A Robin Redbreast in a Cage
Page 19
August found Charlie happy and frustrated at the same time. She was happy that Jeremy Lawrence was in her life again and knowing that he was interested in her, maybe even in love with her. She was happy because she knew past all doubt she she was falling in love with him and saw in the trust and respect that were growing between them real hope for the future. Her mother’s loving support was also a constant source of personal satisfaction and emotional stability. But she was frustrated because all these bright associations with her mother and Jeremy were thrown into the shadows by the dark presence of her uncle. She did not know how to extricate herself from that man’s clutches and was ashamed of herself for her waffling, dithering, dallying, delaying and a whole thesaurus of words to describe her shameful cowardice to face that man. Intellectually there was nothing to stop her. She was long past the time when her doubts could be interpreted as a personal failure of faith instead of what they actually were: a recognition of the tunnel vision and inconsistencies of biblical inerrancy. These inconsistencies of fundamentalist religion, many of them in support of a mean-spirited, unchristian and unloving view of the world and of humanity, were only too clearly seen and understood. The insults visited upon her by the Rev. Hamlin foretold the sort of troubles that awaited her if she continued to pursue the scheme hatched by Brother Johnson and her uncle to make her something like the advertising logo of their church. The way Martha was treated was another reminder of their contempt for women. The poor girl, always quiet and obedient, had become afraid of her own shadow. The tension of living with an ignorant tyrant had caused her to grow pale and thin. If someone asked her a question, she would not speak until a nod from Tom gave her permission. She was like a prisoner of war, one who had totally surrendered her freedom and will.
In her relationship with Jeremy, Charlie had even found her old self—the kid who was assertive and not afraid to express an opinion. When they first came upon the abandoned kitten she had found herself contradicting him and arguing that they should take the kitty home. She had spoken spontaneously without thinking of the consequences, and yet Jeremy had not even noticed anything special. He regarded her as a normal human being, one who had opinions and her own. He respected her, and in respecting her he was showing her yet another way to see the possibility of becoming herself again.
So what was stopping her? Fear. While she could see a future life of freedom, what she couldn’t visualize was actually telling her uncle she was leaving his home and his church. Trying to figure out a way to confront him, she would become the prey to all sorts of terrors, and separating the real from the imagined was impossible. One of her fears was that her uncle, instead of letting her go, would hold her prisoner and wear her down by brainwashing her until she gave up. Knowing he was a man who didn’t like to be crossed, this fantasy appeared to her to be a real possibility.
Of course she could simply go to her mother’s home and never return, trusting in the protection of her mother to keep Uncle Edward away. But even an elopement with that bold lover, the secular world, came with its own terrors. She remembered the legal documents her mother had to sign and was not sure that until she was twenty-one she had any rights independent of her uncle. In this scenario she saw a scowling judge wagging his fingers at her as he upheld the law and delivered her back to her righteous uncle.
She knew she was being irrational. She knew fear was driving these visions like a runaway train in her mind. Still she hesitated. Still she waited for tomorrow.
Tomorrow came when only one week of classes remained and two more after that before she would have to return to the bible college. It was a Thursday. Jeremy drove her to Portland but was unable to bring her home because he was going to attend a lecture on European history given by a visiting professor that evening. She had planned to take the bus, but when it was mentioned at dinner last night, Tom, who with Martha was spending the evening at the Harris house in honor of Uncle Edward’s birthday, volunteered to give her a ride back to Waska. He had some business with the advertising agency that he was going to do in the morning, but could easily reschedule it for the afternoon. Charlie’s polite refusal was brushed aside, and a glance at Uncle Edward, who revealed his preference for his son-in-law over the pagans likely to be on the bus by nodding and murmuring “excellent,” told her it would be unwise to argue the point.
Tom’s behavior when he picked her up at the pre-arranged rendezvous point near Luther Bonney confirmed her instinctive wish to avoid him. The other time he drove her to Portland one of his workers was with them; this was the first time they had ever been alone together, and remembering the many times he would stare at her breasts when he was at the house, she was uneasily anticipating the likelihood of some more crude remarks. She didn’t have to wait, for she saw him leering at her breasts as she got into the seat of the expensive German car and then watch her readjust her skirt as she settled in. With his belly so fat it was almost touching the steering wheel, he was even more repulsive than usual. “You’re looking good today,” he said in a salacious way that he didn’t try to hide.
“Thank you,” she said coldly, hoping her tone would send a message and they would talk as little as possible during the trip. Temporarily he was quiet as the thick city traffic demanded his attention. He was an impatient, angry driver, frequently tapping the steering wheel and muttering “Come on, come on, move it” when cars in front were slow to recognize a green light and glaring at drivers who cut in front of him.
At the bridge he took Route 1. Feeling uneasy, she asked, “Why aren’t you taking the Interstate? It’s quicker.”
He accelerated and passed several cars. “It’s better this way. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” Though he spoke with his usual arrogant condescension, he seemed nervous now as if unsure how to broach some topic he had in mind.
When she shifted her weight to be more comfortable, what he had in mind became clear.
“Is your bra too tight?”
She didn’t answer.
“False modesty will get you nowhere. If it’s tight, go ahead and loosen it. I don’t mind.”
“There’s nothing wrong.”
He leered at her, his eyes scanning her breasts. “I should have asked for you. Those are real beauties. Martha is flat compared to you.”
He was making her feel sick to her stomach. She decided she wouldn’t speak to him as long he continued making lewd and disgusting observations.
“She’s no good in bed either, just lies there.”
That was too much. Immediately her vow of silence was thrown out the window. She turned and spoke sharply. “I don’t want to hear about that. Stop it!”
“Don’t be so high and mighty, missy. I know you went to that Jeremy Lawrence’s house for a quickie last month.”
She felt her face go crimson as simultaneously an electric current jolted her backbone. She knew he was referring to the time they brought Tiger home. Someone in the Nasons’ house must have seen them. She remembered that Ted Nason, the father, had become friendly with Tom, but why would he tell Tom and not Uncle Edward if there was any telling to do? Confused, she said nothing.
