Something About Those Eyes

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Something About Those Eyes Page 13

by Debbie Wheeland


  Kenny loved screeching out of the parking lot, revving up his oversized engine. There was always a collection of girls hanging out at his car. I was so jealous and afraid of losing him.

  “Kenny, give me a ride in your new car,” they’d say.

  Eventually, he grew tired of me and decided to take them up on their request. Brokenhearted, I resumed my old habit of spending most of my time in my bedroom, watching out the window as girls drove up to his house. Other times I’d notice him driving up the street with someone else sitting next to him, in my place!

  A couple of weeks later I found out Kenny was planning to go to Pueblo, a town thirty minutes away, with his new girlfriend and another couple. I watched as he pulled out of his driveway and roared down the street. Sitting alone, in the dark I felt unloved and depressed. It should be me in that car with him.

  The next day at school while walking to my locker, my friend called out. “Did you hear the news? Kenny got in a wreck last night. Another car hit him. Lorraine was sitting in the front seat next to him and her face was all cut up from the windshield. She has to get plastic surgery.”

  “Did Kenny get hurt?” I asked, my heart pounding.

  “No, no, he and Bob were fine, but Bob’s date got a concussion.”

  Later I told my mom what had happened.

  “I’m so glad you and Kenny broke up, otherwise that would have been you in the front seat.”

  On Sunday, I was sitting in the living room when I heard a knock on my door. There stood my ex-boyfriend. My heart throbbed and a rush of excitement swept over me.

  He pulled me outside and looked into my eyes. “What was I thinking? I should have never broken up with you. Lorraine is so ugly! I went over there yesterday to see how she was and she had her hair pulled back. She had pimples all over her forehead. It was so gross. I want you back.”

  I had secretly hoped Kenny would come back to me. Reaching out to me he kissed me and I melted in his arms. I felt loved once again, but it would prove to be a tumultuous, summer.

  Just weeks after we got back together he broke my heart again, he had met someone new. I fell into a deep sadness. After all, I only felt alive and worthwhile when I was with him. He was my world. If he didn’t profess his undying love for me, then I felt as if I didn’t matter. Part of the summer of 1972 I walked around in a daze, feeling worthless and unloved. I’d hear rumors and gossip about my ex-boyfriend from my friends throughout the summer. Staring out my window I’d often see him speed up and down the street with some girl sitting beside him. All I wanted to do was crawl in my bed and never wake up. Although a new boy got my attention and I went out with him, I continued to focus on Kenny even comparing him to everybody else. No one could fill up that empty hole in my heart caused by his absence.

  My senior year began. Walking into first period, I realized Kenny and I were in the same class. My heart did a little pitter patter once again when I looked into those sky-blue eyes, as I watched him shake his shoulder length, chestnut hair. He stood outside the door waiting for me as my new friend Ginger and I stepped into the hallway.

  Grabbing me roughly, he pulled me towards him and looked deep into my eyes.

  “You want to go out with me again, don’t you? I’ve missed you.”

  He touched that soft spot in my heart once more and I clung to him. After kissing me passionately he turned and walked with my friend Ginger. They were both in 2nd period together. A few weeks later, I found out he was saying the same things to my new friend. She kept it a secret for a while but I heard a rumor and finally confronted her. “I can’t believe you’ve been hanging out with Kenny. You know I’m in love with him. I’ve even shown you pictures of us together.”

  “That’s not true! I have not gone out with him. You know how unhappy I’ve been since my boyfriend was killed in that accident a few weeks ago.”

  “I’m sorry about Russ, but my friends have seen you with Kenny and they wouldn’t lie to me.”

  After a few days Ginger finally admitted she had been going out with him and promised to stop. It was easy for me to confront the girls, but I would never confront the person who was really responsible, Kenny, of course. Regretfully, at the time I lived in a state of denial. When I did question him, he would just blame the other girl for coming on to him. Like the fool I was, I believed him. In the end though he ended up with Ginger for a while and once again bid me farewell.

