..." She still couldn't look at him. "I-Is she-she really... a... A... ?" Her sentence remained unfinished.

Her brother finished it for her. "A whore... The plain truth is... yes, she is!"

Charity turned, then, and searched her brother's face. "Wh- What can we d-do Donnie... ?" she asked.

"Split!" he spat.

"Leave here?"

"Like I'm gone... as soon as I clutch a little more bread!"

"Take me w-with you... Donnie?" she begged. "It's so mixed up... and all... and I-I've already d-decided t-to r-run away! Please... take me... ?"

"You Christ, Sis... how'd you get along? You haven't even tried to be a part of it... you don't know how to talk... or act... or dress... or anything! You're square!"

Her eyes began to mist, again. "Then, y-you won't t-take m-me... ?"

"Hell! I didn't say that... but you've got a lot to learn!"

"Then... you c-can teach me!" she brightened, leaning forward and planting a kiss, impulsively, on his cheek.

Don stared at his lovely sister, his mind racing, heart thumping, wildly, while down below, his virile penis throbbed, achingly. He couldn't believe the havoc her innocent kiss played on his emotions. Could he do it? Christ! He wasn't sure! She was his own sister! And, what he felt for her wasn't just love for a sibling.

No! It was much more. She was a beautifully budding young woman, a woman to be loved... loved well, with the hardened rod of his maleness. He wanted her. He had to have her!

With a trembling hand, he reached out to her and gently pulled her down beside him on the bed. His voice was hoarse. "Char... how much... do you want to learn... ?" he asked.

She struggled to sit up. "Don! Wh-What a-are you d-doing... ? What d-do y-you... Mean... ?"

He knew, then, that she was not ready to go the route he was thinking about, but maybe she could be brought around to it. He knew a way to it. His own experience and what he had learned from other kids, as well as what had been written in various popular magazines, told him that the turn-on from pot was the way to reduce inhibitions... intensify desire and add to the pleasure of sex. Should he try it on her? Damn! He ached to find out. She was so God damned beautiful... so innocent and virginal! And, if she really wanted to go on the street with him, she'd have to know all about grass and sex. Anyway, he rationalized, I could lay it on her right! Make he understand it... and like it... Hell! It'd be better if I did it... instead of some heavy dude that might mistreat her!

He allowed her to sit up, then sat up, himself, facing her with a serious face. "Listen," he said, "you know... almost all the street people blow grass... POP pills or drop acid."

"Yes... I-I've heard all about th-that.

"Everybody to their own bag like... but I don't go the pill or acid route... or the hard stuff, you know, H for heroin. People blow their minds that way!... And it's not worth it... so stay away from it! Don't let yourself get strung out!"

Charity struggled to understand his jargon. She got most of it; she heard it a great deal, not only from Donnie but from her classmates; however, she had made no effort to speak in that manner herself.

She cocked her head to one side and surveyed him, gravely. "What you're saying then... is that marijuana... i-is the only one that's s-safe... ?"

"Yeah... and a hell of a lot cheaper!"

"Isn't it against the law?"

"Sure... but some day the laws could change... and pot's the only one that's got a chance of being legal... !" he explained.

"Why?"

"Nobody's ever really proved that it's bad for you... or that it leads people to the hard stuff!" he rationalized.

"H-How do y-you know... ?" she queried.

"Christ! I've been blowing grass for over a year!"

She was aghast... completely surprised at his admission. She could only gasp, "Donnie!"

"Yeah... Donnie!" he mimicked. "And, it's the most! There's no turn-on like it!"

"I-I didn't know... Y-you..."

"That's what I mean... it doesn't string you out... up or down! When it wears off after a couple of hours... you're right where you were before. No after-effects... no side-effects!"

"You make it s-sound... sort of... well, you know... n-nice..." she murmured.

This was it, he decided. He would lay it on her. She just might be ready, now. His selling job must be working. Casually, he arose from the bed, ignoring the fact of the distinct bulge in his jeans where his throbbing cock demanded release, and walked to his bureau. In a moment, he had one of the joints he had hidden there. Holding it carefully in his hand, he turned to his sister and said, "I'm going to toke up... You can blow some with me... if you want... but I've got to trust you! I don't want you to go spilling your guts about it! It's got to be secret... just between you and me... O.K.?"

Her eyes widened in surprise and a fleeting look of fright passed over her face. "Y-You've g-got some of i-it... here?"

Swiftly, he checked the curtains at the window, making sure they were closed, then locked the door. He held up the homemade roach for her to see. "Yeah... right here!"

