Call Me Jane Read online

  Jack had other punishments as well… Depending on Billi’s reports of my behavior during the day, he’d sometimes send me to bed without supper and lock me in my room. There were times when my body refused to obey the laws of the house and I’d bang on my door begging to be allowed to use the bathroom. If Jack was feeling merciful, he’d let me out to run to the toilet, but when he wasn’t… well, I think you know the rest…

  Either way, it was cause for more punishments, either from Jack or Billi…

  For the most part, Benjamin was my only friend… He was sympathetic to my plight, but could not help me since most ghosts can’t manipulate physical objects. Benjamin was anchored to Billi and he often tried to convince me that she wasn’t evil, but those words tended to fall on deaf ears and eyes full of tears.

  I learned early on to never to talk to Benjamin during the day. That lesson was a matter of survival. I only spoke to him after dinner, after I had been locked in for the night, and then only in quiet whispers. Anything louder might have been overheard, which would have been cause for more torture.

  If there is a god, and I ever meet them, they’ll have to beg me for forgiveness… Maybe I’ll show them the same mercy they’ve shown me!

  Chapter 4

  A Day in the Life

  So, my editor tells me I’m making the mistake of telling, when I should be showing. I’m doing too much explaining and not enough narrating. He says I should treat this like a story, rather than a telling of facts…

  Fine. I’ll give it a try. So, here’s my attempt. I call it a day in the life. This is, more or less, what a typical day in my childhood looked like…

  Breathe, Jane… It’ll be okay…

  The room is dark and devoid of comfort. There is a single bulb in the ceiling, but the switch that controls it is on the other side of the locked door. The floor is made of wooden boards and the walls are bare drywall, without so much as a window to tell me whether it’s morning. The only bit of ‘furniture’ if you can call it that, is a bare mattress laying on the floor. I am sitting at one end of the mattress with my knobby knees pressed against my chest. I’m rocking back and forth slightly, my eyes glued to the underside of the door, waiting for the first hint that Jack and Billi have woken up for the day.

  I’m waiting because I need to pee…

  The door is locked from the other side and there’s no way for me to unlock it from this side. If I start banging on the door too soon, they’ll punish me for waking them up; that’s a good twenty lashes, at least. I’m getting desperate, but I’m not that desperate, yet. Twenty lashes means I faint and when I wake up, I’ll get more lashes for fainting as they accuse me of faking it. I am, maybe, twelve years old and I don’t yet know about what blood loss can do to you or the fact that I have weird blood. Those bits of knowledge would come later…

  The age is an estimate as Jack and Billi were not big on celebrating birthdays, or at least not mine. My best guess is that I was twelve at the time.

  As it is, it takes most of my concentration and a willpower that grows stronger by the day to keep from soiling myself. Making that kind of mess would mean more lashes and probable spankings from Jack. It would also be humiliating, but by this time I have a fairly high threshold for humiliation.

  “They’ll be awake soon,” comes the voice of Benjamin from across the room.

  Benjamin is a ghost. He’s also Billi’s twin brother. I have a love/hate relationship with him. I hate him because talking to him gets me in all kinds of trouble, but I love him because I have no one else to talk to. I can’t see him that well, except as a slightly less dark patch near the door. From his voice, it sounds like he’s chosen to take a form that’s close to my age, I think. He tends to play around with his age, but I don’t think he’s ever taken the age he was when he died, at least not yet.

  “I hope so,” I whisper, barely audible, even to my own ears.

  “They will,” he promises, speaking at a normal volume. Benjamin doesn’t have to whisper, since I’m the only one that can hear him. I’m not so fortunate. If Billi catches me speaking to someone that isn’t there, much less to her dead brother, she’ll lose her damn mind. She might even try to perform another exorcism, binding me in rope while she chants passages from the bible while whipping my back with her bamboo switch. Or maybe she’ll try to baptize me again and ‘accidentally’ almost drown me.

