by Nancy Thayer
“Look at her!” he said to his father. “Now she’s happy. She’s fucking with my life and now she’s happy.”
Emily cried, “I am not fucking with your life. I just want my own life—”
Bruce interrupted her. “You’ve always been jealous of me. Now you want to take everything away from me.” He turned to Owen. “Don’t you see, Dad? She’s just a conniving bitch. She wants to keep me from getting into Westhurst. She wants to stop Alison from liking me. She wants to stop everyone from liking me. Christ, Alison will freak out if she hears this shit!”
“Bruce, Bruce,” Linda said, as if calling to him across a sudden void. “Honey, why are you saying this? Why would Emily want to hurt you?”
Bruce looked at his stepmother, anguish in his eyes. “I don’t know! Maybe she’s pissed off because I never hang out with her anymore. You know, like on the farm, this summer, I think Emily and her friends …” He looked away, suddenly embarrassed.
“Had crushes on you guys?” Linda suggested.
“Yeah. And you know, we weren’t interested. I mean they’re all so young. Like they wanted us all to go on a picnic at the hilltop. And we wouldn’t. But we weren’t cruel or anything. We just ignored them …”
“You are such an asshole,” Emily said.
Bruce glared at Emily. “You have always been on my case, ever since you moved to the farm. You hate it that it’s my farm, that you don’t have any place that’s yours. You’re like some kind of spook, following me everywhere, wanting anything that’s mine.”
“You are so sick,” Emily spat.
“Yeah, well, I went to Hedden first. Where did you go? You had to go to Hedden, too, didn’t you? I mean, did you seriously even consider going anywhere else? No. And now you can’t stand it that my friends are higher-classed than yours …”
“Oh, please,” Emily snarled.
“And I’m more popular than you, my grades are better … you just can’t stand it! You want to do some damage to me. Admit it! You want people to think you’re better than I am.”
“Oh, you’re clever, Bruce, you’re really clever,” Emily retorted. “Turning it around, making people think I’m crazy, but it won’t work, because I’m not crazy. They’ve tested me. I’m not nuts. I’m angry. And I’m a fucking survivor. You probably wished I was dead, but I’m not. I’m not going to die and I’m not going to lie any more about what you did.”
“You stupid bitch,” Bruce growled, shaking his head in disgust.
“Stop this,” Linda ordered.
Then they all were silent. Bruce’s leg jiggled frenetically. Emily tore at her thumb.
Linda looked at Dr. Travis. “What now?”
Dr. Travis cleared her throat. “Now we take a break. Give ourselves time. Emily has come a long way today. She has overcome great difficulties and accomplished a major task by confronting her rapist.”
“I didn’t rape the stupid b—”
“Bruce.” Owen’s voice was iron.
Dr. Travis continued. “This took an immense amount of strength and courage. But that doesn’t mean Emily’s through with her work yet. She’s got to confront all the emotions engendered by such a violent act. She’s got to deal with her rage and her sorrow and her sense of betrayal. She’s got to talk through her feelings. Her strong sense of guilt.”
Owen pounced. “Wait a minute. If Bruce raped her, why does she feel guilt?”
Dr. Travis answered, “As I’ve said before, it’s common for rape victims to feel guilty. To feel that they caused the rape somehow. Brought it on by, perhaps, their physical attractiveness …”
“Yeah, right,” Bruce snorted.
Owen shot a look at his son.
“By her own fantasies of romance. By being weak. Just by being there. It’s not rational, but I assure you, it is common. Now Emily has to learn where she can find her power, power to return to the world, power to deal with men, especially power to love. To love herself, to love her family. An enormous task is before her. Enormous. Later perhaps she’ll be able to take part in sessions with you and one day even Bruce, but not yet. And frankly, Bruce is going to need some counseling, and the sooner he faces this, the better.”
Owen said, “In spite of everything Bruce has said, you believe Emily.”
Dr. Travis looked at him levelly. “Yes.”
“I’m out of here,” Bruce said, rising. “I don’t need to sit and listen to this shit.”
