Chapter 3: The More Things Change, the More They Stay the Same

Pain shot through Madison's inner core. Her heart was pounding, tears coursing down her cheeks. She let her head turn to look at her sister's bed. Melanie was looking back at her, nothingness in her eyes. Almost like she wasn't really inside her body. Frank stumbled over something in the floor as he made his way from Madison's bed to Melanie's.

"Goddammit," he cursed while he steadied himself. He was done with Madison and was going to finish off with Melanie. Just like last time.

And just like last time, Madison felt paralyzed. She wanted to save her sister, but there was nothing she could do. He was too big. He would just hurt her again. She was helpless. No! Madison's mind screamed at her. You can! Get up! Get up! Madison reached deep, deep inside herself to find something—anything—that would make her move. She reached around in the dark of her inner self until she grasped hold of something. It was a "what if?" What if this was more than Melanie could handle? The last time had been horrific and she'd never really fully recovered. What if this time ... what if Frank made Melanie go away forever. No! Madison mind screamed again. The fear and anger forced her to move.

Madison's eyes began to frantically scan the room, searching for anything. She saw the heavy stone replica of the Washington Monument that they'd gotten on their class field trip to D.C. Without hesitation she slid out of bed and grabbed the monument. It was heavy, so she grabbed the small end with both hands. Frank in his drunken state was having trouble getting in position on Melanie, and that had given Madison time to act. She moved over and without a sound raised the monument high above her head and brought it down with a sickening thud.

Madison jerked awake, again bathed in sweat and panting. It was dark in her room. She could hear Melanie's slow, deep breathing across the room. Another nightmare. But this time it was different. She had dreamt about the second time. The second time Frank raped her, nearly a year after the first time. She stopped Frank from raping Melanie, but this of course led to ... Madison swallowed and shut her eyes tight, squeezing a few painful tears out.

Why had she dreamt this? Her nightmares always started and ended with that first time. Madison assumed her conversation with Melanie earlier must have sparked the memory. She shuddered.

Madison tried to go back to sleep, but she tossed and turned until she could just make out a hint of sunlight peeking through her curtains. She decided to get up and go for a walk. She had much to think about, and being out in the serenity of a waking world allowed her to clear her mind of less important things.

She quickly but quietly pulled on a pair of denim cutoffs, a little pink t-shirt and flip flops. As she stepped out of the door into the stagnant, humid air, she lamented that it was already a hot day, even at 6:30 in the morning. Madison walked down her walkway and turned to head down the sidewalk, already lost in her thoughts.

After her short interlude with her sister the previous night, Madison had confessed that she was also in love with Melanie. Melanie seemed so happy, but Madison still struggled with her feelings. Had she somehow manipulated her insecure sister to do this ... this awful thing? She was so ashamed. How could she ever face her sister, whose emotional confusion had obviously led her to seek such intimacy with Madison? Melanie had begun to kiss Madison more passionately, moving from her mouth to her neck and chest. However, as Madison was preparing herself for her first opportunity to make love with a girl, her aunt and uncle had annoyingly returned home. At the time, Madison had been beyond frustrated. She was so aroused and had abandoned all sense of sanity. Looking back now, Madison told herself it was good they came when they did. Who knows what might have happened? Imagine how much regret there would have been then. She tried telling herself she was grateful for their intrusion, but she knew she wasn't. Not really. Deep down, she knew she had never felt about someone the way she felt about Melanie. Superficially, she was struggling to accept that, but deep down...

Madison heard a whistle. She glanced up and noticed their neighbor, Mr. Williams, tinkering around his yard. He was whistling to himself. She smiled, in spite of all her feelings. Mr. Williams just made her do that.

She wondered what his story was. He was a widower, according to Aunt Lynn, but she wasn't sure how his wife had died. Mr. Williams was probably only in his mid-30s and wasn't bad-looking. He was a big guy, over six feet and husky. He had fine blonde hair, an angular face and a trimmed goatee. He always seemed so light hearted and happy, quick to crack a joke or laugh at somebody else's. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that beneath that exterior was some sadness. She knew he worked from home, and so he set his own hours. He was also obsessed with working in his yard. He'd planted dozens of beds full of shrubs, flowers and ornamental grasses. He seemed to be out most every day, even the scorchers. And he whistled constantly while he worked.

