A Shadow of Death in The Woods (22 page)

BOOK: A Shadow of Death in The Woods
10.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Chapter 36

The Confession

 

Lydia was pacing the floor in her apartment. She was trying to figure out how to tell Jack her inner most secret. She had never talked to a living soul about her secret. She had no girl friends and the only two people she trusted were her father and Bob. She couldn’t talk to her father about her secret because he didn’t know who killed the boy. She couldn’t talk with Bob about her feelings. She couldn’t even tell her therapist the full story and that was a big problem.

Lydia had lived without a social life. She had trouble getting along with people because none of them could think as fast as she. It always frustrated her to have to wait for people to get it and some never got it. Because of this and her bad experience in high school Lydia had escaped into the world of mathematics.

Lydia loved mathematics. Mathematics never tricked or lied to you. Once proved, you could always depend on it. Proved on Monday it was still proved on Friday. It was dependable and it was a challenge. Above all it was safe.

She liked the fact that she was so good at something most people had a difficult or perhaps impossible time with. Ordinary math was easy and she moved on to complex math. When she used math in her consulting work, it was usually lower level math but she could apply it to interesting problems and come up with creative solutions. That was exciting and it didn’t depend on people. It was all computable. It was dependable and safe. It was her world.

Without a social life Lydia saw people as two dimensional beings, sort of like cartoon characters. Even her father and Bob were two dimensional to her. She hadn’t realized this until she met Jack and got to know him.

Jack was the first person that she had spent enough time with to see his many dimensions. Perhaps the first awakening was in the forest when Jack fell to his knees in some kind of horrible mental anguish. At the time it scared the bee-gees out of her. But later after she thought about it she realized that Jack had demons like she had. Different demons but demons just the same. It made her realize that there was more to Jack than what you saw.

Then the time she accidentally came upon him in the field that she now knew was very special to Jack, she saw that he had tears in his eyes. Somehow she never imagined a man crying. It was something new to her. It was like a switch. It turned on a whole new thought process for her. It was like Jack ballooned from a two dimensional being to a multidimensional being right before her eyes. Suddenly she had empathy for him that she had not felt for anyone before.

In many ways it scared her but in other ways it excited her. Jack wasn’t the big bozo that she first thought when meeting him. Over time she learned how kind and caring he was but now she intuitively understood that Jack had many demons. She had one enormous demon. Jack might have even more demons but they may not be as debilitating as hers.

She saw him as a possible person that she could confide in. She was sure if she could talk about what happened, it would help her. But how to start? She had been thinking about it all day and still didn’t know how to go about it. It had taken her months of thinking just to decide to tell him.

Jack had invited her over for dinner as usual. The invitation was a formality that he stuck with but they both knew that he was going to invite her. She had been eating at his place for months on weekends. During the summer when she lived in The Cabin full time, she was eating there every day. At first it embarrassed her. He didn’t want any money for the food.

She was on a tight budget. She had a hard time making ends meet. The trips to the mountains were expensive in gas money and miles on her car but they were essential for her mental health. Bob knew this, which is why he let her stay in The Cabin free. The free food also helped her budget.

She didn’t know how much money Jack made but she knew it was obscene. Plus he was living at The Cabin free although he had to manage The Cabin. He had a company car with all car expenses paid. And a Lexus no less. He had money to burn. She didn’t like the idea of him handing her charity but then one day she realized that he needed her to eat with him. He was incapable of eating by himself. She found out from Momma that during the week he seldom ate at The Cabin. He always ate at her restaurant in the front where the people were and not in the back where he would be alone. Furthermore she found out that instead of coming home from Momma’s he went to The Gin Mill in the evening. He didn’t drink much but he couldn’t face his apartment alone. Jack needed her to eat with him.

