She pulled her feet up and sat back on her spine, doubling her knees and hugging them to her. In this position, she rocked back and forth for a moment. She could talk, now, and she began: "It was just awful, Donnie… what I saw… tonight! That's why I–I was so upset…"
Donnie lounged back on the narrow bed, pulling his own knees up, as he lay on his side facing his sister. He looked up at her and said, "Yeah… I know… the waterworks and all that… but what in hell did you see…? You haven't said anything… yet!"
"Well… Mom came home, as usual… but there was this man with her… and they were in the bedroom… and he was…"
"Fucking her?"
"Donnie… please!" she chided, the sound of the word offensive to her. "Yes…" she went on after a moment, "only he… d-didn't do it… like you'd expect… h-he put his thing in her m-mouth…" She turned away, her embarrassment flooding in on her, again.
Donnie was blase, unimpressed, "So? She sucked him off?" he said, spreading his hands and lifting his shoulders. "What's the big deal…?"
"H-He p-paid her for it…!"
He grinned at his sister, knowingly, "So… you finally found out?"
"Y-Yes… I–I guess… S-so…" She still couldn't look at him. "I–Is she-she really… a… A…?" Her sentence remained unfinished.
Her brother finished it for her. "A whore… The plain truth is… yes, she is!"
Charity turned, then, and searched her brother's face. "Wh-What can we d-do Donnie…?" she asked.
"Split!" he spat.
"Leave here?"
"Like I'm gone… as soon as I clutch a little more bread!"
"Take me w-with you… Donnie?" she begged. "It's so mixed up… and all… and I–I've already d-decided t-to r-run away! Please… take me…?"
"You Christ, Sis… how'd you get along? You haven't even tried to be a part of it… you don't know how to talk… or act… or dress… or anything! You're square!"
Her eyes began to mist, again. "Then, y-you won't t-take m-me…?"
"Hell! I didn't say that… but you've got a lot to learn!"
"Then… you c-can teach me!" she brightened, leaning forward and planting a kiss, impulsively, on his cheek.
Don stared at his lovely sister, his mind racing, heart thumping, wildly, while down below, his virile penis throbbed, achingly. He couldn't believe the havoc her innocent kiss played on his emotions. Could he do it? Christ! He wasn't sure! She was his own sister! And, what he felt for her wasn't just love for a sibling.
No! It was much more. She was a beautifully budding young woman, a woman to be loved… loved well, with the hardened rod of his maleness. He wanted her. He had to have her!
With a trembling hand, he reached out to her and gently pulled her down beside him on the bed. His voice was hoarse. "Char… how much… do you want to learn…?" he asked.
She struggled to sit up. "Don! Wh-What a-are you d-doing…? What d-do y-you… Mean…?"
He knew, then, that she was not ready to go the route he was thinking about, but maybe she could be brought around to it. He knew a way to it. His own experience and what he had learned from other kids, as well as what had been written in various popular magazines, told him that the turn-on from pot was the way to reduce inhibitions… intensify desire and add to the pleasure of sex. Should he try it on her? Damn! He ached to find out. She was so God damned beautiful… so innocent and virginal! And, if she really wanted to go on the street with him, she'd have to know all about grass and sex. Anyway, he rationalized, I could lay it on her right! Make he understand it… and like it… Hell! It'd be better if I did it… instead of some heavy dude that might mistreat her!
He allowed her to sit up, then sat up, himself, facing her with a serious face. "Listen," he said, "you know… almost all the street people blow grass… POP pills or drop acid."
"Yes… I–I've heard all about th-that."
"Everybody to their own bag like… but I don't go the pill or acid route… or the hard stuff, you know, H for heroin. People blow their minds that way…! And it's not worth it… so stay away from it! Don't let yourself get strung out!"
Charity struggled to understand his jargon. She got most of it; she heard it a great deal, not only from Donnie but from her classmates; however, she had made no effort to speak in that manner herself.
She cocked her head to one side and surveyed him, gravely. "What you're saying then… is that marijuana… i-is the only one that's s-safe…?"
