The Queen’s Code

by Alison A Armstrong

  “Kimberlee, I love you with all my heart. I have waited all these years hoping that what happened to you as a child would mend, hoping life and love would heal you.”

  Kimberlee's head shot up, eyes flaring in the dim light. “You know what happened to me?”

  Claudia shook her head sadly. “Not specifically. I only guessed after you changed drastically from the happy-go-lucky spirit I knew to a quiet, reserved, suspicious child. I have since studied the effects of child molestation a great deal, in the off chance that I might one day be able to help you.”

  Tears rolled down Kimberlee's cheeks. “I can't talk about it,” she choked out.

  Claudia put her hand on top of Kimberlee's and felt her stiffen. “You do not have to, if you do not want to. My only request is that you give me a chance to share what I have learned and concluded. It could set you free.”

  Kimberlee suddenly grabbed the box of tissues and cradled them in her lap. She nodded, “Okay.”

  Claudia sent up a silent prayer. To Kimberlee she said, “Forgive me if I am not as articulate about this as I am in our lessons. I have never shared my observations with a victim before.”

  Kimberlee eyes narrowed at the word “victim” but she nodded again.

  “As near as I can tell, the process of child molestation is one of the cruelest results of human instinct and human need colliding.”

  Kimberlee was clearly surprised by this opening statement.

  “As a female, the instinct to please and avoid displeasing is incredibly powerful. Our instincts tell us that our lives depend upon being liked, being found agreeable, and not upsetting or disappointing anyone. Grown women find it difficult to say ‘no’ when there is the slightest chance it will anger a man.

  “Add to that the instincts of being ‘smaller and weaker.’ They compel us to adapt to be attractive to and supportive of whoever is perceived as ‘bigger and stronger.’ An adult would be perceived as bigger and stronger by a child. And a male adult would be perceived as infinitely bigger and stronger by a female child.”

  Claudia reached out to Kimberlee again. This time she didn't stiffen at her touch.

  “May I attempt to surmise what happened to you?” she asked quietly.

  Kimberlee met her gaze momentarily. “Okay.”

  Claudia took a deep breath. “I am guessing it went something like this: probably a neighbor, since your mother does not tolerate even male friends.” She paused and Kimberlee nodded slightly.

  “Without a father or any father figures, the attention of any man would have been extremely powerful for you.”

  She paused as she saw Kimberlee swallow uncomfortably. The young woman grabbed a handful of tissues and wept quietly, even as she nodded for Claudia to continue.

  “A man's need for sex is more intense than most women can imagine. Unhealthy men do not stop to examine the appropriateness of meeting their needs with a child. This makes them dangerous people. It is never appropriate with a child. These people usually may not mean harm but they cause it nevertheless. I am so very sorry.”

  Kimberlee suddenly sobbed loudly. Claudia watched for a release of her pain and when it had not come, after a long while, she ventured another guess. “Kimberlee, listen to me. Are you blaming yourself? The child is never to blame. Never.”

  Kimberlee blurted, “But I liked it! Not all of it, but some of it! The attention, the presents, the flattery. I should have said ‘no.’ I should have told my mother. I'm so ashamed.” She burst into tears all over again.

  Claudia sighed and waited while Kimberlee cried herself out. It was a long time coming and exactly what needed to happen. She resisted the desire to touch her, letting Kimberlee initiate comfort.

  Finally, when Kimberlee had wiped her face and calmed herself, Claudia purposely used her childhood nickname: “Will you look at me, Kimster?”

  After a few moments, Kimberlee looked up, shyly meeting her gaze.

  “It does not matter what you liked. It does not matter that you liked any of it or all of it. It was not your fault. You were a child. It is always the adult's responsibility. That is what it means to be an adult.”

  “But I should have said, ‘No!’” Kimberlee repeated plaintively and reached towards her.

  Claudia took her hand and looked earnestly into the tear-swollen eyes. “How could you? How could you battle millennia of instinct, telling you to keep that man as an ally no matter what? How could you, a mere child, say ‘no’ — when grown women can barely do so?”

