Tainted by Crazy

by Abby Mccarthy

  I wanted nothing to do with it. I waited by the door, but Momma grabbed my hand. “It’s too hot outside. You’ll melt. Come inside. Everything will be alright.”

  “I wouldn’t melt, if I had ice cream,” I mumbled and was met with a look of agitation from her. I knew that look, and she said we wouldn't be here long. I didn't want to make her upset. Besides, things had been better since she’d gotten out of the hospital. So, I followed her inside.

  It was dirty. A white plastic table that matched the chair out front was against the window and a small TV sat on top of that. Beer cans littered the inside too. It smelled like cigarettes and other not so good things. I liked how Grams' house smelled, not this place. This place wasn't a home. Momma didn’t seem to notice. She sat on the edge of the bed that was in the same room as everything else. He sat down next to her. I stood in the doorway wishing for an excuse to escape.

  “What’s with the kid?”

  “You know, I have a girl. My mom let me borrow her car to take her for ice cream, and I had to see you,” Momma beamed, “What do you think? You got any ice cream for me?” she purred.

  The man laughed, “I think I do. I know just what kind of cream you need.”

  I didn't know what he was talking about, but the way he said that it made my stomach turn and suddenly I no longer wanted ice cream. All I wanted was to go home, to Grams.

  “Maple, have a seat. Watch something on the TV, would you?” Momma said motioning towards another white plastic chair. The man got up and hit a button on the TV. As he passed me, I could smell his body stench, and it reminded me of other men Momma had brought me around. None of them were good.

  He opened a flimsy room separator and I could see part of a toilet. I couldn't see what he was doing in there, but then he leaned over Momma and said, “Open your mouth, Gracie.” I watched her gulp, swallowing whatever he placed in her mouth.

  She did like he instructed and I watched as he slipped something into her mouth. He moved his mouth to her jawline and licked the side of her cheek. “Momma, I want to go,” I whined. I didn’t want to be here. Momma’s face took on a faraway, happy look, but she didn't really seem happy. She seemed empty; that familiar vacant look was back, “Hush, Maple.” she directed.

  “Yeah, shut it!”

  I turned trying to ignore what was happening. They were right next to me. I tried to look out the window and away from what the man was doing but it was too late. I saw as he pulled down my Momma’s dress and took her breast into his mouth, she moaned loudly. It felt like she forgot I was even there, like I was invisible. I stood, and reached for the door praying I truly was.

  “No, you don’t go anywhere. I like an audience,” the man said. I sat afraid of what the man would do. I’d been around other men of Momma’s, and I knew they weren't good. I tried to look out the window or at the TV, anywhere, but at the bed.

  Momma moaned again, and I couldn't help but look. I was young and curious. Was he hurting her? “Yes, do that!” she said and I watched as he made eye contact with me and then with his eyes on me he removed Momma’s dress.

  I looked away again. This was wrong. I wanted to go home. I didn’t want to be here.

  “Maple? That your name?” he asked. I didn’t answer and he didn't like that. “I’m talking to you.”

  “Maple,” Mom purred and I looked at her only to notice that her eyes were glassed over. She was here, but she wasn’t. A smile plastered her face, but the woman staring back at me wasn't the happy woman that picked me up a little while ago. She was someone else. Someone I wish I didn't recognize, but did.

  “Want you watching. Don't look away, or I’m gonna make you join,” the man said. Tears leaked out of my eyes, but I watched. I didn't want him to touch me. My lip trembled, and I whimpered a soft cry as the man took off his shirt and then his belt buckle.

  “You got a problem, or something?” that same man asked me, breaking me from the memory. I didn't answer him. I glowered at him, showing him how much I detested him in one single stare. I hated this man. I brought my beer to my lips, and finished it off.

  “Hey Iggy, can I have another?” I called out. She looked hard at me, then to the man, then back to me. She leaned in close, “You alright?” she asked. I barely paid any mind to her. My anger was palpable.

  “Can I get another beer, please?” I asked again. A minute later, she set the beer down in front of me.