At a red light he turned and grinned triumphantly. “Cat got your tongue?” Then, feeling emboldened by her look of confusion, he reached over and put his hand on her breast and squeezed it.
That had the effect of waking her to the present danger instantly. She slapped his hand away. “Stop it! You’re being a pig.”
“Don’t call me a pig, you whore. Did you take him in your mouth? I want to hear all about it.”
“Stop it,” she repeated. When the only effect of her words was his hand dropping to her inner thigh and trying to knead it through her skirt, she tried threatening. She pushed him away, finding him surprisingly weak. “Stop it or my uncle will hear about this.”
The car was moving now. “That’s where you’re wrong. If he heard about it, he’d also find out you were fucking that boy. You don’t want that now, do you? You a whore and the daughter of a whore
.”
She glared at him. “You’re disgusting. Do you actually think you can blackmail me? We were bringing an abandoned kitty home, that’s all.”
“Likely story,” he said as he slowed down and passed a car turning left. “I can read a woman. I know when she wants it.”
“And you’re a Christian? It’s a sin to commit adultery. It’s one of the Ten Commandments.”
He said nothing and she knew why—because it meant nothing to him. He was saved. He didn’t have rules. She thought of Rev. Hamlin. Alone with her, he probably would do the same thing as Tom, such being the moral perversion of this religion they shared.
His hand sought her out even as his eyes followed the curve of the road. She slapped it away, but he wouldn’t stop.
“There’s a motel about half a mile ahead. We can stop there for a quickie. You cooperate, and your uncle will know nothing about that boy and you.”
Clearly this was what he planned all the time. It had probably been born in his perverse mind the moment he volunteered to give her a ride last night. She remembered he had leered at her while Uncle Edward was acquiescing to his suggestion. Ahead a yellow light showed they were about to stop. Quickly she weighed the possibilities and just as quickly decided this was her only chance to escape. She reached for her backpack. Even before the car came to a complete stop, with a sudden motion she release her seatbelt, opened the door and leaped out of the car, then darted across the right lane, causing a driver approaching from behind them to have to slam on his breaks.
Tom opened his window. “Get back in the car!” he yelled angrily.
She saw an old man in the gas station watching her with a troubled look. He was very thin, even frail, but he was dressed neatly, was clean-shaven and behind his thick glasses his eyes gave him a kindly grandfatherly air. She ran up to him.
“Are you all right, young lady.”
She felt embarrassed and relieved at the same time. “He’s a horrible man.”
“You know him?”
She nodded. “I wish I didn’t.”
She saw Tom glaring at her, but when the light changed he went through the intersection. She watched to see if he turned around, but he kept going.
“What can I do to help, young lady? Do you want to call the police?”
“No,” she said emphatically, then felt embarrassed. More calmly, she explained, “Unfortunately he’s married to my cousin. But could I use your phone?”
It was in the cluttered office of the gas station. A man repairing a car engine in the garage looked up expectantly through the open door, but the old man followed her in and said, “It’s okay, Frank. She’s using the phone.”
She searched through her backpack for the phone number Jeremy had given her when they first started driving to the university together. Unsuccessful at first, she started panicking before she remembered it was written on a bookmark in her pocketbook. Taking a deep breath, she dialed the number.
He answered on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Jeremy, it’s me, Charlie. I need your help.”
“What’s wrong!?” It wasn’t a good connection, but still she could hear the panic in his voice.
“Tom Johnson tried to assault me.” She saw the old man look at her, then politely turn away.
“You mean…?”
“Yes, that. I jumped out of the car. I’m at that station with the three flags—you know, U.S., Maine, and New England Patriots.”
“Yes, I know where that is. Right before the light on Route 1, right?”
“Yes. Could you come get me? Tom drove off but I’m scared he might come back.”
“I’ll be there as soon as possible. Are you sure you’re safe there? You can trust the man there, can you?”
“Yes, yes. He’s very nice.”
“Okay, I’ll see you very soon.”
“Thanks, Jeremy. Bye.”
The old man looked up from a bunch of credit card receipts he was organizing, or perhaps pretending to organize, and said, “I couldn’t help overhear parts of your conversation. Don’t worry, you’ll be safe here until your boyfriend comes for you. Where is he coming from?”
“Portland.” She thought about the lie of omission in not correcting the man’s designation of Jeremy as her boyfriend because it would require a long explanation, then, remembering the concern Jeremy’s panic revealed, decided it wasn’t that much of a lie.
A bell rang, startling her before she realized it was a car pulling up to the pumps for gas. “He should be here soon,” the old man said as he was going out the door.
She looked around. A board with hooks for keys on the back wall had seven sets. The calendar next to it showed a buxom woman in a bikini. The door to an inner room was partially opened and revealed what appeared to be a storage closet. Three chairs with worn plastic seats and even a few tears that revealed gray stuffing were lined up across from the counter that had a cash register and credit card machine along with a basket with what appeared to be invoices. There was a pile of magazines on one of the chairs, and she decided to sit down and try to read. The magazines were of no interest, however, Popular Mechanics, Car and Driver and the like. She sat and watched the old man who was talking animatedly with the driver of the car. She could see a wife in the front seat and two children in the back. Probably they were tourists, and probably they were asking for directions. Disjointed thoughts passed through her mind, all of them felt, none of them analyzed. The thought of Tom’s hand grabbing at her breast revolted her. Poor Martha married to that cretin. The moral hollowness of thinking because you’re saved you could do anything you wanted. Her uncle, responsible for inculcating those ideas, also disgusted her. Jeremy’s panic, his love. She was sure he loved her. He might be driving too fast right now. Be careful, Jeremy. She mouthed the words. Her mother would be even more angry with her brother. She wouldn’t be surprised when she heard the news.
The old man came back into the office. As he processed the credit card, he said, “Those folks are from Oregon. They’ve just come from a week at Acadia National Park and Baxter State Park. They think Maine is beautiful.”
“Yes, a lot of people say that, don’t they.”
“Have you ever been to Acadia or Baxter?”
She shook her head. “No, I’ve never been further north than Portland.”