“Yes, I think it would be best if you left now,” Dr. Travis coolly agreed. “Our time is almost up.”
Owen rose. “I’ll drive you back to Hedden.” Looking at Linda, he said, “Then I’ll come back here.” A thought struck him. “Dr. Travis, again I have to remind you that I am adamant that this … this accusation doesn’t leave this room. If my son’s reputation is ruined, I’ll take legal action.”
“Mr. McFarland, I can assure you as I have before, no one discusses our patients outside of this ward.”
Owen looked at Emily. “And what about you, Emily? What are you saying, what will you say, to your friends?”
Emily’s face contracted into a sneer. “That’s all you care about, isn’t it, your precious son’s precious reputation. You don’t care that he raped me. You don’t care at all!” She began to cry again.
Owen held out his hands, palms up. “Emily, I do care a great deal about you. I’m terribly upset about this. I want to help you as much as I can. But at the moment I’m not sure what I can do to help. In the meantime …”
“Oh, go on,” Emily spat. “I won’t tell anyone at Hedden. I promise.” Then she cut her eyes at Bruce. “Not yet.”
Owen looked at his wife. “I’ll drive Bruce to Hedden, then come back here, okay?”
Linda asked Dr. Travis, “Is there anything else we can do here today?”
“I don’t think so. Emily needs to rest, and to spend some time with the group in therapy. Let’s keep in touch by phone. Oh, and Linda, we have Family Group every Wednesday evening. Could you come?”
Before anyone could reply, Emily said, “I don’t want Owen to come.”
Owen and Linda looked at each other.
Linda said, “Emily, honey …”
“Forget it. I don’t want either of you to come.”
Linda said, “Emily. Look … I’ll come.” She glanced at Owen whose face was like thunder. “I’ll come alone.”
“I’m taking Bruce back to Hedden.” Owen put his hand on his son’s shoulder and ushered him out of the room. To Linda, he said, “I’ll meet you out front when I return.”
Linda nodded.
Then the three women sat in silence.
Linda turned to Dr. Travis. “Is there any way we can make Bruce admit … what he did?”
Dr. Travis shook her head. “There’s no way to provide absolute proof. If Emily had reported it to the police immediately, and they’d been able to take a sample of the semen, and photographed the bruises, then there would be proof. As it is now, even a doctor’s certificate saying that Emily is no longer a virgin is not sufficient proof that she was raped.”
Linda took a moment to gather her thoughts, to put them in order. Then, taking her daughter’s hands in her own, she said, “Emily, I need to say this, just once. You must forgive me for asking, but I think you understand the magnitude of your accusation. Are you telling us the truth when you say that Bruce raped you?” Before Emily could reply, she rushed on, “If you were lying, I’ll forgive you, you know I will. It would be such a relief.”
Emily said, “I am telling the truth. Bruce really did rape me. I swear he did. What do you want me to do? How the fuck can I prove it to you?”
“It’s all right, Emily. I won’t ask you again.” Linda tried to put her arms around her daughter. “I’m so sorry.”
Emily shrugged away. “Go on. Leave,” she said, her voice harsh. “Just get out of here. Go off with your husband and leave me alone.”
There was no choice. At the moment that was exactly what Linda had to
do.
First she used the pay phone to call Dean Lorimer, who assured them that Emily’s homework would be sent to the hospital.
“We’re close enough to the end of the semester. And Emily’s a bright student,” Dean Lorimer told her. “Her teachers have agreed that she can finish the courses if she does the required reading and writes the necessary essays.”
“Thank you,” Linda said.
“No problem. And good luck to you all.”
As soon as they’d slammed the doors of the Volvo, shutting themselves into their private world, Owen said, “What’s going on, Bruce?”
He turned to his father, his face creased in distress. “Dad, honestly, I don’t know!”
“Did you make Emily mad? Is she trying to get back at you for something?”
“No. This is just a nightmare. It’s like Kafka. I wake up and she’s telling lies about me.”
“There must be a reason.”
“Well, I told you. She’s jealous of me.”
