Come to Me

"Come to me, Gus."

Ellie lifted her head from her book. She scratched her salt watered scalp, and aimlessly twirled a damp clump of hair in her left fingers. She brought it to her lips, and widened her eyes as her tongue was shocked by the grit and brine she tasted as she methodically drew the hair in and out of her mouth.

"Come to me, I said, Gus!"

With a well trained eye Ellie watched her younger brother trudge obediently from the ocean's edge, and into their mother's open arms.

"My good, good boy," their mother purred, her milk white arms encircling the shivering boy.

"Mama, Mama, did you see, did you see?" Gus began to squirm in her grasp. "Mama, I went all the way in, and I wasn't scared Mama, I wasn't scared, not at all!"

Their mother stroked Gus's hair as Ellie had seen others stroke the fur of their cats and small dogs. But the Benson's had no pets; pets were messy and tiresome. Ellie had lived most of her eleven years harboring unspoken envy for a family dog. He's not an animal she thought about Gus, wrinkling her nose.

"You did go in, I saw, my brave boy."

Gus leapt from their mother's lap and began to run frantically on the beach. Posturing as first a soldier, and then a fearless swordsman, he acted out with the carefree abandon of any seven year old, while their mother smiled mischievously from her shaded lounging chair.

"Elizabeth." Cutting and sharp, their mother turned to face her

daughter. "Please remove your hair from your mouth. That is a filthy habit no child of mine is to ever have."

Guiltily Ellie extracted the soggy strands from her mouth.

"Mama, can we camp out on the beach? Mama, can we stay here all day? Mama, I want to show you my swimming again." Gus pounced at their mother, widening his brown eyes, and biting his lower lip. He stood before their mother, hands held saucily and firmly at his hips, his thin boy's legs tanned and sandy, toes grasping at the ground.

"No, my love, we can't stay forever," came the disappointing reply. Gus shifted his weight, and begged yet again.

"Oh, Mama, for me, for me, please? Ellie wants to stay, I know."

Ellie examined the ragged fingernail on her right index finger. Starting at her ankle, she dragged it heavily up the length of her own tanned legs, watching with wonder as the nail left a jagged white path. Like Hansel and Gretl, she thought. Leaving a trail. So that someone would know it had been there. Like someone would remember she had been there.

"No I don't. I don't want to stay." Ellie didn't even look up when she spoke.

"Of course Elizabeth doesn't want to stay, Gus. She'd much rather disfigure herself." Again, their mother turned sharply to face her only daughter. "Besides, we need to go home and prepare for The Party."

The Party was an annual event thrown by the Benson's towards summer's close. It had managed to take on nightmarish humanistic qualities in Ellie's mind, seeming like some sort of goliath creature who snapped and snarled in the shadows, while a hired big band played boisterously in the background. In reality, it was an excuse for Daniel and Nina Benson to boast the best in catering, garden tents and rented manpower on the grounds of their oceanfront estate to a guest list that included the very best friends and the very worst enemies. Ellie and Gus had much practice in the art of cutesy smiles and pleased-to-meet-you's. After generous platefuls of elaborate food were abandoned in favor of stealthy games of hide-and-seek under buffet tables and behind boxes of liquor, they were inevitably caught, and made to perform the "children going off to bed" ritual that achingly reminded Ellie of the ball in The Sound of Music. So much so, in fact, that she wished and prayed for more brothers and sisters so that they could sing a musical number, and when none materialized, she tried to coax Gus into learning a song. Their mother discovered the children as they were climbing into costume that night, and put an end to the whole embarrassing shenanigan, crushing Ellie's dreams.

Deeper now Ellie drove her fingernail into her skin. She was pretty sure their mother was talking about her leg when she said that word "disfigure", but would rather look it up in her thousand page dictionary at home than ask their mother to explain. And so deeper she did scrape it, finally drawing a cool, thin line of bright red blood. Ellie wondered if she painted it on her pale lips would she look like their mother, dressed and made up for The Party.

"Mama, Ellie's got blood on her!" cried Gus, more out of mischief than panic.