On top of that he loved to cook. Sometimes he made fancy dishes that she didn’t even know existed. Most of the time he cooked what he called basic food, meat, potatoes, vegetables and he always baked bread. He said that it was the only way to get “real” bread. Store bread or, manufactured bread as he called it, was full of unnecessary ingredients. Manufactured bread had too much sugar in it. Our grandparents never heard of putting so much sugar in bread. Our society was loading bread with sugar to the point that it was sweet. People loved it. Jack said that sugar was causing the obesity epidemic. After thinking about it and checking a few facts she agreed with him but the real reason she ate his bread was because she loved it. It had texture, body and taste. After a while store bread didn’t taste good to her. She never had an interest in cooking so all she could arrange were peanut butter sandwiches. Jack knew this and he gave her bread to take home. At first she resisted what she thought of as charity but then she realized that it was part of Jack’s makeup and he needed to do it. It was a revelation to her. She had never thought about people like this before. She had never known anyone like Jack.

Through careful sleuthing she had found out what they were having tonight. He was cooking a pot roast. She loved his pot roasts. He knew just how she liked her meat cooked and he did it just right. She didn’t have to ask. She knew he would have mashed potatoes to go with it. He always cooked mashed potatoes except when they were having a casserole. Mashed potatoes can sound boring and in a restaurant they usually are boring. Jack however made delicious mashed potatoes. She watched him do it a few times. He boiled the potatoes first. That is a step that she couldn’t complete successfully. She usually burned the potatoes. He then added whole milk and butter. The result was mouthwatering. If he put cream in, it was even better but harder on the waist.

There was another big exception to mashed potatoes. Occasionally he made homemade french fries. Sometimes he did these with the potatoes cut like you see at MacDonald’s and sometimes he made them in single slices so they were cut in disks. In either case he deep fried them in fresh oil, which rarely happens in a restaurant and he used fresh potatoes rather than frozen potatoes, which never happens in a restaurant. He carefully dried the potatoes on paper towels to remove all excess oil. The result was fabulous. There was no comparison between his french fries and the fast food french fries. She didn’t know french fries could be so delicious.

Then there would be at least one vegetable and often two. The choices usually depended on what was in season in Marty and Jack’s truck garden. He also served a variety of side dishes like pickled beets, olives, celery stalks, etc. Whatever it was, it would be good and it would be organic, which Lydia thought was a good idea. She thought all of his cooking was a good idea but she was unable, or perhaps unwilling, to learn how to do it. The only exception was his desserts. They were fattening. He knew this and didn’t make them often but she loved them when he did.

Well, it was time to go over to Jack’s and set the table. Setting the table and cleaning up afterwards were her contributions. She walked in, said hi and went to the drawer for silverware. The plates were in the warming oven. She saw a bottle of wine open and resting in the kitchen so she got out wine glasses. Jack was in a jovial mood. He always acted cheerful even when he was depressed but today she could see that he was genuinely happy about something. It struck her that she was proud of the fact that she could tell when he was really happy or when he was acting. She was becoming a regular person.

She probed for the source of happiness but she got nowhere. He just grinned and said that he had a surprise for her.

He got the pot roast out of the oven and put it on a warm platter. It looked great and smelled even better. He then put the vegetables in heated serving dishes. He said it was dumb putting hot food in cool dishes. It sapped heat out of the food. They were having carrots and, separately, peas. There was freshly baked bread and butter from a local farm. They got the food to the table and started eating. Jack had chosen a Malbec wine to go with the pot roast. She didn’t have the words to describe how good the whole meal was. The big challenge was not eating too much.

Then Jack sprung his surprise and what a surprise it was. He went to the kitchen and came back with a birthday cake and wished Lydia happy birthday. It was a surprise because she had forgotten that today was her birthday and it was a surprise because almost no one knew when her birthday was. Bob had to be the blabber mouth. Or maybe Jane. Normally Lydia would have been upset with the breach of privacy but Jack was so happy and proud of his cake that she was swept up in his happiness.

Then he gave her a card. He had printed, “Not knowing enough about your likes to buy you an appropriate gift, I decided to give you the gift of my friendship. I hope you are willing to accept my friendship.” She knew enough about Jack to knew that this was not a romantic card. It should be taken at face value. It brought tears to her eyes. Jack might be her first friend since high school or perhaps ever. She couldn’t remember for sure. And to extend his thoughtfulness he had left candles off the cake. It was a happy moment. It should have made her task of telling him her secret easier but it didn’t. She still did not know how to tell him. The cake was out of this world with thick creamy frosting. They were going to have to run a few extra miles in the morning.

