Gray Girl

by Susan I. Spieth

  What’s that suppose to mean? “Okay, then wear the loafers, Sir,” she said with that look.

  “No, Wishart, I only meant that after a big night of bar hopping, it’s sometimes difficult to deal with boots.” He was doing it again. Messing up everything that came out of his mouth. “I mean, after drinking and all….you know what I mean, right?”

  “I think so, Sir. Wear the loafers.”

  “Okay. Well, thanks for the advice.”

  “Anytime, Sir.”

  Dear SKIP,

  I thought I had found you out. But, alas, I was wrong. It’s not the first time.

  I don’t think I want to know your identity now. If I know who you are, I might act all stupid around you. Maybe I should just stay in the dark.

  Since we are closing in on the end of this year, I also think it's best to stop corresponding. This cannot go on forever, and I think the letters have served their purpose. You really helped me get through plebe year. For that, I want to say thank you. Without knowing who you are, you have been one of the best friends I made this year.

  Take care,

  Jan

  PS. No, forget that shit. I have to know who you are.

  He read her last note. It still surprised him when she wrote back. He never really expected her to respond the first time. Yet, they just kept coming.

  He wasn’t very good at talking to women. He always got “all stupid,” as Jan had written. Even the few times he had actually spoken to her, he messed it all up. That’s why he started the notes.

  He wouldn’t be able to hide behind “SKIP” much longer. He decided to let her know his identity on Recognition Day, although, he hoped she would figure it out on her own first. That meant he had about two weeks left to drop a big hint.

  Dear Jan,

  Don’t worry about acting “all stupid around me.” In case you haven’t guessed, I have kept you “in the dark” because I’m the one who’s likely to act all stupid around you. And yes, maybe these letters have run their course. But I have really enjoyed the diversion. I hope you have too.

  I can’t believe you haven’t guessed my identity yet. I have been hiding in plain view all along. Even more this semester than last. I will definitely reveal myself on Recognition Day.

  I'm sorry I couldn't get you to join our organization—you proved to be a tougher case than I thought! You've taught me a lot, too. I hope we will communicate as freely next year as we have this year, maybe even using our voices.

  God Bless,

  SKIP

  35

  Saturday, May 8, 1982

  0115 Hours

  The slow reaction of the Cadet in Charge prompted Jan to shout again, “YOU HAVE TO DO SOMETHING, NOW!”

  That seemed to work as he picked up a field radio receiver, clicked the handle and said, “Sir, we’ve got a situation here. Come quickly.” He put the handle back in its cradle and looked at Jan. “This better not be some kind of prank.”

  “It’s not. Now come on. We have to get back to the Mess Hall.”

  “I can’t go until the OIC gets here.” The Officer in Charge, a Captain or Major, stayed on duty through the night at the Command Guard Office.

  “Where is he? How long till he gets here?” she demanded.

  “He’s making the rounds over in First Regiment, but he’s coming directly.”

  Jan opened the door. “I can’t wait that long. When he gets here, run, I mean RUN, to the Mess Hall Poop Deck area.” Then she took off at a full sprint back to find Kristi.

  “Kristi,” she whispered as she approached the Poop Deck. “Kristi.”

  “I’m all right,” Kristi shouted from the top. “You don’t have to whisper now.” Jan ran up the steps, two at a time to find her roommate sitting on the floor by the doorway. It was still hard to see anything, but light from an exit sign above reflected dark stains on the front of Kristi’s USMA sweatshirt. Jan assumed it was sweat.

  “You must have had quite a workout,” she said, “you’re sweating like a…”

  “It’s blood, Jan,” Kristi said blankly.

  “Shit! Are you okay?” Jan bent down to get a closer look at Kristi.

  “I’m okay, I think. Most of it’s…not mine.” Kristi began to stand up. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Oh, my God, Kristi, what happened?” Jan pulled Kristi’s arms to help her stand, but she slumped back down to the floor.

  “I defended myself; that’s all.”

  “Help is coming, Kristi. I think you may be hurt.” Jan suddenly felt more scared than she had all night.

