Chapter 8

Carol expected to hear screaming and yelling when she returned to the house. Instead she heard only silence. She checked out by the pool, but the pool area was vacant, so she walked toward the kid's wing of the house. As she neared Darla's bedroom, she could hear her sobbing.

The girl was lying on her bed curled up in the fetal position and crying as hard as Carol had ever seen her cry. She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her daughter into her arms. Darla clung to her like Carol was a life line, and Carol didn't try to open a conversation with the distraught girl until she calmed down, which took quite a while. Darla would start to gain some control, and then the sobs would start all over again. Carol couldn't understand why her daughter was so devastated. She'd expected her to be huffing and puffing, angry as all get out, not limp with sorrow and despair.

Finally, Darla calmed enough to answer Carol's questions. "Come on. Let's wash your face," Carol said and helped her daughter to her feet. In the bathroom, she instructed Darla to sit on the countertop, and she ran warm water over a washcloth and bathed her face.

"Where's David," Carol asked.

"I don't know. He threw me out of his room, so I suppose..."

"Threw you out of his room? Why?"

Darla's face clouded up again. "Because I said he was as bad as coach," she whimpered and started to cry again.

Fuck! The females in this family sure know how to piss off its one male member. "That's what I said to him last night that made him so angry."

Darla squared her shoulders, and a determined look entered her tear-streaked face. "Well it's true."

"No it isn't. It's so far from the truth it's cruel for us to make a comparison at all, and what's more, I know you know David isn't as bad as coach. Admit it!"

"He spied on me! Saw me naked!"

"Yes, and he's done the same to me, but that doesn't make him as bad as coach. I know you feel violated. I know what David can do makes him appear sneaky and dirty, but it's not the same. Trust me, Darla, it's not the same."

"He's probably watching us right now!"

"No. If he were, he'd have touched me so I'd know he was with me. He hasn't touched me, so I know he's not watching."

"He can touch?"

"He can see, touch, smell, taste, and hear. He says he wants to learn how to speak."

Suddenly fear filled Darla's eyes. "He touched me!"

"Yes, once. He told me about the time he touched you. It was before he gained much control over touch, and he said it frightened you."

Suddenly Darla gathered her anger and pointed it toward her mother. "How long have you known he could see me, touch me?

"Since last night. That's when I pissed him off telling him he was as sleazy as coach."

"He is! And you're just as bad. Why didn't you tell me last night?"

"Because it was his responsibility to tell you, not mine, and as soon as the two of you were alone, he told you, didn't he?"

No, Darla thought, not until he kissed me and put his filthy hands all over me. She shuddered with revulsion. She stopped feeling sad; she was angry, very angry, as angry as David had been earlier. She jumped from the counter and beat on the door leading from the bathroom to his room.

"Open the door, you fuck!" Her little fists slammed against the door over and over again. "Open the goddamned door!"

"Darla, get a grip on yourself."

"Open the door!" She slammed both fists against the door. "Open the door!" She kicked it. "Open the door!" The tears started again. "Open the door!" A sob jerked her little body and she slid down the door to the tile floor. "Open the door," she whispered and curled up into a ball. "Open the door."

Carol stared with her mouth agape. She didn't understand. Why was Darla so utterly devastated? It didn't make any sense. Had David touched her more than once? She needed a conversation with her son. Gathering her sobbing daughter into her arms, she helped her to her bed and started to remove her clothes.

"No! Leave my clothes on! He'll see me!"

Darla looked terrified. My God, what's going on? There's something more, Carol thought, something I don't know about, but I'm damned sure going to find out.

She tucked Darla in and sat by her until she went to sleep. Then she went looking for her son.

David walked in the door an hour later.

"Where have you been?" Carol asked.

"Walking."

"Darla is devastated. Why?"

"Because I did as you demanded and told her I've been invading her privacy. She told me I was as bad as coach, and I threw her out of my room."

"That doesn't explain why she's so devastated. Did you touch her more than once during your visits?"

