Rachel's Blue

by Zakes Mda

  “He’s an evil man,” says Nana Moira. “I don’t wanna see him nowhere near the Centre ever. Something wrong with men, I bet you.”

  Rachel’s mind wanders to another man, the one they left on the dirt road leading to their driveway. Something wrong with him, for sure. He had parked his bike right in front of Rachel’s door for most of the weekend. He only left late at night to take a shower at his motel room on East State and buy something to eat and drink. Then he rode back with his provisions to Rachel’s house. Whenever Nana Moira came out of the door he pleaded with her to talk to Rachel.

  Rachel was annoyed but at the same time flattered that a man could go to these lengths for her. But she vowed to herself that she would not melt.

  At first the women did not allow Blue to play outside. But when he threw a tantrum they let him go. Skye whiled away time playing with him.

  Rachel phoned Rain who had no clue what her brother was up to.

  “Those are the tactics he uses against fracking companies,” said Rain. “That’s what you guys do; chain yourselves to equipment, sit-in at offices and at fracking sites and refuse to move. He thinks if it works with fracking companies it’ll work with you.”

  Rain laughed and hung up.

  When Nana Moira took Blue to the Centre this morning Skye was still there. She told him he was trespassing and threatened to call the law. She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of threatening him with the law the whole weekend the man was parked in her yard. It’s simply that it takes a lot of real serious trouble for folks in these parts to call the law on anybody. They prefer solving problems themselves, sometimes with a shotgun.

  That’s when Skye moved away from the premises and parked on the dirt road.

  The romantic in Nana Moira began to soften. She pleaded with Rachel as they drove to Urbaniak’s office to at least listen to what the man has to say. How many women out there wouldn’t kill to be pursued so relentlessly by a man? A man with a job to boot?

  “There’s something more serious that I need to discuss with you,” says Urbaniak, bringing Rachel to the present.

  Last week Urbaniak and Troy conferred with the magistrate. The magistrate said if the parties did not have a settlement by the date of the next hearing none of them would like her judgment.

  “It became clear to me that we are not winning this case,” says the lawyer.

  No. Not that the magistrate would grant Jason sole custody. There is no likelihood of her doing that unless Rachel was proved to be an utter junkie who peed on herself. But there is the likelihood that she will grant him some parenting time in one form or another. Maybe even joint custody.

  “We need to pre-empt that,” says Urbaniak. “Let’s offer them generous visitation rights provided they withdraw their motion for custody.”

  Rachel feels as if she has been punched in the gut. She stands up from the sofa and screams, “No! You cannot play games with our lives! Not with my baby’s life!”

  “We have nothing to oppose visitation. They presented a compelling case. I don’t want to lead you on and you end up paying me a lot of money. Not when I can see already where the magistrate is leaning.”

  “I don’t care about paying money,” screams Rachel. “I don’t want my child to have anything to do with that rapist.”

  Urbaniak holds Rachel in her arms, and pleads with her to be reasonable for the sake of the child.

  “It’s a good thing for the child that Jason wants to take financial responsibility. It is in the interests of the child. It’s a good thing for you too, Rachel. You’ll be released from financial burden. We can go on with the case, but at the end of it all the magistrate will grant him some parenting rights.”

  “No! No! No!” says Rachel stamping her foot on the floorboards.

  “Calm down and listen,” says Urbaniak. “I’m trying to help you here. Work with me!”

  “That man raped me. He will not be rewarded with any paternity rights over my child,” says Rachel emphasising each syllable.

  The laws of the state of Ohio do not expressly deny rapists parenting rights, Urbaniak explains once more. “We don’t live in Michigan or fifteen other states that have laws in place that prohibit rapists from exercising visitation and custody rights over their rape-conceived children.”

  “Well, I’m gonna live in Michigan then,” says Rachel impetuously. “I’m gonna take my baby and move to Michigan.”

  Nana Moira breaks out cackling. The other two women look at her as if she is crazy.

