Stolen Lives

by Joy Redmond

  Aunt July got into the car, handed the books to Ali and started the car. Not a word was said all the way home, and when they finally arrived, Aunt July got out and marched toward the house in stony silence.

  Again Ali though about running—but where could she go? She had some money and might be able to crawl out her bedroom window after Aunt July went to sleep. She could go to Toots’ house, but Toots didn’t have a car. She could walk to the bus station and buy a ticket that would take her as far away as possible, but she just couldn’t leave Mr. Puss behind, and she doubted if he would be allowed to travel on a bus. She had to face facts. She was trapped for the time being and would simply have to tough it out as best she could.

  Steeling her courage, Ali braced herself and stepped into the house. She stood in the living room, hands on hips, glaring at Aunt July, and said, “So, what are you gonna do—hang me by my thumbs from the rafters of Grandpa’s barn?”

  “When I finish with you, young lady, you’ll wish I had,” Aunt July said, her tone low and menacing as she stepped toward Ali.

  Ali flinched, bracing for a slap, but it didn’t come. Aunt July moved so close to Ali’s face that she could smell her breath, which smelled a bit like sour milk.

  “I have a better plan for you, missy,” Aunt July growled, “but for right now, you go into the bathroom and scrub that paint off your face. Then take off those trampy clothes and give them to me so I can burn them for good and all.”

  Ali’s eyes narrowed, but she turned toward the bathroom, reluctantly ready to comply. At that moment, Mr. Puss leaped onto Aunt July’s leg and scratched her. Ali quickly pulled him off while Aunt July screamed as if the devil had just poked her with his pitchfork.

  “If that beast ever attacks me again, I’ll wring his neck!” Aunt July shouted, rubbing her leg. “Now get into the bathroom and start scrubbing—and take that confounded cat with you!”

  Ali scrubbed her face until she thought it would bleed, and then she rubbed baby oil over it to ease the stinging. She ripped off her clothes, threw them into the hallway, then walked into her bedroom and pulled a nightgown over her head.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, she picked up Mr. Puss and whispered, “Don’t scratch Aunt July anymore, okay? She’ll tell Grandpa and only bad things will happen. I appreciate you sticking up for me, but you have to be good.”

  A few moments later, Aunt July called from the living room, “Ali, get in here!”

  Ali walked into the living room where she found Aunt July sitting on the couch, wiping away tears, but her eyes were as hard as steel. “Sit!” she commanded, pointing to a chair next to the couch.

  After Ali sat down, Aunt July said in a slow, deliberate voice, “Here’s how things are going to be from now on. You will stay in your room and only come out to use the bathroom and eat. You’ll only be allowed outside to go to school, and I’ll drive you there every morning and pick you up every afternoon. You’ll go to prayer meeting on Wednesday night and to church on Sunday. After church you’ll spend the entire day in the sewing room at Ma and Pa’s and will only come out when it’s time for evening church. Then come back home and go to bed.”

  Ali sat listening numbly as Aunt July continued, “There will be no more visits with Toots, either at her house or here. You won’t use the phone unless Ma or Pa calls specifically to talk with you. We’ll take the radio out of your room and there will be no more listening to that garbage you call music. It only puts the wrong ideas in your head. I’m going to assign extra Bible reading, and I’ll give you a quiz every night before you go to bed—and before you actually climb into bed, you and I will be side-by-side on our knees while you pray for forgiveness and cleansing. Is that understood?”

  “Aye, aye, sir!” Ali said, standing and giving a sarcastic salute. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

  “Hold on, missy,” Aunt July said, holding out a piece of paper. “Here’s a list of scriptures I have written down for you to read right away. After three months of reading and praying, maybe we’ll exorcise the demons in you!”

  Ali sighed, then turned and took the piece of paper before hurrying from the room. Just as she reached her bedroom, she heard Aunt July call, “And don’t you dare slam that door!”

  As Ali sat sullenly on the bed, Mr. Puss jumped up beside her. She stroked his fur and mumbled fiercely, fighting back tears, “I’ll pray for forgiveness when hell freezes over, and I’ve got enough of the Bible memorized to pass her stupid quizzes. I can’t see any other choice but to just outlast her. She has no idea how much of Mama Jane I have in me.”

