Copyright 1991 Aya Katz
FROM THE DIARY OF VERITY LACKLAND
When I finally came out for breakfast, they were all there together, seated round the table, like one big happy family. I thought I was going to be sick.
"Well, there she is," Mom said. She got up to greet me and gave me a big hug. "You look wonderful, dear."
I rubbed my arm that was still very sore from when Nabal had twisted it behind my back the previous night. "Hi, Mom," I said.
She sat back down. "Doesn't she look wonderful, Lee?"
Dad didn't say anything, he just kind of smiled.
"We were so worried about you, Verity, when we didn't hear from you all these months, and then it turned out you weren't at the dorm. So we got your forwarding address and came straight out here. I didn't know what to think. Why, anything might have happened to you. I told Lee we should never have left you on your own. But he said he was sure you were all right. And then, after Mrs. Cabeza de Vaca explained everything to us, well, I see it's all turned out for the best."
"It has?" I looked at Anadora in bewilderment.
"Have some tea," she said, motioning toward the pot. Oh, no, I thought, now she'll read everyone's fortune. But she only said: "I gave your parents a tour of the house last night, when you and Nabal were ... away."
I sneaked a peak at Nabal's face. He was concentrating on his plate. I couldn't read anything in his features.
"Oh, it's a lovely place," Mom said. "And so tastefully decorated. Those golden calves are just precious. Aren't they, Lee?" But since Dad didn't say anything, she turned to Nabal: "Did you have a hand in the decorating?"
He looked up at her from his plate. "Those are ancestral relics."
Mom smiled. "Yes, of course. Beautiful. Just beautiful. It was so lucky for Verity to have found you."
Nabal met my eyes for a split second, but I looked away fast. "Why do you say that, Mom?"
"Well, what with that nasty Sheriff giving you a bad time and having to pay those probation fees and all."
I looked at Anadora. What could she have told her? "Mom, I was working at the Brown 'N Serve..."
Dad said: "Yes. Mrs. Cabeza de Vaca told us. I knew you could take of yourself."
Yeah. Right.
Mom said: "But then you met ... Nabal." She groped for the name, as if she weren't sure just how to pronounce it, "and here you are living together. Isn't that nice."
I squinted at her. "Nice?"
"My little girl, all grown up. I'm so proud of you, Verity."
Dad was squirming. I looked at Nabal. He seemed amused, but I wasn't sure.
Pilar silently served me my breakfast. "Are you back from the Soviet Union for good?" I asked Dad.
He nodded. "We'll be spending a few months in DC."
Nabal looked at him. "CIA?" he asked, his voice deadpan, but somehow I could sense disapproval.
"State Department," Dad corrected. He was trying to keep it light, but Nabal raised an eyebrow and turned back toward his plate.
Mom was still trying to connect with him. "You know, Nabal," she said leaning forward. "I can't tell you how relieved I am to see that you've been looking after Verity."
I sucked in my breath.
He looked at her. "The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Lackland. Your daughter has been very obliging. I've enjoyed having her."
Mom kind of blinked, as though his English were too much for her. Dad's chair creaked as he pulled it back. "If you'll excuse me, I think I'll drive into town to check on Verity's status here." He got up.
"My status?"
"I thought I would speak to the judge."
"Um, Dad, he's probably not going to be in until noon. He had a long night."
Dad looked confused and Nabal narrowed his eyes. I wondered whether he still thought that David and I ...
"A long night?" Mom prodded.
I tried to smile. "Well, we all did." Nabal's look was searing. "There was a bash at the Brown 'N Serve. His re-election campaign."
"Oh." Dad shrugged. "Well, then I'll take a tour of the town. Give you and Madge a chance to catch up." He walked out.
"A shame," Anadora said. "I was going to read his palm."
*********
After breakfast I took Mom to my room.
She was confused. "Well, this isn't a very big bed."
"He doesn't sleep here, Mom."
She frowned. "I don't understand."
"He's got a bedroom of his own."
"Oh." She nodded. "How very European." She sat down on the bed and motioned for me to sit beside her. "I don't approve, of course. That's too tidy an arrangement. It's so cold. But you can change his mind about it, eventually."
I stared at her. She smiled at me. "Did you want to say something, Verity?"
"No... --Yeah" I shook my head. "I'm confused."
Mom smiled. "Well, there's nothing new about that."
I got up and started pacing. "Look, Mom. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, I mean it's great that you're taking this so well. I was really afraid that you would make some kind of terrible scene, accuse Nabal of ... of ... whatever. Demand that I go home with you right away. Bemoan my lost virtue. You know, that sort of thing."
Mom laughed. "Are you disappointed about that, Verity?"
