On Thin Ice

by PJ Sharon

  Bill pulled a fleece throw off the stuffed leather chair in the corner and wrapped it around my shoulders, lit up the gas fireplace, and sat back down next to me. “Did your mother ever tell you why she named you Penelope?”

  “No. Tell me.” I curled my feet under, wrapping the blanket tighter around me, anxious to hear a story that would take my mind off of everything.

  “When I first met Barbara, I was teaching literature. We were studying Homer’s Odyssey. Are you familiar with it?”

  “We’re covering the Aeneid in Latin this semester, but I think we’ll be reading the Odyssey in the spring. What does that have to do with my name?”

  “Penelope was the wife of Odysseus, and Queen of Ithaca. When Odysseus went off to war, she was left behind to rule the kingdom. At that time, it was common for suitors to come along and try to gain the kingdom by wooing the reigning Queen. If Odysseus were to return, he would be killed and the new King would take his place.”

  “That’s awful. Didn’t the Queen get a say in any of this?”

  “That’s the thing. She had very limited power, even as the Queen. You see, Penelope loved Odysseus very much. She waited for him to return for nearly twenty years. Any one of those suitors could have taken her by force and gotten control of the kingdom, but Penelope was smart. She understood the customs of the culture and she used the rules of law to challenge the suitors. She gave them tests that pitted them against one another and she made up tasks that they had no hopes of completing. She knew she couldn’t fight them all off with her physical strength, so she outsmarted them.”

  I thought about the story for a minute, matching the pieces to my life, wishing I could have been so smart. “So that still doesn’t explain why Mom named me after Penelope.”

  “She loved that story for a couple of reasons. First, because it gave her hope that someday, she and I would find our way back to each other. And second, because she believed in the power of love to overcome any obstacle. She told me she named you Penelope because she knew that any daughter of ours would be strong, smart, and have a heart full of love.” He smiled and brushed my bangs out of my eyes. “I’d say she knew you well right from the start.”

  Chapter 40

  Grampa Fred used to say that “time is relative to which side of the bathroom door you’re standing on.” He was so right. Waiting for a bathroom stall to open up during the rush between classes felt like an eternity. Otherwise it seemed like the days flew by. It’s either that, or I was walking around in a fog and not noticing life happening around me.

  What I did notice was that I was getting fatter every day. It was like this weird alien had taken over my body and it was growing faster than I could keep track of. As of my last doctor’s appointment, I had gained ten pounds. It felt like fifty, but I couldn’t think about that. My feet ached all the time, I peed a hundred times a day, and a ravenous hunger had taken over my life. The only good thing was that I finally had boobs that took the focus off my thighs.

  Sarah was right about the clothes. They weren’t at all like I thought they’d be. Other than the funky elastic waist, they fit nice and didn’t look at all like frilly girl’s clothes. But I could no longer hide my pregnancy and that created all kinds of interesting situations at school. I’d never had so much attention. Everybody wanted to touch my stomach. I would have made a fortune selling tickets if the little guy kicked on command.

  The down side was that the rape rumor had circulated, so everybody started asking questions about the baby’s father. I quickly tired of telling them it was none of their damn business. I decided to let them think what they wanted. It was either that or take out an ad in the school newspaper. My teachers treated me like I might shatter at any moment. I think they were afraid to give me a homework assignment—as if it might push me over the edge or something. Bill offered to tutor me at home for the rest of the school year, but I had to think about it. I didn’t want to run away anymore. It seemed important that I stand up for myself and finish school with my class. I had worked so hard, I didn’t want to feel like a quitter. Bill wanted me to think about college next year, but being a mom and going to school seemed like a lot to handle.

  I had some good news, though—if you could call it good. Four girls besides me came forward in the case against Tom. One of the girls actually saved her clothes from the night she was raped, so the police have forensic evidence as proof. I wished I had thought of it myself, but all I could think of when I got home that day was how much I wanted to get everything clean. I was dumb to think I could wash away what had happened to me, but I’ve learned that denial is an incredibly powerful motivator. Hiding from the truth is like trying to run away from your own reflection. Just because you can avoid a mirror, doesn’t mean your image isn’t still there, jumping out at you every time you pass a reflective surface.

