Telling

by Marilyn Reynolds

  “Cassie? Come on, wake up for a minute.”

  I groaned and pushed the pillow away from my face. “What? Can’t you just leave me alone?”

  “I need to talk with you for a minute, and I’m leaving now,” Mom said. She sounded irritated with me, but I didn’t care.

  “I didn’t wake you earlier because I thought you needed your rest, but Lisa called. She wants you to call her back.”

  “Tomorrow,” I said, pulling the pillow back over my head.

  “She said it was important, something about you helping her with a math assignment for a change.” Mom laughed. “Lisa must really be desperate for help.”

  I kept the pillow over my head.

  “I think you should call her, Cassie. She always helps you.”

  “Leave me alone!” I shouted, and buried myself further under the covers and pillow.

  I felt her looking at me. I knew she was angry. But then she got up from my bed and left, closing the door behind her. Why couldn’t people just leave me alone? I wanted to stay huddled under all of my covers, with my pillow over my head. Maybe I would never want to come out. What did Lisa want? It must have been something to do with the Fred Sloane thing or why would she talk about help with a math assignment?

  About an hour after Mom left, I heard the muffled ring of our telephone, then Daddy came to my door and opened it a crack.

  “Cassie, it’s Lisa,” he said softly. I didn’t respond. “She says it’s important. Why don’t you come talk to her?”

  “I just don’t feel like it,” I told him. “I’ll call her first thing in the morning.”

  He closed the door again. I stayed burrowed under the covers. I wished I had about ten more blankets on my bed. I wanted to feel buried. Later, but before Mom came home, I thought I heard Aunt Trudy’s voice, but then I thought maybe it was a dream. It wasn’t a dream, though. The voices got louder. I started to pay attention. Just as I pulled my head out from under the pillow so I could hear better, Daddy flung open my bedroom door, turned on the light, and demanded, “Get up, Cassie! Right now!”

  Chapter

  7

  My heart sank when I saw Aunt Trudy, Uncle Tom, and Lisa sitting together on the couch in our living room. I sat on the footstool across from them. Lisa’s eyes were all red. She came over and sat beside me.

  “I had to tell, C.C. I was scared.”

  “Tell what?” I asked. Boy, can I come up with some stupid questions.

  Daddy was sitting on the edge of his chair, leaning forward. His face was practically right in front of mine.

  “Why in the hell didn’t you tell us about this Fred Sloane business, Cassie?”

  “You could have been raped. Both of you. You never know how a person like that will behave!” Aunt Trudy said.

  While she was talking I was whispering to Lisa, “Why did you tell? You promised you wouldn’t.”

  “How long has this been going on?” Daddy asked. Uncle Tom, who had been sitting with his arms folded, staring at the ceiling, stood up.

  “Les, Trudy, we can’t all talk at once. This is getting us nowhere,” he said. “Let’s hear what Cassie has to say.” Lisa was explaining to me why she told our secret, but she stopped after her dad spoke.

  “Please, I want to hear what Lisa’s telling me first,” I said.

  Lisa started over again, and everyone listened.

  “I was walking home from Diana’s after school today, and I walked past the muffler shop where Fred works. He saw me and came walking out to the sidewalk. He caught up with me and told me to tell my hot-pants cousin he knows what she wants. And he smiled this really sick smile. He started to say something else, but his boss, Mr. Casteneda, called him back. I don’t know why it scared me so much, but it did. Something about him just made me feel creepy.”

  Aunt Trudy said, “I could tell as soon as I saw her some­thing was wrong. Remember how she looked when she was learning to swim ― her little face all tight and fearful? That was the look she had when she came in this afternoon. When I heard what had been going on, I wanted to come over right away. Lisa insisted on talking to Cassie first, but when she wouldn’t come to the phone after the fifth try, we came ahead.”

  “I’m really sorry, C.C. Are you mad at me?”

  I shook my head. “I guess not, it’s just that you promised.”

  “Damn it, Cassie!” Daddy shouted. “She did exactly the right thing. She did exactly what you should have done in the very beginning!”

  I started to cry. Daddy never swears. It was a shock to hear him talk that way.