  “You can’t go to Michigan,” says Nana Moira, still laughing. “Them elders in black suits, the folk of Genesis and Revelation, live in Michigan. They gonna get you there.”

  “I’m gonna move somewhere else where they’ve got proper laws to protect me and my baby,” says Rachel with finality.

  This new thought brings some tranquillity to her.

  “You say fifteen states? Which are the others besides Michigan?” she asks.

  The lawyer says she does not know off-hand. She vaguely remembers that one of them is Louisiana. Perhaps California. She can quickly check for her in some of her old files, although she doesn’t understand what Rachel wants with that kind of information. It’s not going to help her in this present case. She calls the paralegal manning the reception desk and instructs her to look for a file of another case that she handled a year ago. It takes quite some time for the paralegal to locate the file. In the meantime Urbaniak continues her attempt to dissuade Rachel.

  “Just talk sense into her, will you?” she says to Nana Moira. “It’s for the good of the baby. Her attitude doesn’t help anyone. Jason does seem a nice guy who cares for his child. I know many unmarried men who want to escape their responsibilities as fathers.”

  Rachel will not let her calm be destroyed by the lawyer’s reckless remark about Jason’s niceness.

  The paralegal finally finds the file. She does not return to the reception desk but stands there as Urbaniak pages through it.

  “Ah, your Michigan is out of the question anyway,” she says. “Michigan is one of the ten states that require criminal conviction of the rapist before termination of his parental rights. Jason was only convicted of a first degree misdemeanour assault.”

  She pages through the file again and finds the document she is looking for.

  “There are only six states in which conviction is not explicitly required for the termination of a rapist’s parental rights. Idaho is one of them. There is also South Dakota, Wisconsin, Oklahoma and Missouri. Louisiana too. For instance, the Louisiana Civil Code 137 of 2008 reads: In a proceeding in which visitation of a child is being sought by a natural parent, if the child was conceived through the commission of a felony rape, the natural parent who committed the felony rape shall be denied visitation rights and contact with the child. See? It says nothing about conviction.”

  “But does ‘felony rape’ not imply conviction?” asks the paralegal.

  “It may imply it,” says Urbaniak. “Maybe that’s what the legislator had in mind too. But it does not expressly say it. You know we take advantage of loopholes all the time.”

  The paralegal looks puzzled.

  “How do you establish felony rape without conviction?”

  Urbaniak smiles. She apologises to her clients; she has to explain to her paralegal because she is always eager to learn. Urbaniak likes that in her.

  “Go ahead and explain,” says Rachel. “I’m curious too.”

  “Let me give you an example,” says Urbaniak. “A man is charged of raping a woman. The state must prove beyond all reasonable doubt that he is guilty of the crime. If there is doubt there is no conviction. In Rachel’s case from what I hear there was a lot of doubt.”

  “Because Jason lied,” yells Rachel.

  “Well, people lie in court all the time. Okay, so the man walks free. The woman initiates a civil case against the man for specified damages for rape. In a civil court the standard is different. She doesn’t have to prove beyond a rea
sonable doubt. The proof now is by preponderance of the evidence, which is a much lower standard. All she needs is clear and convincing evidence and the jury finds in her favour. Rape victims have been known to seek remedy through civil action when criminal action failed to convict. This does not happen only in instances of rape. All crimes, including murder. That’s why OJ was found not guilty of murder, and yet in a civil case was found responsible for the wrongful death of the victims and ordered to pay damages worth millions. So, you see, it is not only through conviction that rape can be established. A civil court can establish rape.”

  “That makes sense,” says the paralegal. “The Louisiana statute would apply even in cases where there has never been any trial at all, criminal or civil, but the rapist confessed to his crime.”

  “Exactly,” says Urbaniak, much pleased with her protégée.

  “I should have done the civil case thing then?” asks Rachel.

  “Maybe. I don’t know the details of the rape case.”

  Urbaniak studies her two clients. Nana Moira has a puzzled look. Rachel’s eyes, on the other hand, are bright and determined.