  Part of me considers pushing Jack and Billi to the point where they actually do kill me, since they’ve ensured I have no way of doing it myself. If heaven is all it’s cracked up to be, then it’s gotta be better than here, right? I’m not so brainwashed to believe that I’m as full of sin as Billi believes. If they kill me, I’m bound to get into heaven, right?

  “She’s awake!” Benjamin exclaims with a smile. He gets up and walks through the door to spy on his sister. That Benjamin can walk through the door any time he likes makes me jealous beyond words. I’d give anything to be able to do that. Bloody hell, I’d kill to be able to do that! I’d damn my soul to the fiery pits of hell to be able to escape this place…

  Calm down, Jane… If you get upset, you’ll get sloppy; if you get sloppy, you’ll get punished.

  I start counting down from three hundred. That’s about how long it takes for them to remember that I exist and that I might need to be let out or else they’ll have a mess to clean up. When I get down to a hundred, I clamp my eyes shut in preparation for them turning on my light, so I’m not immediately blinded. I get down to twenty-three when the bulb sparks to life painfully. I slowly open my eyes, trying to acclimate them to the new intensity.

  “Get up you lazy girl,” Billi sneers at me, hauling me up by my arm before my eyes are fully open. I try to make my legs work as I all but run to the bathroom, but Billi is too impatient and she winds up dragging me faster than my stiff legs can take me. She shoves me into the bathroom and I sit on the toilet as she watches. I don’t know why she watches… It’s humiliating and I wish she wouldn’t do it. From her look of disgust, she doesn’t seem to enjoy it, and yet she still does it.

  Maybe she sees herself as a warden to a devious prisoner that’s liable to do something sneaky at any moment and slit her throat…

  I confess that I’ve fantasized about that more than is probably healthy for me… One of the things stopping me is the thought that killing her might create a ghost that’s anchored to me. Then I’d never be rid of her!

  Another part is my distinct lack of access to anything even remotely sharp…

  Oh! And murder is wrong… unless God does it… then it’s okay!

  I finish, quickly pull up my underwear and shorts, and flush. I go to the sink and thoroughly wash my hands, using soap and hot water. I need them to pass inspection when I’m done, so I’m careful about it. When I’m satisfied that I have done as thorough a job as I can, I dry them off on the towel next to the sink.

  “Show me,” Billi demands before I can finish drying them off. I hasten to get the last few bits of moisture off my hands before presenting them to her, palm side down.

  Billi grabs my hands viciously, pulling them closer to her face as she inspects each fingernail. Seemingly satisfied with the tops of my hands, she turns them over to inspect the palms. She gives a disappointed grunt as she throws my hands down and walks out of the bathroom to the kitchen. I quickly follow after her like a trained puppy, fearful that I’ll get a lashing if I’m too slow.

  She motions to the kitchen table with her chin. I obediently sit at my assigned chair, readying the lies I am about to tell, to help me get through another day with a minimum of lashings.

  “Confess,” she demands. This is part of the morning ritual and if I don’t get it precisely right, or it’s not believable, I’ll get a lashing for lying. Billi believes I am inherently evil and that I willfully murdered my mother in childbirth. She also believes I am possessed by a demon that has eaten my soul.

  “Bless me for I have sinned,” I say quickly, staring at the tabletop and studiou
sly avoiding making eye contact with Billi. Making eye contact with her during confession is grounds for a lashing, don’t ask me why, she’s never said. Billi stands at the counter, blocking the window over the sink. She scowls at me with her arms crossed, ready to pounce on me with the bamboo switch sitting on the counter next to her, within easy reach.

  “I have had impure thoughts,” I continue, delivering the half-truth I have prepared. “I have thought of evil deeds involving the torture of small animals.”

  I’ve gotten good at lying as a matter of survival. I’ve also gotten good at reading Billi’s reactions to my lies, the better to tailor them to something more believable. I need to appease Billi’s belief in my being evil, but only just enough to minimize the amount of ‘repentance’ I would have to endure.

  “What kinds of torture? What kinds of animals?” she asks, sounding like she’s doing calculations in her head.

