Ten Times Guilty (33 page)

The next morning Tracy called Suzy.

“Well, what do you want to do?” Suzy asked, just as Tracy had known she would do.

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you.”

“You don’t know?” Suzy said. Tracy could hear the skepticism in her voice.

“For crying out loud!” Tracy was beginning to get irritated at the way Suzy evaded answering questions. “I know what I want to do, I just don’t know if I should.”

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. Let’s look at the pros and cons. Cons first. What do you have against doing the interview?”

“I guess the main reason is the loss of privacy,” Tracy told her. “I don’t know if I can deal with everyone knowing what happened. They’ll judge me, Suzy. And even though it shouldn’t matter, I guess deep down it still does.”

“Let’s face facts,” Suzy said. “Juicy stories like this do sell, and that’s why the magazine wants the story. Ask yourself this. If you agree to the interview, who would it hurt? Would it hurt you, or any of your loved ones?”

“No, there’s no one in my family to be hurt. Ritchie’s too young, and my friends already know the story.”

Suzy waited a moment. “So the only argument against it is that some people might judge you. Anything else? Because if there isn’t, how about the pros? There has to be substantial reasons why you are still considering it. So what are they?”

“Oh, Suzy, only one. Money. And I’m ashamed to be so mercenary about this whole thing.”

“Money is an excellent reason for you to do it. Right now, you need every penny you can beg, borrow or steal. And since you’d never do any of those things, the interview seems a good way for you to get some cash into your hands.”

Tracy sighed. “I just can’t get over the feeling I’d be doing something immoral or unethical, or something. But I also can’t forget that the money will get me into the fall classes.”

“Well, honey, you asked for my opinion, and I’m going to surprise you and tell you, for a change—”

“For a change?” Tracy broke in.

Suzy made an exasperated sound. “Do you mind if I continue?”

“No, go right ahead. As if anyone could stop you,” Tracy said, chuckling.

“Now see here. I seem to recall you called me. Is that not right?”

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry.” Tracy tried to keep from giggling. “Please continue.”

“As I was saying, if doing this interview gets you into that school, go for it.” She was completely serious now. “Tracy, I want you to listen. To hell with anyone’s opinion. Do what you need to do for yourself and that son of yours. It’s your future, babe. Go for it!”

***

Marion: Tracy, you have told us the facts in this case:  you were raped then stalked by the rapist. In the end, you were able to turn him over to the police at gunpoint. My question is, how have you managed to come through all this without losing your sanity?

Tracy: There were times I felt it would be easier if I did go insane, but I couldn’t. My son depended on me. Still does. And when you have someone totally dependent on you, you have to keep going, no matter what. In some ways, I was very fortunate. I had good friends and I met some truly wonderful women at the safe house. And of course, there was Suzy.

Marion: Suzy?

Tracy: Susan Banning from the Rape Crisis Center. Thank God I was fortunate enough to have met her. She helped me get through one of the most difficult periods in my life and I owe her more than I could ever say.

Marion: So, I assume you think highly of the rape centers and feel they should be allowed to continue. How would you justify their expense to the critics?

Tracy: (Pause)  When a woman is raped, different emotions are involved, and most of the time, she needs expert counseling to get through the trauma. I can’t think of anyone else more qualified than the women of the crisis centers. They are mothers, grandmothers, sisters, and, best friends. They don’t criticize, censure, or judge. They offer support and understanding. That’s worth any amount of expense. Otherwise, the victim can be left an emotional cripple.

Marion: Do you think that was what could have happened to you?

Tracy: No question about it. Suzy guided me, sometimes goaded me into searching and finding hidden strengths within myself. You see, I didn’t think I had any. (Pause)  One thing everyone should remember:  What you teach a child today can have life-long results. If you love, encourage, and treat a child with respect and dignity, that child will grow and flourish. But, if you ridicule a child for any reason, you strip him or her of self-worth that may never be recovered.

Marion: Sounds ominous.

Tracy: People don’t always realize how their casual, cutting remarks can scar a child for life. Children, by their very nature, look to adults for guidance. And it doesn’t make any difference if that child loves the adult or not; the child still believes the adult. So, if that adult tells the child that he or she is a slob, for instance, or a screw-up, or that no one wants to hear him, the child believes it. It happened to me. But with Suzy’s help, I think I’m overcoming most of my insecurities.

Marion: Suzy sounds like someone I’d like to meet.

Tracy: (Smiling)  All you have to do is go to County General Hospital and look for someone who catches your eye.

Marion: I don’t understand.

Tracy: You will when you see her!

Marion: I would like to ask something I realize will be very difficult to answer: Could you have pulled the trigger that evening in the park? If so, would it have been for revenge?

Tracy: I’m thankful every day it didn’t come to that. But the answers to your questions take some thought. (Pause)  Rape is a horrendous crime. It’s much more than sexual intercourse with an unwilling partner. It’s a violent, degrading act, sometimes causing damage for the rest of the victim’s life. But, as violent as this crime is, I wanted to kill this man, not for revenge, but because he threatened my son’s life.

As far as killing someone, there are laws against it, of course, and that’s the way it should be. It’s the only way society can survive. Those who disregard the laws, however, damage their psyche in such a way that no amount of rehabilitation can undo the damage. Society must be protected from these few. But lawfully.

