The Rise of Rachel Stark (12 page)

But she couldn't remember what had
happened and why she was lying in the snow behind the
mausoleum.

The cloudless sky allowed the full
moon to light the way for her, but it also allowed whatever warmth
there was on earth to escape into space, and the temperature had
long since dropped below freezing.

The road at this point had always
seemed so level when she rode home in her Dad's pickup, but she
knew she had a long, uphill walk home. She was unaware that blood
was still slowly draining down her legs, running into her shoes,
soaking into her dress and dripping onto the road, where it quickly
froze. Each step was painful, and she stopped often. Sometimes she
bent over and placed her hands on her knees, waiting for the pain
to subside. Sometimes she kneeled on the frozen gravel until the
pain from kneeling was worse than the pain in her groin.

She thought about Jimmy. She
wished he was there to make her laugh, to tell her everything was
going to be all right. It kept her going. To think about
Jimmy.

Suddenly she heard a high-pitched
whine in her ears that seemed to come from the middle of her head.
A wave of nausea came over her. The road seemed to buckle, and she
felt herself being tossed about.

She crashed onto her knees, and
she felt the frozen stones tearing into her flesh. She pitched
forward, and she could not find her hands in time to keep her face
from smacking into the gravel.

There she lay, in the middle of
the road, unconscious.

When she awoke, she saw that she
was at the driveway to her home. She crawled across the road and
started down the driveway on her hands and knees. She tried several
times to get up, but fell each time.

Finally, cold, tired, bleeding and
confused, she managed to open the door to the trailer and crawl
inside. She shut the door behind her. Everyone was asleep, so she
crawled into the living room and huddled in front of the little
electric heater there.

She jerked and gave a little
scream when the living room light came on.

"I heard you come in, Rache – oh
my God! Rachel, what happened?" her mother said.

"Benjamin! Benjamin! Come here!"
Holly screamed. She kneeled beside Rachel. "Honey, your face. Your
dress. You're bleeding. What happened?"

Benjamin came running. The little
kids were crying. "Shut up!" he yelled at them. "Shut up and go
back to sleep!"

Shut up.

Rachel remembered.

Hey, you're making snow angels,
honey. Shut up!

Tell that stinking little brother
of yours – Shut up!

"They raped me," she said
softly.

"Who did?" Benjamin
demanded.

"Oh no. Oh no. Oh my god," Holly
said, sobbing.

"Holly, for god's sakes, get ahold
of yourself. Get a washcloth and clean her up. Look at her face."
Holly ran into the kitchen.

Benjamin put his arm around
Rachel, who was still sitting on the floor in front of the
heater.

"Honey, tell me what happened. Who
raped you?"

Rachel tried to get up but
couldn't.

"Rachel?"

She turned to him.

"I don't know. They were wearing
ski masks."

"They? There was more than
one?"

"Two of them."

"They both raped you? Both of
them?"

"Yes. I think so."

"Oh my god. Where was this? Where
did it happen?"

"In the cemetery. I remember.
Jimmy and the rest … dropped me off there. Like they always
do."

Holly returned with a wet
washcloth. She kneeled on the floor beside Rachel.

"You have a cut on your face,"
Holly said as she wiped the blood.

"I hurt," Rachel said.

"I'll put a bandage on it,
sweetheart," Holly said.

"Not my face," Rachel said. "It's
not my face."

Holly turned to look at Benjamin.
"We have to get her dress off and stop the bleeding," she
said.

"Then I'm taking you to the
hospital," Benjamin said.

●●●

Forty-five minutes later they were
in the Neehawk General Hospital emergency room. Rachel slept the
entire way, her head on her father's shoulder as he
drove.

The ER physician, Dr. Green,
carrying a clipboard, came out after he had finished examining and
treating Rachel to talk to Benjamin, who was alone in the waiting
room. The doctor was tall and grandfatherly, with a shock of silver
hair and a benign expression. His appearance immediately put
Benjamin at ease. They shook hands, and the doctor sat in the
padded chair next to Benjamin.

"She'll be all right; she'll be
fine," the doctor said, looking over the papers attached to his
clipboard. "She does have lacerations to the hymen and bleeding
consistent with that of a young woman who has been raped. She has
lost some blood, but it has been stopped.

"Her pulse was a bit elevated,
which is quite understandable. Rape is a very traumatic experience,
and from the laceration and scrapes and bruises on her face and the
lacerations and abrasions on her hands and knees, it appears her
rape might have been particularly violent. We gave her a very mild
sedative, mostly to help her sleep tonight. There is no reason she
can't go home now. But first I wanted to talk to you in private for
a minute. There are a few things you should know.

"Rachel is considerably calmer
than most rape victims I have treated. I noticed that even before
we administered the sedative. But that is not abnormal. There is no
typical response among rape victims. Many women are agitated, even
hysterical. Others, like Rachel, are calm.

"But don't let Rachel's calm
demeanor lull you into thinking that everything is OK with her. She
may be calm on the outside, and in turmoil on the inside. In other
words, she might be hiding her emotions, repressing them. And that
is not a particularly good thing by any means. It can lead to
severe depression and other serious psychological problems in the
long term. So keep a close eye on her and her behavior. Keep in
close touch with her, especially in the first few weeks. And make
sure she knows that you and her mother and the rest of the family
are there for her, whatever her needs might be. She is going to
need all the love and support she can get.

"Tell me, is Rachel in
school?"

"She's a senior at Chante
High."