  “Who are you mad at, Les?” Uncle Tom said in his slow, deliberate way. Then he looked at me for a minute. I was crying. Everyone was quiet.

  Daddy looked at me. “I’m sorry, Cassie, if it sounds like I’m mad at you. I’m not. Tell us what happened.”

  My throat closed up. I couldn’t think of what to say.

  “Tell them how he kissed you, and how he talked to you, C.C.,” Lisa urged.

  So I did. I told them about that first night when Fred had pushed me against the wall and kissed me, and all that he’d said. I told them how Lisa and I had worked things out and how I’d thought everything would be okay when I went to Grammy’s in June.

  “When’s the last time Sloane tried anything with you?” Uncle Tom asked.

  “Last night,” I answered. I told them how Fred had come home early, and how I’d been more scared than I’d ever been before. I told them about how Robbie had kissed me with his tongue, and how he’d said that Tina and Dorian and Fred all kissed like that so it was okay.

  Aunt Trudy groaned. “He really must be some kind of pervert. Do you think we should call the police?”

  There was a long silence. “I don’t know what to do,” Daddy said. “What I want to do is go over there and beat him sense­less! I know that’s not really an answer, though.”

  Uncle Tom looked at his watch. “It’s eleven o’clock,” he announced. “We’re not going to make any decisions tonight anyway, especially without Helen. Let’s get some sleep.” He stood up to leave. We all got up. Uncle Tom came over to me and Lisa and put his arms around us both. Then Daddy and Aunt Trudy did the same thing. The five of us stood in a big hug for a minute, and then they left.

  I started to go back to my bedroom.

  “We have to wait up for your mother, Cassie,” Daddy said. “She has to hear this, too.”

  “I don’t want to tell her,” I said.

  “But you must. We’re all in this together now, and she’s got to know.”

  “Can’t you just tell her?” I asked.

  “No. You’ve got to do it. But I’ll help,” he said. Just as he said that, Mom opened the back door.

  “What a meeting! Some people are unbelievably crazy.”

  “Yeah, well wait until you hear this,” Daddy said, and began to tell the Fred Sloane story.

  “He’s been after Cassie, kissing her, putting his hands all over her, all but raping her ...” I could feel him getting mad all over again.

  “Fred Sloane?” Mom said, staring at me. “Fred Sloane?” Her voice went up so high it didn’t even sound like her.

  “Yes. Fred Sloane. When Cassie goes to babysit he takes every possible opportunity to get his filthy hands on her. Fred Sloane.” Daddy was practically yelling.

  “Why didn’t you tell us, Cassie? What’s the matter with you? Where was Angie when all this was going on?” Mom was asking questions so fast I couldn’t answer any of them.

  “Well, Cassie? Answer me. Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “I dunno,” was all I could mumble.

  “She was embarrassed,” Daddy said, “and scared. She turned to Lisa for help. That’s how I found out, just now. Trudy and Tom and Lisa just left a few minutes ago.”

  Mom just sat there, looking at me. “Exactly what did Mr. Sloane do to you, Cassie?”

  “He kissed me. And he touched me,” I mumbled.

  “Speak up, Cassie. I can’t even hear
you,” Mom said harshly.

  “Just what Dad told you,” I answered, starting to cry again. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I wanted summer to be here and to go to Grammy’s and never, ever think about Fred Sloane again. I went into the bathroom and closed the door. I didn’t really have to go. I just wanted to be by myself. I could still hear them talking though, because they were getting pretty loud.

  “Helen, it must be hard for Cassie. She’s been carrying

  this stuff around with her for a long time.”

  “Well, it’s hard for me too, Les! I don’t know what to think. How serious do you think this is?”

  “I think it’s very serious,” Daddy answered. “He’s practically raped her! And he may even be playing some sick little games with Robbie and his own kids.”

  “Oh, Les. Fred doesn’t seem the type to be doing those kinds of things. Do you think she imagined any of this?”

  “I’m sorry you were at another one of your damned meetings tonight, Helen. If you’d heard Cassie and Lisa, I don’t think you’d be taking this so lightly.”

