Ten Times Guilty (18 page)

“The Rape Center?”

“Goodness no. In those days, there was no such thing. No, my help came from my man.” Suzy’s face softened. “My husband.”

Tracy didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to seem intrusive, but at the same time, she couldn’t help but be curious about this woman and her easy way of dealing with what had happened to her.

“Would it be too painful for you to tell me about it?”

“No, honey, it’s not so painful now. It was a long time ago, and thanks to Mother Nature, details tend to get hazy. Wonderful thing, nature. Otherwise, how could we go on living? Anyway, it’s a familiar story.

“You see,” she continued, “I always wanted to paint. Landscapes, you know. So a friend and I took a night class at a school not too far from where I live. My husband was good about driving us there, but on that night he was away on a fishing trip. My friend arranged a ride with someone, and we were going to really splurge and take a cab home afterward. Like rich folks, you know. But when it was over, Lenny, a man also taking lessons, offered us a ride and we took it. Neither of us saw any harm in it. We didn’t know him very well, just on speaking terms in class, but he always seemed so nice that we had no reason to be suspicious. And everything went along fine. For a while.

“We both had to get up front. The back was all packed up with odds and ends. Since my friend was going to get out first, I got in the middle. But when we got to my house, he wouldn’t let me out. The door was stuck, you see. He’d had to come around and open it from the outside to let my friend out.

“I still wasn’t suspicious. As a matter of fact, I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to make him feel bad when he was nice enough to give us a ride. Anyway, that’s where it happened, parked in front of my own home.”

She was quiet a few minutes.

“What happened then?” Tracy asked.

“When he got all through, he acted like it wasn’t a big deal, and besides, according to him, it was all my fault. I had ‘led him on.’ My leg brushed against his in the car, you know.

“After he dumped me out of the car, somehow I made it inside my house, and there I stayed for a couple of days until my husband got home. Thank God for my husband.” She sat in silent thought for a moment, then laughed.

“Talk about a shiner! I was a mess, but my husband took care of me and loved me just the same. He treated me like I was the most beautiful woman in the world.” She smiled with just a hint of moisture in her eyes.

“You must have loved him very much,” Tracy said.

“Oh Lord, honey, he was my life. My lover, best friend, parent when I needed it, and, my psychiatrist. He was such a good listener. When he died, part of me died. Took a while for me to start living again.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought up sad memories.”

“Oh no,” Suzy assured her. “I’m not sad when I think about him. I’m grateful I was lucky enough to have had someone like him. Not everybody does. And now, because of his help, maybe I can be a good listener for you.”

She stood and picked up her purse. “But not today. I think we’ve talked enough today. I’m going to leave now and let you rest, but I’ll be back tomorrow for the meeting. Sharon told you about that, didn’t she?”

Tracy nodded.

“I’d like to talk to you again. Is that okay?”

“I’d like that very much.” As soon as she said it, she realized how true it was.

“Meanwhile,” Suzy said, “I’d like for you to think about your feelings and maybe we can sort them out together.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

The next day Tracy sat in the chair while Linda took her vital signs and straightened the bed. She scooted around, trying to take the pressure off the stitches.

Diana had called earlier that morning, and although she assured Tracy that Ritchie was fine, Tracy needed to see her son, to hold him and make sure he was safe. She hoped the doctor would release her today. She was losing time, time she needed to get her life back in order. She couldn’t afford any more delays.

A kitchen worker brought in a breakfast tray.

“Now you eat as much as you can,” Linda said. “A bite of toast here, a nibble of something there, that’s not going to get you well, you know. I’ll be back later to check on you. Now you eat.”

Tracy took a sip of juice then lifted the lid off the plate. A bowl of something white. Oatmeal? Cream of Wheat? Whatever it was, it had a cherry in the center, half dunked. Oh well, if she could get her strength back, then she could go home and fix her own breakfast. She took a small bite, another, then pushed it away. After trays were picked up, she lay her head back and closed her eyes.

