When I arrived she was on the phone with her mother and she seemed very rattled so I sat in the other room and waited. When she hung up she said that her mom told her that her cousin's wife had been raped and she said it was my friends' husband and another guy. I froze. A thousand thoughts raced through my brain. I had never told her what I had heard about her husband and what I had experienced with my husband. To tell her that would have hurt her terribly and I really had no proof. It was only TALK that could really hurt people. I knew it was fact and I was convinced that both men were guilty of rape but I hadn't shared that with anyone. Now that this other woman had brought it out in the open I absolutely believed every word and then some. I still didn't tell her what I had known for a long time: that was enough for one day. I didn't think she could take in any more on the subject. I knew how I felt when I saw those scratches on my husband and I knew she was just as fragile and unable to comprehend what just happened as I was. Looking at her was like looking at myself in the shattered mirror we both shared. Shards of who we used to be.
There was going to be a meeting between the families that eyeing to sort this whole thing out. She never told me what the outcome of that rape was, and I never asked her. There are some things that are just too hard to talk about.
What amazed me was that my friend and her husband had befriended her cousin's wife and had welcomed her into their home and vice versa. She was from overseas and knew very little English and was not very Americanized at all. Now her husband betrayed the friendship and had taken advantage of someone who trusted him. Not only had he victimized someone quite helpless but he didn't care what happened to his wife. I knew enough to watch my back and lock my doors.
I went home feeling a sense of living in a colony of devils or on the underbelly of the dark planet; a place where you could never see what was coming next. How did I get here? It was so foreboding and ominous. Every time this happened I felt attacked by proxy. A little bit more of my trust was stripped away. I was always on guard or high alert. I waited for the other shoe to drop, telling me that my husband was involved. Although nothing came of it, I would never be convinced that my husband was an innocent bystander in any of these events. In time the wound would scab over and vanish as suddenly as it appeared, but it would long be remembered. It damaged so many lives. The couple moved away and later divorced.
The end of preschool was upon us. It was our last fund raiser; an afternoon silent auction and luncheon. We had planned it for months. Next year would be grade school for us. Kindergarten here we come. As I left for the Auction I had a sense of caution. I was picking up a vibe I didn't like. I had to keep my head on straight so I refused to think about it. I was master of ceremonies today and I intended to enjoy every minute of it and bring in the money for our school. My husband fastened my necklace and I left shrugging off the nagging chill at the back of my neck.
When I came home I saw that "tell" again. He was acting strangely sullen. What had he done this time? He insisted on going to buy a rototiller this weekend, He kept harping on a garden and he was obsessed with this idea. I just knew something was wrong enough for me to keep an eye on him. Nothing was meaningless anymore. The next day we left for a trip to get a rototiller. He had to have a certain one that was way out of the area. It would take us all day. When we pulled up the driveway with our purchase I noticed a fighting cock strutting around in our pasture. What is that, I asked him? He couldn't answer me. The message was clear, he had done something bad, exactly what, I didn't know. So there I was blindfolded without a clue, with only instinct to guide me. Eventually I would find out, I always did, but right now I had to wait until it was revealed to me.
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