Before she could blink, or stir to deliver a smack to her brother's grinning face, Ellie felt her fingers being snatched away from her leg, and pulled on hard enough to stand her up.

"Stand up straight, Elizabeth, and mind your posture." Their mother shook Ellie free from the grip of her long, manicured red nails. "Don't be disgusting. What will people think of you tonight, all covered in scrapes."

"They'll think I was a child, Mother, playing." Ellie dropped into a slouch, after bending to retrieve the novel that had been partially buried in sand.

"Nonsense, they'll think I am a negligent mother. Which I am not." Snap went the beach umbrella, closing with an angry sound.

Negligent. Ellie stored that away to add to the list of things to look up later. Did it maybe mean loving? Ellie wondered.

"Mama, where's Daddy? Where's Daddy? I wanted him to see me be a swimmer. I'm not afraid of sharks, Mama, did you know that?" Gus jolted ahead of their mother and Ellie as they began to plot the course towards their home. Running back to be next to them, he assaulted them with sprays of sand from his bounding feet, and his proclamations of accomplishments.

"Of course you're not afraid of sharks, Gus. You're far too much of an exceptional child to fall victim to such things. No son of mine would be scared to tackle the waves like you."

The memory of Gus timidly dipping his toe in the ocean only hours before flashed in Ellie's mind. While she plodded into the waves with confidence, if not boredom, she seethed at her little brother's contorted faces of fear and anguish as he muttered to himself about sharks and scary waves. Why couldn't he just swim in like her, she wondered. Why is he such a baby? When finally he had made it in waist deep he tipped himself forward, picked himself up, and scurried by Ellie's side, whispering gravely to her, "Ellie, I went pee right now, don't tell."

"Where is Daddy?" challenged Ellie.

"He's at the house, making some final arrangements for The Party, I'm sure. Unless of course he had a golf game. Or a private tennis clinic with sweet young Kimmy Carlisle."

"Bitter" was a word Ellie did not need to look up.

Hours later Ellie leaned against a flower wrapped column that helped to hold up the enormous outdoor tent. From her hidden position she could easily keep her keen eyes on both the whereabouts of Gus, as he crawled underneath tables and shrubbery, and more interestingly the guests as they mingled.

Ellie stared intently at a group of women who had gathered near by. She recognized one as the mother of one of her least favorite classmates, Johanna Engel. Ellie was fascinated with Mrs. Engel, watching her hips sway as she plucked another flute of champagne from each passing tray, never causing any pause in the chatter. For a mother Mrs. Engel looked suspiciously young, her large firm breasts and tiny waist sheathed in some sort of clingy, shiny material. Ellie tilted her freckled chin downward, and stared straight past the board flat front of her sundress and right at the toes squished in her sandals. She pulled both hands out from behind her and smoothed them slowly down from her collarbone to her waist, feeling nothing but the heat of her sun-baked skin. She longed to touch Mrs. Engel's breasts, and more so, longed to feel her own someday soon. Their mother had small breasts, and never had Ellie seen them, not even as a baby. Ellie had been bottle fed, and raised in a house where flesh was covered to all degrees of propriety. Her mother's breasts, and breasts in general, then, were a mystery to Ellie, one she didn't expect to solve ever, until she had grown her own.

Mrs. Engel had meanwhile convinced Mr. Engel to join her on the dance floor. Ellie adjusted her sights to watch them. Coyly Mrs. Engel draped her husband's hands on her see-sawing waist, and with a grin, he gladly obliged. Was this okay? Ellie wasn't sure if husbands and wives were allowed to act like that. They looked more like the teenagers their mother scoffed at on the television, or when they passed them in malls, coupled off and sneaking touches. Ellie felt her own bony midsection, not finding any sort of ridge or crest to rest her fingers on, instead letting her hands drop to the sides with a decided smack on her thighs.

"Boo!" squealed Gus with glee. He smashed into his sister, making her lose her view of the Engels.

"Stop it, Gus," she hissed. "You're going to get us in trouble."

"No I'm not. I don't get in trouble. Ha ha."

Ellie pinched him hard on his arm.

"Ow!"

"Shut up."

Gus' pout fell, and a somber look clouded his face.