  With the overwhelming testimony and evidence against him, Tom pleaded guilty. The public defender and the prosecutor cut some kind of deal, rather than put us all through a nasty trial that would last for months and cost the tax payers a lot of money. The charges were reduced to five counts of aggravated assault, risk of injury to a minor, and a bunch of other legal terms that didn’t amount to much in my book since they don’t call him what he is, which is a rapist, plain and simple. Since he had no prior offenses, the judge was lenient. Tom was sentenced right away and would be doing five to seven years in state Prison. At least it was something, and I didn’t have to testify in court.

  The prosecutor said it wouldn’t look good for the case that I was pregnant by some other guy—as if it would be so much better if it was Tom’s baby I was carrying. The defense would have no qualms about pointing me out as an unreliable witness. All I needed was some creepy lawyer calling me a tramp in front of a courtroom full of people and questioning me on an event I had no recollection of.

  I just wanted the whole thing to go away. But I knew that what had happened to me was a part of who I would always be. Bill says “You can let the trials of life make you bitter or make you better.” It sounded like something Grampa Fred would have said.

  I decided that after Christmas break, I would try out one of those rape survivor meetings that Dr. Eaton had been pushing me to attend. For all her kindness, she was a bulldog about me facing my “demons,” as she called them. My mantra for the week was “Be courageous.” She had me come up with a positive affirmation each week and write it down on sticky notes. I posted them all over the place—the bathroom mirror, the refrigerator, the dashboard of my car—so that I would see it ten times a day. She had me say it out loud, which felt really stupid, but it seemed to help. Who would have thought that I could decide what I wanted to be every day, just by speaking it into reality.

  ∞∞∞

  The bell rang. I squirmed my way out of my seat and stretched as I stood upright, holding my lower back to ease the ache. I felt like I was carrying a ten pound bowling ball strapped around my waist.

  “You want me to carry your backpack?” Sami asked. She’d been trying to make it up to me for weeks. She hadn’t meant to tell Bull about me specifically, but when she ran into him, she felt like she had to tell him what Tom was doing. When Bull asked for proof, she spilled that it had been me that had been raped. He believed her.

  “No, I’m alright.” I threw the bag over my shoulder and we headed down the hall. “I’ll be so glad to be on vacation for the next ten days.”

  “Me, too. Any big plans for Christmas break?” she asked, lighting a cigarette as we exited the building. The cold wind hit us and we pulled our jackets up around our ears. The third week into December and we hadn’t had snow yet.

  “No, just a quiet Christmas at home with Bill. Sarah and Derek are coming for dinner on Christmas day. I think Sarah might bring her girlfriend, Stephanie.” I scowled, fanning the smoke away. “You aren’t smoking that in my car.”

  “Sorry.” She took another deep drag and snubbed the butt, stuffing it back in the pack.

  “Have you
heard from Katie?” I asked, tossing my back pack into the back seat of the Honda, next to the Wendy’s bags that were collecting. I’d developed a craving for their spicy chicken sandwiches, and couldn’t get enough of them. The bags were full of the stale buns I’d left behind.

  Sami climbed in next to me. “Between her job at Friendly’s, the volunteer hours she’s putting in at the senior center, and the fancy new private school her parents transferred her to, she hardly ever calls me anymore.”

  “Me either.” I hadn’t heard from her in a couple of months. It was like she’d disappeared off the face of the earth. Days seemed a little less sunny without her being part of our little pack. “I think her parents didn’t want her around us anymore.”

  “Why not? It’s not like pregnancy is contagious. And if I hadn’t corrupted her by now, it wasn’t likely she’d take up smoking or partying her senior year.” Sami flipped her hair over her shoulder. She’d switched her streaks from blue to purple to “celebrate the solstice.”

  “I’m sure they just want what’s best for her.” I meant it, but it made me sad. I missed her. Her sweet, sprite-like energy balanced me and Sami. We weren’t quite the same without her.

  “Oh, no you don’t! You sound like a parent already. Is this what it’s going to be like when you have the baby? Are you going to become all mature and responsible? If you are, tell me now, and I’ll get out and walk home. We wouldn’t want me corrupting your kid.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that.” I glanced at her across the console.

  Her brows knit into a nervous frown. “What do you mean by that?”

  I laughed. “I mean, I’ve been thinking about the responsibilities of being a parent.” I felt her relax beside me. “I want to do this right, you know?”

  “Well, if you’re asking me for parenting advice, you’re out of your frickin’ mind. I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to raise a kid.”

  “It’s pretty scary. But part of me thinks I’ll do okay. I try not to think about it too hard. I work with the kids at the day care center and I really like being around them. It’s a lot of fun, but I’m always glad to go home.” We passed by our old elementary school and it felt like a million years ago that we’d been there. Memories of Barbie lunch boxes, jumping rope on the playground, and running the three legged races together on field day flashed through my mind, snapshots of a childhood that had once seemed like it would last forever. I adjusted my side view mirror and watched the tiny school disappear. “If I’m exhausted after three hours, what’s it going to be like when I’m responsible twenty-four, seven? They need so much attention and supervision. The other day, this kid, Matthew tried to eat a crayon. I got it away from him before he swallowed it, but I spent half an hour trying to get the spruce green Crayola out of his teeth.”

  “Kids do crazy shit.”

  “That’s helpful,” I said, shaking my head as I turned onto my old street. I passed my house, driving slow enough to notice the absence of Christmas lights on the house or any other sign that Richard’s life was continuing on without me. I wondered if he would go out and buy a fake tree now that Mom and I weren’t around to argue with him. I pushed back the anger and regret that rolled to the surface. Pangs of emotion fluttered like dying candle light in my chest, the images of my old life snuffed out like flames.

  The baby kicked, a solid thump against my ribs as if nudging me with an elbow to keep me focused on the present and future. A minute later I pulled into Sami’s driveway. She’d blown the engine on the truck and it sat dead on the side lawn. She still hadn’t saved enough money for a decent car.

  Sami turned to me, reaching for her bag in the back seat. “You are the smartest person I know, Pen. You’ll figure it all out.”

  “I hope you’re right.” I patted my belly, which brought a smile to my face. “It’s too late to change my mind now.”

  “You could give it up for adoption,” she said, her voice serious. Sami opened the door, letting a blast of frosty air into the car.

  I looked down at my growing stomach, feeling the bubbly sensation of another kick. “I don’t think I could give him up, now. I’ve gotten pretty fond of the little bugger. He’s growing on me.”

  Sami smiled. “It’s good that you have your family to help you.” She got out of the car, and turned back, her eyes gray against the winter sky. She nodded toward my belly. “He’s going to be a lucky kid to have you for a mom. See ya’ tomorrow.” She blinked back tears as she closed the door and turned her back to the wind.

  Chapter 41

  Christmas Eve Day I woke to the smell of bacon. I stretched and yawned, working myself up for climbing out from under the warm covers and into the chilly air. I squinted out the glass doors, rubbing my eyes against the bright sunshine reflecting off the snow. Snow! I popped up in bed and threw the covers back. My feet hit the cold wood floor and I jammed them into my slippers. I rushed over and pulled the drapes fully open, exposing a scene right out of a Norman Rockwell painting.

  A foot of pure white snow covered the ground below. The railing of my balcony had a six inch mound of sparkling crystalline flakes all the way around and the snow had drifted up the doors to a depth that reached to my knees. I gazed out over the lake. The leafless limbs of the trees were dressed in white and the water looked so calm and peaceful it was as if the whole world had fallen into a deep sleep. I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, fogging the glass and obscuring the image. I wiped the fog away with my hand, bringing it back as if by magic.

  Still in my flannel pajamas, I pulled a sweatshirt over my head and slipped on socks and boots. After a quick pit stop in the bathroom, I raced downstairs. Bill caught me in the hallway as I shoved my arms into the sleeves of my jacket. “What’s the hurry? I’m making breakfast.”

  “I’ll be right back. I’ve got to go out and see the snow.”

  He grinned, his face lighting up with happiness. “Have fun. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  When I opened the door, my jaw dropped. Parked in the driveway was a brand new metallic blue, Volkswagen Golf TDI, with a big yellow ribbon on the hood.

  “Merry Christmas, Sweetheart.” Bill stood behind me, looking over my head.

  “Is it mine?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

  “I couldn’t have you carting around a new baby in that old Honda. You need something safe, dependable, and economical. Do you like it?”

  “It’s fantastic!” I turned and threw my arms around his neck, fighting back tears. “Thank you so much. I promise I’ll drive carefully. I’ll take good care of it. You won’t have to worry about anything. I’ll...”

  “Slow down.” He cut me off, patting my back as he stepped away. “I trust you.” He handed me the keys. “You can take it for a spin after breakfast. Go check it out.” He nodded toward the new car. The sparkling sun shone against the blue, making the contrasting white of the snow even more beautiful.

  The air was cool and crisp, but silent without the wind. I trudged through the snow, the white powder crunching under my feet and falling to the sides as I plowed a path with my boots and climbed in behind the wheel. The new car smell permeated the air. My new baby had all the latest features. The adjustable telescoping steering wheel, the moon roof, six disk CD changer, and Satellite radio—way cool. I started her up, listening for the rumble of the diesel engine and was surprised at how quiet it was. Bill must have seen me and Sami researching cars on the internet. I’d only been dreaming about the day I could get a new car. This one was tops on my list. Forty miles to the gallon with clean diesel fuel and German engineering had beaten out all the hybrids I’d checked into. I suddenly felt like my present for Bill was seriously lacking.

  After breakfast, Bill and I went for a ride around the lake. The roads were all cleared and the day turned out to be a balmy fifty-five degrees. Not knowing when we’d get another dose of winter weather, I wanted to enjoy the crisp, fresh beauty of new fallen snow. My new car hugged the road
like a dream, handling the curves like it was made for a race track. Bill made me promise not to drive like I was on the Autobahn.

  We hung out together for the day, decorating the Christmas tree, talking about school, baking pies, and playing chess, a game that I’d never learned and that Bill was really good at. He’d taught me right after I moved in with him, and I still hadn’t beaten him, though I was getting closer.

  “Checkmate,” he said.

  I sighed. “I’m going to beat you one of these days.”

  “I have no doubt,” he grinned. “How about Scrabble? You beat me at that all the time.”

  “That’s only because you let me use Latin and Spanish words.” I sat back and propped my feet up on the coffee table, wiggling Taz’s fangs at him as he set up the scrabble board. I rubbed my round little belly, wondering if junior was sleeping or just recharging. He moved around a lot lately—probably trying to stretch me out to make room for his growing arms and legs. I didn’t really mind.

  It amazed me that I didn’t freak about the fatness, although I strictly avoided full length mirrors. I kept imagining that every pound I gained went straight to the baby. I’d added 800 calories to my daily intake without breaking a sweat. As long as I thought of myself as two separate people housing the same body, I could treat the calories and ten pounds of weight gain as if they were the baby’s and not mine.

  With all of these new ideas running around in my head, I wondered if even our thoughts were connected. It’s like I could see myself through my baby’s eyes and it helped me to see the good—to want to be healthy and strong for him. After I had been for a routine ultrasound earlier in the week, the memory played over and over in my mind.

  As the doctor moved the sound head back and forth, I noticed blurs and blobs in black and white jumping across the screen. An eerie sound like fluctuating static filled the silence. My heart fluttered in my chest, anxiously awaiting the image of the life that was growing inside of me.