  A short time later, Aunt July gently opened the bedroom door, her eyes red and swollen, and said, “As soon as you finish reading the scriptures, get started on your homework. I’ll have supper ready by five.”

  Aunt July shut the door, and as soon as Ali heard noises from the kitchen, she sprawled across the bed and cried until her body shook. For a long time, she lay with her eyes closed, dreaming of the day when she could finally make her escape. If there really was a God and if He loved her, when would He finally show her how to find her daddy? Her heart simply wouldn’t accept that he might be dead, even though Mama Jane had insisted that was the case.

  At 5:00 p.m., Aunt July tapped gently on the door. She poked her head in and said, “Supper’s on the table. Wash up and come eat, but take that nightgown off and get dressed first.”

  Without a word, Ali stood as Aunt July left. She pulled the nightgown off, opened her closet and pulled out a long dress and petticoat. She didn’t bother with underwear. She figured Aunt July wouldn’t check, but she would surely have a coronary if she knew. She picked up Mr. Puss and headed for the kitchen.

  Aunt July said the blessing and the meal was eaten in utter silence. Afterward, Aunt July said, “I’ll clean up. You get back to your room. I’ll be in at bedtime and we’ll say prayers together.

  Ali headed toward the bathroom, hoping a long soak in the tub would help ease her hostility and resentment. As the tub was filling, Ali thought she heard banging, but by the time the tub was full, the banging had stopped. She climbed into the tub as Mr. Puss curled up on the bathmat. When she had finished her bath, all Ali really wanted was to crawl into bed, but she knew that even if she did, Aunt July would come in and wake her so they could pray.

  At 9:00, Aunt July opened the bedroom door, looked at the stack of school books on the bed, shook her head and said, “You haven’t done as you were told, have you? Don’t you defy me, Ali. I can make your life more miserable than you could ever imagine.”

  Ali simply looked at Aunt July and smiled, which seemed to catch Aunt July off guard for a moment, but she quickly recovered and said, “You’re in for a big surprise if you think you can make me back down. I’m telling you right now, I will win!” She stepped toward the bed and held out her hand. “Now let’s get on our knees and pray.”

  Ali didn’t take her aunt’s hand. She eased off the bed, knelt, and closed her eyes as Aunt July knelt beside her and said, “I want you to start by asking God for forgiveness, and promise that you won’t repeat your evil ways with men.”

  “I’ve already done that and I don’t have to repeat it,” Ali said flatly. “God heard me the first time. You can say whatever you want to say, lay hands on me, and pray all you want. I’ve already said my piece.”

  Aunt July sighed deeply, then said, “Okay, I’ll leave you for the night, but you have no idea what I have in store for you.” Aunt July stood and walked toward the door, but before turning out the light, she turned and said, “Oh, and if you think you can climb out the window after I’m asleep, you can’t. I nailed the window shut.”

  After her aunt was gone, Ali whispered to Mr. Puss, “As if you could make my life any more miserable. We can take it. She won’t break us.”

  Ali was still sleeping deeply in the morning when Aunt July opened the door and said, “Ali, breakfast is on the table.”

  Ali stumbled to the kitchen, took her seat at the table,
and bowed her head as Aunt July said the blessing. Again the meal was eaten in silence. Ali wondered if Aunt July thought the silent treatment was a form of punishment. If she did, she was greatly mistaken. It was a blessing. After breakfast, Ali was ordered back to her room and told to start her Bible reading.

  In her room, Ali opened her notebook and began pouring her feelings out on paper. Just as she was finishing, she heard a knock on the front door. Stroking Mr. Puss, she said, “It’s probably some church sisters. I sure hope Aunt July didn’t call in the heavy artillery to lay hands on me to cast out my demons.”

  A few moments later, Aunt July appeared at the bedroom door. “Ali, there’s someone here to see you.”

  “Who?” Ali asked without looking up.

  “You need to come see for yourself.”