Sometime later Suzy breezed into the room, carrying three paper bags.

“Well! Look at you.”

Although she should have been prepared for Suzy’s eccentric appearance, Tracy was still taken aback when she saw what Suzy wore. A pink t-shirt provided a clashing background for jewel-colored rhinestones, arranged in alternate stripes of green, red, blue, and yellow. Pink poly pants flared at her ankles, and dangle earrings—a sparkling array of red sequins on little balls—brushed the top of her shoulders. On her feet, colored stones sparkled in a flowered design against dyed pink tennis shoes. Laughing, she twirled around, a flat-footed pirouette, then stuck out a foot.

“Made them myself,” she said “I just love sparkles, all kinds. Get well soon and I just might make a pair for you.” She eyed Tracy. “You know something? If you’re sitting on that chair, you could just as easy sit in a wheelchair and get out of this room awhile.”

Tracy wasn’t too sure about that. In one way, it was tempting, as this room was all she’d seen for three days. But going through the door, going out there, was another matter. There were people out there. People who might stare.

“I passed the nicest little alcove, really private. You’ll love it.” Suzy disappeared through the door, then returned shortly pushing a wheelchair. Linda trailed behind.

“So, you’re going for a ride,” Linda said. “How nice!” She came around to lock the brakes on the wheelchair.

“I’m not going.”

“Nonsense!” Suzy said. “It’ll do wonders for you to see the other half for a change.” She kept right on making preparations as she talked, making sure Tracy’s robe was buttoned, then getting a brush to run through her hair.

“I can’t go anywhere. Dr. Cole will be making his rounds and I have to be here.”

“Nice try, but it won’t work. This is Sunday. No rounds today.”

“All right!” Tracy pulled her robe tighter around her neck. “Suzy, you’re a bully. I never would have suspected it, but behind that sweet grandmotherly façade, there’s someone in there that’s not too nice. But if people stare, promise you’ll bring me back.”

“Promise.” Suzy held up her right hand, all fingers bent except for the first and little finger. “Scout’s honor.”

“That’s not the Scout sign.”

“That’s okay, because I’m not a Scout.” Before anything more could be said, Suzy pushed the chair and Linda trailed behind. “We’re off!”

“Oh God,” Tracy muttered.

When they were settle in the alcove, Suzy picked up one of the bags she brought and took out covered plastic containers, a plastic knife and fork, paper plates, and several paper napkins.

Tracy watched in amazement. “You’ve got apple pie in there, I bet.”

“Nope. Something better.” Suzy lifted the lids off several containers. “I saw the hospital version of Chinese food and believe me, you don’t want it. Now this will put some meat on your bones and give you some strength.”

Tracy’s eyes widened as Suzy unpacked barbecue ribs, meaty and dripping with sauce, potato salad, strawberries, and a big slab of chocolate cake.

“A feast!” she said. “Everything I love and haven’t had in ages.”

“Dig in,” Suzy told her. “Don’t be bashful.” She watched with obvious enjoyment as Tracy sat up and took a big bite of the ribs, getting sauce all over her chin. Suzy dug in her purse again and brought out a dampened washcloth.

Tracy wiped her face. “Have some. I’ll be nice and share.”

“Thanks, sure glad you asked. I love them.” Suzy helped herself to a rib. “But I want you to eat most of them. You can’t expect your body to work right if you don’t feed it, you know. When my boys were growing up and they’d get down with something, I’d cook up a storm. Everybody thought I was wrong, but my boys didn’t stay down long.”

After finishing their brunch, Suzy cleaned up the mess and sat down. She dug in her bag again for her gumdrops.

“Have to have them, you know. No matter how good or filling a meal is, if I don’t top it off with something sweet, I just don’t feel satisfied. Then I’m nibbling. But I usually nibble anyway, so I can’t win. Want some?”

“What about the cake?”