  They broke up a few weeks later and Kenny reached out to me again. He promised to never break my heart. Would I ever learn?

  Handing me a poem, he said, “I wrote this myself.”

  Did you know that god above,

  created you for me to love?

  He picked you out from all the rest,

  Because he knew I’d love you best.

  And if I go to heaven, and find you are not there,

  I’ll write your name on the Golden Stairs.

  And if on your judgment day

  I find you went the other way,

  I’ll give the angels back their wings,

  Golden harp and other things.

  And just to prove my love is true,

  I’ll even go to hell for you.

  Immediately after I read the poem, I vowed my undying love to him. Tears of joy fell down my face. (I found out much later that he didn’t really write the poem, but by then I didn’t care.) For the next several weeks I did his homework for him, wrote fake excuses so he could skip school and cried every time he went out without me. I promised myself I would not be jealous and insecure when Kenny was out of my sight believing in his eternal love for me.

  It was not long after we got back together he began to constantly beg me to give in to his sexual demands. “Ah, come on, we’ve been going out for over two years and everybody is doing it. You know I love you and we will get married someday.”

  “No, no I can’t. I want to be a virgin when I get married.”

  I had been fighting similar sexual demands since I dated my first boyfriend when I was fourteen. Kenny finally wore me down. I was tired of fighting. Maybe I really wanted to do it. Who can remember the exact reason, but I finally gave in to Kenny’s request. Each month would be a scare until my period came. Relieved, I would pledge to him and myself, “this is the last time, and I mean it!” It never was. I truly believed his promise of a future marriage with him.

  And each month when I gave into his demands, I felt used, dirty, shameful, and guilty, but I just couldn’t say no. It was necessary for me to feel loved and I mistakenly believed that if I gave him my body he would love me and never leave me again. I thought he would stay with me and never want anyone else.

  20

  No! Please God, No!

  “Not a word from their mouth can be trusted; their heart is filled with malice.” Psalm 5:9

  A few months after we started going all the way I was convinced I had the flu because I had begun throwing up every morning. I always felt better after my trip to the bathroom and I’d head for school. Sometimes I’d even puke before it was time for work. My period was late, Must have been the flu, I thought, I had heard that threw your whole cycle off. Two weeks later, still feeling nauseous, I was filled with fear.

  “Kenny, I haven’t started my period yet. I’m afraid I might be pregnant.”

  “No, you’re not, I’m sure you will start.”

  Later that day I remembered the doctor who had given a health talk at our school a few weeks earlier. With trembling hands, I took his card from my purse and dialed his number.

  “Hello, Dr. Watson’s office. Can I help you?” The receptionist asked.

  “I think I’m pregnant. How do I take a test?” Saying the words made me feel even sicker.

  “It’s called the rabbit test. Just bring in a urine sample and we can give you the results in a few days. If the rabbit dies that means you’re pregnant.”

  “What wa
s your name?”

  Slamming down the receiver, I felt like I was going to throw up again.

  “No, no, no please God, I can’t have a baby!”

  Hours later I reached out to my sister. “Monica, I need your help. I need to take a pregnancy test. Promise you won’t tell Mom.”

  “I won’t tell her. What can I do to help?”

  “Will you and your boyfriend, pick me up from work and take me to the doctors?”

  “Of course,” Monica said.

  I knew I could trust her. After all, we often shared secrets. Early the next morning, I took a plastic cup in the bathroom with me and peed in it almost to the top, put a piece of foil over it, took it with me in Don’s car then he and my sister drove me to my job.

  After work we dropped my sample off at the doctor’s office. I wouldn’t have had the courage to do it without her.

  “Oh Miss, we don’t need the whole cup, just a few drops,” said the nurse.

  My face was red. “Oh sorry.”

