Si Peccavi, Insciens Feci
 

MICHAEL:

I'm sitting in the same room with my sister. Have been for a while now.

And we haven't killed each other yet.

Which is a miracle.

And it's so weird. Yeah, when she came in, she was like Les like I remember her. Total bitch. So damn cool, so damn right about everything.

But it's like she's breaking down.

What the fuck happened to her?

Dad hands her the wad of papers that I've probably read now at least a dozen times. Yeah, I hacked the NJ Family Courts first, but I made sure I read the originals. You don't think I'm stupid enough not to get verification now, do you?

Les grabs the sheaf of paper from Dad with one clear, sharp movement. Everything about Les is clear and sharp. Always knows what she's doing.

Or does she?

She says she's gonna read these outside so she can smoke.

Les smokes? I didn't know that.

There's plenty of light outside, if you turn it on, which Dad does for her, and goes for the door, and she's like, she doesn't even make any cracks about the seven locks on the door.

Dad's watching her on the video monitor. He looks kind of shaky right now.

Les starts at the beginning, that's the petition, my mom served my dad so it's Janet E. Frohike vs. Melvin J. Frohike. It says basically she doesn't want to be married to him because he's a lawbreaker and a jailbird and she's pissed as hell at him. Something also in there about, since he went to prison, 'loss of consortium.' I looked it up. It means no sex, basically.

She's not gonna learn anything new in this section.

Next comes the property division stuff. Basically, Dad forfeited everything to Mom. Mom had to sell their house, because she couldn't afford it, but if she could, it would have been hers.

I'm guessing Mom and Dad went a little over their heads in debt when they bought the house. I still remember it. Nice house, four bedroom colonial, pretty big. Had a great playroom. That's where Dad and me used to watch cartoons and build Legos.

Mom got all the furniture, her car, and just about everything in the house. Dad took some books and his clothes and records and his car, that was about it. And I guess he had to sell his car. Not like he was gonna get a lot of use from it being at Club Fed.

I think Dad was pretty damn generous, don't you? He was entitled to half. He might have taken like one twentieth.

The property settlement, it's sad, but it's not where the blood starts flowing.

That's in the custody agreement. The 'issue of the marriage,' the two minor children, Leslie Marie Frohike and Michael Andrew Frohike.

In 1982, I don't know what it is now, but then, in NJ, criminal offense on the part of your spouse, you could ask for sole custody, with no visitation. And get it.

And Mom did.

I mean, it's absurd. My dad is not a dangerous guy. Well, he is, but not to his kids.

And there's all the recounting of Dad's misdeeds, and why he shouldn't see us, and why Mom has all the rights to us, blah blah blah. Lots of legalese and psychobabble.

Les is a psych major. She should be good at this.

Mom's payment for giving up any alimony. Guess they call it 'spousal support' now.

She got us. Her way to exact revenge on Dad.

I look up at the video monitor, which Dad hasn't taken his eyes off of since she went outside. She's like on her fourth cigarette.

Took up smoking with a vengeance. She better not do it near Ally, Ally might rip the cigarette out of her hands. And smoke it herself. I think Ally was easier to get along with when she was still smoking.

And then I see something else.

Les is crying.

I don't think I've ever seen Les cry. She's so cool. I mean, even as a kid, Les didn't cry.

Course, you ask my mom, she never did anything wrong. So what would she have to cry about?

She's stuck on the custody agreement. I don't see her flip the pages for a long time.

Same thing I did when I read it. I stared at that page for a long, long, long time.

It was like, reading a real weird twist in a novel you didn't expect. A weird, weird twist, and when you read it, you go, wait a minute, is this for real?

Oh, it's for real.

Mom and Dad did what they had to do.

And me and Les paid for it. I'm sorry, that sounds mean, but it's true.

Right now Les is paying.

I can't help but feel a little smug here. It's about fucking time.
 

FROHIKE:

My daughter, the queen of containment, has tears streaming down her face as she lights her fifth cigarette in a row.

She lingers on one page for a long time. I can guess which page it is. It's page 13 of the document.

After this, all that is left are the court forms, the official forms that, in black and white, sever flesh and blood, and leave oceans of tears in their wake.

I can feel my stomach clenching, and my chest is so tight, I pray I don't have another heart attack.

Leslie probably is not aware that I can see her. Or maybe she is. She's an observant girl, doesn't miss much.

She did miss this, though. And having it slam her in the face with the force of a railroad train, well...

I'm crying as well.

The only dry eyes in the house, strangely enough, belong to my son.

