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“Don’t leave me…take me with you…please…” a cry that was never
answered…a wish never fulfilled…
It could have been any day…it was always the same.
Tanya lay on her bed staring at the ceiling trying to answer the
question she was told to come up with an answer to.
What did you do wrong?
She had fed and watered the rabbit, done the dishes and put the
food away. She had finished her English and math assignments so what
HAD she done wrong?
She didn’t know…it might have been something…it may have been
nothing…
She was supposed to be in here for an hour and it had been far
longer. Tanya sighed thinking, “Where was that book? I put it somewhere…
it couldn’t be in the dresser.” It would be found…she closed
her eyes to think. “Ah yes”…silently she slipped her fingers between
the mattress and the bed frame. Voila, The Magician’s Nephew. She listened
carefully for footsteps. There weren’t any. She opened the book
and began to read. She listened carefully and tried not to get lost in
the story. If they caught her reading when she was already under punishment,
she’d be grounded from reading again. The book would
either be confiscated or torn up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
A while later she didn’t know how long she’d been reading when
she heard familiar footsteps. Her father only could walk short distances
because of the accident. It was too hard to maneuver in the
sports chair because the narrow hallway and doorways of their house.
She quickly hid the book and lay there pretending to think.
The door opened; she sat up and stayed quiet. It was always best.
“What are you doing? Don’t you know what time it is? You’re supposed
to be in school. Its three o’clock and your friends are already
home. You can’t play if you don’t finish your work.”
Her father had forgotten she was being punished again; she got up
slowly and lowered her head, “Yes dad…I’ll go finish.” It was an empty
threat. She wouldn’t have been allowed to play. She rarely was allowed
to play so it was best to assume she wouldn’t be able to. She silently
walked past him and back to the living room, “Mom…what am I supposed
to be doing for Science…”
Her mother had been dozing again; she was always asleep. Was it
because she was unhappy or because she wasn’t good? “What? Oh just
read the next chapter and answer the questions.”
That was easy. This was a rather boring school. She wished she
could just go to the neighborhood school. Maybe she’d have real
friends. That was a wish that would never be granted. She walked
into the schoolroom and closed the door. It was silent and dark, but
she wasn’t afraid because she was surrounded by old friends. She ran
a tender finger along the spines of the books that made her lonely life
bearable as she made her way to her desk. It was old-fashioned but it
made the room look more like a school room than a family room. She
lifted the lid and removed her science text. Sighing and lonely, she
started to read. Wasn’t school supposed to be fun?
~~~~~~~~~~~~
She’d been caught reading again…it had to be after 11 at night. It
was so dark…it wasn’t that she didn’t like the dark. It was that she
could no longer turn on the light that scared her. She’d been careful;
she’d left the hall light on and had something behind the door
to block the light. She’d been yelled at again before bed; first do the
dishes, then to stop snacking once she was inside the kitchen and get
her father a drink of water. When she left the kitchen with a glass
she’d been yelled at for not doing the dishes. She tried to explain herself
only to see him raise his hand; she had cringed in response. She
handed the glass to her brother Zach who was sitting watching TV as
usual. He never had to do dishes…or any other chores besides making
his bed, which he rarely did. He was 9 and she was 12; they were
always treating him like he was younger than he was. She had been
doing chores since she was 7, why hadn’t he? She tried teaching him
responsibility by asking him to help with little jobs like putting away
the forks and spoons or matching the socks before they were washed.
Handing him the glass had gotten her in worse trouble; she’d been
accused of giving away a job. She stood up for herself for once, regretting
her words as they left her mouth, “Dad, I’m not. I can’t do two
things at once. You asked me to do the dishes. I was. I wasn’t eating
anything. Then you ask me to get you water. I can’t do both. I got the
glass, I put ice in it and I’m going to finish the bigger job. All Zach has
to do is put water in it.”
Her father nearly moved to hit her, but her mother actually stopped him.
“She has a point. Just go do the dishes, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart? Seriously, how old did they think she was? She silently
went and finished the job.
She’d been sent to do the dishes, so she missed watching Law
and Order SVU. They didn’t let her do them during the commercials
tonight. She was upset; she loved that show. She empathized with the
victims…now she’d lost her book and her light bulb…
She fell into a tortured sleep…
So involved with reading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory she never
heard the door open, but she felt the book ripped from her hand and the yell.
