Outcast by Susan Oloier Page A

treasures displayed on the shelves and end tables. So-called Peruvian statues basked in track lighting that rained from the ceiling; clay vases, never intended to hold water or flowers, dotted the empty spaces on the bookshelves. Doug definitely wasn’t much of a reader. There was only one novel masquerading on his bookcase. It was an untouched, hardbound edition of Call of the Wild . Strange since I always considered that a young boy’s book.
    I meandered around, venturing into the hallway where Aunt P and dull Doug had disappeared. I heard voices emerging from the cavernous sections of the house.
    A chorus of moans was accompanied by the squeaking of bedsprings. Either the paperwork they were viewing was completely engaging or my aunt and her college buddy were having sex. I felt utterly repulsed. How could they do that while I was in the next room? Gross!
    I hurried back to the couch. Is this what she intended to teach me? Did she plan to turn me into a woman by introducing me to the lurid sex games she played? And what would my mother think? My mother! She said she wanted me to call every day, and I knew she meant it. I searched for the phone, finding it on the end table next to the love seat. She answered it immediately, obviously awaiting the ring of the phone.
    “Mom, it’s me.”
    “Everything okay? You sound upset. Are you in some kind of trouble?”
    I hated that my mother was able to decipher the nuances of my voice over 2000 miles away. I didn’t need her knowing that Aunt P was the screw up she believed her to be. I quelled the panic in my voice.
    “Everything’s fine. We went to a really fancy place for dinner and…”
    “And what?” She hung on my every word.
    I gritted my teeth at the lie I was about to tell. “And now we’re back at the hotel.”
    “You’re up awfully late. It has to be eleven o’clock there.”
    “We’re getting ready for bed.” I looked toward the hallway wondering when the two lovers would emerge. “We stayed up and … played cards.”
    “Let me talk to your aunt.”
    Think fast! “Can’t. She’s taking a late-night soak in the tub, and I don’t want to disturb her.”
    “Um hmm,” my mother moaned skeptically.
    “I’ll have her call you.”
    “You do that.” There was a moment of silence between us. I desperately wanted to hear her say she loved me, or at least that she missed me. “Behave yourself.”
    “I will.” I hung up. It was Aunt P who wasn’t behaving.
    P finally returned to the living room. Her hair disheveled, her pressed dress was imprinted with wrinkles. Doug shadowed her, a trail of misbehavior following him.
    “Paperwork looks good.” P poorly played out the final act of her part. “You ready to go, Noelle?”
    “I’ve been ready.”
    “Anything good on the telly?”
    The telly? What, was he English all of a sudden?
    “Not really.”
    I made my way to the door, and Aunt P followed.
    They said their goodbyes. “Talk to you soon.”
    I hoped not.
     
    “What was that all about?” I questioned her in the taxi as the city and all its lights whipped by the window.
    “What was what all about?” Aunt P reapplied the lipstick that was sampled from her lips.
    “Claire? Doctor Doug? I don’t get it.”
    “There’s nothing for you to get. You’re fourteen years old.”
    “That’s right,” I came back at her. “I’m fourteen. You shouldn’t be exposing me to certain things .”
    “What certain things are you referring to?”
    Instead of responding, I caught her off guard. “My mother wants you to call her.”
    It worked. “You talked to your mother? When?”
    “Tonight. At Doug’s house.”
    She lunged at me. “You didn’t tell her anything. Did you?”
    “You mean about you and Doug and the paperwork ?”
    “Don’t get smart-ass with me, Noelle.” Her voice was threatening.
    “I told her we were at the hotel and you were taking a bath.”
    Aunt P relaxed and eased back into her seat. “Thank God.” She revealed