Madison longed to ask him what happened to his wife and why he hadn't remarried. She could find nothing that seemed unappealing. As she got closer to his house, she recognized the song he was whistling. "Figured You Out" by Nickelback. She blushed just a little as she thought of the lyrics. For some reason she always found it weird that he was into alternative rock like that. That was Melanie's favorite stuff. Mr. Williams just seemed the type to probably prefer pop music or old 80s stuff.

He was tugging on a water hose as Madison approached, obviously trying to pull it loose from under a pile of rocks. At that moment the hose gave and he fell back on his butt with a grunt. She laughed out loud, then covered her mouth in embarrassment. He glanced over his shoulder at her, fell back to lay on the ground, and moaned.

"Fine. Go ahead and laugh. Just adding insult to injury," he said.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Williams," Madison said, stepping into his yard to help him up.

"Madison, my dad has been dead for 13 years. Why do you always feel you must talk to him instead of me?"

She stepped beside him and looked down at him. He had a goofy grin on his face. "Sorry. I meant Jack," she corrected.

"Thank you. Now do you mind stepping a little to your left?" She did as she was asked and her shadow fell over him as she blocked the sun. "Much better. Now stand there for about a half hour while I take a nap."

"But it's not even 7:00 yet. How long have you been up?"

"Oh, about 20 minutes. The heat and humidity just zaps me, though. I'm already exhausted."

"Would you like me to help you up?" Madison asked, smiling at his humor.

"Well, if you insist. Who am I to refuse the hand of beautiful young woman?"

Madison blushed a little in spite of herself. Jack was always complimenting her and Melanie. At first she thought it was a little creepy. She wondered why a thirtysomething would flirt with a fifteen-year-old. Then as she got to know him, she realized that was just his nature. She kind of liked the attention, as did Melanie, who often flirted shamelessly back. However, short of putting an arm around their shoulders and giving them that half hug/half squeeze thing, he never made any physical advances.

"So what brings you out this early?" he said as he brushed himself off and began rolling the hose.

"I'm out this early sometimes."

"But never on a Sunday."

Madison shrugged. "Just a lot of thinking to do."

"Good thinking or bad thinking?"

Madison didn't answer. Not because she didn't want to. She actually felt safe talking to Jack. She almost felt compelled to answer any question he might ask. He was disarming in that way. Though they'd never talked about anything really personal, she just knew he'd not judge or spread it around. Still, she didn't answer his question not because she didn't want to, but because she didn't know how to answer it.

He tried to read the hesitation. "Sorry. Didn't mean to be a nosy neighbor."

"It's OK. I didn't answer because I'm not sure how to answer it."

"Well, you start by opening your mouth and, while using your tongue, lips and jaw muscles, you form sounds. Push with your vocal cords and it's amazing the stuff that comes out."

She half smiled but said nothing.

"I see that this is serious. Let me see ... You didn't answer because you're not sure if what you are thinking about is good or bad yet. Which is why you came out here to think about it. Once you've figured out whether it's good or bad, you won't have to think anymore."

She raised her eyebrow. "Wow," she said. "Not a bad guess."

"What can I say? I got an honorary doctorate in Busybody with a minor in psychology."

This time she smiled a full smile. Dang, she liked this guy. Too bad she wasn't about 10 years older and more favorably disposed to the masculine gender. "Just trying to work a few things out, I guess. I find the fresh air helps me think."

"I know what you mean. It's why I spend so much time in my yard. I figure I can just work while I think. Some people feel thinking in and of itself isn't really work." He started to move away. "Here, walk with me a few more minutes, if you want. I've got to sort through my garden tools."

Madison gave the choices of going on her own or staying with him only a cursory thought. She'd much rather not think about her worries at the moment. They just chatted casually as he sorted through a pile of tools, throwing some away, and putting the others in two piles: need fixing and just fine. The conversation dried up about the time Jack finished, so he plopped into the lawn chair next to hers.

"So I'm going to give you three choices," he said, kicking his feet up on the little table in front of the chairs. "Number 1. You can say goodbye and be on your way, thinking about whatever it is you are thinking about. I'll start weeding my vegetable garden and forget this conversation ever happened. Number 2. You can just tell me what's up and see if I can help. And Number 3. You can have me guess the nature of your problem, like a game. Number 1 you don't want to do. If you did, you'd have left a while ago. Number 2 is way too boring. Number 3 is fun, plus you don't have the guilt of thinking you dumped your problems on me."

"I guess I'll go with number 3," Madison replied, smiling again.