  “Rats,” I answer quickly, hoping that naming an animal considered vermin will lighten the punishment. “I had thoughts of torturing rats; of cutting off their tails and pulling out their whiskers,” I add, putting enough joy that Billi believes it while also putting in enough remorse that she might take off a lash from her initial tally.

  “Two lashes and five hail Marys,” Billi announces.

  Maybe today will be a good day after all… Two lashes are less than I was expecting.

  I nod acknowledgement before getting up and sitting on my knees in front of her. I take off my shirt, baring my scarred back to the woman. I can hear her pick up the switch and I hold my shirt closer to me, readying myself for what is coming. I flinch at the whistle the switch makes as it moves through the air, even before the sting of it as it cuts into my back.

  “Thank you, may I have another?” I ask, knowing that if I don’t, she’ll give me another lash for not being grateful for what she’s doing for me.

  Billi quickly obeys, the sting coming from lower on my back.

  “Thank you, may I have another?” I ask, hoping she’ll be merciful and won’t actually swing it again. The whistle tells me I won’t be so lucky today. Maybe she was annoyed that she couldn’t find anything wrong with my hands? Whatever the reason, I repeat the ritualistic mantra after the third strike to my back. It is only after she has given me one more lash than she had promised that she stops.

  “Get up,” she commands. I stand as quickly as I can, lest she think I’m disobeying her. That’s grounds for more lashes. I pull on my shirt and stand before her with my head bowed, trying to make myself appear smaller to her.

  “Sit down,” she orders before turning to a cupboard to prepare my breakfast.

  I pull the chair out and stare at the table, not daring to make eye contact with her as she busies herself with preparing the meal. My stomach growls in anticipation and I hold my breath, hoping Billi didn’t hear it. She’s liable to think that’s the demon growling at her!

  “Looks like it’s oatmeal this morning,” Benjamin informs me. I school my face and body to keep from reacting to him. Reacting to him is grounds for punishment. Benjamin doesn’t seem to be offended as I studiously ignore him. “Ooh! Looks like she’s pulling out some milk!” Benjamin continues, narrating Billi’s actions.

  My mouth waters with the thought of milk. Milk is a special treat and is only given when Billi thinks I’ve been an especially good girl! Maybe today will be a good day!

  “Eat,” Billi demands as she sets a bowl in front of me a moment before setting a glass of milk next to it.

  Rather than digging into the bland meal in front of me, I clasp my hands together in front of my face and recite the prayer I’ve had memorized for nearly as long as I can remember. “Bless us, oh lord, for this bounty you have seen fit to give us, your humble servants, on this blessed morning. May we be fortunate enough to continue receiving your great blessings. In the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit. Amen.”

  Billi gives a slight sound of approval and I know that I have managed to avoid her trap this morning. Had I not intoned this grace, she would have taken the food from me and made me watch her as she ate it. Now that I have her approval, I eagerly dig in, desperate for the sustenance. I quickly drain the milk, the most flavorful part of this meal, and relish the creaminess of it. The coolness I feel as I swallow is a relief to my parched throat. All too soon, the oatmeal and the milk are gone and I know it will be hours before I get anything more.

  Billi takes the bowl and glass with a slight huff before rinsing them out in the sink. I do my best to shrink in the chair. If I offer to clean them for her, she’ll accuse me of disrespecting her as I try to take her job from her or of trying to steal from them.

  When she’s done, she leaves the room to get the bibles for our morning studies. Bible study is my sole source of schooling and I’d wager that I have a better grasp of the damned book than any priest you’d care to name. I’ve devoted myself to memorizing it, passage for passage and verse for verse. I haven’t done this because I like the book or even agree with it! No, I did all this because I needed to, in order to survive.

  Survival is my only concern. Anything beyond survival is not worth thinking about… No, worse… anything beyond survival is dangerous as it takes resources away from me that I need to survive.

