Tears of the Silenced

by Misty Griffin

  As we started the ascent up the Cascade Mountain pass that would take us into western Washington, I felt sweat beads forming on my forehead even though I was not hot. My hands were sweating profusely, and I was gasping for breath. Karen looked into the back seat and seeing me gasping, told Carl to pull over to the side of the road. She got out of the car and then pulled her seat forward and reached in and pulled me out.

  “Carl, get me that bottle of water,” she ordered. “I think she’s having a panic attack.”

  Karen poured some water on a handful of napkins and dabbed my face with it. I started to calm down, and my breathing got easier. I shook myself and looked at Carl and Karen in embarrassment.

  “I’m sorry,” I said as I crawled into the back seat.

  “No.” Karen shook her head as we hit the road again. “Carl and I have been waiting for something like this to happen. You have been so strong since everything happened. You have to fall apart sometime. It’s a release mechanism for the brain.”

  I shrugged and stared out the window again. I was still ashamed of myself, but I did feel surprisingly better.

  We pulled up to Aunty Laura’s house in the early afternoon. I remembered the house from many years earlier. It seemed smaller than I remembered, but it was still the house that I used to imagine living in. It was a medium-sized, three-bedroom house. Aunty Laura always kept it spotless, and I remembered that her house always smelled like fresh flowers. There was also a large magnolia tree that graced the front lawn and the driveway. Memories from so many years ago floated through my mind. Sadly, I recalled the image of my small, seven-year-old self that had been badly beaten and was rarely seen out in public.

  I shivered as I remembered Brian driving up into the driveway one day and turning to tell me and Samantha to dry our tears and smile. We knew what we would get when we got home if he caught us doing anything other than smiling at Aunty Laura’s. It was our second time coming to Washington for the summer, and we stopped at Aunty Laura’s to get the keys to Grandpa’s shop. Samantha and I had been caught talking to each other without raising our hands a few hours earlier, and Brian, in a fit of rage, had whipped us with a blackberry branch. About forty-five minutes later we were at Aunty Laura’s; little Samantha could not stop whimpering, afraid she would get another switching, so I pretended to be angry with her.

  “Samantha! You shut up this instant,” I yelled at her as I shook her chubby shoulders.

  Surprisingly, she got quiet and I quickly dried her face and gave her a hug.

  Aunty Laura came out all smiles, and hugged Brian while she pretended Mamma was not even there. Samantha and I smiled at her from the back seat. It was not hard to pretend to smile at Aunty Laura because she was always so nice to us.

  “Hi, honeys,” she said as she opened the truck door and pulled us out one at a time to give us a hug.

  I winced as she hugged me. The searing pain from the blackberry switch was terrible.

  “What happened to your leg?” Aunty Laura asked as she bent over to hug me.

  I looked down and saw that the long skirt of my dress had ridden up a little when she hugged me. The wide track mark from the thick blackberry branch was bright red and purple across the calf of my thin leg, but as bad as this welt looked, there were several others on my upper legs that looked much worse.

  “Oh,” I stammered, not knowing what to say. What if she pulled my dress up further to take a look?

  Mamma came over and put her arm around Samantha and me.

  “You know little girls,” she said with a sigh. “They were playing hide-and-go-seek in the blackberry bushes this morning and she was running when a giant branch snapped her on the back of the leg.”

  “Ouch.” Aunty Laura made a funny face at me; I could not help laughing. “Did you put anything on it, Sue?” she asked Mamma. “It looks like it could get infected if it opens up.”

  Mamma scowled at her indignantly. “Of course, I did, Laura,” she had snapped.

  Aunty Laura shrugged and waved us into the house to eat some of her freshly-made strawberry pie. I had looked around the clean, peaceful house and wished I lived there and that Aunty Laura was my mother. Good thing I had not known then all the other horrible things I would have to go through in the next fifteen years. It may well have broken my seven-year-old spirit.