“Well,” the old man said on his way out the door to service two cars that pulled up to the gas pumps, “you have something to look forward to.”
His remark started her thinking about what she had to look forward to. At some point in the car with Tom fending off his physical and verbal assaults, the decision had been made seemingly without quite consciously formulating it in words that this was the event that freed her from any obligation to her uncle and his church. She already knew she was going to ask Jeremy to drive her to her mother’s apartment. She had found the courage to face her uncle now and tell him to his face that she was leaving. And after that…freedom. The thought of it made her giddy as she started daydreaming about what her life with Jeremy would be like now. She could become a normal girl, going where she wanted, doing what she wanted, even making love to Jeremy if she wanted. It seemed almost impossible. To acclimate herself to freedom, she started enumerating possibilities. She could wear shorts. She could play soccer again. She could go out of the house without asking permission. She could choose her own clothes. She could read any book she wanted, see any movie. She could study what she wanted.
At that point she stopped enumerating things. What would she study if she chose for herself? It was another way of asking what would she do if she could choose her career for herself. She loved literature. She liked teaching when she helped Mrs. Pogue at the day school. Maybe she could be a teacher in grade school, she thought, since she loved children. Or maybe like Jeremy, she could be a professor and teach English to young adults. And what about religion, another voice inside asked. She still loved Jesus. What church would she go to? Maybe none. She remembered Ted�
�s remark about God wanting us to be good people with good hearts being enough. Maybe it was.
But she couldn’t decide all these things now. Calmer now and gaining perspective, she was surprised to find she felt strong and confident and optimistic. Events would enfold and things made known. For that she was ready.
As time passed and Jeremy was taking longer than she expected, she became nervous again, nervous and less optimistic. Unable to sit still, she stood by the door watching traffic coming from Portland. The moment she saw his car, she rushed outside.
He saw her and drove right up to where she was standing, jumped out of the car and rushed up to the office door.
They both felt the urge to embrace but the old man’s presence inhibited them. As a compromise, he took both of her hands in his and looked into her eyes. “Are you all right?”
“I’m feeling calmer now.” She squeezed his hands tightly, drawing strength from him. She felt totally safe now.
“Have you called your mom?”
“Not yet. When we get into the car I’ll call her if I can use your cellphone.”
“Is that where you want to go, to your mom’s house?”
“Yes.”
“Good, that means you’re leaving—”
“Yes, my uncle’s house and the church. Even if I wanted to stay, which I don’t, it would be impossible now.”
“Good. I’m glad,” he said, and she knew why.
She turned and thanked the old man, feeling Jeremy’s hand on her lower back. “Thank you for everything. I really appreciate your kindness.”
The old man modestly waved her off. “I have three daughters, grown now, but I understand. I was glad to help.”
In the car she called her mother at work and briefly explained what happened. When her mother anxiously asked how she felt, she glanced at Jeremy and said, “Now that Jeremy is here, I’m all right.” Then her mother spoke to someone in her office for a minute. Back on line she said she would get out of work a half hour early and should be home soon after she and Jeremy arrived.
Hanging up, she told Jeremy of her mother’s plan.
“Good,” he said, then looked at her for a moment before his eyes returned to the road.
“I’m sorry you have to miss that lecture.”
He seemed almost insulted that she could think that mattered. “I don’t care about that. What’s important is that you’re safe. Did that man, uh, you know, physically attack you?”
“He tried. I slapped his hand away. Mostly he tried to blackmail me.”
“Blackmail? How’s that?”
She hesitated for a second, thinking she would be embarrassed, but found she wasn’t. “That neighbor of yours in the church saw us when we brought Tiger home. He seems to have have told Tom about it, and he accused us of—you know.”
She stole a glance at him and saw him color. He drove in silence for a while thinking. “I see,” he finally said, “cooperate with me or I’ll tell your uncle?”
“Exactly.”
“What a dirtball he must be.”
“Yes.”
Again they lapsed into silence for some time. She found herself thinking about what Tom had accused her of doing with Jeremy, and she suspected he was thinking the same thing.
“What do you think he’ll do now?”
“I’m sure he’ll lie to my uncle.”
That wasn’t the answer he seemed to expect. Puzzled, he asked, “What do you mean?”
“I bet he’ll say I tried to seduce him. My uncle and the church in general think women are, you know, she-devils and temptresses.”
“Do you think your uncle will believe him?”
“Probably. But my aunt won’t.”
“You’re definitely going to leave your uncle’s church now, aren’t you?”
She knew he repeated the question because it was so important to him. “Yes, I am. I’ve already left it, really. I’ve been trying to escape all summer but just couldn’t find a way to face my uncle and tell him to his face.”
“I understand. He’s a scary man. But now he can’t make any claim on you.”
“I know.”
They conjectured more about her uncle’s reaction and how she would respond as they drove the rest of the way to Waska. She told Jeremy she was ashamed of her inability to face her uncle, saying she should have left the church after Rev. Hamlin’s tawdry treatment of her last Easter. She tried to make Jeremy understand that it was important for her to face her uncle and recover her self-respect, but he said she was being too hard on herself. “Having met him,” he said, “I know he can be scary.”
Alone in the apartment, she could tell Jeremy felt awkward. He remarked about how nice her mom’s furniture was just to have something to say. Like her he was distracted, and she was sure it was for the same reason she was. The embrace that hadn’t happened before the old man’s eyes now had nothing to stop it except their mutual shyness. She knew that to have the strength to face her uncle she needed to feel Jeremy’s love and support. She needed a physical confirmation of his feelings for her.
“Jeremy,” she said softly, watching him slide his hand across the dining room table.
He turned and looked at her. When, speaking as softly as she had in whispering his name, he said, “I’m sorry this had to happen to you. You deserve nothing but the best,” she appealed to him with her eyes across the four a five feet separating them.
