Spilled Milk: Based on a true story

by Randis, K. L

  Three times I got lost making my way back to Pennsylvania. My mind was in too many different places and I couldn’t concentrate on which way to go. When I finally pulled into Gina’s driveway, it was a little after ten at night. I hadn’t been to Paul’s house since we broke up, but it was a needed comfort when I walked in the door and smelled the faint aroma of gravy coming from the kitchen.

  “Brooke, I told Paulie what was going on. I wanted him to have time to process everything before you got here. I’m sorry if that was wrong…”

  I shook my head and hugged her. “No, it’s fine. I don’t know how I would say it. Thank you.”

  The front door opened and Paul walked in, his face sunken from crying. He kicked off his sneakers as he made his way over to me and before the tears started falling down my face he had me wrapped in his arms, his face buried in my hair.

  Gina stood off to the side for a minute before interrupting. “All right Brooke, I want you to try to sleep. I have a warm blanket here.” She opened a quilt and threw it over the couch.

  “Ma, she’s sleeping with me tonight.”

  Gina looked at Paul. “Paul, honey I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Mom, please. She’s trembling. Nothing’s gonna happen. She needs me.”

  He was right, I did need him, and I was glad Paul suggested I stay in his room.

  Gina sighed. “All right, please don’t make me regret it.”

  She kissed Paul on the forehead and me on the cheek. “Night kids.”

  Gina gave me a pair of pajamas and after washing my face I snuggled in next to Paul and put my head on his chest. I listened to his heartbeat and traced his fingers with mine in the dark. “Paul,” I whispered, “I’m sorry your mom had to tell you.”

  He sighed. “It’s all right. She didn’t know that much anyway, yet. You’re here now.” He tilted my chin and brought my lips to meet his. I melted into his arms and tried to focus on his hands moving around my stomach and down my hips.

  “Paul, not now.” I pushed his hand to the side and put my head down on his chest. Why would he try anything right now? “We aren’t even together.”

  “So?” I could feel him shake his head in the dark. He shifted his weight and slid me off his chest and onto the mattress. I could tell he was staring at the ceiling. “You know, Brooke, it’s a shame. You’re never going to find a guy as good as me.” He rolled over with his back to me and within a few minutes I could hear him breathing rhythmically in his sleep.

  My body stiffened, I didn’t doubt Paul was right. No one would want to be with me knowing what has happened to me.

  Paul’s TV blared on at nine thirty the next morning. I searched for Paul with my hand and when I found nothing I opened my eyes to see him sitting in his bean bag chair watching cartoons. “Hey,” I said, half asleep, “Why don’t you come lay here for a while? It’s not every day we get to sleep in the same bed.”

  He clicked through channels. “Just because you’re here doesn’t mean I’m going to change my whole routine. This is what I always do Saturday mornings.”

  I shook my head and sighed, sinking back down into the pillows. His mood swings were exhausting. The TV clicked off a few minutes later. “I’m going to my cousins. Later.”

  With no energy to chase after him, I fell back asleep. When I woke up again it was almost dinner time and my Aunt Jean and Uncle Bruce were in the kitchen of Gina’s house.

  “Morning sleepyhead,” Uncle Bruce said, kissing my forehead.

  “You hungry?” Gina poured a bowl of soup before I could answer.

  “Why am I so tired?” I rubbed my eyes and sunk into a chair at the kitchen table. My head throbbed and I felt like I needed a day’s worth of sleep to catch up.

  “This is very emotional for you honey, it’s going to take a lot out of you. Here, eat up.”

  Lou came home about an hour later and embraced me. “You’re a strong, brave girl. We’re all here for you.” He crossed the kitchen and kissed Gina and shook hands with my aunt and uncle.

  The plan was to wait until Dad went to work that night, sometime around seven. Aunt Jean and Lou were going to go to my mom’s to tell her what happened while Uncle Bruce and Gina took me to the police station to file a report. Then Aunt Jean and Uncle Bruce wanted mom to follow them to Long Island with all the kids until we knew he was locked away and it was safe to come home.