"OK. Hmmm..." Jack leaned back, locked his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. "Your problem is related to ... guys. There's a guy who really likes you and wants more than just a friendship with you, but you don't know how you feel, and you are afraid of hurting him. So you are trying to figure out what you should do. Is that right?" He opened one eye and looked at her without moving his head.

She realized her mouth was open. Was she that obvious? It wasn't quite right, but it was pretty close. "How do you do that?"

"So I'm right?"

"Sort of. Not quite. But close."

"Let me rework ... Ummm, OK the guy wants more than a friendship and so do you, but there something between you that might not let that happen, so you're trying to figure out how to handle it without anyone getting hurt. Closer?"

Madison sighed. "Yeah. Closer. Are you going tell me your secrets for guessing?"

"No secrets. I figured a teenage girl is up early on a Sunday morning to go for a walk in this blasted heat. There's a lot screwy with that. I also know said teenage girl is thinking about serious stuff because she told me so. So I ask myself, 'Jack, what would a teenager be that worried about that they would give up the sanctuary of a bed and air conditioning?' Ah, yes. Boys. Has to be boys. And since its Sunday morning, that means dates must have been part of the equation. Only you didn't leave anywhere yesterday evening, at least not before dark, so it must have been a dating issue with someone you weren't going out with. Don't look at me like that; I wasn't spying. I was pruning and weeding my hollies and liriope yesterday evening. And since I'm on the neighborhood watch, it's my job to notice comings and goings."

"OK. I'll give you that. How do you know I'm worried about hurting anyone?"

Jack got suddenly serious. He turned to look directly at her. "Madison, I may not know you well, but we've talked enough that I know the kind of person you are. I think you would hurt yourself before you would hurt someone you cared about."

Madison looked down at her hands in her lap. That she would. She knew if Melanie wanted to have a relationship with her, she would allow it, even if it meant Madison facing her fears and announcing to the world that she was gay and in love with her sister. Or worse. Even if it meant never being able to tell another soul and living a secret life. She loved Melanie and would do anything for her. Even this. She could feel her eyes begin to tear up. She tried to stifle them.

Jack leaned over and patted her arm gently. "I can see you are beginning to work it out. Now you said I was close to guessing it all. Will you give me one more chance to nail it on the head?"

Madison shrugged but didn't look up.

"OK. I'll take that as a yes. Let's see ... It's not a boy. It's a girl. And that's one of the reasons you don't know what to do."

Madison felt like she'd been slapped. How had he known? Was she so transparent? Oh, God, let the ground open up and swallow me, she pleaded silently.

"I can tell by your face that I'm closer, but I'm still not there. But three strikes and I'm out, so I guess your secret remains safely hidden inside your head."

"It's my sister." She said it so quietly, she wasn't sure she even said it out loud. She immediately slapped her hand over her mouth and slumped over trying to bury her head between her knees. Stupid girl! her mind scolded her. Just confess it all, you freak. Why had she done that? She hardly knew this guy and had never shared anything so personal with anyone aside from Melanie. She wouldn't say another word. She couldn't. Call it damage control.

"It's not just any girl. It's my sister." Dammit, Madison. Great self-control. She kept waiting for Jack to curse at her and tell her to get off his property, or at least freak out on her. When he didn't she raised her head a little to look at him through her shroud of hair. He was looking at her with the gentlest expression. He reached over and put his hand on her arm.

"That's a heck of a burden for anyone to carry, especially someone so young. That presents a hell of a lot of problems, doesn't it?" His words were kind and understanding. She was amazed. Astounded.

"Don't ... don't you think we're freaks?"

"Doesn't much matter what I think. It's not about me, now is it?" Madison shrugged, so he continued. "You see, Madison, no one can tell you who you can and can't love. Only you. Not even Melanie can tell you who you can love. The world will try to sway you to its way of thinking. I can guarantee its response to sisters loving sisters will be far from pleasant. But see, it's not about them, either. Only you can decide what you can handle. If you pursue a relationship with Melanie, then you agree to face the challenges that come with that. That choice may be the right one. However, if you decide to end that part of the relationship, then you must face the challenges that come with that. That choice may also be the right one. Nobody can tell you which one is right, nor can anyone tell you which set of challenges you can handle emotionally."

Madison was quiet. She was letting his words sink in. Quietly, she said, "Then how do I know which one is right?"