  Three days later, I called the office again. “I’m sorry Miss Griswold but your sample was inconclusive. You’ll have to bring us another small sample.”

  The next day, Monica and I drove to the doctor’s office and dropped it off. Days seemed to pass in slow motion. Different thoughts raced through my head a hundred times. If I’m not pregnant I will definitely say “No” to my boyfriend and mean it. That is, it! I will be strong and start over fresh. If I’m pregnant, maybe I could go to a home for unwed mothers, have the baby, adopt it out and come back and resume my life as if nothing happened. There is no way at seventeen, a senior in high school, that I can raise a baby. But on the other hand, I’ve been taking care of my little brothers for years so maybe I should keep the baby and name him Rusty. And please God, if I am pregnant let it be a boy and look just like Kenny so he’ll love me forever. And please let him marry me! But don’t let me be pregnant!

  I was dreading calling the doctor but I finally made the call from work. I couldn’t risk doing it at home where too many people could overhear.

  “This is Debbie Griswold. I turned in a urine sample three days ago. Can you tell me if the rabbit died?” I whispered into the phone.

  “Hold, on let me get your file.”

  My heart felt like it would beat out of my chest. Seconds later the receptionist was back on the phone. “Yes, it’s positive.”

  No, no, please God no; it can’t be true! Fleeing out to the parking lot, I saw Kenny waiting to take me home. Feeling depressed and sullen, I hardly spoke a word on the drive home.

  “What’s your problem?” Kenny said sarcastically, “Did some doggies talk to you today?”

  “No, no, I got the results back today from my test and I’m pregnant.”

  “What? You told me it was negative.”

  “They wanted me to retake the test and it came back positive.”

  “Are you sure?” He asked, the blood draining from his face.

  Nodding my head, I kept my eyes towards the floor. Neither of us said a word. He stopped in front of my house and before I opened the door, he reassured me. “Don’t worry, I will marry you.”

  The weeks dragged by and several times I found myself in the bathroom feeling like I was going to vomit. Kenny hardly said anything to me as we passed one another in the hallway at school. I borrowed my mom’s car and drove to work after school. Each day I found myself more and more depressed, wondering about my future and the status of my relationship with Kenny. I continued to write long letters to him explaining my love for him.

  “Did you get my letter?” I asked later when he’d glance my way at school.

  “Yeah, but I didn’t read it. It’s in the drawer with all the others you’ve written through the years.” He said flippantly, as he walked away.

  Rumors began to surface about a sophomore named Nancy who was going out with Kenny. But I once again refused to believe them. Shortly afterwards I saw Nancy drive up to his house in her sporty, black, brand-new Camaro. I had my suspicions that this time the rumors were true and I was desperately afraid that he wouldn’t marry me.

  Days later I was standing in my room, head leaned against the windowsill staring at Kenny’s house when my mom came up behind me.

  “Debra Ann, are you pregnant?”

  “What!” I spun around. “No, no I’m not pregnant. Why would you ask me that?”

  “I noticed you have been sick lately.”

  “Oh, I’ve had the flu.” I tried to convince her.

  She shook her head, muttered something under her breath and walked out. I made sure my bedroom door was shut, collapsed on the bed and stuffed the pillow over my face and cried. I wish I could die right now. I refused to tell my mom the truth. I was pretty angry with her these days and I couldn’t stand her husband. He was controlling, mean and was always saying bad things about Kenny. I hated the way he and my mom sat in front of the television set, eating dinner and drinking their beers, while my brothers, my sister, and I had to sit silently at the dinner table. I didn’t mind that my mom and Smitty weren’t eating dinner with us, but if we so much as giggled at the table they screamed at us from the other room.

  “Shut up in there you know there is no talking or laughing allowed at the dinner table.”

  It had never been that way before she married that man. I hated him!