"Yes, but she was asleep at the time. I catalogued her scents and tastes like I catalogued yours so I could call them back on subsequent visits to make the visits more realistic for me. Do you recall the time I did the same to you? No, because you were asleep, too. Darla didn't wake up, and the process was not sexual in nature." Which for the most part is true, he thought.

"I don't understand. She should be angry, not distraught to the point I'm worried about her mental health. Are you sure you didn't play any sexual games with her like you did with me?"

His guilty look told her everything. "You have, haven't you? Why did you lie to me?"

"I didn't lie to you."

"Then why are you looking so guilty?"

"You know, Mom, I'm getting sick and tired of your attitude. I touched Darla inappropriately while on a visit once and once only, and I readily told you what happened that time. If Darla is devastated, look to yourself for the cause. You're the one who demanded with righteous indignation that I inform her I invaded her privacy. I did as you demanded, and the knowledge devastated her. Did you stop to think that you might be old enough and wise enough and strong enough to understand, but Darla couldn't?"

"I will not allow you to lay this problem on me!"

"Fine. You and Darla need a scapegoat for your own problems, go ahead and use me. Frankly, I don't give a damn anymore."

He turned and walked from the room, and Carol laid her head on her arms and quietly wept.

Darla opened her eyes and saw her mother sitting by her on her bed. "Barbara is on the phone, sweetheart. She's all excited. Coach is in the news. He's been arrested. Do you want to talk with her or call her back?"

"I'll talk with her."

Carol handed her the portable phone, and Darla pushed herself to a sitting position. "Hi, Barbara."

"It's on the news right now? Coach has been arrested!"

"I've been asleep. What channel?"

"Five, but I think all the local news stations are covering the story."

"Let me look, and I'll call you back."

Darla and her mother settled on the sofa in front of the television. Darla operated the clicker, moving from channel to channel. Different scenes of coach, handcuffed and being led to a police cruiser flashed while commentators listed the pedophile's alleged crimes.

"David should be seeing this," Carol said.

"Yeah, he..." Darla turned to her mother with a sudden look of understanding. "David was the unnamed source, wasn't he?"

"Yes. He gathered all that evidence from coach's house while he was on a trip. He connected with you while you were at practice and then stayed with coach until he had enough evidence to get coach arrested without involving you or Barbara. He's quite a guy, Darla. Should I ask him to join us?"

Darla sat and stared unseeing at the television for a few seconds. "I guess," she said finally.

Carol rose, walked to David's room and knocked on his door.

"It's open," he said.

When Carol entered his room, he was lying on his bed with a book in his hands. "Coach has been arrested. It's on the news. Come and watch it with Darla and me."

"I'll pass," he said coldly.

"Come on, Son. Come and see the results of your efforts."

"Why? So Darla can tell me I should be in cuffs like coach. No, I'll pass, thank you." He went back to his book.

"You and Darla will need to deal with each other sooner or later. You..."

"No we don't. We have to live in the same house, but we don't have to deal with each other."

"Uh-uh. You're wrong. You'll have to deal with her and the situation in order to live in the same house, just like you had to deal with me. You'll need to sit down with her and..."

"If Darla wants to talk with me, I'm easy to find. She owes me an apology. If she thinks otherwise, I will not deal with her."

"You stubborn, mule headed... ! You're just like your father. Talk about me having righteous indignation, you take the cake."

"Ah hell, that's enough. Just leave me the hell alone." He went back to his book. "Close the door behind you when you leave."

Furious, Carol stared at him for a few seconds, turned on her heels and stomped away, leaving the door wide open.

David grinned, rolled from the bed, shut and locked the door, returned to his bed and phased out. He soon hovered in the living room and watched the news with his mother and sister for a few minutes. To honor his promise, he reached and touched his mother's left shoulder. She turned toward the touch and smiled.

"What did David say when you asked him to join us?" Darla asked when the news broke for a commercial.

"He said he'd pass, but he couldn't resist. He's with us now."

Darla swung her head around the room searching for him.

"Touch her, David," Carol said. "David has promised to touch me whenever he visits so I know he's present. That way I don't feel like he invades my privacy so much."