  KIMBERLEE's eyes widened as it dawned on her. She felt something come undone within her. An emotional dam broke and her own sense of damnation broke with it. She wept. Huge wracking sobs that expelled more than twenty years of shame.

  She felt Claudia's arms reach around her and she surrendered to them. She leaned forward and sobbed into her grandmother's soft chest. She wept until there was no weeping left in her.

  After a long time, she lifted her head and smiled shyly, wiping the snot and tears from her face. She motioned at the residue on Claudia's dress but her grandmother — her dear, dear grandmother — waved a hand, dismissing the mess. That's when she saw the moisture in Claudia's eyes. It overflowed and ran down her soft, wrinkled cheeks. Then they were both laughing and crying, tears of release and peace and joy.

  MIKE sighed in contentment. With Karen resting peacefully in the pocket of his shoulder, her hand buried in the hair on his chest, he was completely at peace. He smiled as he remembered his initial skepticism about the woman who had adopted his wife as her student. God bless Claudia, he thought once again.

  After a while, he kissed the top of Karen's dark head and asked, “When do you want to finish the conversation we started today? You know, Claudia's assignment.”

  Karen rose up on her elbow and looked at him. He regretted her moving off his chest, but this angle gave an excellent view of the slope and fullness of her breasts.

  “I thought we did finish that conversation,” she teased. “You want more?”

  He smiled and cupped a breast. Looking into her dazzling eyes, he drawled, “Always, Darlin’. This cowboy always wants more of you.”

  More seriously, he touched her face and added, “But I think it's important that we tell each other everything that sex provides. I'm still shocked that you knew that little about me. I thought it was obvious.”

  He watched as Karen's eyes teared up. “I had no idea sex meant that to you. If I had, you'd have gotten all you wanted. And more.”

  He brushed the tear away as it rolled down her cheek. “Don't feel bad. I got plenty. More than most guys.”

  She shook her head. “I don't feel all bad. What you said makes me feel beautiful. Wanted. And necessary.”

  He leaned over and kissed her firmly on her full lips. “You are absolutely necessary.”

  She smiled and he relaxed. With a mischievous twinkle, she said, “We could take turns sharing specifics, but I might get turned on again. Like tonight.”

  “That was hot, wasn't it?” Mike laughed. “And not only for us, I think.”

  Karen smiled and rubbed her hand across his chest. He was surprised to see gratitude in her eyes. “You were awesome, Honey. Besides changing my life, I don't think Kimberlee will ever be the same.”

  “I hope it makes a difference for her. But you're my main concern.” He touched the tip of her nose. “What else do you want to know, Gorgeous?”

  “Well, Claudia said to give each other specifics about what each sexual activity provides. And to talk about things like duration and frequency ….”

  Mike stretched and bunched the pillow under his head. “Hmmm, duration and frequency. Okay, I can start there ….” He thought a moment. “If we have a quickie. Or a ‘drive-by’ as Claudia called it.”

  He chuckled. “What a crack up to hear that lovely little lady say that. Who'd a thunk? Anyhow, what a quickie provides for me depends upon whether you come or not.”

  Karen looked surprised. “I thought quickies were all a
bout your needing release ….”

  He shrugged. “In some ways. They usually happen when the tension has built up in me and I have to have you immediately. I can't wait until we have time to make love. But if you come too, I feel like I've given something and not only taken.”

  She shook her head and it was his turn to be surprised. “I'm not taken from when I don't have an orgasm. Sometimes I don't want to be bothered to concentrate that hard. I like ‘servicing’ my husband. It's a turn on. Even remembering it is a turn on.”

  She smiled and continued. “If that's all we ever did, I would probably start to feel used. But when you're desperate, I like it. I feel important.” She smiled, “I guess I've always liked being a ‘sexual provider’ even before I knew what that meant.”

  He touched her cheek and his hand fell to her breast again affectionately. “You walkin’ by with all your curves, your tatas, your tummy, your back porch. Hmmm. You're providin’ by merely existin’.”