  Now, as I got out of the backseat of the small truck, Aunty Laura was again coming down the walk to greet us. She looked much the same as she had fifteen years ago. There were a few more wrinkles here and there, but she was still the radiant, smart, kind lady she had always been. She came up to me with outstretched arms and gave me a giant hug. I gritted my teeth as she hugged me. I could still not stand to be touched, but I didn’t want to worry her, so I just closed my eyes as I hugged her back. I felt so numb inside. I was trying to be happy, but I couldn’t even fake it. I was so exhausted, I felt like I was going to fall over. I saw Uncle Bill coming out of the house and felt him grab me and give me a giant bear hug. I gritted my teeth again until he was finished.

  “So?” Uncle Bill looked at me. “How long are you going to be staying with us?”

  “Until January, if that’s okay.” I tried to smile.

  “Okay? Of course, it is okay,” Uncle Bill said as he put his arm around my shoulders and playfully dragged me over to where the others were huddled and whispering together.

  Karen looked up at me and commented on how tired I looked. Aunty Laura nodded and said I should lie down. I was suddenly feeling completely exhausted and agreed when Aunty Laura said she would take me to my room. I waved goodbye to Karen and Carl and told them I would call them once they got back to their house. I knew that after I lay down, they were going to explain everything to Uncle Bill and Aunty Laura. I was glad. I did not feel like telling them myself.

  I closed the door to the bedroom I would be staying in and locked it. Then, I checked to see if it was locked at least three times. I locked the windows and closed the curtains. Still not satisfied, I moved a few boxes that were near the closet to block the door. I knew it was dumb, but it made me feel better. I lay down on the twin-sized bed and thought how Englisch everything was before I drifted off into a deep sleep. I did not wake up for the next eighteen hours.

  A Modern World

  Even if you are on the right track, you’ll get run over if you

  just sit there.

  —Will Rogers

  I awoke suddenly and sat up in bed. I could see sunlight streaming in through the cracks in the frilly, light yellow curtains. For a split second, I was confused about where I was. I frowned and saw the twin bed with the flowered bedspread. I wondered why it was flowered and why I was in a flowered blue dress instead of my Amish clothes. I could hear the doorknob rattling and a woman’s voice calling for me to come and unlock the door. Suddenly, everything came back to me in a rush, and I jumped out of bed and moved the boxes so I could open the door.

  Aunty Laura was standing there with a screwdriver in her hand. “Wow, thank God,” she sort of gasped. “I was worried about you. It’s eleven o’clock.”

  “Eleven o’clock?” I felt embarrassed and uncomfortable being in a strange house. “I’m sorry, Aunty Laura.” I shook out the skirt of the long dress I was wearing. I tied the thin, white scarf up and under my hair, so it was not around my face. I noticed that Aunty Laura was staring at me. I realized that although I knew Aunty Laura, we did not really know each other well, and I believe she was realizing the same thing.

  “I just can’t believe you are here in my house.” Aunty Laura put her hand on my shoulder. “You always stood out to me as a bright, sweet girl, but I never had the chance to really get to know you.”

  I smiled at her with as much kindness as I could muster. This was harder than I thought it would be. She reminded me of such sad times in my life. It was not her fault, nor mine; it was just how it was. Tears formed in my eyes and I coul
d not blink them away fast enough for her not to see them. Aunty Laura nodded when she saw the tears and put her arms around me.

  “I am so sorry, honey,” she soothed. “I am so terribly sorry.” She rubbed her hand up and down my back. “Karen and Carl told us everything before they left last night.”

  “Did they tell you about Brian and Mamma?” I asked, pulling away from her.

  Aunty Laura nodded. “Yes, they did tell me what my brother did to you. I just don’t understand why I didn’t see it. I knew they were weird, but they told us that you, girls, went on trips with friends and went through a homeschooling program and stuff.” Aunty Laura kept shaking her head. “You have to believe me, honey. I honestly didn’t realize that you girls were prisoners up there.”