He understood. For a moment they stood facing one another with only their eyes locked in an embrace, but when he took one tentative step towards her that was all she needed. She flew into his arms. For a long time they clasped one another tightly. It was the most wonderful, most delicious feeling in the world. Then came a kiss, the first kiss she had ever shared with a boy, and it thrilled her from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. She felt flushed all over as her excited blood throbbed through her body. Kiss after passionate kiss followed. She had vaguely feared that with her only sexual experiences so vicarious and unpleasant that she had been forced to have to fend off unwanted advances, she might be psychologically damaged somehow, but the feelings coursing through her body told her that was a misapprehension of love’s reality. She was quite sure that if her mother wasn’t expected momentarily, they would have had sex. She was certainly ready and knew he was too. She could feel him pressed close to her.
“I love you,” he murmured into her ear.
“I love you too, Jeremy,” she said, and they kissed again, a long lingering kiss. “My mother will be home pretty soon. We—”
“I know,” he said. “I think we’re both pretty hot and should cool down.”
They went into the kitchen and sat across from each other at the small table, looking into each others’ loving eyes and holding both of their hands in each other’s across the table.
“Finding you this summer has been the joy of my life, Charlie.”
“I feel the same, Jeremy.”
“I love you, Charlie. I have for years, I think. There was always something special about you that made every other girl uninteresting.”
“I know because I’ve had the same feeling and I love you too. Ever since ever.”
“We can be together now.”
She squeezed his hands. “I know. I want to always be together with you.” Then they stretched across the table and sealed their vows of love with another kiss.
Soon after that kiss and more expressions of love that she knew she would never tire of hearing, her mother arrived.
They stood and moved into the living room.
Tris was stylishly dressed in a royal blue short skirt that showed off her shapely legs and a tight yellow blouse that displayed her large breasts. Her hair was cut short now but still framed her pretty face and accented her eyes. Charlie could see that Jeremy was impressed with how beautiful and sexy she was and saw that her mom was in turn taken with Jeremy, dressed casually in jeans and a red T-shirt with Bucky Badger blazoned across the chest. She seemed to noti
ce something was in the air, probably seeing in his big blue eyes, his most striking feature, the love he felt for Charlie.
Her mother stopped, seemed surprised, and then looked at Charlie.
“Mom, this is Jeremy.”
“Pleased she meet you, Jeremy. Charlie has often spoken of you. But Charlie,” she said, turning and opening her arms for an embrace, “how are you doing.”
Enveloped in her mother’s loving arms and feeeling her love as another shield in her coming battle with her uncle, Charlie said, “I’m okay now. Really,” she added when her mother, still holding her drew back and gave her daughter a quizzical look.
A slight smile broke across her face and widened into a grin. “I expected to find a traumatized daughter and instead find two happy and contented young people. Can you explain to me what’s going on?”
Charlie looked at Jeremy, who mouthed the words “No secret.”
“I was traumatized, but now Jeremy and I are—”
“In love,” he interrupted.
“I thought so. I thought the way you both were acting was telling me that. I remember the way you talked about Jeremy made me think that you had feelings for him.” She turned and regarded Jeremy. “But I didn’t know that you felt the same way.”
“I’ve loved Charlie for a long time.”
“It must be great to be young and resilient,” she said, still with a pleased smile on her face.
“You still look young, Mrs. McNaughton,” Jeremy gallantly said.
She smiled in appreciation of the compliment. “Call me Tris. I have a feeling I’m going to see a lot of you in the future. But let’s sit down. I have a million questions.”
The two lovers sat side by side on the couch while Tris took the recliner that faced them. She asked if they would like something to drink, coke, tea or coffee, but both declined.
“Okay, Charlie, tell me everything that happened so I have a clear idea of where we stand with my miserable brother. What did that Tom what’s-his-name do exactly?”
“He pawed me, grabbed my breast, used vile language and four letter words and called me a whore. When I kept telling him to stop he then tried blackmail. His friend Ted Nason or his wife must have seen us when we brought the kitten to Jeremy’s house and thought we were there illicitly. He said there was a motel a half mile ahead and that if I cooperated Uncle Edward would never hear of it. When the car slowed down at a red light, I jumped out and ran into the gas station where Jeremy picked me up.”
“Wow! That was a brave thing to do. I’m impressed. And that husband of Martha’s, he’s real piece of work. Charlie, obviously after this you’re not going back to Edward’s house, right?”
“No, I want to live here with you.”
“That’s what I’ve been dreaming about ever since I stopped drinking. I’m very happy, even happy this happened since I’ve got my daughter back. I guess we could say some good has come out of this evil.”
Then unable to contain herself, she leaped up, pulled Charlie to her feet and embraced her in a long, loving hug different from Jeremy’s but nice in a different way that made her realize the two people in the world who loved her best were here in this room with her.
Tris sat down. “What do you think Edward will do?”
“Charlie has a definite theory about that,” Jeremy said.
Tris looked at her, her eyebrows raised.
“Tom’s going to lie. He’s going to say I tried to seduce him. He probably already has told Uncle Edward that or soon will.
Her mother nodded in agreement. She knew her brother. “He’ll believe it too. Then he’ll want to punish you.”
“How can he do that?” Jeremy asked.
“Well, he can’t now. He doesn’t know Charlie has flown the coop. Right now he doesn’t know he has no control over her. Charlie, what do you want to do and when?”
“I want to get it over with. I want to get my stuff, my clothes, mementoes like the award for being the best player in the eighth-grade soccer tournament, my clothes.”
“You played soccer?” Jeremy asked. He didn’t seem to know anything about her earlier years, but then she didn’t know him until high school either.
“Charlie was very athletic when she was a girl. She’d have played softball and soccer at C.A. if…if she’d been with me.”
“Do you want me to call him?” Tris asked, getting back to the business at hand.
“I was thinking after supper would be a good time.”
“Okay, we’ll make it an early supper, though.” Her mother must have been reading her mind, for then she turned to Jeremy and asked him if he would like to join them for the evening meal.
“Yes, thank you. I would,” he said too emphatically, showing that he had hoping for the invitation.
They all turned at the sound of the creaking front door opening on the first floor. “That’ll be Ted,” Tris said. “He’s going to be surprised.”
“Will there be enough food for four?” Jeremy asked. He looked worried.