  Ali sighed as she stood and straightened her dress before heading for the living room where she found a pretty lady on the couch, smiling sweetly. The lady stood as Ali entered, and though she was still smiling, her beautiful blue eyes seemed to be on the verge of tears.

  Aunt July said, “Ali, this is Mrs. Patrick.”

  Ali froze in her tracks, her heart pounding. Mrs. Patrick? Her teacher’s wife?

  Mrs. Patrick looked Ali straight in the eye and said, “I just wanted to come by and apologize for the way my husband treated you. You’re a sweet young lady and you never should have been subjected to such things.”

  It took a moment for Ali to realize what was going on. Mrs. Patrick was apologizing!

  Aunt July bristled at Mrs. Patrick’s words. “You’re apologizing?” she asked in disbelief. Ali should be apologizing to you. She was acting like an alley cat and I’m so shamed of her that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to hold my head up in public.”

  Mrs. Patrick looked confused and then said, “Miss Monroe, Ali was just a starry-eyed child who was smitten by my husband’s good looks and charm. She was the victim, not the perpetrator! My husband took advantage of her youth.”

  Aunt July’s face reddened as she said, “Ali’s no victim. She’s old enough to know better, and she got what she asked for—and believe me, she’ll be harshly punished. How can you make excuses for what Ali did? She needs to beg your forgiveness for carrying on with your husband!”

  Ignoring Aunt July’s tirade, Ali looked at Mrs. Patrick and said, “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I wasn’t carrying on with your husband. I did let him kiss me, but he took me by surprise—”

  Mrs. Patrick held up her hand and interrupted, “My dear, hormones are on a rampage at your age, and nature screams louder than conscience, especially when a man like my husband makes advances. I remember being thirteen.”

  “Thank you,” Ali managed to say, her voice trembling with emotion.

  Aunt July shook her head and said, “I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” She looked at Mrs. Patrick and added, “You must not have been raised in a Christian home or taught any morals—”

  Mrs. Patrick cut her off. “I was raised in a home where people were taught to use common sense. We were also Christians who believed in forgiving others for being human, and we all fall short at times—even you, Miss Monroe.”

  Aunt July gasped as Mrs. Patrick turned toward Ali, held out her arms, and said, “Come here, Ali.”

  Hardly feeling her feet move, Ali walked toward Mrs. Patrick until she felt herself being enfolded in a loving embrace. It had been a long time since she felt loved.

  Mrs. Patrick whispered in Ali’s ear, “You’re a beautiful young lady. Hold your head high and don’t ever let anyone make you feel ashamed. You did nothing that any other girl your age wouldn’t have done in the same situation. You’re special. Always remember that.”

  Ali felt a comforting pat on her back as Mrs. Patrick finally loosened her embrace. She stepped back, wiped her eyes, and said, “Thank you, Mrs. Patrick.”

  Aunt July stood mute as Mrs. Patrick walked to the front door and opened it, then turned and gave Ali another sweet smile before she stepped out onto the front porch. Ali wanted to run after Mrs. Patrick and beg her to take her away, but Aunt July grabbed Ali by the arm and said, “That woman needs to read her Bible. I suggest you get back to your room and do the same!”

  Ali jerked her arm away and ran back to her room, where she picked up her notebook and added the amazing episode that had just taken place. Like a reassuring angel, Mrs. Patrick had showed up to remind her that not everyone was like Aunt July or her grandparents. Whatever Bible Mrs. Patrick read, Ali wanted a copy. It had to be very different from the one that was constantly being crammed down her throat.

  All the rest of that Saturday, Ali only came out of her room long enough to eat lunch and feed Mr. Puss, then headed straight back, where she daydreamed until it was time for supper, a bath, and bed. Though Ali waited in the dark, Aunt July didn’t come into her room that night. Ali crept to the door and listened, and she was sure she heard her aunt sobbing in her own bedroom. That was strange, but she was secretly glad. At least they wouldn’t be fighting about her prayers that night.

  Aunt July woke Ali up at 6:00 the next morning, saying, “Time to get up and get ready for church. Lord knows, you definitely need to be in his house today, so don’t dilly-dally.”