  “All right Brooke, we need to write down dates, where things happened, what happened.” Gina looked up at me. “This won’t be easy, so let’s start from the beginning, okay?”

  “Why do we have to do this?”

  “The police need to know that we have all this information, so they know what to investigate. They will ask the same questions, so I want you to feel confident that you have everything you need to say.”

  I nodded. Gina wrote as I talked. Lou, my aunt and uncle sat at the table too, listening. I told them about New York, about him coming into my room as young as I could remember. I told them about moving to Pennsylvania and how it happened more frequently because we didn’t have family around. How he would bring me into his bedroom and then pretend the next day that nothing had happened.

  “Okay Brooke, good, good. Now, try and remember, when did he first rape you?”

  The word made me flinch. My uncle looked away and Lou cringed under the word. I was embarrassed enough listing everything he had done to molest me, I couldn’t bring myself to talk to them about the rapes.

  I hung my head. “Brooke, you’re doing a great job. We need to know the dates. It’s important.” Gina put her hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay.”

  “We thought he touched her,” Aunt Jean said sounding frantic, “The report from children and youth only mentioned touching. Not rape.”

  I covered my face with my hands. My skin burned as I tried to rub the shame off my skin.

  “Brooke, I picked you up,” said a soft voice.

  I looked up at Gina.

  “I picked you up from school the day after, remember? That’s one date.”

  I couldn’t believe she remembered. Gina’s eyes looked moist. I wondered how long she knew and didn’t say anything to me. She just waited for me to feel safe enough to tell her. It must have been killing her inside that I never did.

  “Is it true, Brooke?” Aunt Jean pressed through tears.

  Uncle Bruce nodded. “It’s okay Brooke, the bubble, remember?”

  I shook my head and lowered my forehead to my hands. These four adults were about to be crushed. I didn’t want to watch.

  “He did.” My voice screeched. “He raped me.”

  I could feel my Aunt Jean hit the floor in hysterics and I turned my whole body away from everyone, covering my face and trying to fall into the background.

  Lou and Gina had their arms around me. “Don’t you dare be ashamed.” Gina’s voice was strong through her tears. “This is not your fault. Come here, oh, let me hold you. It’s okay, it’s okay.”

  I sobbed as my body shook.

  “I’m gonna get sick,” I said. Once in the bathroom I could hear Uncle Bruce trying to comfort my Aunt as she sobbed and cried out. A genuine nightmare was unfolding before them.

  When I sat back down at the table, tissues were getting passed around and everyone’s bloodshot eyes were worn. “Feel better?” Gina nodded in my direction.

  I closed my eyes. Years of suppressing and ignoring and denying just escaped and beneath my trembling skin I felt something I had never felt before.

  Peace.

  Chapter Seventeen

  There were so many incidents, but I couldn’t tell them that. I didn’t think they would be able to handle it. I wasn’t sure I could. So I chose the one’s I knew the most about.

  The one time Gina picked me up from school the next day, which also gave me a witness, and the time when my mom was in the hospital since I had tried to fight back and escape. Gina said it would be enough, and didn’t press me to try and remember the dates of any more.<
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  I didn’t want to anyway. It wasn’t like a birthday or vacation memory I was trying to recall, I tried to push many of them to the back of my mind, never to be thought about again.

  After eight o’clock, Gina drove me to the police station with Uncle Bruce in the front. I watched the trees float by from the back seat and tried not to doze off again. My body had a hard time coping with the amount of adrenaline over the past twenty fours hours and I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open at that point.

  The radio hummed a Dixie Chicks song. Gina looked up in the rearview mirror and smirked. “You know this song?”

  The tune sounded familiar. When the chorus started Gina turned a knob so I could listen. A smile spread across my face as Gina belted out the tunes.