“Ted was going to make enough to have leftovers. There’s a microwave at the place where he’s working now. But don’t worry. He’ll be glad to forego that. There’ll be plenty of food.”
Ted came through the door carrying his lunch pail and wearing khaki workpants and a grimy T-shirt that showed he had put in a hard day’s work under the hot summer sun. He started to say something but stopped abruptly when he saw Tris was not alone. His bright blue eyes, as with Jeremy his best feature, only momentarily registered surprise. “Well, hello to you, handsome young man. I’m guessing you must be Charlie’s friend Jeremy.”
“I am,” Jeremy said, standing. They shook hands.
“Charlie’s leaving Edward’s house and the church,” Tris said.
“I’m pleased to hear that. Welcome home, a real home. I’d give you a hug, but right now I’m not fit to embrace a princess like you.”
“Thank you, Ted. Thank you for making me feel welcome.”
He smiled, then winced.
“Hard day, honey?”
“Yup. We had to redo a wall because the floor was not stable. Had to redo the floor too, I should add. Strained my back pulling at a stubborn stud. Heat reminded me of the desert. Aside from that pretty routine day. But I’m guessing there’s some reason Charlie left her uncle’s. What happened?”
When her mother explained, Ted raised his eyebrows and emitted a low whistle. “This is the guy who just got married a month and a half ago? Whew!”
Remembering what Tom had said about Martha in bed, Charlie felt a stab of pain, which she was glad no one noticed. Ted made his way to the kitchen where he rinsed out his thermos and put his lunch pail away. The others followed.
“Supposedly he’s a good Christian and a leader in the church,” Tris said.
“Hypocrites come in every stripe. The worst is the religious hypocrite. At least we expect politicians to be hypocrites. But I’d better hit the shower before supper.”
While he showered, at Tris’s suggestion the other three went into the kitchen to get the meal started. They took turns cooking, but with the object being an early supper so that they could be ready for Uncle Edward if he called, doing the prep work would save time. While Charlie and Jeremy chopped onions, carrots, green pepper and mushrooms, Tris started the rice and made a sauce with ginger, sesame oil, cayenne and soy sauce.
While Ted, returned from his shower and much refreshed, stirfried the chicken and vegetables and during the meal, the topic of conversation was mostly conjecturing about how the day’s incident would turn out in the coming confrontation with Uncle Edward. A few times when they wandered from that topic (which understandably obsessed them all), Charlie saw that Jeremey related well to her mother and foster father.
What got them going was Ted spilling his apple juice half-way through the meal. His elbow accidentally hit his glass when he reached over for the soy sauce. “Oops,” he said, “there I go again.”
While Tris grabbed her nap
kin and sopped up the liquid, she and Charlie laughed, but Jeremy looked mystified.
“He did the same thing at their wedding in June,” Charlie explained.
“Only then,” Tris said, “it was when Mike, his son, had just given the toast to the bride and groom. Ted reaching for his glass hit my elbow and made me spill half my grape juice on my lap.”
“But,” Charlie said, picking up the narrative, “Ted recovered himself quite well.”
“What did you say?” Jeremy asked.
“I said I was just christening my new wife like a new ship. It got a big laugh.”
Everyone, including Jeremy, laughed again. “You’re quick on your feet, I see,” he said.
“You have to be when you’re a clumsy idiot.”
Soon after that anecdote had lightened the mood, Ted asked Jeremy a question that momentarily caused him to be nonplussed. “So, Jeremy, I hear you’re an anti-war activist at the University of Wisconsin.”
The question made Jeremy nervous. He knew Ted was a veteran of the first gulf war, but Charlie was not sure she had ever told him that he also hated the Iraqi war. Bravely he admitted he was. She remembered his telling her of the moral and ethical reasons he opposed the Bush administration and was proud of him for not trying to hide it. “It’s a war based on lies by an administration that is dishonorable and evil. I feel I have no choice but to to my small bit to try to stop it.”
Ted noticed his tension and laughed good-humoredly. “Don’t worry, I’ve been in war and wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I’m glad you’re trying to stop that damn thing. I can tell you as an ex-soldier that the best way to support the troops is to get them out of danger.”
“I’m sure Edward is a big Bush supporter,” her mother said.
“He loves Bush,” Charlie said.
Even in this context, Tris bristled at having the word “love” in any way associated with her brother. “Are you sure? I think he only really loves himself. He’s a hater, not a lover. He hates Moslems.”
“And Christians too,” Jeremy said. “Doesn’t he only like funda-mentalists?”
Ted, having finished his chicken and rice dish, interjected a bit of historical perspective. “I was reading a book on Napoleon last winter. The French people loved him to distraction, at least while they were on the way up and conquering countries.”
“It’s the same with Hitler and Bush,” Jeremy said.
“Hmm. Do you think Napoleon was a great man? Ted asked.
“I’m not sure. Like a lot of leaders, he was an egomaniac. But he was a brilliant general.”
“Or was it,” Ted said with a twinkle in his eye, “that the generals he faced were boobies?”
Jeremy saw the bemused expression on Ted’s face and smiled. “What are you getting at?”
“I’ve been reading a book on the Iraqi war, though I’ve been so busy lately I haven’t had much time for reading. But those generals we have over there are incompetent and ignorant. They’re desk jockeys and pols, you know what I mean?”
“I do. We’re a long ways from Alexander the Great actually leading troops. Like those nincompoop generals in World War I who sat miles behind the front lines and ordered tens of thousands of men to their death.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. The biggest danger they face is a fly falling into and ruining their soup.”
“So you have an interest in history, Ted?”
“I do. Maybe one day you’ll find me sitting in on one of your classes when you’re a professor. Of course by then I may be in my dotage. Or maybe I am already?”
“Oh no, you talk very intelligently about history. I know I could learn a lot from your perspective.”
That made Ted smile with pleasure.