  “No, I’m fine, really. Just worn out. I must’ve hit a main artery.”

  Just then Jan looked toward the middle of the Poop Deck. In the darkness, she could barely make out a figure lying on the floor in what looked like a large puddle. “Oh, my God!”

  36

  “Encourage us in our endeavors to live above the common level of life. Make us to choose the harder right instead of the easier wrong, and never to be content with a half truth when the whole can be won. Endow us with courage that is borne of loyalty to all that is noble and worthy, that scorns to compromise with vice and injustice and knows no fear when truth and right are in jeopardy.”

  From The Cadet Prayer

  She awoke at 0500 exactly. Shit, shit, shit. Already late. She flew into class uniform, brushed her teeth, and bolted out the door without even stopping to pee.

  She had been up late last night. Both Dogety and Jackson, drunk from their weekend pass, tasked her with couriering an envelope back and forth between H-3 and B-1. Then they accused her of tampering with their routing envelope with their little love notes to each other. She could not give a damn what they were writing back and forth. She just wanted to be left alone.

  Jan thought she had made some headway with Dogety. He had treated her better in the past few weeks and he seemed to actually value her opinion at times. She couldn’t say she liked him, yet she no longer hated him either. Although he had made her life miserable most of the year, it’s possible that he was not a bad guy if one was inclined to get to know him. She was not, however, so inclined.

  Jackson, on the other hand, was a very bad guy. Dogety may have been a hard-ass, but Jackson had been a monster. Women cadets knew to steer clear of Jackson. They knew he was not someone you trusted. He wasn’t someone to be alone with either, if you were a female cadet.

  Jan had not always been afraid of him, like the time during Beast, when he found her alone on the Land Navigation Course. Her anger overrode any fear she probably should have felt. But as the year dragged on, after a few close encounters with the creep, and being ninety-nine percent sure he was the one who raped Debra, she developed a healthy fear of the man whom she despised more than any other cadet at West Point.

  Now she had to report to his room at o’dark thirty. She hoped he would be sleeping off his drunkenness and would tell her to go away. But either way, this would be the last time she would have to deal with him. She would shine his shoes, if that’s what he wanted, and she would say, “yes, Sir” about ten times, then she would be done with him for good. He would graduate in about two weeks and she would be free of him forever. Amen.

  She softly knocked twice on his door. When there wasn’t an answer, she knocked again. Finally she heard a groggy, “Come in.”

  She entered the room. It was semi-dark, but she could make out the form of someone lying in the left bed. The bed on the right side was not made up, no one in it. Damn.

  “Who is it?” Jackson groaned.

  “Sir, Cadet Wishart reporting as ordered.” She stood just inside his door.

  “Dammit Wishart, you just woke me up from a great dream.”

  “Sir, you told….”

  “Goddammit.” He rolled onto his side, facing the middle of the room. “Go get my shoes from under my desk.”

  Damn. She left the door open and walked behind his desk. She bent down to get his shoes, somewhere on the floor she presumed. When she couldn
’t see them readily, she felt around under his desk and chair for them.

  Jackson sat up on the side of his bed and then walked to his door and closed it.

  Jan hit her head on his desk as she came back up with the shoes. “Shit!” She stood by his desk at the back of the room with one black cadet shoe in each hand. Jackson stood by the door wearing only his underwear and a t-shirt with a hawk, wings spread in flight, on the front. Jan stared at his chest with the giant bird and “Hilldale Hawks” written above it. Jackson started walking toward her.

  She threw the shoe in her right hand at him, hitting him squarely in his hawk chest. He lunged at her, but she lurched forward explosively, just like pushing off the pool floor in the Bob and Travel. He grabbed her by the wrist. She twisted away from him and hit him on the head with the other shoe. He wrangled the shoe from her left hand and it whacked her across the face, hitting her in the mouth.

  “You fucking asshole!” she shouted, while turning toward the door.

  He pushed her forward, knocking her into the sink counter. “Get the hell out of my room. I don’t ever want to see you again in B-1!”