  “So, Rachel, are we now going to be fugitives in Louisiana?”

  Urbaniak thinks she is joking. She believes the idea is so outlandish even a scatterbrain like Rachel would not give it a second thought. But to the lawyer’s surprise Rachel says, “Yep! Me and Blue, we gonna be fugitives.”

  “Of course, you’re kidding,” says Urbaniak.

  “For real,” says Rachel, now really excited. “Me and Blue are going to Louisiana.”

  “That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard,” says Urbaniak. “If you don’t show in court Jason will get judgment against you. He will get everything he wants.”

  “He will get nothing. I’ll be gone by then.”

  “How would they enforce that judgment?” asks the paralegal.

  “Jason would have to ask the court in the jurisdiction where the child resides to issue an order enforcing our court’s judgment.”

  “And of course another court battle would ensue,” says the paralegal. She is as excited by the prospect as if this is her own battle and indeed things will unfold as they are outlining them here. “You may be lucky. The man may not have enough money to go on with this fight in another state.”

  “Don’t encourage her,” says Urbaniak looking sharply at the paralegal.

  “Oh, yeah, I will fight that case. In Louisiana I stand a chance,” says Rachel.

  “I don’t want to hear any more of this. In fact, I didn’t hear any of it. I’m an officer of the court, remember? I gave you information because you asked for it as my client. I’ve no idea what you want to do with it. Let’s end it right there.”

  She ushers the two women out of her office.

  “I’ll see you in court next week.”

  There is shouting and yelling at the Boucher home. The voices are so loud that even Skye can hear them on the dirt road. At one point he is tempted to rush into the house and intervene. But he is wary lest the women turn on him.

  At first the quarrel is about whether Rachel and Blue must or must not be fugitives. Nana Moira is opposed to the idea. It is cowardice. They should face the trial right up to the end. But Rachel is adamant. She wants to go to a state that protects raped women and their rape-conceived babies. And Louisiana, according to what Urbaniak told them, will afford her and Blue the most protection.

  Blue is sitting on the sofa watching cartoons on television. He holds the Amish doll tightly. When the quarrel becomes too loud he raises the volume so his cartoons compete with the women. When the women calm down a bit he lowers the volume.

  All of Nana Moira’s yelling and cajoling and begging fail to convince Rachel. Now Nana Moira says she is leaving for Louisiana too. She will not let Rachel go out into the wilderness alone.

  “I’m not going to the wilderness,” says Rachel. “I’m going to Louisiana.”

  “And what are you gonna do there?”

  “Don’t know. Sing. Busk. Tell tall tales like my pops.”

  “And who’s gonna look after Blue whilst you do all that?”

  “Me. Daycare. HeadStart.”

  “I’m coming too. Somebody gotta make sure you and the tyke eat well and are taken care of. That’s my job as your grandma.”

  “What about the Centre?” says Rachel. “Many people depend on you in Jensen.”

  “Been doing stuff for everyone. Time I did it for one of my own.”

  Rachel gives a last-ditch wail and throws a tantrum that could compete with Blue’s best performance any day.

  “I don’t want you there, Nana Moira. You carry too much of the past with you.”

  “Well, the past is coming along. The past is gonna follow you till you’re done dead and buried.”

  Indeed it has followed her, Nana Moira says, eyes gleaming as if with glee. It has followed Nana Moira too. If Rachel must break with the past, Nana Moira wants to be there to help her do it. Nana Moira herself must face some of that past. She kept quiet for a long time, and the past continued to eat her innards. She failed to protect Rachel when she was a tyke, she will not fail her again. She will protect her whether she likes it or not. She will follow her to the ends of the earth to protect her.

  Rachel stares at her grandma. She is trying to understand what in the world she is on about.

  “It’s about you and your pops,” says Nana Moira. “I once found him doing things to you.”

