The Birth of Bane (3 page)

I remember
listening to my mother and her real estate agent/friend, a guy
named, Jesse Walkins, as they spoke of the property. We were on the
way over from our small abode off Figueroa Street. I’d been sitting
in the back seat of his Cadillac, my younger sister at my side, and
my little brother beyond her, next to the other window. He and my
mother were in the front seat. He had been telling her he thought
the plot might be too much. It was big and needed “a lot of tender
love and care”, which was realtor-speak for “fixer-upper”. He’d
told her he typically wouldn’t have shown her something of this
magnitude, because an estate of this size was typically out of the
price-range her and my father had designated.

I recall his
finger as it wagged. “But there is something typical about this
place,” he’d said, eyebrows arching, a wide, plastic, Ken-doll grin
on his face. “Pillar,” he went on, calling my mother by her first
name, “with a little elbow-grease, you and Leonard could turn it
around and resell the place, and make a fortune.”

My mother had
looked skeptical, but all of that changed the moment she’d seen the
house. “Oh my!” she breathed as she stepped from Jesse’s car, her
head craned as she gazed upward through the throng of
plantlife.

“
Like I
mentioned, it has five bedrooms and three bathrooms. One of which
only has a toilet, sink and shower, so it’s technically considered
half of one, but hey, who’s being technical, right?” He guffawed as
if he was as funny as Johnny Carson.

He
wasn’t.

My mother’s gaze
remained riveted upon the dark green house atop the
hill.

Undeterred, her
friend forged on. “There is also a working toolshed, a back house –
currently being rented, so you’ll have some assistance with the
mortgage – and there are a number of other out-buildings as well,
mostly used for storage or whatever.” His smile was glued in place.
“There is a finished basement, a full-sized attic and multi-leveled
deck on the north side of the house with an eight-man hot tub. So,
you can see what I mean when I say the place is huge. I think the
square footage of the main house is nearly three thousand feet. You
and the kids… and Leonard… will have plenty of room to stretch your
legs.”

“
How much did
you say it was going for again?” asked my mom, still unable to look
away.

“
That’s the real
kicker, kid,” he replied as cheesy as Mr. Rodgers.

I frowned and
shared a dubious looked with my sister, Valerie, who rolled her
eyes in disgust. I could tell she didn’t like Jessie all that much,
probably because he was a little friendlier with my mother than she
thought was proper. She hadn’t known back then they’d dated back in
high school. Their level of intimacy simply grossed her
out.

For me, it was
weird seeing another man close with my mom, but it was no more than
that. My father had always been so mean to my mother. It was also
nice to see someone treat her the way she should be treated, every
day, and not like some dust broom to be discarded upon a whim,
treated with disdain.

Back then, at
fifteen, Valerie wore her fine, brown hair straight, parted down
the middle with bangs. She was light complected with eyes matching
her hair, her face narrow, pointed at the chin. She’d always been a
skinny child. She was often told, by the older men of our family,
she was “smuggling walnuts” instead of sporting kneecaps like the
rest of us. It was because her legs were so thin, her knee-joints
kind of stuck out.

On that day, she
wore a knee-high, baby-doll dress, corduroy, azure in color,
matching barrettes keeping her bangs fr
om her face. They’d grown long, because my mother hadn’t
trimmed them in a while. She had on over-the-calf, white stocks and
blue and white oxfords on her feet. She looked cute, but then
Valerie had always been a pretty girl. She was a tinier, younger
version of my mom.

Elijah, only six
years old, had come from the car and sought out my mom’s hand
immediately. He was more solidly built than both me and my sister.
He had a thick mane of coarse hair, dark, cut in a bowl-like
fashion. His features were equally dark – his eyes deep brown to
the point of shining black, his skin a deep russet as if he tanned
in the sun frequently, though he hadn’t. He’d worn a tie-dyed
t-shirt, jeans and a scuffed-up pair of Keds.

I was the
proto-typical male of our family. It wasn’t tall nor was I short. I
was thin-framed like Valerie, only I was the masculine version. I
had broad shoulders for my age with ungainly hands and feet that I
prayed I’d grow into as I matured. My hair was shorn in a very
military-looking flat top manner, cut tight against my scalp on all
sides, except the top. I had chocolate-colored irises and a narrow
face only not as severe as my sister’s.

I had come
dressed a bit more formally, because I had a date with a new girl
from school. I had been anxious earlier, gearing myself up for an
afternoon date, but, instead, I’d got suckered into going along
with my mother to look at this “
awesome new property Jessie was dying to show us.”

Blah, blah,
blah.

Thus, I was
wearing my best 501 jeans, a button-up shirt and my latest pair of
navy-colored, slip-on Vans.

“
Eighty-nine
thousand, Pilly, that’s what they’re asking.” He sounded proud of
himself.

My mother
grunted in her feminine manner. “Seems too good to be true, Jess.
What’s the catch?”

“
Catch? Other
than it’s rundown, hasn’t been lived-in in over three years and
it’s in dire need of every sort of household upgrade imaginable…
well, there is no catch.” He clasped his hands behind his back and
rocked back and forth upon his heels. “I’m being up front with you.
It’s going to need a lot of work, but with Leonard’s salary and
your availability, I really think between the two of you – and with
the help of your strong children – you could get this place up to
snuff in no time.”

All three of us
grimaced at his reference to us working on the house.
What a crock! This guy was a
douche-and-a-half
, I thought,
stepping away from the rest of them, trying to get a better view of
the house from the street. I was amazed to find I couldn’t. The
trees literally blocked every angle. I couldn’t make out the house
clearly from any vantage.

“
Think of it as
an investment. I bet in ten years you could get a quarter of a
million for this place with the proper upgrades, landscaping, etc.,
etc.”