I shrugged, thinking about it. "I ... guess I am. Sort of." I was getting kind of angry even though it didn't make much sense. "Don't you care what happens to me?" It came out louder than I intended.
Mom gestured, indicating the bed. "Sit down, Verity. You're making me dizzy." I complied. "And stop fidgetting. Don't play with you hair." She waited till I looked at her. "Of course I care what happens to you. When you decided to stay behind, I was worried sick. I almost wanted to let Lee go on without me, so that I could look after you. But your father and I discussed it. And he convinced me that I had to let go. That you would never be able to lead a normal life if I kept after you like that. And he was right. Look at you."
I looked around the room, at the whitewashed walls and the fortress windows. "This is very normal, all right."
She ignored the remark. "When it turned out you weren't at the dorm and no one seemed to know exactly what had become of you, I went into a panic. I thought anything might have happened to you. It's such a crazy world out there now, not like when I was growing up. I thought you might have been murdered or raped or ... anything. I can assure you, I was ready to call out the FBI. I blamed your father. I said we never should have left our little girl alone ... But here you are. You're all right. You're alive. You're healthy. And you even have a relationship. What more could I want?"
I stared at her. "Mom, there are more important things than being alive."
She blinked. "What are you talking about, Verity?"
"There's honor and ... and ... freedom ... and justice."
She blinked some more. "You know, I wish you stop using words that don't mean anything. I'm talking to you about your life, and you come out with a fourth of July speech. What has that got to do with anything."
"You never were very patriotic," I said. "But I always thought you had some standards. Not my standards, of course. But I thought you had a kind of conventional morality of your own. You wanted me to make something of myself. And you had all those hang ups about sex."
"Hang ups about ..." she repeated. "Verity, where in the world did you get that idea?"
"You said it was filthy."
"I never said anything of the sort." She got very animated and started flapping her arms around. "When did I say that it was filthy? You know, all your life you have been misquoting me. I really resent that. Remember when you were five years old and you told Mr. Phillips that I said he was a drunk! I almost died of embarrassment. Now, when did I ever say that!"
"Mom you did say that. I heard you."
"All I said was that he habitually overdrinks and gets a little tipsy. I never said he was a drunk. Of course, I didn't mean for you to repeat it. I didn't even know that you were listening. But you had such big ears. And you were so impressionable." She sighed. "Anyway, where you get off saying that I have hang ups about ..." She cut herself short.
"Mom, don't you remember, whenever I even mentioned it, you said that you wouldn't have that kind of filthy talk at the dinner table."
She shook her head. "I said talking about it was filthy, Verity, not doing it." She said it very confidently, but after it was out she seemed a little taken aback by her own boldness.
"Oh." I thought about that. "Why is that, Mom?"
She straightened her shoulders imperiously. "There is a time and a place for everything. Anyway, I don't see what this has to do with anything, just now. You're all right. You have your health. And you're involved with a very nice person."
"Nice? How can you say that he's nice?"
She shrugged. "Well, he's very well mannered and he treated us with a great deal of respect and courtesy."
"Respect! Contempt is more like it."
Mom shook her head. "You are never willing to accept anything, are you? You have to turn it all around. I'm surprised he puts up with you. No wonder you never had any friends. Can't you just be happy?"
We were silent for a few moments. I thought about what she said. And then I kind of laughed. "You know, Mom, this is really weird, but I've never been happier."
She squinted at me. "Then what's the problem."
"You! You're embarrassing me. You're so complacent. And so pushy. And you don't understand anything."
"What don't I understand, Verity?"
"I have been ... arrested, convicted, stripped of my civil liberties and I'm now being kept by a ... a ... a man" -- I couldn't think of another word to describe him just then, in the heat of the moment -- "and you sit there and say how happy you are that I'm okay and congratulate me on doing so well. Mom, do you realize what you're saying!"
She was very calm. "Verity, why must you always overdramatize everything?" Her voice was full of common sense. "For heaven's sake, if you don't want to stay here, Lee will take care of that silly court thing. You can go home with us."
"I do want to stay here. I don't want to go home." I stopped for a moment to think about that. It sounded so strange to hear myself say that. "I won't leave him." The last part was so quiet, it almost faded away at the end.
"Well, good. Then what's the problem?"
"Mom, how could you! How could you just sit there and smile at him when he said he enjoyed screwing your daughter."
She gave me an uncomprehending look. "Verity, how can you talk like that. You know I won't tolerate this kind of language. And he said nothing of the sort."
"Yes, he did, Mom. Right there at breakfast. This morning."
She laughed. "I'm not deaf, Verity. He didn't say anything like that. He was very polite."
"Yes, he did, Mom. He said it was a pleasure having your daughter."