  “Honey, you can talk to me,” she said patting my hand.

  I shook my head and stared at the man.

  I don’t know how many times or ways he made me watch him do things to my Momma. The sun had already set and risen again. They finally fell asleep. I opened the door and ran. I was exhausted from being up all night. I was exhausted from crying. I wanted to run from everything I just saw. My feet pounded against the gravel drive. I didn’t care about any of my surroundings accept to get out of here. I ran out of the park and down a road. My lungs burned and my calves ached, but I kept going. Finally, I came across a gas station. I opened the door and spotted a younger woman behind the register. I cried again, so happy to see someone who could help me.

  The woman spotted me immediately, “You alright, kid?” she asked and then popped her gum. I shook my head. “Shit, just what I need. Can I call someone for you?”

  I wished like heck I could remember Grams number. A look of panic flashed across my eyes.

  “Can you talk kid?” she asked.

  I nodded. “I can't remember Grams number.” I started to cry again, but then a thought occurred to me. “Can you call Earl Montgomery with the Ashford Police Department?”

  “Shit, kid. You are in some trouble, aren’t ya?” She picked up her phone and pressed several buttons and then said, “Ashford Police Department… Yes,” and then there was a pause and I heard her say, “I got a kid here who looks like she’s seen a ghost. Asking for an Earl Montgomery. Yeah, alright. What’s your name kid?” she asked me.

  “Maple. Maple Wilshire.”

  She finished her conversation telling them where we were, and hung up the phone.

  “Said they gotta wake him up, but someone will be here to get you. It’s about thirty or so minutes from here. Why don’t you go use the bathroom, and clean yourself up?” She motioned towards the back of the gas station and my eyes followed her hands to a door in the back that read restrooms overhead. I thanked her, then raced to the back of the store. I locked the bathroom door behind me and wept. Sometime later, there was a knock at the door and a man’s voice I recognized called my name, “Maple honey, it’s Earl open up.”

  “Maple?” A man’s voice broke me out of my memory. No, not any man, but Keenan Rys.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked bitterly, my eyes still locked in hatred on the man who stole my innocence. He may not have touched me physically, but the things he took from me that night were just as valuable.

  He nodded to Iggy, “She called me, said you could use a friend.” I shot a look at Iggy, and then back to the man. His eyes raked over me and I lost it. I stormed over to him and took what was left of my beer and then threw it on him.

  Iggy gasped.

  The man laughed and stood.

  “Look just like her.”

  I vaguely felt Rys presence beside me. “I hate you,” I spat and reared my hand back to slap him.

  Rys grabbed my hand before it could connect. “No, honey. It ain’t worth it.”

  I raised my other hand to try again, and felt Rys’ other arm wrap around me.

  “Let me go!” I shouted.

  “You’re not welcome here, old man. You need to leave, before I deal with you myself,” Rys said.

  I struggled to break free from Rys, but his grip around me held me firmly in place.

  “Iggy, you gonna let these folks treat your paying customers like this?” The man asked.

  “I don't know what you did, but Maple’s one of ours. Get gone,” Iggy said.

  I barely registered anyone around me. All I kn
ew was that the man who made me watch as he took my mother and stole my innocence was in front of me, and I was no longer the afraid little girl.

  I lashed out again, and kicked my legs, only to be held back by Rys, so I spit on the man. “You’re a pig!”

  “You’re just as crazy as she was. Stupid cunt!” He sneered.

  Suddenly, the weight around my arms was no longer there. Rys, faster than I could’ve thought was possible, released me and slammed the man’s face against the bar, twisting his arm behind his back.

  “You don’t come here. You don't talk to Maple. You don't even look in her direction. You do, you’re going to have some real problems, old man.”

  “Rys!” I could hear the warning in Iggy’s voice.

  The man’s breathing was labored, like he wanted to say something, but was biting his tongue. I was free to attack him, but I was frozen in place. His words cut me, taking hold of a deep-rooted fear that I was as crazy as she was. That thought made me tremble. I wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline from seeing him, or the fear that I was like her, but things felt fuzzy around me. I was numb as Rys ushered the man past me, and threw him out of the bar.