The relaxed and pleasant atmosphere continued through the dessert of ice cream and strawberries, then shattered instantly when the phone rang. Its grating and loud clang sent waves of nervous tension through Charlie’s backbone and settled in her stomach a heavy weight. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to finish her ice cream, she put her spoon down. Tris looked at her, her drawn face likewise betraying her nervousness. She rose, saying “Well, here it goes” as she walked quickly to the wall phone in the kitchen. Her hand reached for the receiver and then stopped while she collected her thoughts for a moment before picking it up.
“Hello.”
“Yes, she is.”
“No. I—”
She listened for some time, her face clouding over until finally she said very forcefully, “That’s a load of bull! …”
“Why? Because he’s a liar. I’ll tell you what really happened. He spoke lewdly and used four-letter words. He made advances, pawing at her. She slapped his hands away, told him to stop, but he wouldn’t. Then he accused her of having a tryst with her friend Jeremy Lawrence and tried to blackmail her into going to a motel—”
She was interrupted at this point and forced to listen for some time.
“No, no, no. All they were doing was rescuing a poor little kitty. If you don’t believe me, ask Mrs. Lawrence. She’ll show you the cat. If necessary, we can get witnesses in Portland at the university who knew about the abandoned cat and knew Charlie rescued it. And her perfect attendance in the journalism course will prove that swine is lying. You want to know my opinion? That son-in-law of yours is a creep and a viper…”
Listening, she looked at the table and rolled her eyes. … “I think that described him perfectly. Listen, Edward, that man committed a crime. We’ll go to the police if we have to. You heard the evidence we can gather. We’d win—”
“Your opinion doesn’t matter. … No, you can’t do that. Actually she’s leaving your house and your church and going to live with me.”
Again she looked over at the table and rolled her eyes.
“No, that’s not it at all. If you must know, it’s something she’s been thinking about all summer and even longer. There’s hate, not love, in that church of yours, and Charlie has a loving nature. This business is only the last straw. That evil minister Hamlin last Easter who was so disgustingly rude to her almost was the last straw then. So her mind is made up…”
A long paused ensued. Putting her hand over the receiver, she whispered, “Your aunt’s on your side, Charlie.” She was about to say something else, but stopped.
“Yes, right now. There’s no better time. We’ll come over with some boxes and suitcases to get her things. You can expect us within a half hour.” Then, without even saying good-bye she hung up.
She returned to the table but did not take her seat.
“Well?” Ted asked.
“Well, indeed,” she said answering Ted’s question but looking at Charlie. “You were right about the lies that man would tell and that Edward would believe him. He even made a bigger lie. He said you and Jeremy frequently skipped classes.”
Under the table Jeremy’s hand sought and found hers. She squeezed it gratefully. “I’m not surprised,” she said. “But Aunt Cora?”
“She was saying to him you can’t stop her from leaving. She’s an adult. I thought Cora was a little mouse but really, I think she’s the one who just made Edward agree, not me.”
“Aunt Cora has a good heart,” Charlie said. “Her instinct is to do the right thing, but…”
“But living with Edward, that’s often just about impossible. I understand,” Tris said. She turned to Ted. “What have we got for boxes and such?”
While they rummaged through closets and Ted clattered down the backstairs, Jeremy and Charlie remained seated. “Are you nervous?” he asked.
“A little,” she said, then more honestly—“maybe a lot.”
“I’d like to be with you when you face your uncle—unless you think my presence would be distracting—you know, confirming your uncle’s suspicions.”
“Oh no, it would make me feel good to have you with me. Please come. I don’t care what my uncle thinks.”
Tris returned from the bedroom ladened with boxes and girded for war
. She was grim, almost angry, but not at what her eyes saw. The coming showdown promised to be as much her mother’s as hers.
“We’ll leave the dishes for later. Ted’s coming. He’s getting an old suitcase stored in the basement. Jeremy?”
“Yes, I’m coming too.”
“Okay. Ted will meet us downstairs.”
Everyone kept their thoughts to themselves during the short drive. Charlie was already so nervous her mouth was dry. Ted hummed along with a song on a radio; since she had never heard him do that before, she assumed he too was nervous. Jeremy’s hand in hers felt damp from nervous sweating. When Tris spoke as they neared Uncle Edward’s house, everyone was startled. She heard Jeremy gasp.
“You know what I think?” she asked. “I think Edward wanted you to come back so that he could throw you out. Know what I mean? Like when a guy says ‘I quit’ and the boss says, ‘No, you don’t. You’re fired.’ He wants the last word.”
Charlie remembered in her first year attending the Church of Salvation Through Jesus the poor adulterous woman who was humiliated and anathematized by her uncle. What her mother said rang true, but she made no response. She was trying to visualize actually saying the words to her uncle that would forever free him from his dominion. Her only answer to her mother’s observation was to squeeze Jeremy’s hand even harder.
Her uncle certainly looked intimidating when he opened the door. Behind him she could see Aunt Cora tight-lipped and distressed, but the reverend minister looked like a boxer stepping into the ring to do battle with the Enemy. He frowned at his sister, frowned more darkly at Charlie, and glared at Jeremy and Ted with positively hostile dislike. That’s because he thought he was only going to have to deal with women and hoped to bully them. He would still bully, but he, a man who disliked any restraint, would have to be more circumspect.
He didn’t invite them in. Instead he merely stepped back and allowed them to pass. Charlie noticed the boys were absent. Probably they has been sent to their rooms. Aunt Cora made a silent appeal with her eyes, to which Charlie nodded slightly and tried to make her own eyes speak the love she felt for her aunt.
Her mother politely said, “Hello, Cora,” before turning to her brother and immediately launching her attack. “You’re going to have to do something about that miserable son-in-law of yours. He’s a danger to society.”
Her uncle’s face reddened, but he controlled his temper. “How I deal with him is none of your business. Right now the issue is Charlene.” As he spoke he pointedly avoided even looking at her mother. Instead his eyes followed Charlie’s every expression as if trying to find a weak point to attack. Now he paused in a further attempt to intimidate her. “I want to hear from your own mouth that you are leaving the church that nurtured you in Jesus. I want you to speak, understand?” He wagged his finger at her. “You, not your mother.”
Her mouth was so dry her tongue hardly worked. Her heart thumped and her arms trembled. “I’m leaving” was all she could say.