  “It’s okay, Aunty Laura.” I reached for her hand. “No one knew. Mamma and Brian used their religion to cover up the heinous crimes they were committing.”

  Aunty Laura nodded. “They have my mother up there, though.” She looked at me with a frown.

  I nodded and put a hand to my head. My headache was coming back.

  “Okay, enough of this. We’ll talk later.” Aunty Laura patted me on the back. “You go ahead and take a shower and then we will talk about what needs to be done.”

  I nodded and went to get some clean clothes. I walked into the bathroom and closed the door. This is amazing, I thought. It was so different from sponge bathing in a tub. I fiddled with the knob for a few minutes, trying to remember how to get the water to come out of the shower head. I jumped back, startled when I pulled a knob on the top of the water faucet and suddenly, scalding hot water came cascading out with a roar.

  I stood in the shower for probably ten minutes, letting the hot water pour over me. It was so relaxing and refreshing, and I remember thinking how long it would have taken to heat all that water on top of the wood burning stove. How proud I was for using so much hot water and lathering up with the good-smelling soap. I actually laughed. I was starting to feel better and even excited about my new life.

  When I got out of the shower, I combed my long, brownish-red hair. It reached halfway to my knees. I saw the hairdryer lying on the counter next to the sink and decided to try it. I was a little scared to plug it in though, since I had heard how easily people could get electrocuted. After carefully plugging it in, I pointed it at my head and turned it on, but it was so noisy it scared me and I decided not to use it after all. Instead, I just rolled my hair up and tied my scarf back on. Then I walked out into the kitchen where Aunty Laura was making sandwiches.

  As we ate, Aunty Laura told me that she had a job for me at their furniture store. She said she needed someone to dust furniture, vacuum and take messages for her. I was excited at the prospect of already having a job and told Aunty Laura I would work hard.

  “I know.” Aunty Laura smiled. “I’ve seen you around the farm, remember?”

  Aunty Laura asked me about my plans, and I told her about wanting to go to YWAM in January. She told me it would be easy to save the fifteen hundred dollars over the summer, since I would be making ten dollars an hour at her store.

  “Ten dollars an hour?” I exclaimed. “That is a lot of money. An Amish girl who is working as a maid only gets three dollars a day!”

  Aunty Laura laughed outright. “Well, you certainly won’t get by with three dollars a day out here. You will learn soon enough that money just slips away without you knowing where it went.”

  I raised my eyebrows. Ten dollars an hour still seemed like an awful lot of money, I thought.

  The rest of the week, I went to work with Aunty Laura and Uncle Bill at their large furniture and interior design store. Aunty Laura and Uncle Bill were often gone, advising people on how to remodel their homes or overseeing furniture deliveries. Their grandson worked for them too, and he was in charge when they were not there.

  I found my job to be extremely easy. I had to vacuum the store every day. At first, I was a little scared of the noisy vacuum cleaner. I hated being around something so loud and I constantly looked behind me to see if anyone was standing there or sneaking up on me. I dusted and polished all the furniture and sometimes I answered the phone. My twenty-seven-year-old step-cousin, Blake, talked to customers when they came in and made sales. It was said that Uncle Bill was grooming him to take over the business when he and Aunty Laura retired.

  I usually got all my work done very early and then walked around, looking for something to do. As a result of my boredom, I started taking it upon myself to tend the flowers we had out front. Once, when Aunty Laura and Uncle Bill came back to the store, they laughed when they saw me kneeling in the flower beds pulling out some weeds. I did not see what was so funny, but Aunty Laura took a few pictures of me and said she wished all of her employees were as concerned about the place as I was.

  On Sunday, I went to church with Uncle Bill. Aunty Laura said she was too sleepy and was glad I was there so Uncle Bill would not pester her to go with him. The store was closed on Sundays and Mondays, so we did not have to go to work on those days. In the afternoon, I went along to visit Aunty Laura’s youngest son and his wife. I sat most of the time watching the television. I knew they were talking about me, but I didn’t care.