"Ellie...look," Gus said quietly. His short finger was extended, pointed firmly, sending out some sort of beam that stretched right across the room, and spotlighted their father, as a parting in the crowds had exposed him to view.

Their father was in a corner of the tent, close to the makeshift stage the band was using. Emerging from behind a potted tree was a stunningly beautiful blonde. Their father was holding her hand, and helping her back into the party, but she tugged him back towards their place of concealment, and they fell out of view, as Ellie could just barely make out her heavily-braceleted arm as it encircled their father's waist, and dropped casually down to caress his back.

"Who is she, Ellie?" enquired Gus.

"Shh, I don't know. Nobody. Stop looking, it's nothing." Suddenly Ellie knew of no other feeling than wanting to shield her brother. From just what, she didn't know, but it was so intense that she grabbed him violently by the hand, and led him away from her lookout spot.

"Where are we going?"

"To find Mother, and remind her it's bedtime."

"Is it already?"

"Yes, and she'll be mad if we're out here much longer."

Ellie could sense things were teetering on some sort of edge. It was as if she'd just poured the vinegar down the painted shaft of the model volcano her class had built last term at school, and they waited for the gooey lava to pump its way over the sides. The image of her father and the woman burned her eyes, and she was scared this pain would transfer to Gus. And she was scared of their mother, and her seeing this in her children's faces. And the wrath that she knew lay under their mother's polished and mannered surface.

Their mother was speaking in low tones to the caterer. Her hands made delicate sweeping motions as she explained how she wanted the food tables condensed and the bulk of the clutter to be swiftly taken away. Patiently Ellie stood behind them, still clutching Gus' hand, digging his skin with her nails, knowing she had the capability to draw blood should she need to silence him. The scar on her leg was testament to the workings of that very sort of experiment.

Once the caterer had bowed slightly and left, Ellie softly touched their mother's elbow.

"Mother."

"Elizabeth and Gus, where have you been?"

"We've been staying out of the way, Mother. I think Gus is tired, and so am I. May we say goodnight?"

"Yes, I will take you around. Let me find your father. Have you seen him?"

This was a test Gus needed to pass. Better yet, it was a test Ellie needed him to pass. Would she need to dig her fingers deeper?

"I haven't seen him, Mama," piped in Gus.

Ellie unclenched her hand and loosened her grip.

"There he is, never mind." Their mother guided them towards the stage, where their father was joking with several men in suits. Ellie shook her head and blinked at the sight of him. Where did the lady go, she wondered, and so quickly? Had they really seen him?

"Daniel, I need to borrow you," said their mother.

"Coming, Nina. Excuse me, gentlemen."

Their father smiled winningly, and stepped aside with his wife.
Ellie positioned herself at just such an angle so that she could hear their every word, but she faced away from them.

"Delightful night, wouldn't you say?" This was their father.

"Daniel, I want you to put your dick back in your pants for ten minutes, and help me escort our children around to say goodnight."

With that the blood drained from Ellie's face, and her mouth went dry. Never in her life had she heard their mother speak like that.

"I beg your pardon, Nina?"

"You heard me. I am well aware that your either have it out to be stroked by any one of a dozen underdressed sluts, or to play whose is bigger with the boys. This is the one goddamned night a year we can convince society that we are a happy, well-adjusted family, and I refuse to let you spoil that for me." The hostile tone was sharper than Ellie had ever heard in their mother's voice.

"I see." Their father was speaking to her with such a coolness, that it made a shiver work its way down Ellie's spine. "I see," he said again. "Look, Nina, there's Kyle Dorset. Isn't he looking well?"

Ellie searched out the crowd to see if she too could spot who their father was singling out.

"Hello there, Kyle!" Ellie heard their father speak loudly, and saw a young man wave back somewhat uneasily. She eyed him curiously, and saw that he reminded her very much of Gus just minutes ago when he first saw their father's indiscretion. With a childlike bowlegged turn, this Kyle Dorset headed away from them, towards the bar.

"Are you trying to make some sort of point, Daniel?"

"Whatever do you mean, my darling?"

