Andrew Vachss - Down in the Zero

Eight o'clock. I took a shower, wrapped a towel around my waist, lay down on the bed and closed my eyes. I didn't even try and sort things— I'd be talking to the Prof soon enough.

A tap on the front door glass woke me up. I flicked off the towel, slipped into a pair of pants, walked through the dark house. My watch said 10:05.

It was Randy, standing outside the door, hand poised to tap again. I opened the door. "What?"

He stepped past me, agitated, moving quick, words tumbling out of his mouth too fast for me to follow.

"Hey!" I said to him. "Hold it down. Get it together, all right? Something happened?"

"No. I mean, yes. I don't know. It didn't just happen. I have to tell you—

"Randy, sit down. Relax."

"I can't. I…"

"Breathe through your nose," I told him. "Close your mouth and breathe through your nose. Deep breaths. Slow."

He followed orders, working at it until he stopped gulping air, sat down on the couch. I sat across from him. The only light was a moon–spill through the windows, enough to see his shape, not his face.

"Now…what is it?"

"I…lied, Burke."

"About what?"

"When you asked me, about secrets. Did I talk to anyone…?"

"Yeah?"

"Charm. I talked to Charm. That time she was here. When she went into the house by herself."

"You already told me about that." He mumbled something, head down.

"Randy, work easy now. Speak so I can hear you. Come on."

"Charm asked me about you. What you were doing here."

"You told me that."

"I didn't tell you that I…told her about Crystal Cove."

"That's all right. It's not much of a secret now, with all the running around I've been doing."

"Charm said to…keep an eye on you. I'm supposed to call her, tell her what you do."

"And you said you'd do that?"

"I told her no. But she…took me inside the house."

"I don't get it."

He started to cry then. First a bubble, then a dry sob…then it all went loose. Shame radiated off him like heat. I let it go for a while, saw it wasn't going to stop. I got up, walked around behind him. Put my hands on his shoulders, working the piano–wire muscles with my thumbs the way you loosen up a fighter before he gets it on. "Let it go, kid. Nothing's gonna hurt you now. It's pus, like from a wound. Squeeze it out."

I kept working until the sobbing slowed down, stumbled to a stop. I stepped back away from the kid. He shook himself violently, trying to throw something off his back— sweat flew off his body, spraying fear. When that stopped, he trembled. Sat there trembling.

I went back to my chair. "Tell me," I finally said.

"Charm was like my…babysitter. When I was a kid. I really…admired her. She's so tough. One time, she was jumping horses and she fell off. Broke her leg. We were all there, watching. Charm didn't say a word. I mean, you could see it hurt…her face was all white and sweaty and her leg…it was bent all funny. But she didn't say a word."

"When…?"

"In the seventh grade, that's when it started."

"What did she do?"

"If I told my friends, they would have thought it was great. So great. Like a dream come true. That's what Charm says, the trick is to come true."

"You had sex with her?"

"I…guess it was sex. What she did. It made me…excited. But I was scared too. I didn't know what to do."

"I know."

"I wanted to do it. I mean, after a while, I wanted to do it. All the time. All she had to do was touch me. The handle, that's what she called it. Charm says everybody has a handle. I thought she meant my…cock. But that wasn't it. The handle, it's the way you twist people."

"How did it start?"

"I was in my room. In my bathroom, taking a shower. And she just came in there. I was…embarrassed. But she did something…with her mouth…and I got excited. Then she did it. With her hand. Then she…hit me. Hard. It hurt. I was…crying. And she kept hitting me. She told me I was a dirty little boy. I was scared of her, but she did it again, later. Then she told me I had to do what she said."

"Did you ever tell? Tell anyone?"

"I…couldn't. I was…guilty, like. Like it was my fault. Dirty. I started…fucking up. Everything. I used to get all A's— I really liked school, once. And I was…beating off. All the time, even in the Boys' Room at school. I had bad dreams. Then I got caught…"

"In school?"

"At the mall. Shoplifting. The security people, they made me sign something, then they called my mother. She came down, all mad. She went in their office with them. Alone. When she came out, she took me home. And she showed me the paper I signed. Tore it up right in front of me. It was okay, she said. All fixed. But she wanted me to see someone.

"A therapist?"

"Yeah. Dr. Barrymore."

"From Crystal Cove?"

"Yes. But I didn't have to go into the hospital. He has this house, right on the grounds. And he has an office in the back. That's where I saw him."

"You didn't tell him about Charm?"

"I kind of…did. But not for a long time. He's my mother's friend. I'd seen him in the house. A couple of times. I could tell from the way she talked to him…I thought he'd tell her."

"Why didn't you just tell her yourself?"

"Charm showed me…pictures. Pictures of her and my mother, naked. Together…you know?"

"Sure. You thought they were lovers?"

"They were! You could see…what they were doing. In the pictures. They were…disgusting."

"Because of what they were doing?"

"Because it was my mother!" He started crying again. "And Charm told me…Charm said my mother told her to do it. With me. So I'd know how to do it. With girls, like."

"And you believed her?"

"My mother always hired people to teach me things. To play the guitar, or ride horses. Dancing. She always paid people to teach me. Charm said I would be…a homosexual unless she helped me."

"That's got nothing to do with her," I told him.

"I know. I mean, I think I know. But I never…"

"With girls?"

"Yeah. Except with Charm."

"Still?"

He looked down, quiet for a minute. "Yes," he finally said. "That's what happened the last time she came over. I didn't want to do anything, but…"

"It's okay. It takes time, to get strong enough."

"I'll never be strong enough. I thought I was. She…hasn't come around for a long time."

"Yeah you will. And soon, too. She was conditioning you, understand?"

"No."

"She started with you early, so you got used to…certain things. After a while, you feel like that's the only way you can do it, see? But it's a trick…a cheap, dirty trick."

"How could I…?"

"You already are, kid. If her stuff was really working, you wouldn't feel anything for Wendy."

"What do you mean?"

"How do you feel about Wendy? Like she's your sister?"

"No. But I never tried to— "

"What? Have sex with her? Don't worry about it. You feel like you want to be with her. Close. To protect her, right?"

"Yes."

"The rest will come, kid. I promise you. You may have to talk to somebody…some pro who knows what they're doing— some places you can't get to all by yourself. But it's already happening. You got a good throw of the dice now— let it ride."

His head came up, eyes on me now. "What do I have to do?" he asked.

"For now, you have to drive— we got a meet to go to."

I showed the kid how to park so we could cover the whole lot with one eye–sweep while we waited. A couple of minutes before midnight, Clarence's Rover glided past the gas pumps. They spotted us, rolled over to where we were parked. I was already stepping out of the car. The Prof came over to where I was standing, leaving Clarence at the wheel. He was carrying a dark green canvas duffel in one hand. We naturally rolled into a prison–yard position, shoulder to shoulder at a slight V–angle so we narrowed the exposure of our backs and could watch the maximum vista. The way it's done, your mouth hardly moves but your eyes never stop.