"Oftentimes you just know. When you shut off that disloyal brain and listen only to your heart, you know. Sometimes, however, you need to choose a path and head down that one for a ways before you know for sure. It can be painful, however, to find out the path you chose was the wrong one. But it gets even more complicated than that." He paused and sighed, and Madison could make out a hint of anguish in his expression. "You may find your right path and Melanie may find hers, and they may not be the same. You may be twins, but you aren't the same person. Again, only you can know what you can handle, and only Melanie can know what she can handle. Does this all make sense?"

Madison thought for a moment before nodding. Her head was spinning. It really was complicated, and she could see there was no clear answer. She looked at Jack. "Thanks, Jack. Thanks for talking about this with me. And thanks for not thinking I'm a freak."

"I didn't say I didn't think you were a freak," he teased. "Just not about this issue. I think everyone's a little freaky in their own way." He stood up and stretched, and Madison followed suit. "I really do think it's time for a nap. Feel free to stop by whenever you need a listening ear. Your secrets are safe with me."

Madison thanked him again and headed around the front of the house. She hesitated, trying to decide if she should go home or continue on her walk. She decided to continue down the street away from her house.

Melanie lay in her bed and stared at the ceiling. She was awash with guilt and shame over her actions of the previous night. She had uncovered a secret love for her sister and had allowed Madison to touch her in the most intimate way. Now she was facing the emotional consequences. What the hell were you thinking? she chided herself. You are weak and fucked up. Melanie couldn't help but feel that instead of mending her relationship with Madison, she'd screwed it up beyond repair. Sisters don't do things like this.

She wondered how she could ever face her sister again. In addition to the guilt and shame she felt, she also had fear. Her feelings about Madison scared the hell out of her, and she was afraid of what her weak self would do if she was around Madison too much. Whatever it was, she was sure it would be unnatural and wrong. She looked over at her twin's empty bed. Where had she gone? Was she feeling the same way? Was she so disgusted by Melanie's actions that she couldn't stand to see her, either?

Melanie began to feel the flight response build. She needed to get out of the house, get away before Madison came back and they had to face up to what had happened. She scrambled out of bed and quickly threw on her standard attire of low rider jeans and a belly shirt. She grabbed her school duffel and shoved some clothes into it, along with some makeup and various toiletries. She slipped on her flip flops and was out the back door of her house. She made the frantic decision to head to her friend Jenny's house and see if she could stay there for a few days while she figured out what to do. She'd call her Aunt Lynn later and make sure it was OK. Not that she really cared much about what Aunt Lynn thought, but it just seemed like the appropriate gesture.

Her mind yelled at her. But you promised Madison that things had changed! Melanie wiped at a tear. Things hadn't changed. She'd foolishly believed they had. She foolishly thought she could be different. She was wrong. She would always be weak. She would always be screwed up. Maybe it was best to go away so Madison didn't have to deal with it anymore. Maybe that was the only solution. Melanie wiped the tears away.

She made it through the neighbor's yard and out onto the sidewalk and walked briskly away from her home.

By the time Madison stepped back into her house, she still had made no major headway on her dilemma. She figured if she couldn't come up with a solution in three hours, than it was no use putting off the confrontation any longer. She'd just have to face Melanie and see where things stood.

She made out conversation in the kitchen, but after determining that it was only Brad and Aunt Lynn, she headed down the hallway to her room. The door was closed. She hesitated with her hand on the doorknob, then with a deep breath, she pushed into the room.

"Melanie, we need to talk..." She blinked twice at the empty room. Melanie wasn't there. Madison let her breath out in frustration. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She turned and headed to the kitchen. Aunt Lynn was looking through a catalog. Brad was sitting in a stupor, slowly eating eggs and bacon. Aunt Lynn looked up as Madison came in.

"Aunt Lynn, have you seen Melanie this morning?"

She shrugged and turned her attention back to the catalog. "Why don't you look for the lazy shit in her bed? It's where she usually is this early."

"She wasn't there," Madison replied, letting the insult pass.

"Well, how am I supposed to know where she went? It's not like I have the time to monitor you girls' every move."

Madison wanted to strike back, but bit her tongue. Now was not the time. She had other things to worry about. She spun and left the kitchen, returning to her empty room. She plopped down on her bed and let her eyes scan the room. Now what? she thought. Why did she leave? Madison's confusion soon turned to anger. How could she do this, after last night? She just up and disappears, like she was trying to avoid Madison. Isn't that what you did when you left this morning? she told herself. Maybe she's trying to work things out, too.