  Well it wasn't two weeks

  after she got married that

  Wanda started gettin' abused

  She put on dark glasses and long sleeved blouses

  And make-up to cover a bruise

  Well she finally got the nerve to file for divorce

  She let the law take it from there

  But Earl walked right through that restraining order

  And put her in intensive care

  Right away Mary Anne flew in from Atlanta

  On a red eye midnight flight

  She held Wanda's hand as they

  worked out a plan

  And it didn't take long to decide

  That Earl had to die

  Goodbye Earl

  Those black-eyed peas

  They tasted all right to me Earl

  The irony of the song playing on our way to the police station was suddenly funny. Gina shook her head. “Oh, oh gosh that’s wrong. Okay, I’m done. But seriously, we don’t use the name David anymore. Not Dad, not Father, not David. Earl is all he’s worth. From now on, we call him Earl.”

  The thought was actually a comfort. Now that everything was about to come out, I didn’t want to call him Dad. He didn’t deserve that title. I didn’t want to call him anything really, but calling him Earl would give me a reprieve when I spoke about him at least, even if it was just with Gina.

  Gina had called ahead to explain the situation so we didn’t have to do that when we first got into the precinct. It definitely helped ease the transition with the police officer who ushered me into a back room with Gina calling after me that she would be right there waiting when I was finished.

  An orange haired guy in his mid forties pulled up a chair next to me and cleared his throat. “My name is Officer Stubaker. You’re here to make a report about your father?”

  I nodded.

  “All right, can you tell me what happened?”

  Gina and my family had really tip toed around asking me to explain the situation. The bluntness of this police officer was a little uncomfortable. “Um, you mean, with Ear- uh, my dad?”

  He tapped his pencil. “Yes. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

  I sighed and looked into my lap.

  “You uh, you told your family that something happened to you. I just need to know what it is you told them so I can write it down for our records too.”

  I could tell he was trying to make the situation as comfortable as possible, but I didn’t know what to say. I never so much as cursed in front of an adult, and now I was sitting in front of a stranger and he wanted me to explain such a personal circumstance.

  “From the beginning?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “Okay… Uh, when I lived in New York, my dad used to come into my room at night and touch me. When I would bathe with my sister he would use his hands to clean us instead of a rag. After we moved to Pennsylvania he…” I trailed off . I just did not have the vocabulary to make this comfortable for me. “He uh, raped me. Twice where I know the dates.”

  An overhead fluorescent threatened to go out above us and there wasn’t even a poster in the room I could pretend to stare at.

  “Did you ever tell anyone about this, I mean, before tonight?” He probed.

  “Social services came to my school once. They asked me about it but I told them it was all a dream.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I was afraid they would take my brothers and sister away from me.”

  His green eyes softened and he rubbed his fingers through his prickly looking beard. “Right, right. Hey so, do you like to write?”

  My face must have sparked because he shook his head. “This might be easier if I have you write down what happened. That sound better to you?”

  “Yes, please.” I nodded and smiled a little.

  “All right, just be sure to be as detailed as possible. Don’t be embarrassed, just write what happened word for word.”

  He grabbed three pieces of paper and set a pen down next to me. “I’ll come back and check on you in about fifteen minutes all right?” He ran his fingers through his hair and cleared his throat as he shut the door.

  After twenty five minutes I was finally finished. I folded the papers in half to keep anyone else from seeing them and waited for Officer Stubaker to come back.

  “All finished?” he asked, handing me a glass of water.

  “Yep.” I handed him the papers.

  He stared at them. “I’ll need to open these, and read them, then have you initial them in front of me. That all right?”

  My face flamed. “Oh, sure.”

  He read for several minutes and I chipped away at the nail polish on my fingernails to pass the time. When he finished, he showed me where to sign and led me back out to Gina and Uncle Bruce.

  Office Stubaker suggested that my aunt and uncle take my mom and the kids to New York until they could talk to Dad about my testimony. Uncle Bruce nodded his head.