"Yeah… and a hell of a lot cheaper!"
"Isn't it against the law?"
"Sure… but some day the laws could change… and pot's the only one that's got a chance of being legal…!" he explained.
"Why?"
"Nobody's ever really proved that it's bad for you… or that it leads people to the hard stuff!" he rationalized.
"H-How do y-you know…?" she queried.
"Christ! I've been blowing grass for over a year!"
She was aghast… completely surprised at his admission. She could only gasp, "Donnie!"
"Yeah… Donnie!" he mimicked. "And, it's the most! There's no turn-on like it!"
"I–I didn't know… Y-you…"
"That's what I mean… it doesn't string you out… up or down! When it wears off after a couple of hours… you're right where you were before. No after-effects… no side-effects!"
"You make it s-sound… sort of… well, you know… n-nice…" she murmured.
This was it, he decided. He would lay it on her. She just might be ready, now. His selling job must be working. Casually, he arose from the bed, ignoring the fact of the distinct bulge in his jeans where his throbbing cock demanded release, and walked to his bureau. In a moment, he had one of the joints he had hidden there. Holding it carefully in his hand, he turned to his sister and said, "I'm going to toke up… You can blow some with me… if you want… but I've got to trust you! I don't want you to go spilling your guts about it! It's got to be secret… just between you and me… O.K.?" Her eyes widened in surprise and a fleeting look of fright passed over her face. "Y-You've g-got some of i-it… here?"
Swiftly, he checked the curtains at the window, making sure they were closed, then locked the door. He held up the homemade roach for her to see. "Yeah… right here!"
In wide-eyed fascination, Charity watched as her brother sat down, again, beside her, extracted a book of paper matches from his pocket and lit the marijuana cigarette, drawing the sweet-smelling smoke deeply into his lungs, holding it there for long moments before releasing it then exhaling the bluish-grey smoke with controlled slowness. He smiled at her.
"You ever try smoking, yet?"
She crimsoned. "Yes… I–I didn't l-like it…!"
"This's even easier… than regular tobacco, Sis," He drew a deep breath. "Want to blow a little?"
The rich smoke he had exhaled so close to her gave her a heady feeling. She couldn't help inhaling some of it; it was thick in the small room, already. She nodded her no.
He took another deep puff, going through the same ritual of deep inhalation, holding and slow exhalation, blowing the smoke, purposely, into her face.
"I–It smells funny…" she observed.
"It'll relax you…" he said, languidly. "It makes the whole world beautiful… for a little while. There's no problems… and there's nothing but love… The whole world is love… and everybody loves everybody. What Mom does… isn't important anymore! This's where it's at… the turn-on to love… and beautiful things… for beautiful people!"
Her brother's voice, somehow softer, more musical… almost lyrical, washed over her, mesmerizing her, and she saw that he was being influenced, already, by the narcotic effects of the marijuana. She realized, too, that he was seeing things that were presently barred to her. He was in a world far distant from hers… in a world of love and beauty. True, it was a world of unreality, but the reality of this world, the part of it she had witnessed only a little while before, had been too much for her. That was the reason she was here, in Donnie's bedroom. She had felt so alone that she had come to him. For solace? Yes. For sympathy? Yes… But, Donnie wasn't there with her, now. He had fled… or was he leading her? At any rate, she knew that the real Don was not here; he was experiencing another world, a world from which he was beckoning her, urging her to follow him there to bask in the pure sunshine of that other place. Oh, God? Dare she follow him? The bridge over which she must cross was a flimsy one. It was only smoke, and yet… it was the way. She could see it hanging in layers in the room. No… perhaps it was not a bridge, after all. The smoke from his roach was an elevator. She looked up into the dimness above the light. What was there? She didn't know. Could she reach out to the smoke, grasp it and pull herself, carefully, over to the other side where Donnie waited? If she did not… she would be more alone than ever, and he was all she had, now. She bad to be with Donnie. Oh, God… I've got to find Donnie, again!