  “Maple, what the hell was that?” Iggy asked me.

  I was shaking and couldn't answer. Rys’ hands went around my shoulders. “I’m gonna take her home.”

  I shook my head, “I’m not leaving Bertha here.” My voice was flat.

  “I’ll come back for my truck.”

  We stepped outside and I was on edge looking around to see if that man was still out there. I didn't see him. Rys must have sensed that I was on the look-out because he responded to my darting eyes. “Saw him drive away. Give me your keys, Maple.” I should’ve protested. I never let people drive Bertha, but I reached in my pocket, dug out the key and handed it over. He shuffled me over to Bertha, unlocked the door and ushered me in. The drive to Grams was quick, and again I simply complied when Rys asked for the keys to the house.

  I numbly followed him inside and slumped on the couch, then curled into a ball. I didn’t have tears. No, I was numb. It wasn't about the anger I felt either. It was those words, crazy just like her.

  Rys brushed a strand of hair from my face. “Let me in. What’s happening? Who was that guy?”

  I didn't talk. I wasn’t sure what to say. I did behave like I was crazy in there. I stared down an old drunk, then threw beer at him, tried to hit him and then spit on him. Those weren’t the actions of a sane person, were they? Even when things went bad with Bradley, I took a baseball bat out. I had rage inside of me, and that scared the heck out of me.

  Rys, being Rys, didn't let up. He lifted me from my curled up position, sat down beside me and pulled me into his lap. This was way more intimate than friends, but I didn’t fight it. I couldn't. Maybe, I was crazy for letting him hold me. Either way, I was lost. Placing me in his lap crossed an invisible barrier; one that eradicated barely formed walls. I had layered bricks around my heart and he quickly made them crumble. Being wrapped in his arms gave me a comfort that I was not sure I was ready for, but I needed all the same.

  “Tell me,” he pleaded again, his voice soft, with that husky tone laid just below the surface. “I don't know what that man did to you, but I’m imagining the worst, and I want to kill him. If I didn’t know that you’d be okay by yourself, I’d be kicking an old man’s ass for whatever he did. That said, you’re more important. Talk to me.”

  Where would I even begin? I didn't want him thinking that man raped me, and I imagined that’s what was going through his mind. I took a deep breath, and decided to take a leap, and give it to him.

  I sighed and closed my eyes. When I opened them, Rys beautiful eyes were staring back at me.

  It was warm in here, and I felt a small droplet of sweat bead at my brow. Here goes nothing I thought, “My Momma was nuts. Like, nuts. Not a little crazy, but full-fledged nuts. What that guy said about her being crazy was the truth.” I looked for any judgment on his face, but saw only concern. “Looking back, just about every memory I have was somehow tainted by crazy.”

  “What was wrong with her?” he asked pulling my hair off of my neck and trailing his fingers through my thick dark tresses.

  “You name it, and they diagnosed her with it. Manic depressive with severe personality disorders, anxiety disorders, bipolar and then lastly, severe psychosis. Wait. Dare I forget drug addict? My Grams took custody of me when I was eight, but Momma would get better for a little while, or so it seemed. Then we’d spend time together only for something really messed up to happen. It was my Momma, ya’ know? So, no matter how many times she would hurt me or put me in dangerous situations, I still loved her. I clung to any attention I could get from her. And when she was at her highs, things would almost seem fun, but the bad times. Keenan, the bad times were the worst. That man gave my Momma drugs in front of me, then had sex with her and made me watch. Said if I turned away then he would do to me what he was doing to Ma. I don’t know what he gave her, but she was so into everything he was doing to her that it was like I wasn't even there. This went on for hours. When they finally passed out, I ran.”

  “Shit. Honey,” he called me honey and I liked that coming from him, but there was no longer softness in his voice. His voice was angry. “What happened when you ran?”

  “I went to a gas station and called Earl. I hadn’t slept all night and was so scared, I couldn't remember my Grams number. I remembered his name from the last time I needed saving and so he picked me up. I never told anyone what happened.”

