Chapter 20
With two little streams of steam rising from their coffee cups Abby began at the beginning.
“John, I had a great life when I was a little girl. My father and mother were so happy and my brother was such a special little guy.”
The waitresses bustled around the cafeteria as Abby continued. “And then it happened, that day he fell from the truck.”
Abby told John about how she and Luke were pushing and shoving each other when suddenly the door of the truck came open and Luke fell from the truck. Abby paused as she folded her hands in her lap and leaned back in her chair and looked upwards toward the ceiling. “John, had I said something my father could have stopped the truck but I froze and that cost Luke his life.” Abby then looked into John’s eyes and said, “Even though my parents never blamed me I had always felt it was my fault my brother died that day. I could see the pain on my mom and dad’s faces. I heard my mother softly crying late at night for two or three years after the accident and my dad all but disappeared into his work on the farm. John, everything changed that day.
Abigail was beautiful and privileged as the daughter of Gus and Grace Rogers yet she always had the darkness of that day lurking in her mind. The other kids would look at her with pity when they spoke of her brother and how he had died. Abby’s life became a sad and lonely place. The memory of her brother lying in the gravel of the driveway with her father crying over his limp little body tormented her. She could never forget the joy he had brought her mother and father and she had also loved him very much. They had a special bond as the only two kids together on the farm with no one else to play with.
After the waitress topped off their coffee Abby continued with her story. “I went on a hayride in my freshman year of high school. At some point along the way a boy named Jimmy pulled out a bottle of Peppermint Schnapps. All the other kids were taking sips so when it came around to me I took a turn. It was like candy.” Abby explained how she had been preached to about the dangers of alcohol in both school and church but somehow that night it didn’t seem like such a bad thing. “After about three more sips I was giggling along with the others. My past melted away, those haunting memories were forgotten and the sad silence of home was being replaced with laughter, John, it was like magic.”
Abby took a sip of her coffee and then continued; “One weekend a bunch of kids were going to the movies and I was invited to go along. They picked me up and we drove along the gravel roads towards town and drank more PeppermintSchnapps. When we ran out we hung out at the liquor store and convince a stranger to buy us some more. Somehow the movie was forgotten and we cruised around town drinking and just having a ball.”
Abby told John about she then fell in with a bunch of kids that spent their time going from one party to another. “Oh, we were all nice kids, from respected homes and basically normal teenager’s just out to have fun. I guess we we’re just restless and bored and living in a small town or on farms scattered about Howard County. There didn’t seem like there was much else to do other than party.”
Abby waved off another cup of coffee offered by the waitress, John held out his cup although he really didn’t want any more.
A few weeks later Abby was with her new friends, they were at a bon fire party, drinking and smoking pot. Late in the night she found herself sitting on a log next to the fire with the Cunningham boy. His name was Dale; he was tall, had long blond hair and very handsome, every girl in school had a crush on him. The more they talked the closer he sat to her. They drank Seagram’s seven with Seven Up and hit the pipe a couple of times when it came around. After a while Dale put his hand on her knee. She like the way it felt, she liked Dale and the moon was full and bright.
Dale leaned in and pressed his lips onto Abby’s. He placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her tightly towards him. Someone had thrown another log on the fire and other couples were making out. Moments went by maybe hours, passion rose and the fire died down. The darker it became the hotter the fire within Abby and Dale burned.
They moved to a secluded spot and lay in the soft grass as Dale pressed his body against Abby’s. He covered hers with his. He slid his hand under her shirt and cupped her breast and sweetly kissed her neck. Abby was swept away. Dale’s hand wondered downward and covered her completely. He undid her jeans and slid them off, next he pull down her panties. He placed his mouth on her in a way she had never known. She was lost in all this as he penetrated her and climaxed inside of her.
Sweet promises and confessions of love were soon replaced with the entire school knowing that Dale and Abby had had sex. The other girls in the small rural school looked at her and giggled when she walked by them in the hallway. All the boys seemed to treat her differently than they had before. Dale was practically a stranger hardly saying anything to her at all. Abby was beyond devastated. She just wanted to melt away.
“John, I felt like I had no friends anymore. There was no one to talk to and my world became small and lonely. There were only a few kids left in school that were kind to me, I had become, one of those girls.”
Eventually, my friends became the kids everyone else thought of as unworthy of befriending. These were the kids with the dark eyes, black messy hair and hardened expressions. They wore black tee shirts and old tennis shoes. They were the kids whose parents were bikers or lived in tiny run down houses but at least they didn’t judge me and we drank and drugged.”