  I loved watching the History Channel. It was so fascinating to watch history brought to life like that. The first few times I tried to watch television, it hurt my eyes and put me to sleep, but I was getting used to it. I found I enjoyed sitting with Uncle Bill and Aunty Laura in the evenings. While we ate dinner, we often watched shows like CSI or Law and Order. I thought it was amazing how the bad guys were always caught and put in prison. So much different from real life, but I still cheered as the crooks were led away in handcuffs.

  But even though I had no regrets about leaving the Amish, I found the noisy city to be a little unsettling. The feeling would fade with time, but during my first few weeks in Seattle, I was acutely aware of every sound and it made me feel strange. The constant use of electric lights hurt my eyes. Aunty Laura kept coming behind me and turning on the lights. She laughed once when she found me in the kitchen peeling potatoes as the sun was setting with barely a smidgen of light left on the horizon.

  “You know, I don’t mind if you turn on the lights,” she said with a smile.

  “Oh,” I said innocently. “I know, but I am used to not lighting the lamps until the sun sets. It saves on kerosene and really isn’t necessary.”

  Aunty Laura stared at me, as if I had just told her I was an alien from Mars.

  “Uh…okay, Misty.” She shook her head. “Just don’t go and buy any kerosene lamps and bring them here. This is not 1820, you know.”

  I looked at her, perplexed. “I have one in my hope chest.”

  “Oh, my God.” Aunty Laura laughed and grabbed her head in playful exasperation. “I don’t even know if my grandmother had a hope chest, and now I have a twenty-two-year-old girl standing in my kitchen talking about hers.”

  Uncle Bill had come up behind her and he was laughing, so I laughed too. Whenever Uncle Bill laughed it was hard not to join him, even if you did not know what he was finding so funny.

  “Just think, Laura.” He came over to me and put his hands on my shoulders. “We have our very own Pilgrim girl, teleported to us from the 1620s.”

  We all laughed then. It was funny, but little did they realize that was exactly how I found the outside world weird too. While I tried, I couldn’t understand what people were talking about half the time, and I was not very good at just sitting and relaxing. I felt I had to be constantly busy. I sighed within myself. Eventually, I would figure it all out. But in the meantime, I tried to be cheerful. I was starting to feel safer and did not flinch as much anymore when people touched me, but I still screamed when someone came up behind me unexpectedly. I hoped that would fade as well.

  The Bishop Escapes

  Courage isn’t having the strength to go
on—it is going on when you don’t have strength.

  —Napoleon

  During my first week in Seattle, I began asking around about how to get my GED. I knew I needed to start soon if I was going to complete it by January. Aunty Laura and Uncle Bill shook their heads in disgust when they learned what a paltry education I had. Uncle Bill said I made up for my lack of education by being plain smart and quick to figure things out. He said my lack of knowledge was not noticeable until someone started talking about something like going online. When that happened, I just stared at them nodding my head, not really knowing what they were talking about. Aunty Laura said the best way to find out how to get a GED was to go to the local community college and ask someone there. She said she didn’t know how I was going to make up for eight years of missed school, but I told her, “Where there is a will, there is a way,” and she nodded at me and commented that she wished her five grandchildren had my determination for getting things done.

  Aunty Laura dropped me off at the community college one morning later that week. I remember the powerful feelings I had as I walked up to the main entrance to one of several large buildings. I saw people my age going in and out of the giant sliding glass doors carrying books in their arms. I was so excited knowing that I might be one of those students one day soon. I looked at the sign out front that said “Community College,” and I went over and put both of my palms on it and just stood there for a moment. I don’t know why I did this, but it was as if I were trying to convince myself I was really on a college campus. It was like a dream. I am sure that the people passing by were staring at me, wondering why the girl in the long dress and white scarf was standing there touching the sign like that. They had no idea how much it meant to me to be there, and that was okay. Even if I told someone why I was touching the sign, I would never be able to convey the deep emotions that were running through me in that brief moment.