  “So, no one knew what he did?”

  “Looking back, what could they really have done? So, what he had sex in front of a nine-year-old, it’s not like he touched me.”

  “Jesus, he made you watch. There’s a ton of laws he broke. How about child abuse, gross sexual imposition to name a few? You should’ve said something.”

  “I was a kid and I was scared. I didn’t know what to do, but as scared as I was of that man, I didn't want Momma to go to jail.”

  “So, you were a kid, protecting your mentally ill, drug addict mom, and that sick fucker got off scot free. I’m gonna find him and make him pay.” He began to move me, and I figured out that he meant now. He was going to make him pay right now.

  I threw my arms around his neck, “No, it’s not worth it.” I pleaded with him to stay. I couldn't let him get into trouble for beating an old man who hurt me more than twenty-one-years ago. Plus, telling him something I’d never shared with anyone before meant something to me, and I didn’t want him to go. I didn’t want to be alone.

  “You’re worth it.” He began to pry my hands again.

  “Stay with me. I don't want to be alone.”

  He sighed. It was the kind of sigh that spoke volumes. It said, I’m not letting this go, but I will for now. With that sigh, I also realized that there was something between the two of us. Some part of him connected with a part of me so deeply that I was able to open up and tell him things I’d never told another soul. All of my anger and fear, right then, was gone. What I felt in Keenan Rys’ arms after revealing some of my darkest secrets, was liberated.

  He closed his eyes and tightened his arms around me. “It’s taking everything in me to not go after that man for sexually abusing you.”

  Confusion marred my face, “He didn’t sexually abuse me. He didn't touch me,” I defended. I just told him the story. How could he think I was sexually abused?

  “Maple. He might not have touched you, but exposing you to sex like that was a form of sexual abuse.” He told me this with compassion, and then lifted my chin so that my eyes met his. I hadn’t even realized I'd broken eye contact. “You do realize that, right?”

  Did I? I guess I always thought it was sick, but I never thought of it as a form of sexual abuse. “I guess, I just never thought of it that way.”

  “Well, that’s exactly what that is, and it’s taking everything in me not to go after that guy. I gotta tell you, when you were about to attack th
at guy and then he called you crazy, your switch flipped. You went from angry to something else. It’s like you closed in on yourself. I’ve never seen a light dim so quick.”

  I tried to look away again, but he held me in place. “You’re not crazy. You’re pissed, because they took things from you that no one deserves to have taken, and you have every right to be pissed.”

  I searched his eyes for a good long minute until I decided that he spoke the truth. “Thank you,” I whispered and curled my head into the crook of Rys’ neck. He held me for some time and when my eyes grew heavy, I let sleep take me.

  I awoke to the fresh smell of coffee. I blinked. Where was I? A warm blanket was wrapped around me and I opened my eyes fully to see that I was on the couch. It took me a moment before I remembered the night before. I sat up, and noticed the French doors off the dining room were wide open letting in the morning air.

  “There you are. Morning,” Rys walked out of the kitchen holding a steaming cup of coffee, and then took a sip. I blinked at him. It was morning and he’d made coffee; in my house.

  “Did you stay the night?”

  He looked almost shy for a second. “I didn’t want to leave you alone, in case you woke up. Plus, I think if I left last night, I would’ve gone after him.”

  “Where did you sleep?”

  He looked embarrassed. “You fell asleep, so I went upstairs and grabbed a blanket to cover you. I was going to leave, but after I put the blanket on you, you mumbled for me to stay.” He shrugged then continued, “So, I locked up the house and sat back down on the couch. You curled up next to me, and I couldn't help it. I dozed off.”

  I blinked. He slept here with me on this tiny couch. That was sweet. “That had to be uncomfortable.”

  He grinned at me and took a sip of his coffee. I watched as his Adam’s apple gulped down the liquid. I stopped breathing and then I realized I was holding my breath.

  “Is there more?” I gestured to his coffee.

  “Yeah,” he watched me and a smile danced in his eyes.