“That’s for you. Oh, don’t look at me that way, I’m not so noble; I had a big piece before I left.” She laughed and patted her tummy. “Love to cook, and I love to eat. You go ahead.”

“That was wonderful. Thanks,” Tracy said when she had eaten her fill.

Suzy put the containers away, tucked her legs under her and got comfortable.

“Ready to talk?” she asked. “Let’s sort out your feelings. Together.”

“Oh, Suzy, I don’t know.” Tracy felt so many things she didn’t think it was possible to sort them out. She wasn’t sure she wanted to. The only way she had been able to get this far was to not think as much as possible. “I’m not sure I can tell you anything. I don’t know if I can put how I feel into words. Do you really think it will help?”

“I think it’s worth a try. You know, if I have something unpleasant nagging at me, I don’t always want to face it either. I keep putting it off, hoping it’ll go away. But somehow, that doesn’t happen. Sometimes a person just has to face it eye to eye, and fight it that way.”

“That’s a terrific philosophy, but in real life...”

“It is real life. Take you, for instance. You can push it out of your mind, heal all up on the outside, leave the hospital and go home. But if you haven’t healed on the inside, all you’ve done is put a band-aid on the top. And just like a dirty wound that hasn’t been cleansed, the inside begins to fester, and you run the risk of becoming an emotional cripple.

“If that happens, what then? Will you be able to function as a woman, as a mother for your son? Can you help him through life if you have this festering wound inside of you?”

Tracy thought of the janitor. All he had been trying to do was mop the floor, but because of her fears, he had almost lost his job. Who knew what else could happen through the years?

“It’s all so complicated,” she said, “but I’ll try. If you’ll help me.”

“Of course I will, honey. You’re already over the biggest hurdle. Now, let’s start with your gut feelings. What’s the first thing you feel when you think about the rape?”

“Fear.”

“All right, tell me about the fear.”

Tracy gazed out the window. The sun had disappeared and the sky was overcast, with low dark clouds over the foothills forming diagonal streaks. She had lived in the city long enough to recognize rain in the distance.

“Terror,” she finally said. “For the first time in my life, I felt absolute, total terror. He could have killed me so easily, actually killed me. And I knew it.” She thought for a moment. “You always hear people say, ‘If it had been me, I would have done this, or I would have done that’. It’s nonsense! When you realize, really know with absolute certainty that your life could be snuffed out as easily as snuffing out a candle, all your great ideals fly out the window. They don’t mean a thing. You find yourself doing anything, anything, to live just a little longer.”

Suzy reached over to take Tracy’s hand.

“And when you live through it, “ Tracy continued, “you’re so grateful to be alive. It’s only later you realize things have changed. Not so much that you’d notice it right away, but in little ways. Realistically, you know the danger has passed, because you’re alive. But the terror is still there. It hasn’t left.”

She made a sound, as if laughing at herself.

“I’ve always prided myself on being so calm, so rational,” she continued. “But now it’s just like I’m a child again, afraid of the dark.”

“It’s not so strange,” Suzy said. “You’ve been violated. Brutally. It’s only human for you to feel that way. Most victims do, you know. It’s human nature to think bad things only happen to the other person. It’s not that you wish harm to them; it’s just a type of security we have in our everyday lives. Every day we see or hear of terrible accidents on the freeway. If we didn’t have a sense of personal security, how would we ever be able to get into a car? Or walk in the park? Someone took your security away. And it’s frightening.”

Tracy’s eyes held Suzy’s. “Do you ever get it back?”

“It takes a while, but you bet, honey. I’m living proof that there’s life after rape. I’m just a lot more careful in my choices, that’s all.”

“But Suzy,” Tracy’s hands twisted in her lap, “I have nothing left. Of me. No pride, no dignity. I-I begged him!” Her eyes shimmered. “I begged him not to hurt me.”

Suzy rose and put her arms around Tracy. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of. The will to live is just about the strongest thing on earth. Go on, now. You’re doing good. What else do you feel?”