They moved to his living room to have brandy. They often did this. She thought Jack used it as a way to extend the evening’s company as long as possible. She was getting to know him pretty well. She knew he enjoyed The Cat’s company a lot.

Just then The Cat lumbered through on his way to Jack’s bedroom. For reasons unknown to humans, he liked to sleep on Jack’s bed. She knew Jack had a special cloth for The Cat to sleep on. She was sort of getting used to The Cat sleeping on Jack’s bed. Besides there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

Lydia and Jack settled down, each with a glass of Bob’s homemade apple brandy. Most of The Cabin group were addicted to it. Men enjoyed brandy more than women, she thought, but she liked it. They had a lot of wine at dinner and after a few sips of brandy she was tipsy but led into her secret.

She told Jack how when in high school she never had dates because she was taller than almost all the boys. Then one day, an older boy asked her on a date. She was so thrilled. It was her first date and she didn’t know how to handle herself. He suggested that they go to a secluded spot to neck. She was so anxious to please that she agreed. Things proceeded faster than she wished and the boy would not stop. He raped her.

She was only sixteen. It was horrible. It felt like everyone blamed her for leading him on. She was so inexperienced that she didn’t know what was right and what was wrong. Adding to the horror was the fact that she had no one to talk to.

Then Bob and two of his army buddies came home. Right after that the boy disappeared. Everyone assumed that the boy ran away because everyone knew what he had done. She didn’t believe it. Right after the boy disappeared, Bob and his buddies went back to the army. She believed that Bob, Paul and Mike killed the boy. The boy was never heard from again.

She had known for years that she needed counseling and in fact she had gone to a psychiatrist for years but she could not tell the whole story. Her psychiatrist knew that Lydia was holding back something so she thought that Lydia didn’t trust her, which was partly true. She couldn’t talk about the murder. It had been a nightmare. She had never told anyone this before. It would destroy her life if Jack ever told anyone what she had told him.

He just sat looking at her. Finally, he began to speak. He said, “Let’s look at this logically. Point number one is that you did not want to be raped. You are not responsible for being raped. You did not lead the guy on. All of this is BS that society, mostly men, likes to feed you. I don’t know why they do this but it is all untrue. You were the victim of an attack. The boy was the cause and the only guilty one.

“Point number two, you don’t know that Bob, Paul and Mike killed anyone. You just think you know. There is a big difference. I happen to agree with you that they probably did it but that doesn’t make it true. But for sake of argument let us assume that they did kill the boy. That is not your fault. They made the decision to kill and did the killing. You didn’t cause that to happen. That was purely Bob’s reaction to the situation. You had no control over what he may have done.

“Point number three, you describe yourself as damaged goods. This is false. You have had an extremely bad experience, none of which was your doing or your fault. We all carry with us our history of experiences, good and bad. That is what makes us who we are. We cannot change that. However, we can manage how we react to the experiences. We can chose to overcome bad experiences and become stronger people.

“Point number four, what you tell yourself is important. You can affect how you feel by what you tell yourself. I know that sounds dumb but it is true. You need to stop telling yourself that you are guilty of the rape and guilty of getting the boy killed. Both of these notions are false but when you keep telling yourself these things, they become your truth. It is really important that you start practicing how to tell yourself the real truth. The real truth is that you were a victim and you can manage the consequences. You can feel better.

Other books

Fair Play by Emerson Rose
Obsession by Maya Moss
Homer Price by Robert McCloskey
204 Rosewood Lane by Debbie Macomber
Genocidal Organ by Project Itoh
Eight Hundred Grapes by Laura Dave
Trace of Innocence by Erica Orloff
Alpha Fighter by Ava Ashley
The Unburied Dead by Douglas Lindsay
Palomino by Danielle Steel