Naturally her uncle with his instinct for power and control noticed her nervousness and seized his supposed advantage. “What did you say? I didn’t hear you.”
She felt Jeremy’s hand on her lower back as he came up beside her. “I’m leaving the church. As my mother said to you on the phone, Tom’s behavior was just the final straw. I don’t think the church properly respects women. I was shocked by Rev. Hamlin’s behavior, and I’m sorry to say I never, ever thought it was right that poor Martha was forced upon that man. I knew she didn’t like him. I also feel the church doesn’t really follow the example of Jesus in loving people and in forgiving their sins and weaknesses. I also think the Bible is a beautiful book but that it is not perfect. So the answer is yes, Uncle Edward. I am leaving the church.”
Uncle Edward’s face gave nothing away, unless a slight trembling of his lower lip was something she saw and did not imagine, but the pressure of Jeremy’s hand on her back communicated the love and pride he felt in the effectiveness of her words. She looked at her mother, who signaled her approval by a quick raising of the eyebrows and a quicker smile. They both confirmed her own impression, for she was aware that as she spoke her fear melted away and she felt in complete control.
But the real test of their effectiveness was standing before her. His fists were clenched at his side as he looked at her through narrowed eyes. “I’m disappointed in you, and from this point forward I will have nothing to do with you,” her uncle said, whereupon he immediately turned and went down to his basement lair, banished and vanquished.
She felt strange, both sad and triumphant at the same time. That’s why she spared a charitable thought for his hasty retreat. Maybe he fled because he was about to lose control. Maybe that thought scared him. Maybe that’s why his beliefs were so narrow and rigid, and the only way he knew to escape from chaos. And she couldn’t forget that Martha was trapped in a loveless marriage to an ignorant brute. These were the sadnesses she felt. The triumph was her victory over the fear that had held her down and the certain knowledge that she was now completely free to be herself and love Jeremy.
Tris’s feelings were unalloyed by any sad regrets, however. Listening to her brother’s footsteps grow fainter, she registered her disgust. “Edward has lived with Charlie for six years and still doesn’t understand the first thing about her.”
Aunt Cora, who had watched her husband’s retreating back with troubled, sad eyes and was now staring into space, turned. “Oh, he understands who’s telling the truth and who’s lying,” she said. “The shock is just too much for him right now. Plans he’s made for years…” But she did not finish the thought. “Charlene, I’m so sorry Tom was such a beast. I’m ashamed of him and afraid for Martha’s sake. I don’t know how he could have done such a thing.”
“I do,” Tris said. “He thinks he’s saved. Anything he does doesn’t matter. It’s the same thinking that causes all those famous TV ministers to get caught up in scandal with hookers. It’s the church’s fault.”
“Maybe you’re right, Tris, but it still doesn’t solve anything,” Aunt Cora said with quiet dignity.
“I’ll tell you what the problem is. Your church doesn’t respect women. That’s the attitude that Tom showed today with his gross behavior.”
Tris’s argumentativeness was misdirected. Her brother’s hasty retreat had robbed her of the revenge she wanted to wreak. But Charlie knew Aunt Cora was thinking of Martha, not anything so abstract as the church as a whole. “Martha’s too sweet a girl to be connected with that man,” she said. “Aunt Cora, can’t she divorce him or get the marriage annulled?”
She shook her head. “Our church frowns upon divorce, and a family scandal would ruin Edward. I don’t think—”
“Isn’t it time he started thinking about his daughter and not himself?” her mother asked.
“Perhaps.” Her clipped tone hinted that she was starting to resent her mother’s relentless criticisms.
“Maybe we should collect my things,” Charlie suggested to end Aunt Cora’s torment.
In her room upstairs the men were put to work gathering her books into three boxes while she and Tris collected all her clothes and toiletries. Charlie debated leaving behind many of the clothes that would never be worn again, but in the interest of time decided to do the winnowing at home.
As a result their work was done in ten minutes. Downstairs Aunt Cora waited near the door.
Before she left Charlie knew she had to say something to her aunt. It required no thought, for she spoke from the heart. “Aunt Cora, I want to thank you for your many kindnesses through the years. You’ve been wonderful to me, and I want you to know that I will always be grateful and always think of you with love.” Then she hugged her aunt and felt the wet tears on her face that told her that Cora felt as she did. Such a show of open emotion was beyond rare; it was unique.
“God bless you, Charlene. I hope to see you again under happier circumstances.”
“Me too.”
Finally Charlie had an idea that was guaranteed to change the subject. “Mom,” she said from the backseat where her hand was entwined in Jeremy’s, “I’m going to need some new clothes now. Can we go shopping on Saturday. I’ve saved a lot of money from my job at the college.”
She turned to Jeremy and smiled as she whispered, “Almost all of it, in fact. I didn’t have anywhere to spend the money.”
She knew her mom. Instantly she grew excited at the prospect of helping her daughter choose new clothes. For months upon end, it seems, she had been perusing advertising circulars from newspaper with this very idea in mind. She became delightfully girlish, almost like a friend instead of a mother, as she shared a few ideas about shorts, blouses, sandals and the like.
“Hey, Jeremy,” Ted said, “much more of this and we men will need to make our escape.”
But by then they were already pulling into the driveway of their apartment building. The three boxes of books and one suitcase were left in the corner of the living room for tomorrow, and it was time to say good-bye to Jeremy.
She walked downstairs with him. They kissed again, another long and loving kiss that electrified her body, and they made a few plans.
“I want you to meet my mom,” he said. “I’ve already told her so much about you that I’m sure she’ll feel she already knows you.”
“And I hope Tiger will remember me too.”
“He meows for you every day,” Jeremy said with a smile. He too was ecstatically happy and thinking about their future together.
They made plans for her to come to dinner at his house tomorrow evening, after which they would go to a movie. It would be her first date. Then at the car they kissed again and each said, “I love you.”