In wide-eyed fascination, Charity watched as her brother sat down, again, beside her, extracted a book of paper matches from his pocket and lit the marijuana cigarette, drawing the sweet-smelling smoke deeply into his lungs, holding it there for long moments before releasing it then exhaling the bluish-grey smoke with controlled slowness. He smiled at her.

"You ever try smoking, yet?"

She crimsoned. "Yes... I-I didn't I-like it... !"

"This's even easier... than regular tobacco, Sis," He drew a deep breath. "Want to blow a little?"

The rich smoke he had exhaled so close to her gave her a heady feeling. She couldn't help inhaling some of it; it was thick in the small room, already. She nodded her no.

He took another deep puff, going through the same ritual of deep inhalation, holding and slow exhalation, blowing the smoke, purposely, into her face.

"I-It smells funny..." she observed.

"It'll relax you..." he said, languidly. "It makes the whole world beautiful... for a little while. There's no problems... and there's nothing but love... The whole world is love... and everybody loves everybody. What mom does... isn't important anymore! This's where it's at... the turn-on to love... and beautiful things... for beautiful people!"

Her brother's voice, somehow softer, more musical... almost lyrical, washed over her, mesmerizing her, and she saw that he was being influenced, already, by the narcotic effects of the marijuana. She realized, too, that he was seeing things that were presently barred to her. He was in a world far distant from hers... in a world of love and beauty. True, it was a world of unreality, but the reality of this world, the part of it she had witnessed only a little while before, had been too much for her. That was the reason she was here, in Donnie's bedroom. She had felt so alone that she had come to him. For solace? Yes. For sympathy? Yes... But, Donnie wasn't there with her, now. He had fled... or was he leading her? At any rate, she knew that the real Don was not here; he was experiencing another world, a world from which he was beckoning her, urging her to follow him there to bask in the pure sunshine of that other place. Oh, God? Dare she follow him? The bridge over which she must cross was a flimsy one. It was only smoke, and yet... it was the way. She could see it hanging in layers in the room. No... perhaps it was not a bridge, after all. The smoke from his roach was an elevator. She looked up into the dimness above the light. What was there? She didn't know. Could she reach out to the smoke, grasp it and pull herself, carefully, over to the other side where Donnie waited? If she did not... she would be more alone than ever, and he was all she had, now. She bad to be with Donnie. Oh, God... I've got to find Donnie, again!

With a trembling hand, she reached out to touch his arm. "D- Donnie... ?" Her voice was small, the voice of a frightened little girl. "I-I'm so s-scared... and l-lonely..."

He gave her a bemused look. "Here's where it is... Sis! It's in the smoke! It's the smoke that sets you free! You want to turn on... now?" He extended the joint to her.

For a moment, she looked at it with next to loathing. The thing he was offering to her could be a monster in disguise. She was truly frightened.

"Here! Take it!" he said. "It's the only way you'll ever find out!" He put the cigarette between her fingers.

Suddenly, she knew. He was reaching out to her from that other, more beautiful place; he was reaching out to her and almost, literally, dragging her into it. Dear God!

She held the burning marijuana cigarette in her own hand and stared at it, unable to bring herself to put it to her own lips.

"You won't be sorry!" her brother urged.

"You're sure... D-Donnie... ? No after-effects... a-and n- no s-side-effects?"

"None!" he assured. "... And, it'll be everything I told you it would be! I wouldn't lie to you!" He stifled an urge to put the narcotic cigarette in her mouth for her, force her to smoke it, but he knew he couldn't do it that way. She would have to make that final move of her own volition. That final decision had to be hers.

Hesitantly, Charity raised her hand, the roach held awkwardly between her fingers, as she brought the wet end of the paper tube to her lips, placed it between them and inhaled lightly, drawing some of the smoke into her mouth.

Don watched her with a mounting sense of elation. Christ! She's going to do it!

She blew the smoke out of her mouth, experimentally, and Donnie said, "You've got to draw it into your lungs and hold it for a while."

Again, she tried; this time, successfully getting the smoke into her lungs and holding it there with determination, before she exhaled it. She coughed. "It feels k-kind of s-strange."

"It'll start taking effect... in just a little while." he assured her.

"H-How much does it t-take... t-to t-turn on?"

"You know... like maybe three or four deep drags."

She took another, deeper, longer puff on the joint, drew it deep into her lungs, and while she was holding her breath, extended her hand to give him back the cigarette. He took it from her and smoked in his usual, careful style, handing it back to her, again, as she slowly exhaled, clearly following his example and directions.

"I-I don't really f-feel any different... yet." She was still a little tense and frightened.

"Give it a chance, Char... but you'll know when it starts to turn you on."

They smoked, now, in silence, for several moments, passing the roach back and forth between them.