  He was gratified when her hand cupped his, holding it firmly to her breast. She laughed, “If you keep doing that, we're not gonna end up talking much!”

  That gave him an idea. “Well, since this information sharin’ is such a ‘hot topic,’ maybe we should draw it out. You know, share a little bit of information each day. You get my meanin’?” He raised his eyebrows.

  She grinned. “I think that's a great idea. But before we take this particular conversation to its obvious conclusion, could we make a pact?”

  That intrigued him. “What kind of pact?”

  “To focus on providing sex, for at least three months, and not worry about making a baby. No thermometers, no kits, no nothing. I think that would help me be sane again.”

  Mike laughed in relief. “That's one pact I'd be happy to make. And if I ‘accidentally’ knock you up in the meantime ….”

  She smiled and began licking her lips. The movement was interrupted by him planting his lips firmly upon hers.

  BURT finished the last of his ice cream. He scraped the sides of the bowl, Claudia's legs across his lap, her eyes closed, her breathing steady. She wasn't asleep; only resting from her ordeal. He waited patiently, knowing she would need to talk after she'd let the experience settle into her bones.

  About five minutes later, with a deep breath, she opened her eyes and smiled appreciatively at him.

  “Thank you, my love. That was exactly what I needed.”

  Burt began with her calf, massaging firmly. “Would you like to tell me about it now?”

  After pointing her toes and stretching from side to side, she replied, “It was as I suspected. On the one hand, I am saddened to have my fears confirmed. On the other, I am relieved that talking about it seems to have given Kimberlee some relief.”

  Burt shook his head as he felt the stirrings of anger deep and resolute. There was no crime, in his opinion, greater than the theft of innocence. And he knew that while some did it unwittingly, others did it purposely. For some strange reason, a small percentage of men and women had a perverse relationship to innocence. Instead of protecting it, they wanted to possess it or destroy it. It was evil. And while he was glad to have never fired a shot in WWII, he would not hesitate to strangle the man who had thus altered the course of his dear granddaughter's life.

  He was brought back from his thoughts by Claudia firmly taking his hand. “We are both angry. But our anger will not help Kimberlee. Neither your anger at the immoral people who do such things. Nor my anger at Myra.”

  She sighed, “She should have foreseen the effect on Kimberlee of her vehement disdain for all things male. Failing to provide healthy relationships with men made her daughter infinitely more vulnerable.”

  “You are correct, as usual, Sweetheart. Anger never rebuilds. But what can we provide for Kimberlee?”

  “I imagine compassion. Mountains of compassion. And a refusal to treat her as if she is damaged goods. There is nothing that cannot be healed if she is willing. And I believe after what Mike and Karen provided today, she has the will.”

  “How so?” Burt asked.

  “A person's will is enabled, strengthened, by love. The greater their ability to dwell in love, the more potent their will.”

  She shook her head, “Shame leads to despair. Despair locks up love and passion tight inside the chest. They are imprisoned, cutting off their experience and expression. And weakening a person's will.”

  She pursed her lips and added simply, “Hope is the hero. It busts open the prison, freeing love and passion; returning a person to the power of their will.”

  Her eyes crinkled. “What Mike and Karen shared today, about what sex can provide individuals — and a union — showed Kimberlee a new horizon for sex. I think it gave her hope.”

  “And that, you think, can lead to her healing?” Burt was fascinated by her train of thought.

  Claudia nodded vigorously. “Some people are getting too great a psychological benefit from their wounds to will themselves to be healed. They have incorporated the injury into their identity and do not know who they are without it. You can hear this when a person says, ‘my cancer’ or ‘my rape’ or ‘I am an incest survivor.’”

  “You think Kimberlee has done that?” Burt asked.

  He was relieved when Claudia shook her head. “No, fortunately, she has not. And, luckily, neither did she react the way some children, usually teenagers, do — by deciding that sex is all they are good for. That is equally damaging.”

  “How can you tell she didn't do that?”

  “Because that would have made her promiscuous. And Kimberlee avoids sex,” Claudia said.

  “That's too bad,” Burt replied. “Sex can give a couple the most joyous moments in their relationship.”