“What do you think you are doing? You think we sent you back here to
read? You were sent here to think…”
Then came the first blow. This wasn’t a swat to her bottom with a flat
hand…that was the book coming down on her arm. It kept landing on
her; the spine on the book hurt worse than the cover of the book. She dove
off the bed to escape…she scrambled trying to get away, but she wasn’t very
quick and the area between the beds was small…he was over six feet and
very fast. Tears streamed down her face, cries of pain escaped her lips…
“How dare you? What are you thinking…”
The blows stopped. She crumbled to the floor crying…
Her mother, who had a broken hip prosthesis, had her father by the
throat. “You ever hit my daughter with anything other than your hand
again. I will hurt you myself.”
“She was being defiant…”
“You sent her back here for an hour and said you’d get her when her
time was up…you fell asleep, what do you think she’d do? She’d be in
more trouble for sleeping than reading. You can’t ground her from sleeping,
just books. You know how much trouble I went to get her to read…”
“You were asleep too…”
“You kept me up all night. What do you expect…”
She covered her ears; she hated fighting…this fight was her fault…why
couldn’t she obey? She hurt…she was still crying when the door slammed.
She could still hear them yelling, but it wasn’t about her anymore. Zach
was probably watching Magic School Bus or Bill Nye the Science Guy; he
wouldn’t notice anything. She crawled into her bed and curled up with
her giant bear.
She woke up crying. That happened a few weeks ago… she could
almost feel the blows. She would never let herself get that absorbed
again. She couldn’t count on her mother to defend her… why didn’t
her father seem to love her? Why did everything she did have to be
wrong? Was she incapable of being good?
~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was a Friday and Fridays could be fun…sometimes there was no
school. They were going to spend the day at the science museum. If
she behaved well after dinner they would go to Powells’.
Powells’ was heaven on earth, seven and a half stories high and a
block wide in all directions. Different genres were coupled together
in different colored rooms; Classics, Comic books, True crime, Sci Fi
and Fantasy were in the Blue room next to the Coffee shop, which was
Brown. The religion books were with the foreign language books like
Japanese or Spanish in the Red room. She had The Magician’s Nephew
and The Horse and His Boy in Spanish at home; sometimes she read
them side-by-side to see what she knew. The Japanese section had an
entire aisle of manga…not that she could read any of it. She wasn’t
allowed to watch cartoons unless they were Magic School Bus or Carmen
San Diego; they had to be educational. Her Japanese was limited
to what she had learned from the Teach Me series.
She loved the place; only in bookstores did she ever truly feel free.
She was left on order to stand in the children’s section, the Rose Room
and not move. It was an order she gladly followed. She found the book
she had been reading last month, Gypsy. She opened it to page 56 and
began to read. It was the story of a lonely girl and a horse no one could
capture. She was soon absorbed in the book and was sad when she was
finished. She closed the book and put it away. Should she start a new
book or finish one she was reading elsewhere?
Tanya had a quick mind and learned very early to memorize her
page number where she left off in as many as ten books at a time.
She was forever losing her bookmarks and it saved the time of paging
through the book to find her place. Sometimes she remembered
the exact paragraph which helped since she frequented three libraries
and four bookstores. She always had one book ongoing in each.
She glanced through the titles and found the exact copy of Little Lord
Fauntleroy she was reading at Reader’s Guide to Recycled Literature.
She found page 116 and sat down with the book. She finished it and
decided she had time to start a new book. She found the Royal Dairies
series and selected one she hadn’t read before. She sat on the floor and
began to read the ‘diary’ of Katherine of Leon and Castille, the future
Queen of Spain.
Her father rolled up in his Quickie teal sport chair, there was a difference
between sports chairs and wheelchairs, a difference growing
up with disabled parents one learned. A wheelchair is like what you
get sent out of a hospital with; those are heavy, over a hundred pounds
sometimes. A sports chair was lighter by comparison; you could play
basketball or rugby in them or even race. Her dad’s chair weighed
about 25-30lbs; even a kid could easily lift it. “We’re going. They’ll
close in ten minutes.”
She nodded and read the page number, 87. She whispered it under
her breath as she returned the book and followed him. If he had been
in good mood he might have let her pick one out to take home but
not tonight and she knew better than to ask. They rode the elevator
from the Rose room to the floor of the Orange room. They would
cut through the cards and contemporary art books to get to the front
where they would meet her little brother and her mother. Zach was
already sitting in Mom’s lap as they waited in line. Mom’s sport chair
was a deep purple and folded to the size of a medium suitcase, it was
around 15 lbs she was sure. Not that it ever mattered. She rarely paid
attention when she had to put them away in the car.