The booze and drugs captured Abby like a cat catches a mouse. In no time at all she was smothered with the lifestyle of escapism. It seemed the only way to dull the ache of her life. Eventually, sex became just another drug for Abby, a period of time when her conscience didn’t haunt her.
Her broken-hearted mother and father, her loneliness, her brother’s death, all these things she caused. This string of circumstances had crushed the spirit of a young girl who had no idea what to do with any of this. She found herself in the arms of many young men who used her but she didn’t care. She told herself she didn’t care about anything, she was damaged goods.
John and Abby both switched to water and ordered a piece of chocolate cake. After they finished the cake Abby asked John if he wanted to hear anymore of her depressing story. John said nothing only nodded his head.
“I met a man named Chris. He was several years older than I was. He was very charming in the beginning, he used to tell me how pretty I was and showered me with gifts. John, he made me feel wanted and loved. And yet, Chris had a dark side. He was jealous and over protective. In the beginning I guess it made me feel secure and comfortable. But as time went on he began to dominate me. He had to know where I was at every minute of the day.”
The waitress topped off their water and bustled about the dining room.
Abby continued, “On the nights Chris would drink whiskey he would lose his head. Violence was his way of solving problems. He was even known to start fights with his friends when he was drunk. One by one people began to avoid Chris and I. It was only a matter of time before he would turn his frustrations onto me.”
The first time he slapped her she was absolutely stunned. She had known of his ways but never thought he would hit her. He apologized over and over saying it would never happen again. For a few days their relationship seemed to be better than ever. And then it happened again. Abby told herself that if she could keep him from drinking whiskey he wouldn’t get mean. She tried to control his drinking but to no avail. Within a few months she became a battered woman and had no idea how to stop it. Christ would smack her around and tell her it was her fault for pissing him off. She tried to do everything right and not upset him but no matter what she did it was never enough. No one else would want her now, she was trapped. She couldn’t go home and let her mother and father see her bruises. She was afraid what her father would do if he saw her beaten. The only answer seemed to be to stay with Chris, try not to do anything to make him mad and take her medicine.
When Chris decided he wanted to get
the hell out of Missouri, he and Abby loaded up his truck with their worldly possessions and the young woman with the dark glasses on to hide her black eyes took off for Colorado. He’d promised her it was the fresh start they needed. And yet, deep down inside Abby knew this wasn’t something she should be doing. Almost as if he’d cast a spell over her, she went along. She would miss her mother and father but Chris’ controlling nature wouldn’t allow her to say goodbye. The young woman felt enormous guilt about hurting her parents this way but there just didn’t seem to be anything she could do.
They arrived in Denver with just enough money to buy some whiskey. They had to sleep in the back of the truck for a few days until Abby got a waitress job at Denny’s and made enough money in tips to pay for a room at a run down motel.
They got married at the courthouse and Abby’s new last name was Wilhite. Now, John knew why he hadn’t been able to find her. Now a married woman, Abby was in this thing for good.
This motel was a haven for drug addicts, drunks and criminals. There were several prostitutes that worked out of the rooms and it seemed the police were there every few days looking for someone. At first Abby stayed in their room afraid to go anywhere. Chris began partying with the others that lived there and soon Abby joined them. By now Chris was pretty much staying drunk most of the time and fell in with some people that were doing heroin.
The prostitutes in the motel became Abby’s friends. They were really pretty nice girls although streetwise. They were always kind to Abby. They seemed like just normal girls who had had some bad breaks in life and doing what they had to in order to survive.
One night Chris and another guy were shooting heroin as Abby watched them. When they let the tourniquet go they floated away to some other place. This was the place Abby wanted to be. Chris objected at first but she insisted and although she was scared, Chris hit her up with the powder. At first it made her feel sick but then relief came to the young runaway. At last, Abby found the solution she had always been looking for.
Within a couple of weeks Chris and Abby needed to get high every day. The money from working at Denny’s was no longer near enough to pay for the room and the smack. There was only one thing to do. Abby’s friends tried to talk her out of it, saying this wasn’t something for a pretty young woman like her to get into. Abby knew they were right but what else could she do. Chris was a monster without his fix and she needed hers as well. Her hooker friends tried to warn her of the dangers of working in their profession. They told her she was too young and pretty and could do better.