  Mom had rarely been nice to me since she had married that disgusting man a year earlier. None of us kids liked him. His huge beer belly just kept growing and he enforced his rules with an iron fist, while my mom stood mutely by and watched or took his side. I hated his new rule that I had to be in the house at 9:00 p.m. sharp on a Friday night. One night Kenny and I had gone on a date and we were walking up the sidewalk at 9:05. My mom’s jerk of a husband met us outside, with my mom close on his heels, carrying a can of Olympia beer. “You’re late!” He yelled.

  “It’s five after nine, I’m not late.”

  “You’re grounded,” he fired back.

  I gave him the dirtiest look I could muster and screamed, “I hate you,” as I ran into the house.

  “I hate you, too,” he screamed back.

  My mom started yelling at me, too. I was furious! I couldn’t believe she took his side. I quit listening. I just wanted to run into the safety of my bedroom. There was no way I was going to tell my mom the truth about being pregnant. Not after what she’d put us kids through.

  A few weeks later my mom walked into my room again and kindly said, “I know you’re pregnant!”

  I burst into tears this time. “How did you know?”

  “I had six of my own. Now let’s make an appointment and get you to the doctor.

  Not only was I was shocked by her reaction but I felt relieved the secret was finally out!

  After the doctor checked me he said, “You’re pretty young and you’re not too far along. Have you thought about an abortion?”

  Although abortion had just become legal that year in 1973, I couldn’t bring myself to even say the word. I didn’t want God to be disappointed in me. Even though I didn’t know exactly what abortion meant, I hesitated, but finally said, “No.”

  I was too scared to get an abortion and too scared to have a baby. I was a senior and I only had a few months before graduating. I needed to finish school. Still I had no idea what I was going to do.

  When my pants got too tight, I wore a long shirt with my zipper and snap undone.

  I began to tell my friends that Kenny didn’t care about me and that I was pregnant believing that they would keep my secret, and hoping for their sympathy. Many felt sorry for me but nobody reached out to me and nobody kept my secret. Before long, I suspected everyone at school knew and whispered about me as I walked through the hallways. Once I overheard one girl say, “Why didn’t she just take the pill?”

  My self-denial was so strong, I didn’t r
ealize until much later I didn’t take the pill because then I would have had to admit to myself that I was committing a mortal sin and I was having premarital sex.

  Unhappy at home and unhappy at school, my refuge became my job. But even there I stopped joking around with my co-workers. I only talked to my boss, a sweet, older lady who took me under her wing although I still didn’t trust her enough to share my problems with her.

  Kenny actually started hanging out with me more, but then one minute he was promising to marry me, and the next weekend he would forget about a date we had made. To make matters worse I heard that he was still interested in Nancy. In my ignorance, I still trusted him. I believed he loved me. At the time, I didn’t realize he was just coming back and forth to have sex with me, I felt like such a fool.

  One day my mom came into my room as I was looking out the window at Kenny’s front door. “Has Kenny told his parents yet?”

  “No, he said he would soon.”

  “Well it’s been four months. You’re going to graduate in less than six weeks. Don’t you think they should know?”

  “He says he’ll tell them, and I’m sure he will!”

  Kenny and my mother’s husband never got along. In fact, he hated Kenny. He and his best friend Mark wanted to beat him up, but Kenny was underage. Mark was angry with Kenny for calling his wife filthy names. So, he was just waiting for a way to get revenge on Kenny.

  A few weeks later, on the night my boyfriend turned eighteen, Smitty and Mark waited outside a club called, “Outer Limits.” It was a bar that served 3.2 beers to eighteen-year-olds. It was the legal drinking age back then. As Kenny walked out of the bar, they attacked him and gave him a black eye and bruised his ribs.

  The next day Kenny knocked on my door to tell me what had happened. My mom and her husband answered the door.

  “Your mom’s worthless husband and Mark attacked me last night,” he yelled, through the closed screen.

  Standing behind them, I noticed my boyfriend’s black eye, and began screaming , “I hate you! Let me out, let me out of here!”

 

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