The overheard speaker announced they were closing in five minutes
and to bring all selections to the front counter. They ALWAYS closed
down Powells’; they almost always closed every place they went. She
was a little tired; she would probably be asleep before they reached the
freeway. She was very good at falling asleep in the car if she didn’t have
a book. It was almost eleven thirty and it was far too dark to read now.
They made their way to the car; they had parked in the lot belonging
to a Print shop. The only thing mom hated about Powells was
that it was in the Rainbow district. She didn’t care, though she did
think it was a little funny to see two guys hold hands or kissing but it
didn’t really bother her. What was so wrong about it? She yawned and
climbed into the car. Sleep sounded really good.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sent to their room after a phone call, they were supposed to be
going to the Science Museum and then Powells. Yet Tanya and Zach
were playing Clue; Tanya was Miss Scarlet again as always and Zach
was Professor Plum. The doorbell rang; Tanya peeked out the window
and saw a Police car. It shocked her, what was going on?
She tried to pretend everything was normal for Zach’s sake but
something was very wrong. Her family was strange; she didn’t like
it. She always wanted to run away…to find somewhere she felt safe. A
place she could actually smile…where she felt loved…did such a place
exist? What was so different about them? Why didn’t she go to a real
school? Why wasn’t she allowed to play like the kids next door? She
heard a noise and shoved the game board under the bed, probably losing
pieces.
Soon her mom opened the door, “Zach….” Her voice was husky
from tears, “Zach, come here…I want to talk to you…”
Now she was alone, she was scared and confused. She curled up
with a book and tried to escape. She read until her mother came and
got her too.
She sat on the ottoman and her mother was hugging her. It was
strange…
“The detective wants to ask you some questions…”
Tanya blinked. A detective? Where was her father and where was
Zach? Something was very wrong….
A very nice lady smiled at her, “My name is Detective Jefferies; I’m
going to ask you some questions.”
Tanya nodded, she’d be happy to answer any questions. She tried to
be a good girl…
“Has your father ever touched you down there…” the detective gestured
below her waist.
“No…”
“Have you ever seen him touch anyone else…”
“No...”
“Has anyone everyone ever mentioned being touched in a way that
made them uncomfortable…”
Tanya shook her head; then she remembered her father helping to
teach an older kid Jake to make sure he made it to the bathroom so he
could get out of diapers. His older brother, Matthew had started wetting
the bed recently…well before they stopped visiting. A snippet of
an SUV episode ran through her head. It had mentioned bed wetting
as a sign of abuse…usually sexual. Her heart twisted. She’d respected
Matthew as a friend. They were both the oldest in their families and
were often left to baby-sit together when their parents decided to go
out together…
Tanya shook her head at most of the questions. A picture was starting
to form in her mind and everything was falling to place thanks
to her favorite show. Her father was a probably a pedophile yet he had
never touched her; in fact he always seemed to hate her. She started to
cry, “Please tell me he didn’t touch Zach…” she was the older sister;
she was supposed to protect him. Sure Zach was annoying but what
little brother wasn’t?
The detective shook her head, “It doesn’t seem like it. He must have
been too young.”
Tanya felt the stiff arms of her mother wrap around her and she
shook free, “I don’t think you need me…I’m going back to my room.”
She left them trying to calm herself and understand this. Her father
was a pedophile…he had touched boys her age, she knew he had. She
covered her mouth; her friends… no…the kids she hung out with at
church were boys. Not them. She asked, “God how could you let this
happen? They had enough problems; those boys come from broken
homes, blended families, or were pushed aside for younger siblings
with disabilities. They didn’t need him to do this to them. What kind
of God lets kids get hurt…” Her family was in pieces, it had already
been falling apart but it was worse now. She didn’t have a father anymore;
hers was a criminal, an abuser. How could she look any of her
former playmates in the face again? Somehow she had known that, the
way he always threatened to throw her through the living room wall so
she would land hard on the concrete floor. The way he would call her
stupid and claimed she couldn’t do anything right.
Her mother was always sleeping and was barely there; she didn’t
have anyone to turn to…she was alone. She’d always been alone; she
wanted someone, anyone to care. She was tired of being forgotten and
left alone. Zach was always in his own world. They were light years
apart…
If someone, anyone had listened to her cries could this have been
prevented? Could those boys have been spared the pain? Could she…
should she have seen it?
Tanya rocked back and forth, “He’s gone…but I feel more alone
than ever…I still don’t feel safe…I want to hate him…like he hated
me…why…”
Tears fell down her face; her mind filled with questions that would
never be answered…pain that would follow her, a betrayal that would
never be forgotten…even if she were….
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