“I can’t see that.”
“Great. So you believe her.”
“I didn’t say that. I just don’t see Emily as so jealous of you that she’d do something like this.”
To Owen’s dismay, Bruce’s shoulders buckled and he bent over, head nearly touching his knees.
“Son.” Owen reached over to rub Bruce’s shoulders.
“I can’t believe you don’t believe me. I swear I didn’t do anything,” Bruce cried.
“All right. All right.”
“I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t get it. It’s just fucked.”
“It doesn’t help if you swear.”
“What does help?” Bruce asked, his voice savage. Raising his head, he took the handkerchief his father offered and blew his nose. “I’ve got a shitload of schoolwork to do. I’ve got to write a really great essay for my application to Westhurst. I’ve got the interview coming up in December. I’ve got to keep my grades up. Everyone says it’s the hardest semester of my school career, and now Emily does this … this psycho act.” Roughly he blew his nose, then continued, “Plus, shit, I really like Alison. I mean, Dad, I really like her. If Emily fucks this up for me …” Bruce’s knee was jiggling with nerves and suddenly his voice broke as it had when he was younger. “Dad, what am I going to do?”
They’d arrived at Hedden. The grounds were empty; it was lunchtime. Still, Owen only put his hand on his son’s shoulder though he wanted to hug the boy up against him.
“We’ll get through this. Try to forget it for now.”
“Sure,” Bruce said dejectedly and left the car.
Owen called out to him, “We’ll call when something changes.”
“Right.”
Owen watched Bruce race off toward his dorm. When his son was out of sight, he still sat, working to control his breath, not sure when he’d been so close to tears.
Linda was waiting for him under the hospital portico when he returned.
She sank into the car. “I’m exhausted.”
“I know. What now?”
“I guess you and I return to the farm.”
“And?”
“And Emily will remain in the hospital, working with Dr. Travis and the other staff. I called Dean Lorimer. He’s going to see that her homework is brought to her every few days.”
“Who’s going to bring her the homework?”
Linda shrugged. “Her friends. She is allowed visitors.”
Owen’s jaw tensed. “If Emily tells her friends …”
“Owen, Emily has promised not to discuss the rape with anyone at Hedden.”
“Can we trust her?”
“She promised us …”
“Still … she’s so angry at Bruce. She seems out to get him.”
“Owen, it was Bruce who harmed Emily.” She softened her voice. “But I’m sure she won’t talk about this to anyone at Hedden. I do trust her.”
“Do you think she’s telling the truth? About the rape?”
Linda sighed and rubbed her temples. “I think so, Owen. How can we ever know for sure? I can’t believe she would lie about something like this. But I never would have believed that Bruce would have spoken to her as he did.”
“Well, he has a right to be angry.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Oh, Owen, what’s happened? I thought we’d done such a good job! I never dreamt there was such animosity between the two of them. It’s absolutely shattering!”
“I suppose a certain amount of rivalry and antagonism exists in any family. You and I were only children, so we don’t have the experience, but I can remember how my friends in high school used to get into wicked fights with their sisters or brothers.”
“Well, sure, and Bruce and Emily did, too; they had plenty of squabbles, that’s normal. But this … this is incomprehensible.”
They rode for a while in silence, occupied with their own thoughts, and then Owen said, “So what can we do?”
“I guess we can only wait.”
They said nothing else during the ride home, but kept cold company with their own separate thoughts.
Chapter Seventeen
After lunch, Bruce found Alison waiting for him in their usual place, a soundproof practice room in the basement of the theater arts building. Alison was a pianist, so she had access to the rooms, which unfortunately had small windows in the doorway through which mistrustful school staff often peered, hoping to find someone smoking pot or committing some other kind of crime. Alison perched on the piano bench while Bruce sat on the floor in the far corner, hidden from the window by the piano.
“You weren’t in biology.”
“My parents came for me. Took me to see Emily.”
“How is she?”
Bruce shrugged. “Not good. She’s—” To his chagrin, tears filled his eyes. “She’s hallucinating or something. Making up weird stories about people. I think she’s nuts.”