Marion: You feel so strongly about the crime of rape, and you’ve talked about Suzy and the crisis center with such respect.  Have you given any thought to joining them to help other victims?

Tracy: Before all this happened, I wanted to attend tech school. But now, I plan to start classes at the university as soon as possible. I hope one day to be as good a counselor to someone in need as Suzy was to me. A tall order, as I don’t think anyone could ever compare with Suzy, but I’m going to try. Especially with one young woman who happens to like black.

Marion: One last question: how do you feel about yourself now?

Tracy: That’s a tough one. I was a victim. But with Suzy’s help, I discovered I’m a strong, capable human being, ready to put the past behind me and go on with my life. I’m so grateful my life was spared that I don’t intend on wasting it by looking back. Suzy believes we all make choices in life, and I choose not to be a victim any longer. I believe that our Creator has given each of us an ability to create positive forces in our life and with help, I became aware of the power within me. I intend to use that power to create a good, positive world for my son, myself, and anyone else who can benefit from my experiences.

Chapter Forty-Two

Lush greenery surrounded the university complex, a ten-block oasis in the middle of the city. Tracy stepped off the bus and gazed at the complex, trying to take everything in all at once. Dogwood trees shaded a goldfish pond on this side of the complex, and beyond the three-story classrooms, brick buildings held the library, bookstore and cafeteria.

The September air was cool and crisp, and the oaks wore their fiery autumn colors. With each step Tracy took, the gold and red leaves made a delightful crunch. She caught the scent of bacon from the cafeteria with the morning breeze.

Adults of all ages and nationalities hurried along. Tracy felt a sense of joy as church bells rang from the steeple of the newly restored chapel on the east side. She would make all this a part of her life now, her life and Ritchie’s.

For the first time, she had hope for her future. She briefly closed her eyes and thought of her grandmother. I made it, Grandma. I’m finally here.

As she walked, some of the old doubts pushed through. Would she be good enough to make it through all those years? Was she smart enough?

Only one thought nagged at her. The article.

The magazine editor had given her a projected date when it was to be published, and Tracy had been relieved that by that time, she would be established in class.

But it hadn’t happened that way. The publishing date had been pushed up and the story had been released two days ago. The payment had been a blessing, and the article had been a fair representation of what had happened. But they had also blown up her picture, and that was something she hadn’t expected.

Now, she might find herself a disturbance to the rest of the class, an object of curiosity. She hoped she wouldn’t be recognized and asked to drop out.

She found her building. Plaques and framed letters of commendation lined the hallway. In her classroom, several young men and women sat talking and looked up when she entered. The instructor, an older woman in dark pleated pants and blazer, wrote on the blackboard.

Even though the room was small, two sides were lined by long windows, giving it an open, airy feeling. One the west side, Tracy could see tree branches gently swaying in the breeze.

Best of all, no one paid attention to her.

Tracy opened her purse and took out a pencil and a pen, and then opened her notebook to the first page. With pride she wrote the name of the human services class, then dated it.

More people filed in, found chairs and sat down. A brunette woman stared at Tracy, then found a seat four rows ahead.

The woman turned in her seat to look at Tracy again. When Tracy glanced up and their eyes met, the woman flushed and turned around.

Tracy knew that she’d been recognized.

As more people came in and sat down. Tracy kept her head down, hoping no one else would spot her.

Suddenly Tracy was aware of whispers, rippling like waves through the class. And then the room went silent.

Tracy felt like a band was tightening around her chest, making it hard to breathe. She stared out the window and fought tears. She wouldn’t cry, not in front of all those people.

Her mind raced. She may have to leave now, but she wanted to be able to walk out with dignity, with her head held high. They might have her now, but she wasn’t beaten. No longer would she let other people’s opinions dictate what she could or couldn’t do.

She could—

Her thoughts were interrupted by a strange sound. She raised her head. 

The brunette was standing by her chair, saying nothing, but she was facing Tracy and clapping her hands. As Tracy watched, incredulous, the woman beside the brunette also rose.

And then, one by one, all of the others stood and faced Tracy.

The sound of applause filled the small room.

Epilogue

Across from the university complex, Reese pulled to the side of the street, watching as Tracy parked her car. All he wanted to do was to make sure she arrived safely—at least that’s what he told himself.

He tracked her crossing the campus, observing her jaunty gait. It had been a long, hard journey, but she had come through just fine. There was little resemblance to the shy, timid girl she had been when he first met her.

She had grown up, come into her own.

He glanced at the heavily treed campus, at the golden leaves scattered on the grounds and breathed the crisp air. Fleeting memories of long-ago football games, of bonfires and victory dances with a special girl made him smile. Ah, youth, the days of fire in the veins.

He turned the key in the ignition. Maybe he’d mosey over to the cemetery. He could talk to Crissy now, let her know her assailant had been caught, although he had a feeling she already knew. And had forgiven him. He’d awakened the last couple of mornings lighter in spirit than any time he could remember.

Then maybe a little later he’d wander back this way, just about the time class was over. Maybe Tracy would be hungry, and he could take her to dinner. Even better, he’d take Tracy and her baby to dinner and then for an ice cream. The kid was cute, much like he’d always wanted a son of his to be. Just as a friendly gesture, of course. Not that Tracy would be interested in a old man like him.