  She flung the door open and gave him the finger before bolting out.

  She kept running. She ran down the hall and down the stairwell. She ran out of Old South and away from First Regiment. She ran and ran and ran and ran.

  She ran all the way up to the Cadet Chapel, where she realized her lip was bleeding. She tasted saltiness in her mouth and spit. Even in the dark, she could see the blood mixed with saliva. She walked back down to the Mess Hall and found an ice machine. Wrapping some in a cloth napkin, she held it to her lip while sitting alone at one of the five hundred or so tables. The sun had not yet come up.

  “Sir, I need to talk to you.” She stood at Dogety’s door. It was her first free period after breakfast.

  “What is it, Miss Wishart?” he asked.

  She walked into his room without permission. “Jackson raped Cadet Plowden over Army/Navy weekend. And this morning, he tried to accost me. Fortunately, I fought him off.”

  Dogety had been standing by his desk with an open book in his hand. He closed the book and placed it on his desk. Then he sat down in his chair. “Could you say that again? I’m not sure what I just heard.”

  “Sir, you heard me. And it’s true. He’s a threat to every woman in the Corps. And he will be a threat to every woman under his command.” Jan remained standing in the middle of his room.

  Sam Dogety let out a long breath. “Do you have any proof?”

  Jan was afraid he’d ask that. “I cannot prove what happened at Army/Navy, but Hambin, Trane and McCarron can attest to some of it. You thought Plowden was stupid drunk, remember? Well, I’m almost positive she was drugged. She didn’t have that much to drink.” She waited for him to say something. When he didn’t, she continued, “She didn’t want to report it. She didn’t want to relive the whole thing, so she made us promise to keep quiet.”

  Dogety stared at her. She couldn’t tell whether he believed her or not. “And you know Jackson ordered me to report to his room this morning at 0500, right?”

  “And I told you to ignore that,” Dogety said angrily.

  “Well, he closed his door while I was getting his shoes from under his desk.” She saw Dogety grimace. “I want to have him arrested,” she said. “I want his ass thrown in jail.”

  Dogety stood up and walked to his door, closing it. Then he walked back to Jan, facing her. “Do you realize what you’re saying?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She stared straight at him, eye to eye. “He’s got to go.”

  “But what proof do you have? What can you show that he did any of this?”

  “I only have my word. But I’m sure there are other women.” She kept her eyes with his, but she began to sense his doubt. “When I tried to escape his room, he hit me in the face with his shoe. My lip is cut.”

  He moved his eyes to her mouth. “Your lip looks fine. I don’t see a cut.”

  “It’s on the bottom inside of my lip. It was bleeding and I put ice on it before breakfast.” She instinctively rolled her tongue over the lump inside her bottom lip.

  Dogety lifted his hand. “May I touch you?” he asked.

  She nodded, yes. He placed the forefinger of his right hand under her chin and gently pulled down her bottom lip with his thumb. His fingers felt soft and soothing. She tilted her head slightly back.

  Dogety stared at the cut, now a red swelling just inside the lower lip. He held her lip open longer than necessary, almost mesmerized by the tender, red, moist skin of her mouth. She closed her eyes and swallowed a small lump that had risen in her throat.

  It shouldn’t have happened. He knew it was wrong. She had just been through a traumatic experience, and some might say he was taking advantage of her vulnerability. But he did it anyway. Softly, while his thumb still held her lip, while her eyes were still closed, he leaned in and gently kissed her.

  She didn’t back away. She welcomed the warm kiss to her lips. Somehow, it seemed right, although she knew they were breaking more rules. Somehow, he made her feel safe. And now that she thought about it, she always felt safe with Dogety despite how belittled he made her feel at times.

  They kissed gently once, then again, then once more. She opened her eyes. “Does this mean you believe me?” she asked quietly.

  “Yes, I believe you,” he said as he dropped his hand and straightened up. He walked to his desk chair and sat down. “But I know Markus. He might lose his temper sometimes, but I just don’t see him as a rapist. He’s against women at West Point, but he’s not a woman hater in general.”