My mother
harrumphed, but stayed otherwise quiet.

His Hollywood
smile faltered. “Why don’t we take a look at the rest of it. What
do you think?”

“
Sure,” my mom
had mumbled.

I felt my face
fall.
How long was this going to
take?
I had a hot date. I wanted
to get the hell out of there and make my way to my new girlfriend’s
house. Her name was Myra. She was a sexy little number, who was
definitely hot to trot! We had only been dating for a few days and
I hadn’t really had the chance to make-out with her yet. An issue I
wanted to remedy that day. I didn’t want to waste the daylight
hours walking around some old house, even if was big. I wanted to
have Myra in my arms.

Chagrined, I
followed everyone else up the stairs and walked onto the grounds
proper.

To this day, I
will never forget my first impression of the front yard. It
reminded me of something straight out of
Lord of the Rings
. It
could’ve been the
Plains of
Rohan
, it was so overgrown and
wild looking. Where the lawn should’ve been grew a two-foot high
morass of untended grass and weeds, probably more weeds than grass.
Above that sprouted great tangles of Birds-of-Paradise, looking as
though they hadn’t been cut back in more than a decade. And that
was only on my right hand side. To my left, it was even worse.
Great knots of trees and bushes loomed, held fast by an invasive
Ivy plant, growing everywhere. Nowhere was this more in evidence
than upon the towering magnolia. The ivy clung to every square inch
of its’ trunk and nearly every branch, up to the highest reaches of
the massive tree. I had never seen anything like it. It was like
being in the Amazon.

Of course,
covering all else, was the broad-leafed elm. Like the Great Mother
herself, she blanketed all, screened the front yard from prying
eyes beyond.

“
Tell me, Jess, why is the house
really
priced so low? And
be honest,” she said quickly, a stern. “Remember, I’ve always known
when you were lying…” Her brows arched.

Jeez, what had
gone on between these two? Did I really want to know?
Maybe Jessie had been as slick and sly
back in the day as he appeared now.
Had he been a player?

He breathed
loudly, glancing upward into the colossal underbelly of the
elm.

“
Jessie,”
implored my mother, using the same tone she’d use on one of us when
we weren’t acting with our best behavior.

He shifted his
weight to stand on one foot, one hand on his hips, the other
gesturing toward the domicile before us. “Someone died in the
house, ok?”

“
What?!?”
exclaimed my
mom.

“
Oh god, that’s
creepy,” muttered Valerie, peering at the house with haunted
eyes.

I felt my face
wrinkle with distaste, all thoughts of Myra and her luscious body
banished forthwith.

Jessie raised
both hands in supplication. “It wasn’t a murder, or anything
nefarious for that matter.”

“
Jesus, Jess,
does it really matter?”

My mother’s
friend stood erect once again. “Well, yeah. I think it does. She
was a nice old lady. The house had been built for her by her
husband way back in 1909. She lived in it her entire life and when
she got old, she silently passed away in her rocking chair in the
sunroom, overlooking the northern side of the property. It was all
very pleasant and neat. No big fuss.”

“
Mom, I want to
go,” stated Valerie, her face drained of color.

“
Yeah, mommy,
let’s go,” urged Eli, tugging at her hand.

“
If it’s as
‘neat’ as you say, then how come no one’s bought the house in over
three years?” inquired my mother. I could see her ire was on the
rise. Jessie having brought her out to look at a potential home for
them with a checkered past wasn’t sitting well with her. My mother
wasn’t an overly religious or superstitious person, but hey,
everyone has their limits, right?

“
Well,” began
the realtor, “the last owners used it as a rental home and a series
of bad tenants left the house in sorry shape. When they put it up
for sale, there weren’t any takers. All this time, the house has
sat here, for sale, getting all the more dilapidated, while the
asking price continued to plummet.” He stopped, scratching at his
neck in contemplation. “It’s one of those Catch 22 things. It’s
really a beautiful home. It’s just been on a continuous downward
spiral for the few years...” He trailed off, looking away from us.
His eyes darted about the front of the house. “It really has a lot
of potential.” He was speaking more to himself, then to us. “If I’d
have known about it earlier, I would’ve bought myself. I would’ve
made a good chunk of change when I flipped it too.” He
sighed.

He sounded
genuine, but he was a hard read. I knew there was reason he drove a
Cadillac. He was no slouch when it came to selling homes. And, it
appeared he was no novice at playacting either.

My mom bit her
lower lip.

“
Mom,” said
Valerie, trying to get her attention, but my mother was in deep
thought.

I could tell the
place was
“creeping” my sister
out.

“
You said it had
a sunroom?” she asked her one-time, high school squeeze, tilting
her head to the side. She was in a considering mood, it
seemed.

Jessie smiled.
“Yeah, Pilly, I told you, the house is magnificent. It just needs
someone to care for it, to restore it to its’ former glory, so to
speak.”

“
And you’re not
bull-shitting about the old lady, right? I mean, it was a peaceful
death, correct?”

Jessie gave my
mother a mock salute, even went so far as to stand rigid. “Scout’s
Honor.”

Oh jeez,
forget what I said earlier, this guy
was a double-douche.

“
Well, I guess
it wouldn’t hurt to have a look.”

“
Mom, no!”
commanded my
sister, fists clenched at either side. “The house is too scary. I
don’t want to live here.”

“
We’re not moving in just yet, Val. We’re only
‘looking’
at the property,” explained my mom, using her fingers to
make quotation marks at either side of her head.

“
I don’t want to
look,” said Valerie, petulant.

My mother’s lips
pursed. “That’s fine with me, young lady. You can stay out here and
keep this over-grown front yard company.”