He makes no effort to comfort me. Perhaps he thinks it's time Les and I suffered for our sins as well. He does know how to exact revenge.

"I don't think she's taking this well." He finally breaks the silence that surrounds us in this cramped, dark office, which suddenly feels very much smaller and darker.

"How did you think she would take it?" My voice is harsher than I would like.

"I dunno. I mean, she's always been like Mom's ally. She always was like, Mom's right, Dad's wrong, and I'm shit."

There is still deep anger and hurt in that voice.

My God, what have I done?
 

MICHAEL:

If you think I trust my sister, guess again.

I mean, yeah, she looks pretty busted right now. It's a little tough to take when you find out that someone you believed for so many years lied to you.

But why she even came down here, that's where I don't trust her.

Why now? Why would she all of a sudden come here? What's with her trying to make up to everybody?

Where is my bitch of a sister, and who took her?

I mean, she's still obviously a bitch. She was born a bitch, she'll die a bitch.

She's still crying. Hard. You can see her shaking.

I head for the door.

And Dad flips off the monitor this time.
 

She's still smoking and crying when I come outside. There's like a step you can sit on by the door, and I park it next to her.

"You okay?" I ask her, knowing full well what a stupid question that is. But it was like the only thing I can think of.

Les doesn't know we've seen her, she's like brushing off her face real fast, and she's like, I'm fine, what do you want, fuckrag?

Well, some things never change.

"Just thought...well, when I read it, I kind of got blown apart."

"Michael, blowing you apart is no challenge."

At least I know I'm talking to my real sister.

"Let's face it, you spent your whole life being blown apart by every damn thing, and I was supposed to be there and keep everything together..." her words get faster and faster, and she's trying not to cry, and not doing too good a job of it. "You were allowed to be a total fuckup, and me, I had to be so goddamn perfect all the time! You think that was fun, fuckrag?"

"Hey, you were the good kid, I was the bad one."

"Yeah, and look what it did for me!" She lights another Morley. Christ. She had to choose the rankest brand she could come up with. I hate cigarette smoke, anyway. Since last winter, it REALLY bugs me.

"Hey, at least Mom liked you!" We regress pretty fast here.

This makes her laugh, but it's not a pretty laugh like Kelly uses, but a mean, hard cackle. Les never had a real laugh.

"Mom. Everybody thinks Mom and I have this great relationship. Well, guess what, fuckrag brother? It ain't so."

Oh, really?

Then I remember...Les's partner is...well, not exactly what Mom would have chosen for her.

And Mom's taking it personal. Like Les is trying to get even with her or something.

"Everyone thinks Mom and I could talk about anything. Well, you know what? SHE could talk to me about anything! I couldn't talk to her! I was just supposed to sit back and listen to how hard everything was for her and how her problems were so much bigger than mine, and I was supposed to be so good so I didn't make her life any harder! Oh yeah, Michael, that was great."

She's complaining? At least my mom did something other than tell her she sucked!

"And making me look after you all the time. I couldn't even have a life because I had to come home every day and make sure YOU stayed out of trouble, which you never did, because you just had to be a jerkoff!"

Oh man. She hasn't changed a bit. She's still pissed at me.

But I think she's pissed at my mom, too. And I'm sure she's still pissed at Dad.

Face it. Les is pissed at everybody.

"Hey, you know, Les, I was just a kid."

"Yeah, well, so was I!"

And now, she's crying again.

Shit.

"You got everything you needed, Michael. I didn't get shit!"

"Hey, no fair! Not fucking true, LESLIE!" I don't usually use her full name unless she really jerks my chain, and believe me, she's doing it right now.

"Yes, it's true! You were the one Daddy came for! You were the one he missed!"

Oh man. Never thought about that.

"Do you think Daddy even thought about ME?"

"Yeah, actually, he did."

"Well then, why did he come running after you and not me? Huh? You tell me that, little genius brother! Everybody thinks you're so brilliant, I'm just your drudge older sister-"

"Hey, you always got better grades than me!"

"Because I worked my fool ass off to do it! And I'm still doing it! I've been in school almost ten fucking years, Michael. Ten years this fall. And I'm not done with my doctorate!"

"Whole time at Rutgers?"

"Yeah. The whole fucking time. I'm starting to really hate New Brunswick."

"New Brunswick deserves to be hated."

This actually causes her to smile, just a little break in that hard, hard mouth.

But a break.

"And you, everything comes so easy to you!" She's off on a rant now. "You just breeze right through everything!"

"Hey, for your 411, I STUDIED this year!"