David touched Darla's hand. She jerked it away as if a snake had bitten her.

"I'm sure he'd make the same promise to you. Would his touch reduce your concerns about being watched?"

Darla shook her head. "Why should I trust him?"

"Don't tell me, tell him. He can hear you?"

Darla's eyes widened. "Spooky. It's like living in a haunted house."

"It does take a little getting used to. Are you thirsty, Darla?"

"Yes, a coke would be good."

"Ask David to get it for you."

"Impossible! He'd need to open the refrigerator, remove..." She stopped speaking and grinned maliciously. "David, may I please have a coke. In a glass with ice, please."

"And I'd like a glass of white wine, David," Carol said. She turned to Darla and whispered, "While he's out of the room, I have a suggestion. If you want to make up with him, you owe him an apology."

"No way. He's owes me an apology, not the other way around."

"Do you really think he's as bad as coach?"

Darla bit her lip. "No, not really, but..."

"Shush. He's coming back."

A tall glass filled with ice and cola along with a full glass of wine floated through the air. Carol reached and took the white wine. "Thanks, David. You're a dear."

When the other glass defied gravity in front of Darla, she reached and took it. "Thanks, David." She sipped from the glass. "Hmm, nice and cold. David are you still here?"

She felt a touch on her shoulder.

"I owe you an apology. You are not as bad as coach. You're bad, but no where near as bad as coach." She glanced at her mother and shrugged. "I prefer the real David. He talks back."

"He wants to learn to speak while on a trip, but to accomplish the task, he'll need feedback. Will you help him, give him the feedback he'll need?"

"Maybe, but he must apologize first. He owes me an apology more than I owed one to him."

A few minutes later, David strolled into the room, sat by Darla an apologized profusely. Carol left them to work things out when David suggested they sit out by the pool.

Outside, the wind gusted, and the air felt damp. Ominous clouds were gathering. Before they could start their conversation, the phone rang inside.

"Mom will get it," David said.

"It's probably Barbara. I was supposed to call her back."

A minute later, Carol stepped through the patio door and handed Darla the phone. "It's Barbara."

"Barbara, I'm sorry I didn't call you back. It's been a bit crazy around here."

"I understand. It's like that at my house, too. My parents are going bonkers and asking me all sorts of questions about coach. As we agreed, I'm playing dumb, but my mom wants to talk to your mom."

"Why?"

"I'm not a very good liar, so I think my parents suspect something. Anyway, tell your mom to expect a call from mine."

"Okay."

"If they decide to meet, I'll come to your house with my mother."

"All right."

"Gotta go. Mom wants the phone. Hurry!"

Dial tone.

"Mom!" Darla yelled.

"Yes," Carol said standing behind Darla.

"Oh, there you are. Sorry, I thought you were inside. Barbara's mother will be calling you. She doesn't believe the tale of innocence we concocted."

The phone rang, and Darla handed it to her mother.

"Hello."

"This is Helen Gaines, Carol. Did you see the news?"

"Yes, scary, huh?"

"Very. I'd like to meet with you and talk about it. Barbara is acting funny, and I suspect she's hiding something."

"That doesn't surprise me. I think Darla is hiding something, too. Let's put our heads together to determine what we should do, if anything."

"Thank you for being so understanding."

"Could you and Barbara come here? I'm going out of town mid-week, and I have a lot to do to prepare for the trip."

"No problem. What's a good time for you."

"An hour from now would be good."

They said their goodbyes, and Carol hung up. She sat next to her children and sighed. "You two heard my end of the conversation. Any suggestions?"

"Why did you say I was hiding something?" Darla asked.

"Because you are, and so is Barbara. Barbara's mother won't let it go until she uncovers something, like I wouldn't let it go if I felt you were hiding something from me. Think about it. A person in authority over young girls is suddenly in the news, arrested for pedophilia and child pornography, and that person was your daughter's gymnastic coach. The poor woman is terrified, and she thinks Barbara is hiding something from her. She's drowning. We need to throw her a life buoy."