Ellie was confused. Why was he making it sound so mean, that word "darling"?

"Can we please proceed?" their mother implored.

"Certainly. We should be sure to introduce our son to Kyle, shouldn't we? It's so very nice of him to show up at our shindig after all these, what, eight years or so?"

"You disgust me, Daniel." Their mother was immediately behind them now, her hands planting themselves on their narrow shoulders.

"What's that saying? Something about a pot calling the kettle black?"

What in the world were they talking about? Ellie decided right there and then that she would not fall asleep. Instead she intended on seeing her brother to bed, and then sneaking back into the party, unseen, to do a little spying. Her heart throbbed so much just thinking of the mixture of fear and discovery that awaited her that it began to hurt her ears, these deafening thuds, and she raised her palms to cover her ears to shut it out.

"Take your hands down, Elizabeth, you look like a monkey," admonished their mother. "Mr. and Mrs. Somers, my children Elizabeth and Gus would like to say goodnight to you."

Like a puppet show they took the circuit, shaking hands, tolerating face pinches and patronizing pats on the head, all the while smiling politely.
Ellie began to understand their mother's smile right then and there. She looked long into the treasure trove of her memories, and knew this smile was the carefully practiced look their mother wore at all occasions like this one; as if it were something on her dressing table, tucked in one of her many velvet lined boxes, and pulled out and put on, like a necklace or a shade of lipstick. It was a costume of sorts--a disguise, Ellie recalled one of her favorite vocabulary words. Eyes wide with wonderment she watched her mother perform, and allowed herself to see a little under the surface.

When Gus was tucked safely in his bed, and Ellie in hers, she counted to five hundred, slowly, making sure no one would pop their head back in to check on them.

Ellie felt as though she was peeling layers off a piece of fruit-some food she'd maybe never eaten before with a perplexing outside, and a mysterious inside. She wasn't sure if she would wince with the bitter taste, or find so much sweetness that she would be free to enjoy every last drop, and possess some grown up sense of understanding.

With these thoughts to propel her small bare feet, Ellie eased open her bedroom door, and tiptoed down the hallway. The party had managed to stay outdoors, and Ellie had used their goodnight rounds to scope out appropriate hiding places. She was on her way down to fold herself into a living room curtain, when the sound of a nearby door opening caught her attention.

Quickly she ducked behind a chair, just opposite the opening door, and steadied herself in a crouched position.

Their mother's dark curls instantly gave her away as she leaned gently out of the doorway, checking for something out in the hallway, Ellie wasn't sure what. Their mother stepped out into the hall, and crossed quietly to the powder room.

It was then that Ellie sprung from her hiding place, and followed the urge to explore the guest room that their mother had just exited from. I'm looking for clues, she told herself. Like a detective, like how Gus and I play sometimes.

The room though was surprisingly unrevealing. In fact, it look completely in order and undisturbed, the way their mother insisted it be. Ellie remembered their mother's constant admonishments about playing in rooms that weren't meant for children. This guest room was on that list of all that was forbidden, with it's queen sized bed plentiful with pillows, and a mattress ripe for bouncing on. Hearing approaching footsteps, Ellie once again concealed herself, drawing her tensed body behind the drapes.

"It's okay, no one with bother us here."

Again, their mother was in the room.

"You're sure, Nina? You're the hostess, won't Daniel, or someone-"

"Shh, no, no. Don't worry."

Who was that man? Not their father, Ellie knew. The lights suddenly went out, and Ellie breathed deeply, inhaling the darkness, and willing it to help keep her hidden.

"Come, sit with me," invited their mother.

"Nina, you look so beautiful, I have been trying not to stare all night."

"It wouldn't matter. Daniel has far too many whores to distract him. He knows what went on between us, Kyle. He's already judged me. He's accepted everything about Gus."

Kyle? Ellie searched her mind and matched the name with the picture of the man whom their father had pointed out earlier. But Gus? What about her brother? Ellie willed herself to stop trembling.

"He's a beautiful little boy, Nina. I have always treasured every photo you sent me. But seeing him in the flesh--it was all I could do to not grab him and hold him."