Alison left the piano bench and knelt next to Bruce, taking his hands in hers. “Oh, poor Bruce. You’re so sweet. Don’t be so sad. She’ll be all right.” She wrapped her arms around him and suddenly Bruce found his head nestled against her breasts. She smelled of some wonderful perfume.
“Sometimes I think my entire family is crazy,” Bruce said.
Alison laughed. He could hear the laugh inside her chest. “I know my family is. That’s why God created boarding schools.” She began to kiss the top of his head. “It will be all right. I promise.”
He let himself be consoled. He tried to believe she was right.
Dessert that night was not more stale pumpkin pie but ice cream and sauces they could heat in the microwave, and two cans of whipped cream as well.
They sat at their table, Keith, Cynthia, Arnold, Emily, and fat Bill. Those gathered around the other table were quiet, tranqued, or flipped into a world of their own.
“Come on, Cynthia,” Keith teased, waving a spoon of hot fudge sauce beneath her nose. “Remember, chocolate is a drug.”
“Get out,” Emily said.
Bored, Cynthia intoned, “Chocolate metabolizes into the same chemicals as marijuana.”
“Hey, we grown-ups don’t go for those government-approved baby drugs,” Arnold said.
“No fair!” Keith yelled suddenly. “Look at Bill! He’s got all the Marshmallow Fluff!”
They all looked at Bill, who wrapped his giant paws possessively around the blue-and-white jar.
“Bill, you have to share that,” Keith declared.
Bill held the jar to his chest.
“Come on, Keith, give the guy a break,” Arnold said.
“Do you really want it now?” Cynthia asked in a low voice. “I think Bill’s pretty much bonded with it.”
“You can have some,” Bill said to Emily, surprising them all.
“That’s all right. Thanks anyway.”
“No. You have some.”
“That’s—” Emily began to refuse again, but Cynthia kicked her beneath the table. “Well, thanks.” While every
one watched speechlessly, Bill rose to plop a spoonful of white fluff into her bowl.
On her other side, Keith whispered, “I think this means you two are engaged.”
“Hey, Beldon!” Arnold yelled to their night nurse, who was helping himself to his own bowl of ice cream. “Bill gave Emily some Marshmallow Fluff!”
“My man!” Beldon yelled.
“Emily?”
“Who’s Heidi?” Cynthia asked sardonically.
Emily looked up to see Cordelia’s sweet face peering around the doorway from the corridor. Cordelia had obviously gotten dressed up for the visit. She wore a Laura Ashley dress of printed, smocked, lace-trimmed cotton, and her long blond hair was braided and tied with red ribbons. She made Emily vividly aware of her mustache of white fluff, which probably made her look insane, like she was foaming at the mouth. Blotting her lips roughly, she rose.
“Cordelia, hi. Come in.”
Timidly Cordelia approached, staring at Emily’s tablemates with such obvious apprehension that it was insulting. “Am I … interrupting something?”
“Yeah, we’re right in the middle of electric shock therapy,” Cynthia said sarcastically, and with an abrupt shove of her chair, rose and left the table.
“Cynthia …” Emily said. “Wait.”
“Hey, Emily!” Zodiac flew in the door. She wore jeans and a black turtleneck sweater and a gold stud in her nose. She threw herself around Emily. “God, I’ve missed you. When are you coming back? What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m going to stay here a while. Look, I want you to meet some friends … guys, this is Zodiac, my roomie at Hedden, and this is Cordelia, my other roomie. This is Bill, and Keith, and Arnold, and Cynthia.” She had to walk over and grab Cynthia’s arm and pull her back into the room.
“What are you guys eating?” Zodiac wouldn’t be shy if she woke up to find herself on Mars. “Can I have some? Oh, wow, why can’t we ever make our own sundaes?”
“Would you like to make your own sundae, Cordelia?” Emily asked.
“No, thanks.” She was still shy, but even so she managed to seat herself next to Keith, who was much more handsome than Bill or Arnold.