"I recommend you keep her out of
school for at least a week. Maybe more, depending how she's doing.
How you clear that with the school is up to you. I can only tell
you, and you didn't hear this from me, that many teenage victims of
rape suddenly are stricken with severe cases of the flu that can
keep them out of school for up to a week. And if they need more
time, they can get mono. You know what I mean?" He gave Benjamin a
smile. Benjamin smiled back.

"But seriously …"

Dr. Green lifted the clamp on his
clipboard and pulled out a pamphlet.

"We don't get an excessive number
of rape victims here," he said, "but we give all of them this
pamphlet. It has a lot of information that can help you and the
family make sure Rachel recovers from this trauma as quickly and as
completely as possible. It can answer a lot of questions you might
have in the weeks and months to come.

"I mentioned that you and your
wife should keep a close eye on Rachel in the beginning,
especially."

He opened the pamphlet and ran his
finger down an inside page.

"Here is a list of things you
might watch for. Vomiting, nausea, anxiety, trembling, nightmares,
crying, disorganized thought, etcetera, etcetera. And if you run
into something that you can't handle or need help with, it shows
you where you can find professional help."

He handed the pamphlet to
Benjamin, who thanked him.

"Any questions?" Dr. Green
asked.

"No, no I don't think so,"
Benjamin said.

"All right," the doctor said.
"Let's go to Rachel's room. I have one more matter I want to talk
about with both of you. And then you can take her home." He gave
Benjamin a smile, and Benjamin followed him down a long, shiny
hallway.

Rachel's eyes were closed when the
doctor drew the curtain aside and he and Benjamin entered her room.
She was lying on a bed under a white cotton blanket that had been
heated before it was placed over her.

Benjamin put his hand on her
shoulder. "How do you feel, Rachel?" he asked.

She opened her eyes. "OK. I'm OK."
She closed them again.

"We have given her an anti-biotic
to help ward off any infection," the doctor said. "If she has any
pain, any over-the-counter painkiller she's not allergic to should
take of it just fine." He moved closer to Rachel's bed.

"Rachel?" he said. "Are you
awake?"

She opened her eyes.
"Yes."

"I need your attention for just a
minute. And then your Dad is going to take you home.
OK?"

"OK."

"I am going to urge you, Rachel,
with the support of your Mom and Dad, to consider reporting the
rape to the police. And this is a question for both of you,
Benjamin. Have you given any thought to that?"

Benjamin turned to
Rachel.

"Honey?"

"I … maybe in a day or two. I'm a
little confused right now," Rachel said. She wanted to talk to her
friends. She wanted to talk to Jimmy. They would know what to
do.

"Understandable," Dr. Green said.
"But don't wait too long. The legal and law enforcement systems,
not to mention juries, tend to look askance at women who wait to
report a rape. Even waiting a week is considered a long time. Plus,
your memory of the circumstances and the incident itself will fade
in time. That's perhaps a good thing for you, but not so good if
you want to build a good case against your assailant."

"Will the hospital report the
rape?" Benjamin asked.

"Some hospitals do. But it is this
hospital's policy only to recommend that you report the rape to the
police. We will not report the rape unless you ask us
to.

"Even though it takes courage to
report a rape, and even though it can be a tough, painful, scary
process to go through, we strongly urge rape victims to do it.
Rapists who don't get caught and punished tend to rape again and
again. That's why it's so important for rape victims to tell the
police what happened.

"It's the only way to stop these
monsters."

●●●

Rachel slept till noon the next
day, Saturday. Benjamin gave the younger kids strict orders not to
wake her and not to run around "making noise like a bunch of
hooligans."

When she awoke, her first thought
was not about the rape. It was about a dream she had just before
waking. In the dream she was walking through their living room in
her pajamas when suddenly a border collie puppy came bounding
toward her, wagging its tail furiously and wearing a broad
smile.

How wonderful, she thought. But
where did it come from? They had a dog, a mutt they called Pudge,
in Tennessee. But he died of old age not long before they moved to
Nebraska. And how they missed him, old Pudge. And now they had a
new dog, it seemed. She kneeled and reached out both arms, waiting
for the pup. But before she could touch him, she woke
up.

What a nice dream that was, she
thought, lying on her back and staring at the ceiling. She only
wished she could have petted the dog. She pulled the cover back and
swung her feet onto the floor.

Or did that really happen, she
asked herself. Do we really have a new dog?

A wave of excitement shot through
her. She stood up, and wondered for a second why her knees hurt.
She opened the bedroom door and walked quickly into the living
room.

Holly was sitting on the couch,
darning a pair of Benjamin's socks.

"Good morning, honey," she said
with a smile. "How do you feel this morning?"

"Mom, did we get a new
dog?"

Holly knitted her brow. She shook
her head slowly. "N … no. No. What … why …"

Suddenly Rachel remembered. The
images came flooding in. Riding up the hill with Sheldon and her
friends. The thump to her back that nearly knocked her unconscious.
The bright moon over the cemetery as she lay among the headstones.
The whiskey breath of Danny Jackson and Oscar Olney. The fall on
the road that tore up her knees and knocked her out. The long crawl
on her hands and knees down the driveway to the trailer. The kindly
silver-haired doctor standing over her, telling her she was going
to be all right.

"It was just a dream," Rachel
said. "But it seemed so real."

It seemed so very, very
real.

She sat down beside her mother on
the couch and laid her head on Holly's shoulder. Why, she wondered,
why did this happen to me?

Holly put her arms around Rachel
and rocked slowly back and forth.