  “Well, Lisa’s very level headed. But you know how Cassie idolizes that family. Is it possible she was so infatuated with Fred that she misinterpreted his friendliness?”

  I couldn’t believe my ears. I’d been afraid Mom might get mad at me, like it was my fault or something, or that maybe she’d never let me leave the house again. But I’d never once thought she might not believe me. I felt all hot inside, like I would explode.

  I went running into the kitchen, stopped right in front of Mom and screamed at her, “You want to know why I never tell you anything? That’s why! You don’t even believe me when I do. You don’t even trust me! You think I’m some kind of stupid liar, and I never even lie to you!”

  “Cassie,” she started, but I didn’t stop to hear anything.

  “Why don’t you call your precious Lisa and ask her what happened. You can believe her, she’s so ‘level headed’,” I mocked.

  “Cassie ...” She started again, reaching toward me.

  “You’re the one who kept making me go babysit, anyway. You don’t even care! You probably wish that Fred Sloane would kidnap me! I hate you!”

  Mom drew back her arm and slapped me hard across the mouth.

  Daddy was off his chair and between us in an instant. “That’s enough!” he said. “You owe your mother an apology, Cassie.”

  “Why? She’s the one who hit me!” I said, crying. Daddy was holding on to me with one hand and Mom with the other. He led us into the living room and sat us on the couch. Mom’s face was red and it looked like she wanted to hit me again. I wished she would.

  “It’s true,” I said to Daddy. “She likes Robbie better than she likes me, and she never listens to anything I say to her. She even likes Lisa better than she likes me, and Lisa’s not even her own kid.”

  I wanted to tell Mom I hated her again, but when I looked over at her, she was crying. I didn’t hate her anymore.

  “You don’t really believe that, do you, Cassie? That I like Robbie and Lisa better than I like you?”

  “Sometimes it seems like it,” I told her, sobbing and trying to catch my breath.

  “You know, Cassie, it’s hard for me sometimes, too. I don’t always think you like me very much, either.”

  “Yeah, but I never call you a liar.”

  “Your mother didn’t call you a liar, Cassie. Let’s not make things worse than they are,” Daddy said.

  “It’s not that I think you’re a liar, Cassie. It’s just that I can hardly believe Fred Sloane would do such a thing. I’m shocked, that’s all.”

  She asked me to go through the whole story again. I did. They talked about what to do. Just before we went to bed, Mom put her arms around me.

  “I’m sorry, Cassie. I don’t want to fight with you.”

  “I’m sorry too, Mom.”

  I didn’t want to think about what would happen next. Daddy said something had to happen with Fred Sloane. He couldn’t get away with the things he’d been doing to me.

  Chapter

  8

  Daddy was sitting on the edge of my bed. He rubbed his hand across my cheek. “Come on, Cassie. Ride down to the bank with me. I have to drop some papers off.”

  “Just let me sleep,” I whined.

  “No. I need your company. Come on.” His voice was gentle, but I could tell he meant for me to go with him, and it was no use arguing. I used to go in to his work with him a lot on Saturdays. We’d go to the bank for a while, and I’d play like I was a teller and fool around with the computer in Daddy’s office. Then we’d go out to breakfast at Clifton’s Cafeteria. But it had been a long time since we’d done that.

  We’d been driving on the freeway for about ten minutes when I realized my dad hadn’t said a word. I was so numb, I’d hardly noticed that he wasn’t talking at all. At home he watches TV a lot, but in the car he always wants to talk. I wondered if he was feeling numb, too.

  We parked in the underground lot and took the escalator to the patio of First Business Bank. It’s one of those banks that has a lot of glass and the inside looks like the lobby of some fancy hotel. Dad handed the security guard his special identification card, even though Mr. Mullins, the guard, knows him real well. Big banks have big rules.

  “Good morning, Mr. Jenkins. Can this be Cassie?”

  Mr. Mullins looked at me, smiling. “What a young lady you are now, Cassie. I wouldn’t have recognized you without your dad here.”

  “Hi, Mr. Mullins,” I mumbled. I always used to like Mr. Mullins, but I didn’t want to hear any of that “young lady how you’ve grown” talk right then.

