Again, as when she received her inheritance, there had been a summons to her father’s home office. The third floor smelled of cigarettes—her mother had returned to her proper bed, but she hadn’t quit smoking—when Becky climbed the stairs to it. Her father’s desk was strewn with bills and legal documents. He kept glancing at them, repositioning them, while he explained his financial predicament and her mother gazed at him supportively. The upshot was that, to pay reparations to the Navajos whose barn Perry had burned, he wanted to “borrow” Becky’s college money.
“It seems to me,” she said, “that Perry should be the one to pay for that.”
“Unfortunately, there’s no money left in Perry’s account.”
“I’m talking about the money I gave him.”
“It’s gone, honey,” her mother said. “He spent it all on drugs.”
“It was three thousand dollars!”
“I know. It’s a terrible thing, but it’s gone.”
The news was both sickening and vindicating. Becky had long suspected that Perry was soulless and amoral. At least she could stop pretending she wanted a relationship with him.
“What about Jay, though? What about Clem?”
“We are borrowing the money you gave Judson,” her father said. “I’ve also obtained a loan from the church, which will help with the legal and medical expenses. But we still have a large shortfall.”
“And Clem? It’s not like he even wanted my money.”
Her father sighed and looked at her mother.
“Your younger brother is very seriously mentally ill,” her mother said. “At some point, in the course of his illness, he emptied Clem’s account as well.”
Becky stared at her. She was the victim, and her mother didn’t even have the guts to look at her.
“Emptied,” she said. “Don’t you mean stole?”
“I know it’s hard for you to understand,” her mother said, her eyes on the floor, “but Perry was too disturbed to know what he was doing.”
“How do you steal without knowing what you’re doing?”
Her father gave her a look of warning. “Our family has a very pressing need for money. I know it’s hard for you, but you’re part of this family. If the situation were reversed—”
“You mean, if I were a thief and a drug addict?”
“If you had a serious illness—and, make no mistake, Perry has a very serious illness—then, yes, I think your brothers would make any sacrifice we asked of them.”
“But it’s not even for his treatment. It’s just for the Navajos.”
“The loss of the farm equipment was devastating. It’s not the Navajos’ fault that your brother destroyed it.”
“Right. And it’s not his fault either, because he’s so seriously ill. Apparently it’s my fault.”
“Obviously,” her father said, “it’s not your fault, and I know how unfair it must seem to you. But we’re only asking for a loan, not a gift. Your mother will be looking for work, and I will be looking for a better-paid position. By this time next year, we might be able to repay some of what we’ve borrowed. We’ll also be more eligible for college financial aid.”
“It’s only for a little while, honey,” her mother said. “We’re only asking to borrow what Shirley gave you.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, Shirley gave me thirteen thousand dollars.”
“You’ll still have your own savings. If you want to start college in the fall, you can go to U of I for a year or two. Then you can transfer anywhere you like.”
Becky had received her acceptance letter from Beloit three days earlier. The idea of being a transfer student there, missing the freshman experience, entering a class whose social order had long since coalesced, seemed worse to her than not going at all. Of the thirteen thousand dollars she’d inherited, she’d given away nine with the assurance that the remaining four were hers alone to spend; that she still had special things coming to her. But her parents had disapproved of the inheritance from the start. They’d disapproved of Shirley, and now they’d gotten what they’d wanted all along, which was for Becky to have nothing. It was as if they were in league with God Himself, who, knowing everything, knew that beneath her Christian charity was a tough little core of selfishness. Her cheeks burned with hatred of her parents for exposing it.
“Fine,” she said. “You can have all of it. It’s fifty-two hundred dollars—take all of it.”