Abby’s first trick went all right. He was an older man, she guessed he probably had a wife and kids at home and gave Abby two hundred dollars. After, she felt ashamed but as soon as the needle hit her arm the shame melted away. Abby, being so young and pretty could charge top dollar. Within a month she discovered she could make several hundred dollars a day yet it seemed like it was never enough as she and Chris gave every dime of it to their dealer.
A man showed up one day at the motel. Abby could tell he was trouble from the first time she met him. Shortly after he arrived, he and Chris drank whiskey together and shot dope. Not long after that they would leave together and come back to the motel with large amounts of money. When Abby asked how they’d gotten the money Chris told her, “Don’t worry about it.”
This went on for a few months until one day they didn’t return. Word on the street was they had robbed a convenience store and it just so happened a police officer had been a block away and after a high speed chase resulting in Chris crashing the truck, the two men were caught and both were charged with armed robbery and assault. Chris was eventually sentenced to ten years in prison.
Abby was now alone, working as a prostitute, living in a run down motel and strung out on heroin. She was in a free fall and knew it and decided she was either going to kill herself or somehow get help but she didn’t know how. All she knew for sure was she couldn’t go on like this.
Unknown to Abby one of her girlfriends at the motel called a woman’s shelter and explained to the person on the phone that if they didn’t get over here fast a certain young woman was going to die.
Two women were standing there when Abby opened the door. They were looking at a living skeleton with hollow eyes and tear stained cheeks. There was no fight left in Abby.
These two angels took Abigail to a hospital. She was admitted and medically detoxed.
After the first week passed, one morning she got out of bed early before the sun had come up. She was weak but had survived the horror of coming off heroin. Wrapped in a blanket, Abby went out into the courtyard of the hospital. She sat there mesmerized by the simple act of the sun coming up. It was a spiritual experience for the young run-a-way. It felt like God was giving the world another day. Abby felt like this same presence was giving her a second chance as well. For the next several days when the first few streaks of morning sunshine softly settled onto her face she came to understand a divine power was making its presence known to her.
These rays of hope were powerful and yet short lived. Abby had a lot of work to do. Her hospital stay was brief and she gladly accepted an offer to stay at a woman’s shelter.
The shelter had no name and no public address. Many of the women who came through were victims of domestic violence and needed a place to hide. There were two women per room and Abby and Gail got along perfectly. Gail was also a recovering addict and together they attended group therapy meetings required by the shelter and Narcotic Anonymous meetings at the Presbyterian Church.
Abby cried for the first year, felt hopeless for another, just mostly felt sorry for herself the third year but little by precious little she made progress. It was a slow, painful road back to something resembling a normal life. And yet, Abby had been told from the beginning she would never have a normal life. At first she didn’t understand this and certainly didn’t like the idea of never being normal. The girls at the shelter explained that once you’ve crossed the line there was never any going back. She could think of her addiction as a burden and carry its heavy load or think of it as a gift and use it wisely.
A few months had gone by and one day Abby was walking along the tree lined boulevard that ran in front of the shelter. It was an older part of Denver and the trees were old and huge. The sidewalk was cracked by the roots of these gigantic trees.After a few blocks she happened upon an old Methodist church that sat on the corner across from an old grocery store.
There were concrete steps that ran along the entire front of the building. At the top of these steps was a pair of big wooden doors. On the top of the church was an old rugged cross that looked like it was a hundred years old.
Abby stopped in front of the church and looked up at the red brick building. There was something that frightened her about this little church and yet she was compelled to go inside. She placed her foot onto the first step and nothing happened. Then another step until she was at last to the top of the stairs. Her hand reached out and grasps the brass handle of one of the big doors. She hoped it was locked but it wasn’t, it opened easily. Inside she could see a long isle that ran the depth of the building between rows of old wooden pews. At the end of the isle was a preacher’s pulpit and behind that Jesus hung on a cross with a crown of thorns around his head.
Abby stepped inside; she waited for her eyes to adjust in the dim light and then made her way down the isle. She paused to gaze upon the stained glass windows that depicted scenes that brought back memories from her youngest days when she went to church with her mother and father.
The church was empty except for one little old woman wearing a pale white veil sitting on the second row. Abby sat on the other side of the isle a few rows back of the old woman. The two women sat for a moment in silence until the old woman spoke saying, “Hello child.”
Abby had a feeling she had somehow known this woman and yet she was a stranger. “Hello,” Abby replied.
Abby realized the old woman had never turned around and yet i
t almost seemed as if she had been expecting her.