  Of all the Sundays Ali had dreaded going to church and then spending an endless boring day with her grandparents, that Sunday was the worst. She wondered if Aunt July had told Grandpa and Grandpa about Mr. Patrick, and if she had, she could only imagine the horrible tortures her grandparents would dream up.

  Ali was so nervous that she could only eat a few bites of her oatmeal, and she didn’t even touch her buttered toast, but instead of throwing a fit about wasting food, Aunt July never said a word.

  Dressed in her ugly Sunday clothes, she was waiting by the back door when Aunt July came out of her bedroom, ready to drive them out to church. Ali was not surprised that not a single word was spoken during the drive.

  As the afternoon dragged on, Ali was surprised that Grandpa and Grandma didn’t act any differently than any other Sunday. Apparently, Aunt July hadn’t told them about Mr. Patrick—or the rest of the story. Finally the day came to an end, but when they got home, Ali had no appetite. She just went to her bedroom and Aunt July didn’t follow. She also didn’t come in to monitor Ali’s prayers.

  The next morning, Aunt July woke Ali thirty minutes earlier than usual. “I want you to read a few passages I’ve underlined before I drive you to school,” she said, holding out her Bible.

  Ali took the Bible and waited for Aunt July to leave the bedroom. Then she slammed it shut without looking at what her aunt had underlined. She dragged herself out of bed and slowly made her way to the kitchen where Aunt July was waiting with breakfast. Although Ali braced herself for the Bible quiz, Aunt July remained silent.

  After breakfast, Ali dressed in a full skirt, oversized blouse, and penny loafers. As she pulled her hair back in a ponytail, she looked at reflection in the mirror and said sadly, “Homemade freak!”

  During the drive to school, Ali wondered how she would be able to walk into the school looking like Old Mother Hubbard. How could she face her friends? Would she even have any friends after they saw what she was going to look like from then on? How would she survive the next three months?

  As she had promised, Aunt July drove Ali to school every morning and picked her up every afternoon. The only time she saw Toots was in class, and just as she had expected, Ali was shunned by the other students. The new teacher, Mr. Bruce, treated her as if she had the plague.

  May 12th was Ali’s birthday, but Aunt July never even mentioned it. The drive to school was made in silence, as usual.

  As Ali walked into the classroom, Toots ran up and hugged her, saying, “Happy birthday, my best friend in the whole wide world!”

  “You remembered?” Ali asked, her eyes wide with surprise.

  “Of course. I remember it every year, don’t I?” said Toots. “After all, mine is next week.”

  �
��And I always remember yours, too,” Ali said with a laugh. “Today is Mr. Puss’ birthday, too.”

  “Really?” Toots asked.

  “No, but I don’t know when he was born and I got him on my sixth birthday, so I’ve always said we share the same birthday. He’s eight now, and I’m finally fourteen. Only four more years—”

  Ali’s voice trailed off at that point, but Toots prodded her for more. “Four more years until what?”

  “Oh, uh,” Ali stammered, “I meant two more years till I can get my driver’s license. I hope Aunt July’s car will last that long. She says it’s on its last legs and when it breaks down again she’s not going to buy another one because cars are too much trouble. She’s going to hitch rides with her church sisters.”

  “Yeah, I can’t wait to get my license,” Toot agreed. “Mama said I could borrow her car until I save up enough money to get my own. Mama pays me pretty good for working at the beauty shop on weekends and during the summer, so I’m hoping I’ll have a car by the time I graduate. We can tool around town and—” Toots stopped short as she realized what she was saying. “I’m sorry, Ali. I forgot.”

  “Yeah, only tramps tool around town,” Ali said softly, “and she says I’m a tramp.”

  “Ali, you’re no tramp. Mama says Mr. Patrick is a child molester and should be in jail for putting his hands on you. She says you were a victim—and we both know you’re not a tramp!”

  “Your mom said I was a victim, too? That’s what Mrs. Patrick said,” Ali said happily.

  “Mrs. Patrick?” Toots asked, looking puzzled.

  “Yeah, I didn’t tell you, but Mrs. Patrick came to see me, and she said the same thing your mom did. She also told me not to be ashamed because I hadn’t done anything wrong. She even hugged me. She was really nice.”