"Oh, I'm sure." She's oozing sarcasm. "What'd you do, buy the textbook, flip through the credits and then you knew all the material?"

"No, Les, I worked my ass off, too! You think I got nothing to prove here? Guess again, big sister!"

"And what the fuck did anybody ever expect you to prove, fuckrag?"

"Hey, this crowd...Dad's associates...they're like, you don't do good, they'll fucking lose you. In a hurry.   These are smart people, Les. I'm like such an idiot here."

"Well, well, my little brother finally sees himself as he really is!"

God, you try to say something to Les, and she just twists it all around. And makes you feel like shit in the process.

"Hey, Les. I got a 4.0. Both semesters." She wants to be a bitch, I can be one right back.

This REALLY grinds her. "See? See what I mean? You just go in and whip right through it!"

"Hey, I earned mine!"

"And I slave and struggle and I've got a lousy 3.6...not exactly the greatest when you're a PhD candidate!"

"Nothing wrong with a 3.6." There really isn't. I mean, she's in grad school, for Christ's sake.

"Yeah, well, I remember how much I struggled with my math classes...no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't bring myself up over a B! I remember my first B. I cried for days."

God, back in those days, if I got anything other than a fail or incomplete...well, that would have been a miracle.

"Guess you didn't get the Frohike math genes," I say, and then realize, stupid thing to do.

"No, I didn't! I didn't get a lot of things!" She lights another fucking Morley.

At least Ally did Marlboro Lights, which don't smell so bad.

"So what's the deal, Les? You want me to tell you I'm sorry I was ever born?   Is that it? 'Cause there've been plenty of times when I was, just in case you think you got the market cornered on feeling sorry for yourself!"

I'm kind of distressed here about how much I sound like Langly, who comes off like such a bastard when he does this.

And then she's silent.

Gotcha.

"So what's the deal, Les? Mom doesn't like your girlfriend, is that it?"

Ooh, I stung her on this one.

Yeah, I wanted to go below the belt.

But the weird thing is, I want her to talk to me.
 

"I should have expected Mom would complain about Pam."

"She didn't say her name."

"That doesn't surprise me. Mom's heavily into depersonalizing." Yeah, you can tell Les's a psych major. She's got the babble down.

She's still sucking on a Morley. Christ, she smokes a LOT.

And I'm the one who's got all the lung problems. Go figure.

"What's Pam like?"

She looks at me, like this utter shock is all over her face. She freezes in mid-air, holding her cigarette, like what the?

She's probably REALLY gonna wail on me about that one.

"You really want to know what Pam is like." She's like, totally skeptical.

"Well, yeah." And I would kind of like to know. You know, not what they do in bed and stuff, but I mean, this person is sort of important to Les, and maybe I might be able to easier figure Les out if I know something about Pam.

"You know, Mom never once asked me about what Pam was like." She sounds sad. "This is the mother I'm supposed to be so close to, right?"

Bitter voice. Real bitter voice.

She sounds a lot like my mom, but more bitter. And that's a tough one.

"How long you guys been together?" Seems like a simple enough question.

"Two years."

"What's she do?"

"Pam is a writer and works for Borders."

Well, we know they're not rich. Sort of explains the fact that Les dresses as bad as I do. Well, she always did. I don't know what I would have done if she'd come and she'd discovered fashion or something.

"What kind of stuff does she write?"

"Mostly poetry, but some prose as well. She's working to get a poetry-play published right now. It's hard." She sighs big. "She's so deep into her work right now, I can barely get her attention."

Let me see if I'm doing the math correctly here. Not in good with Mom, sick of school, having a hard time with the significant other...

Is she here with some idea that somehow Daddy's gonna make it all better?

I got news for her.

Dad will NOT make it all better.
 

"I'm just so tired of feeling so...cut off. It's as if I have nobody."

Well, one thing you got to say for Les. She can sure pour on the woe is me.

But I know exactly what she means.

Been there, done that. Can still pull it off in a pinch.

"Being in a counseling program, by state law, I have to be in therapy as well." Brian told me that, I remember. "And one of the things my therapist suggested...was that I try to come to terms with you and Daddy."

So now we're like a homework assignment. Jesus Christ. I should've figured.

But then again, when I got here, mostly I needed a place to stay. It was only after I was here a while I figured out there was more to it.

So maybe Les isn't just using us for her studies.

I then remember she's in family therapy, that's her major.

Oh God. That is so rich.

The temptation to crack up is almost overpowering, and I start laughing my ass off.

END OF PART 12