  “How do you know? I mean most rapists don’t exactly play the part, do they? He wouldn’t act like one to his friends, of course.”

  Dogety leaned forward over his desk and shook his head. “He’s my best friend. I’ll go talk to him today.”

  “No! That’s not good enough!” Jan protested. “I know what I’m going to do. I’m going to the TAC as soon as he gets in today,” Jan said matter of factly. “I’m going to make a formal complaint, and I’m skipping the chain of command.”

  Dogety sighed deeply. “That’s one way to handle it. But without any witnesses and without any other proof, I’m afraid it won’t go anywhere.” He picked up a pencil and began tapping it on the desk. “Of course, you can do what you think is best. But I would like to talk to him first. If I tell him I saw the cut on your lip, he may even admit to it. Then I can, at least, verify your story.” He stopped tapping the pencil. “Of course, this means I will lose a lot of friends, you understand. No one is going to like me for turning on my classmate, especially for a female plebe.”

  “Even if he’s a threat to women everywhere? Even if he deserves every bit of his punishment? I think most people would be happy about getting a rapist off the streets, so to speak.”

  “Jan,” he said using her first name for the first time, “Most people won’t believe he’s a rapist. At best, most will think that he lost self-control for a moment, something that could happen to any of us. At worst, they will believe you seduced him and now you’re blaming him for refusing your advances.”

  She stared at Dogety in disbelief. What would Cadet Trane believe? What would SKIP think? Would all her classmates turn against her? Those were risks she could accept. She didn’t want Jackson getting away with this. “If you want to talk to him, go ahead. But either way, I’m going to make an official complaint as soon as I can.”

  Jan went by Captain Spanner’s office several times, but the H-3 Company TAC was out of the office all day.

  By 1600 hours, Cadet Markus Jackson filed an honor report accusing Jan Wishart of lying. The B-1 Honor Representative conducted an informal investigation the next day, May 4, 1982. Cadet Trane, Company H-3 Honor Representative, received the report at 2230 hours that evening. The next morning, Wednesday, May 5, he informed Jan that she would have to defend herself at an Honor Board which would begin the following day.

&n
bsp; 37

  Saturday, May 8, 1982

  0200 Hours

  Major Camden, the Officer in Charge, ordered one of the cadet guards to find and turn on all the Mess Hall lights. He told the other one to call the MP’s and an ambulance. He made Jan and Kristi stay seated by the upper door to the Poop Deck. He used a two-way radio to communicate with the Guard Office. “The ambulance and MP’s are coming. But I need you to go to the Supe’s house right now and personally wake him up. Tell him it’s an emergency. He needs to get here ASAP.” Then he looked at Jan, “Who else should we notify besides your TAC?”

  “Please get Cadet Dogety from H-3,” Jan said. “And maybe someone from JAG.” Jan marveled at how clearly she was thinking. She understood right away what this would mean for both Kristi and her. “Also, send some MP’s over to the basement room under the Mess Hall, level B-4. There’s a young woman tied up there. She’s a witness.”

  The Poop Deck soon erupted in chaos. The MP’s took pictures, drew a chalk outline around the body, covered it with a sheet, and placed markers at every blood spot. The Superintendent stood with his arms crossed, listening to a JAG officer. Everyone seemed to ignore Jan and Kristi, still sitting silently under the exit sign.

  Captain Spanner, the H-3 TAC finally walked over to the two women. “Miss Wishart, Miss McCarron, are both of you all right?”

  “Sir, I think Cadet McCarron is injured.”

  “My wrist and ribs are sore, but I think I’m okay, Jan.”

  “I’m going to send one of the medics over to look at you once they finish over there,” Captain Spanner nodded toward the center of the Poop Deck. “But I need you both to listen to me now. This is very important.” He waited until they looked at him directly. “Do not talk to anyone before you speak to the JAG officer, Major Quiddy. Not the Supe. Not the MP’s. Not even me. Once you’ve told Major Quiddy everything, he will advise what to do next. Be sure he reads your written statement before you sign it. Do you both understand me?”