She recognized the feeling of euphoria as it overtook her. There was a feeling of well-being, but she noticed that now, although her movements must have been normal, it seemed to take an interminably long time to raise her hand to her mouth to take a drag. Time seemed to be standing still.

This must be it! Like Donnie says, 'This's where it's at!' She looked at her brother long and hard, studying his face. Strange, she had never noticed the tiny mole just below his left eye, before, but of course, it must have been there all the time.

Her fears began to fade. The tenseness in her muscles was vanishing. She relaxed and lounged back against the headboard of the bed, as she watched the patterns of the smoke in the still air of the bedroom. The stub of the joint was getting shorter. She took a final puff and handed it back to her brother, watching as he dragged on it, then extinguished it carefully, saving the unsmoked portion of the dried hemp leaves and destroying the remaining paper by chewing it to a pulp and swallowing it.

As she watched him, she began to realize how truly handsome her younger brother was, and again she found it strange that she had never thought of him in that context. He's really a good looking boy... almost a man, I should say... so strong and... well, manly.

Charity closed her eyes. She knew and understood the physical reasons for the pattern of lights she saw, seeming to appear just behind her eyelids, but she had not known that they could be so beautiful. What was I so scared for? There's really nothing to be afraid of... really. It just seems like all my senses are sharper... and brighter... I can hear better... and see better... notice things that I never noticed before... that is what seems so strange.

Opening her eyes, she looked directly into her brother's penetrating blue ones. He had shifted his position to lie back against the headboard beside her, leaning over her, Slightly. He grinned at her engagingly and said, "Sis... are you starting to feel it, now? Is it turning you on?"

"I don't know... Donnie." she said with languor, no trace of the former slight stutter of fear in her voice.

Then, matter-of-factly, he told her, "When you're turned on... all the way... we're going to make love! I'm going to fuck you!"

She, strangely, felt no surprise at his words. It was as though she had expected them, or her normal reaction to them was thwarted, turned aside, as it were, for in a perfectly civilized conversational tone, she answered. "We can't do that! Remember... I'm your sister..."

But, she experienced a tingle of excitement, a tiny tremor in her, and she was aware of it like a minute spark struck from a piece of flint against hard steel. She was the tinder box into which the spark of an idea was directed. She had no idea how powerful that one spark would be!

"We'll just forget that... anyway, it's been done lots of times... by other brothers and sisters..."

"Who... for instance."

He thought a moment. "The Pharoahs of Ancient Egypt!" he said.

"Well... we're not Ancient Egyptians!" She didn't really feel like arguing the point. All she felt like doing was relaxing and letting the feelings of euphoria wash over her.

"We could pretend..."

"Pretend what... ?"

"That we were Pharoahs!"

"Let's talk about something else, Donnie... something like the musical I'm going to sing the lead in."

"I told you I thought it was great... didn't I? Let's talk about sex! Did you ever see this?" He grinned lewdly, as he pulled a book from under the edge of his mattress. Opening it, he showed her the graphic pictures of sexual intercourse with all its variants. Consistently, all of the women were beautiful and shapely, and all of the men were endowed with penile members of monstrous proportions.

Idly, she glanced at the photographs as he turned the pages. They did not really interest her, until she saw one depicting fellatio.

"That's what mom... and that man were doing... except that he made all the motions with his hips... And..."

"He was actually fucking her in the mouth... ?" Don filled in her incomplete thought.

"I wish you wouldn't use that word... It's awful sounding!" she said. "Anyway, that's what he said he was going to do... and he did! I don't see how mom could..."

"Could stand it?"

"Yes."

"She probably liked it... most women do, after they learn to do it!" he instructed.

"Ugh!" She made a face of distaste.

"Don't knock it! Did the guy have a big cock?"

"Please... Donnie! Do you have to be vulgar all the time?"

"Like I said, Char... you're going to have to learn all the words!" he said. "Did he have a big prick?"

"How would I know! It was sort of short and fat like!" She indicated its dimensions with her hands. "I think," she added.

"Was it bigger than mine, Char?" he asked, boldly reaching down to loosen his belt and unzip his jeans, then dipping a hand in to release his erect, throbbing penis and bringing it out into full view.

Instinctively, Charity looked away, at first, but at his next words she looked down, fastening her eyes on it in amazement.

"Look at it, Char!" he had snapped.

"Oh, God! No... you're much bigger!" she gasped, unaware that her little brother had developed so much.

"Have you ever touched a cock, before?"

She blushed, instantly, and looked away. "Do I have to answer that?" countering with a question.

"I guess that tells me! Who was it, somebody I know?"