Ginger Fox Part 2

“Bob is a piece of shit, but he’s still Lorane’s obedient lapdog; he would never do anything against Jon.” Baby takes a deep breath, shaking her head at my theories. She went pale when I told her about my suspicions regarding Jon. “I know Jon is quiet and different, but it would be impossible for this to be happening. And Bob would be terrified to do something that could make him lose Lorane. He’s always been her lapdog since he was a teenager.”
“A teenager? How old was Lorane’s aunt when she got Bob, for him to be so much older than her cousin?” I ask, intrigued, thinking more about it. Their ages don’t add up; something is wrong with this calculation.
“Cousins?” Baby laughs sarcastically, looking toward the mansion with disgust. “Lorane lies to everyone, saying that boy is her cousin just to cover up her age.”
“Lies… What’s her real age?”
“Thirty-five, and yes, she still lies shamelessly. That kid is her younger sister’s son. Lorane has been sleeping with her own nephew since he turned eighteen.” The shock I feel from what she says and the disgust is enough to make bile rise in my throat. “That’s why I know he would never do that.”
“Baby…” I rub my face for the third time, anxious since the moment I told her about my suspicions, feeling even more disgusted knowing the true relationship between Lorane and Bob. “Most cases of child abuse are never noticed by family members; it’s the kind of thing everyone thinks, ‘that would never happen in my family,’ until it does.”
I stand up, needing to stretch my body; I’m on the edge of stress.
“Bob would have to be incredibly stupid to do something like that; Jonathan would kill him.” She stands up, handing me the phone.
“Jon is practically screaming for help every moment. God, I need someone else besides me to hear it!” I point at the phone, looking at it with pain. “You heard the song.”
“It’s just a song, Gim. That doesn’t mean he intends to grab a gun and start shooting or that he wants to kill himself.” She shakes the phone in her fingers, looking at me. “Jon is just a kid…”
“A kid who is suffering!” I pull the phone, pointing at it. “Children who suffer continuous abuse try to show what they’re going through in drawings, in silent behaviors. Jon is communicating through music.”
I stop in front of her, making her look at me. I need to be heard; I need someone to hear Jon and help him because alone I can’t do anything; it will be my word against one of theirs.
“How do you know these things, Gim?”
“I wanted to study sexology, but Tom and my mom thought it was nonsense, and to avoid an eternal fight with them—” I put the phone in my pocket, seeing her look at me, trying not to laugh—“I opted for Business Administration. Even so, during my class breaks, or when I knew Tom would be late, I’d stay in the back of the auditorium, attending psychoanalysis classes.”
“You went from being a sexologist to an administrator? Just to please a guy who’s disgusted by assholes?”
I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. I notice that Baby likes to use humor when she’s nervous, and that’s what she’s trying to do now, to break her nervousness.

“My academic background isn’t the focus right now, Baby,” I reply softly, opening my eyes.
Baby is lost. Her fingers are pressing into her palm, which is closing tightly.
“Bob would be signing his own death certificate if he touched Jon inside my brother’s house.” I scrunch up my nose, rubbing my forehead, unsure how to approach this topic.
“Baby, I know it might sound crazy, but…” I exhale forcefully, looking at her with confusion. “What if it wasn’t Bob?”
“Not Bob? If it wasn’t him, who could it be? Robert?” She shakes her head, unable to imagine the old gardener entering the mansion without anyone noticing.
“In the first week, when I arrived, I woke up to Jon screaming in his room. I ran there. Jon was lying in a fetal position, naked, crying uncontrollably.” Baby’s eyes widen, her mouth pressed tightly, and this time there’s no way to use her playful humor to mask her reaction of hatred. “Baby, I locked his room door before going to sleep; I’m sure of it. But when I checked after calming him down, the door was open.”
Baby curls up, making me go to her aid. I hold her hands and help her sit in the sand. She looks lost at the sea. I kneel in the hot sand in front of her, taking a deep breath.
“Baby, if I locked that room from the inside, who else could have had the key to get in?”
She turns her face to me, considering my question. And she immediately reacts, shaking her head.
“No!” Her voice is firm as she responds quickly. “You’re mistaken. Never, ever, under any circumstances would Jonathan harm Jon.” Somehow, her words lift a massive weight off my heart, making it beat again. “Jonathan can be a huge asshole when he wants to, but he would never hurt Jon, which is why he brought you here.”
“He brought me?” I’ve just received an answer to my question, but now others come up, as instant as the previous one.
“Yes. Jon was closing himself off more with each passing year. The women Lorane hired to stay with him during the summers only made him withdraw further. So Jonathan decided this time he would choose the companion himself because he wanted someone young, someone who would make Jon want to stay in the mansion. My brother doesn’t intend to send Jon to boarding school anymore. He wants Jon here, on the island, by his side. Jon is important to him; Jon is important to me. That’s why I know he would never do anything against that boy.”
My butt sinks into the sand, my legs adjusting to the side. I’m being pulled in so many directions by doubts, feeling like I’m running in circles, only to end up back where I started. I’m going in circles.
Why is Jon so important to Jonathan?

“Someone is hurting Jon,” I whisper with pain, looking at my fingers. “I need you to believe me and help me save him.”
Baby’s hand reaches out, cupping my face, using her finger to wipe the side of my eyes where a tear is falling.
“Jon has been seeing a therapist since he was seven, Gim. Lorane even arranged for the doctor to evaluate him.” She looks at me with affection, gently stroking my face. “If something as monstrous as this were happening, the doctor would have already discovered it, and Lorane would have told us.”
I lift my hand, using my arm to wipe my nose and shake my head.
“Did she tell you Jon has OCD?” Baby looks at me confused, as if she’s hearing this for the first time. “That’s why no one goes into his room, not even the maid to put away his clothes. That’s why every book is cataloged alphabetically in the library. Jon gets anxious. He suffers so much that even the slightest disorganization around him causes him pain.”
“That could just be a family thing,” she whispers, lost in thought, trying to understand.
“Did his father or mother have OCD?” I blink through the tears, trying to make sense of what she’s saying.
“No, they didn’t. Jonathan also suffers from Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder.” I wipe my face, receiving yet another piece of new information.
It’s layers, everything and everyone inside that mansion.
“Does Mr. Roy have OCD?”