After another moment the old woman said, “I’m glad you’re here, child.” Abby didn’t quite know what to say but she managed to say, “Me too.”
Abby was looking at the familiar pain on Jesus’ face when the old woman said. “God loves you and so do I, I always have.” Abby didn’t know what to say so she remained silent.
After a couple of minutes the old woman wearing the veil said, “You have a purpose child.” Abby remained silent until the woman then told her, “Do not be afraid, God will always be with you.”
After a few more moments of reflective silence Abby got up and began to make her way back up the isle. About halfway, she turned and told the old woman, “Goodbye.” “Goodbye child,” said the woman. And then for some reason Abby told her, “I love you too.” The woman never turned around as she then bowed her head as if in sorrowful prayer.
When Abby got to the big wooden doors she turned to take one last look back at the church and was astonished to discover the old woman was gone.
After a few years Abby became grateful that she had walked the path that she had. When she was working with the other women at the shelter she gathered a sense of purpose. When she saw the looks of desperation on the faces of the new girls coming to the shelter it always took her back to a time when she herself was desperate.
Abby was now a confident, beautiful woman with a story to tell and uniquely qualified to give the gift of hope. She told the girls, “If I can do it, you can too.”
Abby’s experience at the shelter gave her a dream, a goal to accomplish in order to maintain her own journey. When Abby became aware of the constant struggle to keep the doors of the shelter open due to the lack of funding she discovered this opportunity was presenting her with her life’s calling.
The first few times she approached the churches and other various sources of possible funding she was nervous and not sure of herself but eventually she gained confidence and slowly the money came. It was a never ending challenge that could become extremely frustrating at times.
Abby never forgot the day in the old Methodist Church with the old rugged cross. She had been told by her angel that she had a mission. She would never talk of this to another person but the experience had a profound effect on her. When times got rough and hope seemed lost Abby would return to the old church. As she opened the old wooden door and made her way down the isle she always looked for the old woman in the veil. Although she never saw her again her spirit was always present and Abby never left the church without a shot of encouragement.
It had been many years since Abby left the motel, the dope and the abuse to find help and hope in the shelter when she opened the doors of her first project. Within just a few weeks the shelter had a waiting list of women to get in. Abby hated to turn away one single woman and realized she would just have to open another shelter. Getting the money was a constant struggle and Abby spent most of her time lobbying local, state and federal agencies to raise the awareness of the need for shelters. She had met with Governors, senate committees, and the legislature and had friends in the highest levels of society and the religious community. She’d gone to radio and T.V. stations for on-air interviews to inform the listeners of the hidden dangers of domestic violence. Abby visited churches and pled with the congregations for volunteers, contributions and other financial assistance. And yet, it was when she was with the girls in the shelters she felt the most fulfilled. This was now her life and she loved it and she felt like she had finally become almost whole until she thought about her unfinished childhood, and then she read about her father’s accident.
The waitress offered coffee or water one last time and gave them the check. John’s resentments toward Abby had melted like a snowman in July.
After Abby finished telling her story to John she smiled for the first time since they had met. She fell silent to let her new friend gather some of what she had just shared.
After a few long seconds of silence John responded with, “Wow, that’s an amazing story,” and then said, “Abby, your father is a good man and would have understood. He loves you very much and has always only wanted the very best for you.”
Abby’s faint smile faded as she told John, “I felt such shame, I wanted to come home, yet I felt I was such a disappointment it seemed better to just stay away.”
The stoic Abby was now clearly with misty eyes and the tears begun to smear the beautiful woman’s makeup. As she spoke those words to John she realized how crazy it all sounded. She was beginning to understand all those years she had not only denied herself a father but she had denied her father a daughter. John figured it best to just let her cry. After a moment he reached across the table and took her hand telling her that the important thing was that she was home now. But even as he was saying this he hoped it wasn’t too late.
Gus’s condition remained about the same for many more days. There was hardly a time when either John or Abby wasn’t by his bedside. Abby had so many things she wanted to say to her father. She wanted to tell him she was sorry for everything and that she loved him. She wanted to talk with him about her mother. She wanted to know about her grandparents. There was this whole part of her life that was missing. She had dedicated her life to the helping of others to heal themselves but now it was her time. Abby’s soul needed to make these amends to her father. She wanted to hear his voice, she wanted to be held in her father’s arms and hear him tell her he loved her.
The Pride of Howard County Page 21