  Nana Moira cannot bring herself to say exactly what the man was doing. He was touching the toddler in ways that were shameful, using his fingers and his tongue on her parts. When Nana Moira confronted him, he said he was merely playing with the child, tickling her to make her laugh. Indeed at first he tickled the child, and the child laughed. But he had gone further than that, and Nana Moira saw it all. She was standing at the bedroom door, the very bedroom Rachel now uses as her own. He didn’t know she was there. She warned him to stop or she would set the law on him. He promised he would. But she suspected that given the opportunity he would do it again. It obviously was not the first time, and maybe it was not the last, though she watched him like a hawk. She did not say anything to anyone.

  Rachel knew all along something wrong happened in her relationship with her pops. Though she couldn’t put her finger on it she had some inkling that whatever it was she was to blame.

  “And you kept quiet about it, Nana Moira. You protected your son at my expense?”

  “I protected you too. Sweet Jesus knows I protected you too.”

  “Don’t tell me about Jesus, Nana Moira. You know nothing about Jesus.”

  “I wanted to tell you when you was old enough,” says Nana Moira beginning to weep. “It was difficult for words to come out of my mouth. How do you begin to tell something like that? I told the counsellor. She said I must tell you, but words wouldn’t come out.”

  “Everybody knew except me,” says Rachel laughing. But there is no mirth in her laughter. It is dry and mocking.

  “Only me and the counsellor.”

  “Know what? I love you, Nana Moira. I love Pops too. I love everybody.”

  Another bout of calmness envelops Rachel. She is no longer the woman who was yelling at Nana Moira and throwing a fit. She reaches for Blue and holds him in a tight embrace. Blue, on the other hand, is holding the Amish doll in a tight embrace.

  “Pops made me a strange child,” Rachel whispers. “People said I was a strange child. No one is gonna make Blue a strange child.”

  “Nothing strange about you. Different, yeah, but not strange.”

  A tear rolls down Rachel’s face and hangs on her chin. But she is smiling.

  “Maybe it’s a good thing Desert Storm took him,” says Rachel, her voice cracking.

  “You can’t say that about your own father,” says Nana Moira.

  “I can say it, Nana Moira. And I’ve said it.”

  Nana Moira breathes a sigh of relief. She feels liberated. Plus Rachel did
not break down, did not explode, did not accuse her of betrayal. Rachel just sits there with a serene expression on her face. It is unsettling to Nana Moira, but it is better than breaking down.

  Rachel gently disentangles Blue’s arms and takes the Amish doll. She stands up and gets kerosene from the lamp and a lighter from the kitchen.

  “What you gonna do with my doll, Mummy?” Blue asks as he follows his mother to the deck outside.

  As soon as Skye sees Rachel he blows the horn and waves at her. She ignores him. Rachel places the doll on the ground just below the deck and pours kerosene over it. She sets it alight. Nana Moira stands on the deck with a horrified look. Skye walks closer to witness what is happening. Blue is crying and beating his mother repeatedly with both hands.

  “She’s burning my doll! I want my doll,” cries Blue.

  Rachel just stands there watching the rags burn. She relishes inhaling the pungent smell. There is a beatific smile on her face reminiscent of that day she set alight the baby clothes from Genesis.

  When the doll is nothing but a smoldering black heap she walks to Skye.

  “Please go home, Skye,” she says. “You make me feel bad sitting here for all these days.”

  “That’s the idea,” says Skye. “To make you feel bad. I want you back, Rachel. I don’t care if you take me back out of pity or whatever. I just want you back.”

  “It can’t work, Skye, ’cause I don’t love you. I don’t love anyone but my Blue and my grandma.”

  “What about my sister Rain? She loves you. She’ll be disappointed to hear that you don’t love her.”

  “Don’t use Rain in this, Skye. You know exactly what I mean.”

  She walks away.

  Back in the house Rachel tells Nana Moira what she told Skye, and that he still won’t go. Nana Moira says they are left with no option but to call the law.

  “No, Nana Moira,” says Rachel. “They gonna arrest him for stalking or something. And then there will be a case and we’ll have to go to court. I’m tired of going to court.”