  Billi lectures me on various verses of the bible and she quizzes me often to ensure I’m paying attention. I’m not, at least not really. Part of me is paying attention, sure, but most of me is devoted to using my… other gift…

  The bible I hold in my hands belongs to Billi. It’s the one she normally uses for her own reference, but today she has inadvertently given me her copy, while she uses my copy. I doubt Billi has noticed. I think she gave me the one in worse shape because she believes I’m not worthy of the one that looks newer. I’m fine with this copy. In fact, I’m better than okay with it, because this one offers my mind a doorway into Billi’s thoughts.

  I’m not sure when I first noticed that my mind had one more trick beyond seeing ghosts, but I was careful to keep it a strict secret. If Billi and Jack thought talking to ghosts was bad, I can’t imagine what they’d think if they knew I was getting inside their heads! I can only do this with objects the other cares about and some objects work better than others. I think the more emotional significance an object holds, the better the connection; the better the connection, the less I have to push to get inside their heads.

  The copy of the bible I hold in my hands offers a great connection. Pushing into Billi’s mind is almost effortless. I manage to keep my eyes open as Billi drones on, but I’m really looking through her eyes and hearing her thoughts.

  Damned, evil, girl. She’s the reason Jack refuses to have a child with me. The man, bless his heart, believes that I’d end up like her damned mother should I get pregnant with his seed. If only she was gone, then we wouldn’t be celibate these past eleven years of our marriage! It’d be better for all of us if the good lord would just take her so she can burn in hell for all eternity for killing her mother and dooming our marriage.

  It is one thing to suspect that the woman raising you wishes you were dead, but it is another matter, entirely, to know she wishes you were dead. It is only my ironclad self-control that keeps me from crying out at the pain of this revelation.

  What can I do about this revelation? Nothing. Not a damned thing… If I told Jack about this, he’d accuse me of lying and ‘besmirching a good woman’s name’ and he’d beat me bad. If I told Billi, she’d accuse me of devilry and whip me until I passed out, and then probably whip me some more!

  I could tell Benjamin, if only to vent, but not until later tonight, after Jack and Billi were sound asleep. Even then, I could only do that if Benjamin actually showed up. He doesn’t always visit me in my room, but it’s often enough to make me think he gets something out of it. He tells me that he feels more real when he’s near me and I can see him. I don’t know what he means, but I’m still grateful for the company.

  The lesson goes on for hours
. I slip in and out of Billi’s mind enough to know the answers that will satisfy her and keep me from getting punished. Score one for my gift!

  “Good,” Billi says, closing her book. This is a rare word from Billi’s mouth. I must have done something unbelievably right for her to utter this kind of praise!

  “Go use the bathroom and then we’ll have lunch,” Billi announces, getting up to follow me down the hall to the bathroom. Once again, she watches me as I use the toilet, flush, and wash my hands. Once again, she inspects my hands, but this time, she finds a slight smudge on one of my fingers from holding the bible. I don’t see the smudge, but I know not to question her, so I dutifully pull off my shirt and we do the lashing ritual for four lashes, including three for damaging the ‘good book.’ On one of the lashes, I can feel a small trickle of blood as it makes its way down my back. I pray to anyone listening that it’s not much blood and that it dries before it drips onto the floor. If it drips onto the floor, I’ll get more lashings and have to clean it up. Thankfully, the blood stops before it reaches my shorts.

  Billi has been appeased and it is time for lunch! My stomach rumbles at the thought of more food, even though I know the meal will be small and lacking.

  Billi’s idea of lunch consisted of quartered carrot sticks and stalks of celery. Billi, being the adult, got the larger share, while I got significantly less. The drink for this meal was a glass of water. This meal never varied… ever.

  I crunch through lunch hungrily, my body greedy for any bit of nourishment I can send its way.

  With lunch gone, we begin afternoon prayers and another round of confessions. For a woman that has literally been by my side since the first round of confessions, she sure seems to think I must have snuck off to do some wicked deeds behind her back! I tell her more lies, sticking to the whole evil thoughts and temptations that I swear I have not indulged in. I must be convincing because she doesn’t call me out on it. I get five more lashes for my sins…