She shook her head. "Now don't be silly. He didn't mean it that way." She laughed. "You are so sensitive. This is just like that time in Baltimore when you came home from nursery school, crying, claiming that Miss Crispin had said you weren't a good girl. Do you remember that?"
"Well, that was more or less what she said."
"Verity, she said nothing of the sort. She wasn't even talking about you. All she said was that the good boys and girls in the class had brought in lots of canned goods for the needy."
"Yeah, Mom. And I hadn't brought any. I understood the implication. All the good boys and girl in the class had donated canned goods. I was a member of the class. I didn't donate anything. Therefore, I wasn't good. It's perfectly logical. I reasoned it out."
"Verity, you were in nursery school. Nobody expected you to reason."
We were silent for a long time. I mean, how can you top that.
She got up and looked out the window. "That's a very nice garden out there. In fact, this is a beautiful house. And they seem very cultured." She turned back to me. "Look, Verity, this isn't exactly what I planned for you. I wanted you to finish college. And of course there is still plenty of time for marriage. You know we have never pushed you. I would have liked it if you had played the field, seen different people before deciding to live with someone. But before we left, you had never dated anyone in your life. You had no friends. No social life. No prospects. You hadn't even chosen a major after over three years in college. Yes, I was a little upset when I first learned about this. But your father and I talked it over last night, and we decided that we wouldn't try to interfere. That this is probably all for the best." She coughed. "Of course, he is quite a bit older than you and ... culturally different, but maybe that's just what you need. Somebody ... responsible, who can look after you. And he does seem very nice."
"Will you stop saying that? You make everything sound so cheap and ordinary.
He's not nice."
She came away from the window and sat down beside me and smiled benevolently. "What's the matter, dear, did you have a quarrel? His mother hinted that you might have."
I tried to answer truthfully. "No. I wouldn't call it a quarrel."
"Verity, nobody's perfect. Even your Dad and I have our little misunderstandings."
I shook my head. "No. We understand each other. I understand him. It's just that he isn't nice. He's never been nice. I know what nice is. David is nice. That's the judge that Dad's gone to see. David is nice. But Nabal is good. Do you understand?"
She shook her head.
I tried to elaborate. "Not good as in do-gooder. Good as in good and evil."
She laughed. "Why do you always use words like that? Freedom, justice, evil. They're so empty. They don't mean anything."
"Yes, they do, Mom. They mean something. They do."
*********
Dad came back from court before noon. Mom was taking a stroll in the atrium, so we sat for a while in my room. "The Judge was very nice," he said.
I smiled, nodding. "Yes, he's nice."
"He said there will be no problem, releasing you from your probation. Just a formality."
"Oh." He never said that to me. Waited for my father to approach him.
"You don't seem very pleased about it."
I thought about that. "It's too late now," I said. "I mean, sure, I'd like to be released, but it's really too late to do any good."
"Are you all right, Verity?"
I looked at him and laughed. "Yeah. I'm all right. Never been better. Which is so weird."
"Do you want to go home with us?"
I shook my head. "No. I want to stay here... If I can." I was thinking about Nabal and our agreement. Would he still want me if he knew I had a choice?
"We can stay until all the paperwork is processed," Dad offered. "Just to be sure."
I shook my head. "No, Dad. I'd rather you didn't. Mom is driving me up the wall. And Nabal is pretty moody right now. He's being audited. Could you ... could you just leave ...?"
Dad smiled. "Okay. Sure. First thing in the morning. You know how hard it is to budge your mother."
"Thanks, Dad."
As he was going out the door he said. "They have strange names here. You know at the Courthouse, I met a kid named Bashful."
I shrugged.
*********
Nabal wasn't there for dinner. Mom was very upset, because they were leaving the next day before breakfast and she wanted to say goodbye.
I found him in the library that evening. I was going to look up crede vaccam, but I stopped short when I saw him there. He was reshelving The Boy from Africa. When he turned around to look at me, I thought I saw worse than contempt.
"Mom missed you at dinner. They're leaving tomorrow." My voice sounded too loud and vulgar, like Mom's.
"And you?" I thought for a moment he meant did I miss him. But he elaborated: "Are you going with them?"
I shook my head. "I'm staying." I didn't dare ask if he wanted me to. I wasn't going to give him an opening.
He accepted that and started to walk out. But he stopped short. He said, almost sadly: "You know, Miss Lackland, until yesterday, I didn't think you had a father."
That was strange. "How did you think I was spawned?" Only it sounded pompous coming from me.
He smiled in acknowledgment. "I thought he must be dead. I never imagined your father would allow his child to be sold into slavery."
He thought I was an orphan. Did it please him to think he was mistreating a waif?
He must have seen that I was angry. "I would never allow this to happen to a child of mine." He said it softly. Then he walked out.
__________