  “And you certainly have given me thousands of those moments, my love,” she said, laying her hand on his cheek.

  Burt's chest swelled. “Do you want to tell me about that part of your day? Did it go as you anticipated?”

  Her face lit up. “Even better than I imagined. Mike was articulate and incredibly generous. Karen was amazed, as I knew she would be. Then, to my delight, Karen was equally generous — for both Kimberlee and Mike — in sharing what sex provides for her. I think many women would relate to what she said. I know I did.”

  “Like what?” Burt asked.

  “Karen spoke about the way a woman becomes physical by being touched. This is something I think men do not understand fully. They may think of touching a woman as ‘foreplay’ and, especially for young men, maybe as an inconvenience to get to the part they need.”

  She shook her head. “But if a man touches her and is adoring her body, that part wakes up and becomes engaged in the act. His touch is what involves her senses. Whatever part he consciously touches, becomes part of the lovemaking. If he leaves it out, it stays left out.”

  Claudia chuckled. “It reminds me of the poster at the dentist's: ‘Floss only the teeth you want to keep.’ Women should have a sign on their headboard: ‘Touch only the parts of me you want to turn on.’”

  Burt grinned. “Touching you is one of my most favorite things to do. Whether I start at your feet or your head, I want to awaken every inch of you.”

  Claudia grinned back. “If you keep talking like that, you will have to chase that ice cream with a blue pill.”

  Burt brightened up. “Shall I? I'm happy to provide!”

  Claudia straightened up on the couch. “Actually, I want you to take one. But first, can I thank you for something?”

  Burt was surprised. He wasn't aware of having done anything — yet. “Thank me for what?”

  Her brow furrowed. “When Viagra was first made public, the culture of women reacted predictably, as if it was another example of men misbehaving. They assumed that the drug was created to allow ‘horny old men’ to get an erection for their own benefit. Most don't know that men can have an orgasm without an erection. An erection is for her pleasure. They never guessed that Viagra is another example of men wanting to provid
e for women. And that is what I am thanking you for — for doing whatever it takes to provide me with pleasure.”

  Burt smiled, “Sweetheart, I would do almost anything for you.”

  He paused for a moment, scratching his cheek. “I admit that when my equipment didn't rise to the occasion like it used to, I assumed it was psychological and I tried to handle it on my own.” He shook his head. “Like most men, I didn't know that testosterone levels naturally drop off as we get older — and that there are side-benefits in the form of verbal abilities and more emotional experiences.”

  He chuckled wryly, “But a good stiffy is not one of them. God bless the people who figured out how to fix that problem.”

  Claudia shook her head. “And while you were thinking it was your problem, I was thinking it was mine. That I was less attractive. And that created a vicious cycle. Because I thought I was not attractive enough to excite you, I stopped expressing my desire for you. I was afraid to hope for something that might not happen. In my self-centered concern, I forgot that my desire for you is one of the things that make the system work.”

  Her head tilted to the side, she added, “Remember how uncomfortable it was, sorting all that out? But I am glad we did. We have countless moments of joy yet to be shared.”

  Suddenly she grinned. “That is one my favorite things about the blue pill. It makes you a sure thing.” She batted her eyelashes shamelessly. “Which means I do not have to hedge my bet or temper my desire.”

  That was enough for Burt.

  KIMBERLEE sat on her bed in her pajamas and drew Lancelot into her lap. Stroking the big lunk of a cat soothed her and at this moment, she needed some serious comforting.

  Thinking about her night was like trying to remember a wild roller coaster ride. There had been some remarkable life-altering highs, and some hard but healing, gut-wrenching lows. It was a ride she hadn't wanted to take but now she wouldn't give up for anything.

  She looked inside herself, to the place where she normally found unbearable shame. Surprisingly, there was none of the emotion she normally felt. There was only a memory of a story she'd known, rather than the intense reality of something that had happened to her. She realized then that it hadn't happened to her. Not Kimberlee Lambert, the full-grown woman. It had happened to an innocent, needy child who got in over her head.