  “You all right kiddo? You did a great job.” Gina turned and smiled at me as we headed out of the parking lot.

  “Yea. I think so. I had to write down what happened. It was hard for me to talk about it. I didn’t know what words I was allowed to say in front of him because he’s a police officer.”

  “Oh, honey. I’m sure he’s heard it before, but I’m glad you could write it down if that’s what made you comfortable.”

  “Where we going now?”

  “Your mom’s. Aunt Jean and Lou are there letting her know what’s going on.”

  I cringed. I remembered back to when she got the letter in the mail and didn’t have much to say except for how hard it would be for the accusations to be true because of money. Now that other people were involved, I imagined her reaction would be much different.

  As if on cue, when I walked through the front door Mom came towards me with open arms and tears streaming down her face. “Ohhhh Brooke! I am so sorry. Oh my God, Oh my God.”

  When I pulled away from her I was surprised to see Thomas coming at me with tears in his eyes. “Brooke, are you okay? I’m sorry.” I held his head to my chest and Kat was suddenly at my side, squeezing me and crying just as hard. Adam was at a friend’s house but Mom had a call out for him to come home.

  “Okay, everyone listen here.” Uncle Bruce took the reins. “I need everyone to go upstairs, pack a bag with at least a week’s worth of clothes. We want to be out of here in a half hour. Go.”

  Uncle Bruce explained to mom that the police officer suggested the safest thing for her to do would be to stay with family until they could start their investigation. “What about school?” Mom asked. “Do they know you live in New York?”

  “Just call the school in the morning, tell them you have a family emergency. Don’t tell them where you’re staying though. Also, write a note on the bulletin board that you had to take the dog to the vet so David doesn’t wonder why she’s gone when he gets home in the morning. We’ll take her with us too.”

  Gina nodded. “Make sure you go to the bank first thing in the morning since you have a joint account. Take everything out. If you don’t, he will. You have kids to take care of.”

  Mom nodded and went off to pack a bag.


  “You were so brave tonight.” Gina wrapped me in her arms and stroked my hair. “You’re in good hands now, you’re safe. Lou and I are going to go home now, we should talk to Paul.”

  I nodded. “Tell him I’m sorry.”

  “I will not.” Gina shook her head. “There is nothing in this world you need to be sorry for.”

  We didn’t get to New York until three in the morning. We were all exhausted and crashed on the beds they had set up. I didn’t wake up until after two in the afternoon the next day and I moved through the motions of going downstairs to face everyone. After eating some crackers I headed upstairs to take a shower again. I felt like I couldn’t get clean enough.

  The calls to our cell phones started around four P.M and every time ‘DAD’ flashed across my screen I jumped a little. I eventually turned off my phone. Two weeks went by and the police stayed in touch with my mom.

  I overheard Mom telling my Aunt that Earl had called her friend Ellen, somewhere she frequently went for tea. Ellen truly did not know where we were when he asked, and obviously out of ideas of where we could be Earl huffed into the phone “Well, Brooke must have said…”

  “Brooke must have said what?” Ellen had asked. Earl ignored her question and hung up the phone.

  I started to get a flurry of text messages from people from school:

  Brooke u ok? Ur dad came into work 2day. Wanted to see where u were, where u at?

  Are you ok? Haven’t heard from you. No one was at your house

  BROOKE CALL ME. YOU HAVENT BEEN AT SCHOOL FOR THREE WEEKS.

  I miss u. Its Judd im barrowing chalkys phone. Text this # pelase. R u alive?

  The police told us not to answer any phone calls or texts and we weren’t allowed to let anyone know where we were. Instead I had to listen to voicemails of Cristin and Judd pleading with me to call them. They had no idea what was going on.

  The only one who did know was Paul, but I never heard from him. I hoped every time I heard my phone go off it would be him asking how I was. Instead I got a text from Cristin: