The Abuse of Ashley Collins

by Athan, Jon

  The family regrouped in the living room. Jane sat on the three-seat sofa with Calvin, smiling as she caressed his hair. The boy vacantly stared at the windows behind the television on the other side of the room, focused on the slits of moonlight pouring through the blinds. He hid Ashley's 'contraband' under his shirt as he waited for his father.

  Logan walked into the living room from the kitchen archway, drying his face with a white towel. After the brutal beating he inflicted on his daughter, he needed a minute to recompose himself – a minute to cleanse his mind of the negativity. He tossed the moist towel over his shoulder, then he fell into the recliner.

  The man sighed, then he asked, “How did it go, kiddo? Did you find anything in your sister's room?” Calvin turned towards his father and nodded – yes. Logan returned the nod and said, “Good, good. So... what did you find?”

  Calvin gazed into his father's eyes. He did not witness the abuse in the basement, but he could see his father changed. He glanced at his mother and noticed the same. His parents were physically the same, but their personas changed. It was a subtle change, though, and he couldn't put his finger on it.

  Calvin asked, “What's going to happen to Ashley?”

  Jane stroked the loose hairs away from his brow and said, “She's going to be staying in the basement for a while, sweetie. It's for her own good. We don't want her to hurt herself, you, or anyone else while we're trying to help her. Don't worry, okay?” Calvin remained quiet – anxious and uncertain. Jane gently shook his shoulder and said, “Hey, listen to me. Whatever you found in her room, it's not your fault. She made the choice to break the rules. And, by helping us, you're helping her. Don't forget that.”

  Chiming-in, Logan leaned forward and said, “We're just trying to 'fix' your sister. Kinda like when Aunt Steph went to rehab last year. You remember that, right? Well, we're doing something similar here at home.”

  Calvin remembered his Aunt Stephanie's abrupt absence from his life the year prior. She was a drug addict, always itching for another hit and constantly begging for money. She even stole Calvin's birthday money when he was younger. After a few months in rehab, however, she returned healthy. It worked for her, so it should work for Ashley, he thought.

  He decided to reveal his findings, one-by-one. He reached under his shirt and grabbed the cigarettes. He inhaled deeply, then he placed the white pack on the coffee table.

  Wide-eyed, Jane shouted, “I knew it! I could smell the smoke from our room and in the garden, but I thought it was one of the neighbors' kids or that damn Tyler. I was so stupid!”

  “Don't blame yourself, hun. This is good. It's real good,” Logan responded. He nodded at his son and asked, “What else did you find, kiddo?”

  Calvin inhaled deeply again as he tried to prepare himself. He reached under his shirt, then he pulled the box of condoms out. He closed his eyes as his mother gasped. He couldn't stand to see their reactions, so he blindly placed the box on the table next to the cigarettes.

  Logan glared at the box of condoms, furious. He could handle the cigarettes, scoffing at the health hazards caused by the cancer sticks, but the condoms sent him into a tailspin of rage. He harbored an irrational fear of sex – like the Motion Picture Association of America's horrible movie rating system. He could only imagine his daughter's deviant sexual activities.

  Struggling to control his anger, Logan said, “Well, that's that. She always tried to lie about it. 'We were just making out,' but I knew she was doing more. I can catch them naked in my house, but she'd still lie and try to make me look like the bad guy. She can't lie her way out of this one. It's... It's irrefutable.”

  Jane, equally unnerved by the condoms, stuttered, “A–At least she's using protection, right?”

  “A whore with protection is still a whore...”

  Logan bit his tongue and leaned back in his seat as he caught a glimpse of his son. Around his family, he tried his best to set a good example. At heart, he was a man with a vulgar mouth and a dark soul; on the surface, he was a proud and kind man.

  Logan said, “I'm sorry, kiddo. I just... I lost myself for a moment. Don't worry. I'm still here...” He moved the box of condoms and pack of cigarettes closer to him. He asked, “Did you find anything else? You didn't find a gun, did you? I don't know what these kids are thinking these days...”

  Calvin hid the last piece of evidence in his pocket. He pondered the lessons his sister would learn at the hands of his parents. What could they do to her because of a fake ID?–he thought. He didn't have the answer, so he could only rely on his trusting relationship with his parents.

  He pulled the ID card out of his pocket, placed it on the table, then he leaned back on the sofa. The burden was lifted from his shoulders.

  Jane frowned as she stared at the plastic card. She said, “Oh, God... What could she possibly need a fake ID for? Huh? What... What sort of trouble could she be getting into? Going to nightclubs? Buying cigarettes and beers for all of her friends? If she did that, then... then we'll be the laughing stock of the community. Everyone will be talking about us.”

  “I know,” Logan bluntly responded. “We shouldn't be assuming anything, though. For all we know, she could have been planning to run away and change her identity. You did good, Cal. You saved your sister and this family. You will be rewarded, too. I promise.”

  Calvin did not respond. Although he had been begging for a new game console for months, the promise of a reward did not excite him. He was conflicted by a mishmash of emotions. On one hand, he felt as if he really saved his sister – he stopped her from running away, he stopped her from contracting cancer. On the other hand, he couldn't imagine the inevitable abuse he brought to his sister.

  Still flustered by the findings, Jane asked, “Logan, what are we going to do about all of this?”

  “Well, now that we know she broke our rules, we can teach her some... some personalized lessons. I'll think of a worthy punishment for Ashley, I just need a little bit of time – at least one night. I think she's had enough for one day anyway. Let her squirm for a while. Let her think about what she's done.”

  Jane sighed and nodded in agreement – fine. The family separated after the meeting. Calvin went to his room to brood over his actions, Jane went to the bathroom upstairs to shower, and Logan went to the kitchen for a snack – all while Ashley continued to weep in the dungeon.

  Chapter Ten

  A Good Morning

  A heart-shaped marshmallow sailed from one side of the bowl to the other with each ripple in the milk. The remaining toasted oat pieces and marshmallows became soggy. Calvin didn't have much of an appetite, so he wasn't in a hurry to finish his cereal. Instead, he stared down at the bowl with a blank expression – lost and worried.

  The house was finally silent. His father was not yelling or muttering. His mother was not mumbling or weeping. His sister was not slamming doors or running through the house like a rat searching for the exit of a maze. The newfound tranquility was unusually eerie – peace at the end of a long war was difficult to accept, especially for a surviving soldier.

  Calvin glanced over at the window above the sink. To his utter surprise, he could hear birds chirping outside. The merry sound was rare in his home due to his family's usual arguing. It was difficult to understand, but, for a moment, he believed he woke up in a dream. The best dream I ever had, he thought, or is it just another nightmare? His trance was broken by his father's voice.

  Leaning on the kitchen counter near the sink with a mug in his right hand, Logan said, “It's a beautiful morning, isn't it? It's... It's peaceful. Peace – I haven't felt that in a long time. It's a strange feeling. It feels good, though. It feels great.”

  His mind was clear. The bank of fog clouding his mind was finally whisked away. The poisonous pessimism that crippled his resolve was siphoned from his body. He could think clearly. Yet, he was not perturbed by the abuse he inflicted upon his daughter. His clear mind – his ability to think rationally – did not sway h
im away from his violent plans.

  As a matter of fact, the man was eager to continue the abuse. He smirked and sipped his coffee, waiting for his opportunity to punish Ashley.

  Jane sat in a chair beside Calvin and read a newspaper, the pages rustling with each slight movement. Her eyes, wide and zany, glided over the local news. She sneered in disgust as she stumbled upon a particular article.

  Without taking her eyes off of the paper, Jane said, “Listen to this, Logan: a 25-year-old mother was found in the driver's seat of her car, syringe-in-hand, with her baby in the backseat.” She shook her head as she closed the paper. She said, “Unbelievable. This is what's happening in our world today. No, in our city. This isn't some third-world country it's happening in. It's our city. These young tramps are messing with drugs and forgetting their responsibilities., trying to stay cool forever while their families suffer. It's ridiculous.”

  Logan responded, “You're right. You are absolutely right, sweetheart. That young woman... She probably didn't have parents to show her the right way. Just like her, her parents probably thought it would be 'cool' to raise her without rules.”

  “It's not right. These kids need discipline. They shouldn't be overdosing in the streets.”

  “All I know is: things are going to start changing. Here, there, everywhere. Our kids need to be taught, not coddled. I'm glad you found that article, sweetheart. This is a wake-up call. Let's hope more parents start answering.”

  Calvin stared at his father, amazed by his speech. He didn't understand the underlying message, but he could see his father was serious. However, he was more concerned by his neglect of Ashley. His parents spoke as if there were nothing wrong in the basement. He didn't want to end up like his sister, though, so he bit his tongue and turned his attention to his soggy cereal.

  Logan sipped his coffee, then he asked, “What are you doing today, Cal? Have any big plans?”

  Calvin shrugged and responded, “I don't know. I guess I'll probably hang out with Chris and Tony. I'll go to the park or the mall... or somewhere. I'm not sure.”

  “I'm not sure how I feel about you spending time with those boys. One of them was held back and the other just doesn't seem right,” Jane said as she leaned closer to her son. She caressed his hair and wiped the milk from the side of his mouth with her thumb. She said, “I'm afraid you'll just get yourself into some serious trouble. We don't want that for you, baby.”

  Logan said, “I think it's fine if he spends time with the boys.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. You know how it is, Jane. I used to hang out around the mall all the time when I was younger. We'd even go into abandoned buildings and... well, we'd hang out. I think it's better this way anyway. A little bit of trouble-making, if it even happens, is better than a lot of trouble. You wouldn't want the boy to bottle it up and let it all burst out one day, would you?”

  “I guess you're right...”

  Calvin wasn't interested in his father's tales of misbehavior. He shook his head and gritted his teeth. The anxiety flowing through his body was overwhelming, waiting to burst out of him.

  He grimaced and asked, “Dad, what... what about Ashley? Huh? What are you doing to her? What's going on?”

  Logan and Jane became silent. The couple glanced at each other, stony-faced. Ashley – the name was forbidden during the abuse process. The parents equated their daughter's name with the most vulgar racial slurs. They just weren't ready to hear it.

  Logan sat beside his son and leaned forward. He said, “Listen, kiddo, we're going to continue teaching your sister a few lessons. You remember all of those things you found in her room? Well, we're going to use everything you found to teach her. We're going to teach her about safe sex, tobacco and cancer, and breaking the law. And, while we do that, I want you to have a good time. You understand me? I want you to forget about all of this. I don't even want you to spend a second thinking about it.”

  Calvin asked, “Is she going to be okay?”

  “Of course she is, sweetie,” Jane responded. “We don't want to hurt her, we just want to help. I promise, I'm going to keep a close eye on her to make sure she's okay throughout the day. I won't let anything bad happen to her.”

  “Can... Can I tell anyone?”

  “Why on earth would you want to do that?”

  Calvin shrugged and said, “I don't know. I mean, what if someone asks me about her? Some of my friends know her, so do I just tell them? Do I–”

  “No,” Logan interrupted. He patted his son's shoulder and said, “Don't tell anyone for now. Just say she's busy. You don't want anyone interrupting her as she gets better. Remember, it's just like Aunt Steph's rehab. And, like Aunt Steph's rehab, this is a family secret.”

  Logan could see the doubt in his son's glimmering eyes. Like a spineless informant, the boy wouldn't hesitate to squeal at the first sign of trouble. His parents knew him very well – they raised him after all. So, they knew he did not function properly under pressure.

  What was the best way to temporarily reduce anxiety? Escapism.

  Logan pulled out his wallet and said, “You should try to have a good day today, Calvin. I know you're worried, but we just need you to relax. Stress isn't good for you at such a young age, buddy.” He placed a twenty-dollar bill on the table and slid it closer to the bowl of cereal. He said, “Here. Go catch a movie with your friends, grab a bite to eat, find something to do. Okay?”

  Calvin stared at the money with wide eyes. For as long as he could remember, his father always gave him five dollars whenever he asked for money. The twenty-dollar bill was clearly a bribe to buy his silence, but he didn't know any better. He figured he was being rewarded for his good detective work during the previous day. He also sincerely believed his parents were going to take care of his sister.

  Like most children his age, he was naive.

  Calvin shoved the money into his pocket and said, “Thanks. I'll be back at the same time.”

  “Before sundown, right?” Jane asked, anxious.

  “Yeah, before sundown. Bye.”

  Logan and Jane watched as their son walked out of the house. The sound of the door closing was inexplicably comforting – peace, security, privacy.

  Logan stood from his seat and said, “Wait in the living room and keep a lookout. I don't want him to come back while I'm working.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I have to feed the girl.”

  Logan grabbed Calvin's bowl of cereal and a spoon. He smirked and winked at his wife, then he walked towards the basement. Jane sighed as she trudged towards the front door. She locked the door, then she marched towards the sink – ready to wash the dishes to keep a semblance of normality in the house.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sex Education

  “Let me go,” Ashley sternly demanded. She watched as her father strolled down the stairs with a bowl of cereal. She sneered in disgust and said, “You won't get away with this. You can't get away with it. Everyone is going to find out. Our family, our neighbors, the police... The entire world will know about this. You understand that, don't you? Don't you?!”

  Logan stopped in front of the support beam, calm and collected. His daughter had a point: if he didn't 'fix' her, she would tell the world about his deeds. Yet, he wasn't worried about the law or his image. The abuse from the previous day remained on his mind, but it was growing on him. Torture was becoming normal.

  Shrugging off the threat, Logan said, “You can drop the act, Ashley. You can't do anything about this. No matter how hard you try to break free or how loud you scream, you are going to have to listen to your parents. For the first time in your entitled little life, you're going to have to listen and grow. Strange, isn't it?”

  “You're a psychopath. You–You're just sick. You're not teaching me anything. You're just relieving your stress 'cause you don't know what else to do. You're blaming me for all of your problems. That's all.”

  “That's wrong. We're n
ot going to go over this a million times. This is for you and the family. It's not for me, it's not for your mother, it's for us. Now, I bet you're hungry, so I brought you some cereal. Come on, let's get some food in your tummy.”

  Logan scooped the soggy cereal with the spoon. He held the spoon over his shoulder, then he made childish train noises with his mouth – chooga, chooga, chooga, choo, choo! He patronized her for his own sick pleasure. Milk dripped from the spoon and plopped on the ground as he pushed the eating utensil closer to Ashley's mouth.

  Ashley opened her mouth and accepted the food. Tears streamed down her rosy cheeks with each blink as she chewed the cereal. Her tears were a result of anger, though – pure anger.

  Logan smiled smugly and said, “Yeah. That's a good girl. Is that good for you, baby?” Ashley continued to chew. Logan said, “If it's good, you should say 'thank you.' Show some respect. Come on, you can do it.”

  Ashley huffed and rolled her eyes, then she spat at Logan's face. A blob of chewed toasted oats and marshmallows blended with milk landed on the bridge of his nose. Logan closed his eyes and clenched his jaw as the cereal rolled down his nose and lips. He gently chuckled as the food plummeted to the floor.

  Under his breath, he murmured, “Show some respect...”

  He held the bowl over his daughter's head, then he dumped the cereal on her dome. The milk soaked her wild hair and cascaded across her face like rain on a windshield. Ashley gasped as the icy milk drenched her head and shirt. She shivered and coughed, cold and humiliated.

  The girl stuttered, “I–I'm going to... to tell them everything. You hear me? This... This is going to get you in so much trouble. You don't even know.”

  “I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing, sweetheart. To you, it may seem like I'm being rude or mean, but I'm just trying to make up for all of those years I let you slide. I'm playing catch-up, Ashley, so I have to teach you with a heavy hand. Please, understand that.”