"I know. He's an incredible child. Nothing like Daniel, and Daniel knows it." The laughter that their mother used to punctuate her last remarks chilled Ellie right down to her soul. Even in the darkness she could sense a number of things coming to light.

"Kyle. Come to me."

"Nina..."

"Come to me, I said, Kyle."

Not an ounce of sternness tinted her tone. Their mother spoke gently, delicately, with a drop of what Ellie would grow to learn meant longing. She recognized it as how she felt about her child-body; the sound of her thoughts as she wished to feel special, and beautiful, and touched by someone else's hands.

Ellie began to pick up sounds of soft moaning, and lips meeting bare flesh, and other lips. Whenever she watched a movie with kissing scenes Ellie squeezed her eyes shut, and listened to the noises, while sometimes she pictured a grown up version of herself in the scene instead. It wasn't hard this time to picture their mother in her place, with Kyle as the man.

Ellie wasn't sure how long she sat there, wide awake, and paying close attention to the sounds of their mother making love to another man.

After the rustling of the bed sheets and the quiet bursts of unintelligible comments and noises subsided, Ellie once again inhaled the dark silence, until finally they spoke.

"Nina, my god, you're amazing."

"I'm so glad you came to me, Kyle. I'm so glad you saw your son. I wish it didn't have to be this way."

Kyle laughed. "No, you don't. You have your home, your place in society, your successful husband and your two children. You want for nothing more."

"You think so little of me, Kyle."

Again, he laughed. "Ah, darling, you're wrong. You think so little of yourself, and moreover, so little of me."

"Of you? How so?"

"You play me like an instrument. I think the world of you, I worship your body, I feel like no other man on earth when I make love to you, but you let me walk away from you, and our son, because that is exactly how much you hate yourself. And that is the ugliest thing about you, Nina. So ugly that it makes it easier for me to leave, rather than witness one minute more of your carefully orchestrated scheme."

"You don't love me, do you?"

Ellie had never heard such a crack in their mother's voice before.

"More than you will ever love me, I'm afraid."

Love. Ellie thought maybe she should look up that tiny little word again, for maybe that would make things easier to understand. Did her father love their mother? Did their mother love Ellie, and if so, just as much as she loved Gus? And this man, Kyle, did their mother love him, too? Ellie fought so hard to suppress a scream. This was too much for her. This fear was bigger than any scolding. Someday she knew that she would leave their mother, and her father, and even her brother. And that she would have to puzzle out what it meant to be in love, and to be loved. Right now, though, she wanted nothing more than to run and run and run. Run so far and so fast that not even her legs would ache from the exertion, nor would her lungs feel burdened.
The next sounds that Ellie heard were that of someone dressing and leaving the room, the door shutting softly behind them.

Their mother's sobs were choking and harsh. Long, muffled wails escaped her, sounding like a pain Ellie had never felt before--not when Grandpa Benson had died, or when she'd fallen off her bike two summers ago and broke her arm. Ellie began to cry too, only silently, with great big tears dropping like rain from her cheeks and staining her nightgown. She tasted one, and it was bittersweet--salty and warm. Ellie ran her hands down her front like she had done before, only this time she wished that the changes wouldn't come so soon, that please, god, she wasn't ready, she was so scared. She had never know their mother to cry before, and never knew she was capable of crying so violently at that.

Ellie stroked herself again and again, repeating her fervent wishes in her head, vowing also to never tell Gus, for that might break his heart, and wanting nothing more than to not upset their mother, for fear of consequence, although she didn't know that 'consequence' was the word for it yet.

That night Ellie fell asleep behind the drapes, hearing only the sound of her mother crying, and clinging to every last shred of her own precious innocence.

"Come to Me" was written in July 2001 and presented here on October 17th, 2003 by the Sassy Little Punkin (Lindsay William-Ross).

Please respect what you have read and the author by not copying, quoting without authorization or what is commonly known as stealing, lifting, plagiarizing, etc. That would be way uncool and would result in some baaaaad ass karma. And, somehow, I'd find out. Trust me. If, however, you are so moved by my talents that you want to publish this, feel free to drop me an email. Thanks!