She made her way back upstairs, so happy and fulfilled she was vibrating. As her first contribution to the household, she volunteered to do the dishes, after which the three of them sat and talked for a long time in the living room. Clothes were much discussed, plans were made for her to attend U.S.M. in the fall, and much further conjecturing about how Uncle Edward would deal with Tom and Martha filled the time. At one point she and her mother went into the spare bedroom to get it ready for her first night at home. When they returned to the living room at shortly after nine o’clock, Ted announced that his long, hard day of work was catching up to him and he retired.
That was when they had a mother-daughter talk about life, men and sex. They were sitting on the couch side by side. Frequently as they talked her mother would touch Charlie as if to convince herself that she actually had her daughter back. Sometimes the touches were light pats; other times she would have her arm around Charlie’s shoulders; a few times she lovingly stroked Charlie’s cheek. But when they started their talk, they were simply side by side, hands in lap.
Her mother started by saying, “Jeremy is a really fine young man, Charlie. You’re lucky to have him.
She thought of how she felt when he kissed her and how his voice showed panicked concern when she called him in the afternoon and how his hand was at her back when she faced down Uncle Edward and said, “I know.”
“Can you tell me how you came to fall in love with him?”
“Well, really it started in high school. He was always very supportive and always treated me with respect. That’s when just about everyone else was treating me like a freak. I remember in our senior year he wanted to ask me to the senior prom but knew that I wouldn’t be allowed to go. Somehow, though, we both understood each other.”
“So what happened this summer to change things? I mean, I know you didn’t just suddenly fall in love today.”
“We talked a lot during the drives back and forth to Portland. He explained to me why he was an anti-war protester.”
“Which was…?”
“Because he was being true to the things his father taught him about being a good person, sympathizing with the weak and the poor, not being a bully. That kind of thing. One day he told me how he learned it was all right for men to cry. When his father was killed in a car accident, his grandfather or someone said, ‘Now you’re the man of the family.’ He said after that for weeks he didn’t cry, but then his mother talked to him and told him that his dad cried, cried when he was born, cried when his own dad died, and cried at sad movies. When he told me that it showed he wasn’t a conventional guy, that he thought for himself. Really, Mom, I felt so close to him after that I just wanted him to be mine. The trust he showed, the respect he showed me, believe me, I knew he was special. And then today when I called him and told him I needed his help, his voice was so concerned, so panicky in fear I was in danger, that I knew he loved me too.”
“Wow! That’s quite a story. Again, I’ll say you’re a lucky girl, and”—here she put her arm around Charlie and her voice broke when she added, “And he’s a lucky guy to have such a treasure as you. I’m very proud of you.”
“Thank you, Mom. I feel just as lucky to have you back in my life.”
“I’m really impressed with how strong you are. I’ve been thinking about that since this afternoon. A lot of women would be traumatized by what Tom did, to say nothing about that awful night I lost you. But I remember some things Dr. Tellas says. In both cases you weren’t passive. You fought back and took control. So instead of being victimized, you were empowered. That last word I learned from Dr. Tellas. It’s a feminist term, you know.”
“She’s really helped you, I’d say, because you’re strong now too, Mom. You’re a strong woman.”
“Well, I try. What especially I want to be is a good mother. I have a lot of years to make up for and a lot of mistakes to try to undo. I’m not sure I’m qualified to give you any advice except to say don’t do what I did when I was your age. One thing’s for sure. Your life is going to be much different now.”
“I know that. It’s exciting and a little scary.”
“Does Jeremy drink?”
“Very little. He never has more than a few beers. He told me he got drunk at a party his freshman year at Wisconsin and didn’t like it. His mother let him drink wine with meals when in high school and taught him to be a responsible drinker.”
“That’s good to hear. Charlie, I don’t know if alcoholism is something in the genes or just from bad treatment as a kid, but if it is genes, you be careful. Drink moderately just like Jeremy. Remember booze almost ruined your mother’s life.”
“I don’t know if I’ll even drink anything, but I think I’m old enough now to be beyond the wilding stage.”
“I hope so. Now, Charlie,” she said, looking into her eyes and stroking her cheek, “there’s that thing called sex. When you and Jeremy have sex make sure to have protection.”
Charlie, remembering how hot she and Jeremy had gotten in the afternoon, felt herself blushing, which her mother interpreted as virginal modesty. “Sexual feelings are perfectly normal, Charlie.”
“I know that, but…”
“Things don’t change over night. Just take it slow. When you’re ready you’ll know.”
“I think we’re already close. There’s definitely a spark between us.”
Her mother’s eyes twinkled. “What did you two do this afternoon before I got home?”
“We kissed a lot and got very excited. That’s how I know we’re close.”
Her mother smiled broadly. “Why you devil, you. You continue to surprise me.”
“There is something I think I should do to get ready, something I hope you can help me with.”
“If it’s technique and such, that you’ll learn through experience.”
“No, it’s something silly almost. I’ve never shaved my underarms. I was thinking that Jeremy might find that strange.”
Her mother laughed. “You know, I never thought of tha
t, but of course in Edward’s household no one would do that, would they? Did Martha, for example?”
“I don’t know. We always dressed and undressed in the bathroom.”
“You mean you lived with her for years and never saw her?”
“Naked? No.”
“Do you have a razor for your legs?”
“Yes, that I did learn to do.”
“Half way there. I think what we’ll need to do is trim the hair with scissors, then we can use my electric razor for the rest. The first few times might irritate your skin, but then you’ll get used to it.”
“When can we do this?”
“When I asked you that question about getting your stuff from Edward’s house, you said ‘the sooner the better.’ How about right now?”
Thus it was that the last thing Charlie did on the most important day of her life, the day she first told Jeremy that she loved him, returned to her mother’s home, and began her life of freedom, was to go into the bathroom with her mother, remove her blouse and bra and raise her arms while her mother carefully clipped the reddish-brown hair away and then shaved the rest with an electric razor. Nor was she embarrassed to expose her breasts to her mother, who had, after all, brought her into the world naked and vulnerable. She knew now that there was nothing she could not share with her mother. After years of physical and mental isolation, there were two people in the world to love and to share her life with. That’s what home really meant. A home was not made of wood or brick; it was a life built with love and trust.
Finale