  He opened the double doors for us and locked them be­hind us again. No one else was inside, and Dad took my hand and led me over to a bench at the edge of the big planter area. I thought how much bigger the rubber trees were than when I last saw them. Dad sat down on the bench and motioned for me to sit down beside him. When I did, he put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close to him. He was quiet for a moment, then he said, “I thought about you all last night, after I went to bed. I was so angry when I heard what Sloane had been doing to you that, at first, I wasn’t exactly thinking about you. You know?”

  I nodded my head.

  “I love you a lot, Cassie. I’m so sorry about what’s happened with Sloane. I keep thinking, what a terrible introduction to sex you’ve had. My heart aches.” He looked at me for a long time. Then he put his other arm around me, too, and pulled me against his chest. It was nothing like the way Fred Sloane had pulled me to him.

  “I’m so ashamed that you couldn’t come to me for help ― that you had to turn to Lisa. I feel so guilty ― like such a failure. But I want you to know that I’m with you, on your side, no matter what. I'll take care of you. Everything’s going to be all right.”

  He was hugging me real tight. I knew he meant what he was saying. It was such a relief to me, to feel safe, that it felt like something inside of me started to come loose. I began to cry, but I was crying with my whole body. I was shaking and crying and gasping for air all at the same time.

  “Shhh, shhh,” Daddy said, stroking my hair and rocking me back and forth. “It’s all right. It’s going to be all right.”

  He kept rocking me like that and holding me tight, and when I finally stopped gasping and shaking, I knew that Daddy was crying, too. I could feel his tears in my hair, where he’d kind of buried his head, and I felt him catch his breath. I reached my arms around his chest and held on even tighter. I didn’t know which one of us was doing the rocking then, but I felt a kind of layer lift, like one of the covers I’d buried myself under, only this was maybe a layer of numbness.

  Finally Daddy asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I don’t know. I was afraid to, I guess.”

  He reached behind him and took a handful of rich, moist dirt from the planter and let it sift through his fingers.

  “Do you remember how you used to
play in this dirt when the building was brand new? You’d make little roads and houses with pebbles, and be filthy in five minutes. And then when I was finished and ready to take you to eat, I’d carry you into the men’s room and stand you in one of the sinks and practically give you a bath. And you loved drying off with the warm air nozzle. Things were easier when you were three.”

  “I guess they were. I liked it here on Saturdays.”

  He told me about when I was born, some stuff I’d heard before, but it seemed almost like a new story, the way he told it then.

  “I was there when you were born, Cassie. I wore a sterile gown and mask, and I coached your mother so she’d breathe right. I saw you emerge, head first, like some kind of miracle. As soon as I saw your head, I was pulling for you. In my heart I was saying ‘breathe, breathe, move, move, live, live,’ and in an instant you were gasping and crying and moving your legs and arms around. You were all red and wrinkly and beautiful. I was filled with the purest kind of love I’d ever experienced. I wanted to shout my thanks to God, or the Great Life Force, or whatever was behind this grand and glorious design that brought you to me. The nurse cleaned you and wrapped you in a soft, light blanket, and put you in my arms. I held you close to me and swore to be the best father to you that a girl could ever have.”

  He shook his head slowly, looking at me, and then put his hands over his face and began to cry again. I leaned as close to him as I could get. I’d never seen him cry before that day, except once a long time ago when his friend Victor had been killed in a car wreck.

  I put my hand on his back and felt him hold his breath and let go, hold his breath and let go, the way I do sometimes when I’m trying to stop crying.

  “When I first held you, I thought of all the mistakes my father had made, and I knew I would never make those mistakes with you. You were so helpless and tiny and perfect. I loved your knuckles ― they were tiny and fragile but they func­tioned without a hitch. Your toes and fingers, knees and nose and little puckering ready-to-suck mouth - I was in awe of it all. I loved watching you grow, learn to focus your eyes, use your hands, laugh. That first laugh ― you were a wonder to me, Cassie.” He looked at me and smiled. “You are still a wonder to me.”