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I asked again, this time louder, “Who are you?”
Henry exclaimed, “You mean there’s another one?”
“Shh! Don’t say anything!” I cautioned him. “Why don’t you tell me your name? I know you’re not Jonquinette and you’re not Jude, so who are you?”
She rubbed her eyes like she was tired. “I don’t have a name,” she finally responded.
“Everyone has a name,” I insisted.
“Not me.”
“Then make up one,” I said. “I need to call you something.”
She thought about it for a moment and said, “Just call me Jetta. I think that sounds mad cool.”
“Okay, Jetta. Tell me, were you the one who stabbed Henry in the shoulder?”
Jetta grimaced. “Damn right, I did it.”
Henry asked, “Why did you stab me?”
Jetta ignored him and started staring at Meredith. “You thought you knew everything that was going on in your house, didn’t you?”
“What do you mean?” Meredith asked. “Please tell me what you mean.”
“Did you ever suspect?” Jetta kept her eyes fixated on Meredith but nodded in Henry’s direction. “Did you ever realize that he was a pedophile?”
Henry collapsed onto the chaise while Meredith pulled herself up off the floor. She walked over to us and got close enough to smell Jetta’s breath. “Pedophile?”
“Yes, you know wha
t that is, right? A person, or sick fuck as I prefer to call them, who has sexual desires for children.” Jetta glanced at Henry. “Now he’s sitting over there trying to play the pitiful act; probably thinking of a lie to tell, some excuse for why he did it.”
“What did he do, Jetta?” I asked, realizing we had finally made progress.
I had always felt there was at least one more personality living inside of Jonquinette. Jude professed to be all-powerful but something or someone had to be keeping her from taking over Jonquinette’s life completely. Now I knew her as Jetta.
“He molested Jon. What do you think he did?” she replied. “That’s why I allowed Jude to do what she did. I don’t even think she realizes what he did to Jon. She just hated him because he was trying to get rid of us. What she did was actually ingenious.” Jetta chuckled. “Wish I had thought of it. Instead, I tried to stab him to death but that didn’t work and I’m glad it didn’t. After it was over, I realized my mistake. I didn’t want Jon to end up in prison, along with Jude and the rest of us in tow, so I’m glad I missed his heart.”
Meredith looked at Henry in confusion. “Henry, is any of this true?”
“Yeah, Henry, is it true?” Jetta asked sarcastically. “Tell her the truth, Henry! Tell her about the bath-time fun when Jon was just four years old. Tell her about the fun in the shed in the backyard. That’s what you used to call it, right? Fun?”
Henry broke down and started sobbing. I went over to the chaise and sat beside him, rubbing his bare back. “By helping Jonquinette, you can also help yourself.”
“God help me!” he screamed out. “God help me, I did it!”
Meredith gasped. Jetta appeared sated and sat down.
“I molested my baby,” he continued. “But I couldn’t help it.” He pleaded with Meredith with his eyes. “Meredith, baby, I know I can never make up for what I did, but I tried. I did get help. I went and talked to someone and he helped me. That’s why I was trying to get you to get some help for Jonquinette, too.”
Meredith suddenly jumped on top of Henry and tried to choke him, knocking both me and him off the chaise. I tried to pry her hands off his neck. He was just willing to sit there and take it.
“This is totally your fault!” she screamed. “I’m going to kill you!”
Henry continued sobbing, Meredith continued choking and I continued trying to get her hands off him. “Jetta, help me,” I said. “You know this is wrong. It can’t all end like this.”
The situation seemed hopeless. Henry started gasping for air and I was stuck underneath him with all his weight on me trying to accomplish an impossible task.
