Boone’s Farm now firmly in hand, Dean eased the screen door to the little cabin open and slipped out into the night, gently replacing the door in its frame without a sound. As he was about to make his way down the path to meet the girls, he turned to take one more glance at Joanne through the screen.
As he did, she shifted slightly, and the rhythm of her snoring broke suddenly into a few short grunts. Dean froze. She shifted again and as she did, she uncrossed her blue-jeaned legs, striking a splayed pose across the mattress. With one leg now dangling off the edge of the bunk, her leather sandal seemed to be poised to drop from its precarious perch at the end of her left big toe.
Dean thought about going back and adjusting the sandal, or perhaps even taking it off completely but her the risk of waking her would be too great. Quietly as he could, he darted down the path towards the fire circle. Not far down the path, he broke into a run. Mere seconds after Dean left the doorway, Joanne gasped, jolting upright, grabbing for air after a period of apnea, her sandal clattering to the floor. Fully awake now she glanced at the door. Through the corner of a blurry eye, the beam of Dean’s flashlight bounced irratically from the spruce trunks as he made his getaway. She sprung from the bunk to the door, confused but wary. “Hellooooo, who’s there?” The woods were silent, and dark.
Jenny and Patty had made their way to the abandoned fire circle, safe in the knowledge that Dean would soon arrive. Passing time, they started to talk as they often did at the end of the day in their bunks, trading stories from their past, comparing notes in the darkness.
Patty went on about the abuse she’s experienced at the hands of her father and uncle, though she didn’t discuss it in the way one might think of as abuse. Rather, the tone of her discourse was “matter of fact”, almost bragging about it as if it represented some sort of conquest.
“I used to catch dad watching me undress at night” Patty related. I’d get my pajamas on and he’d find some excuse to come to tuck me in. I knew he was watching, so sometimes I’d take extra time making sure he got a good look.”
Patty caught a glimpse of Jenny’s face in the beam of her flashlight. She could see the wide-eyed admiration she got from Jenny as she spun her tale. This only encouraged her to fill in the “details”. Even though exaggeration wasn’t really necessary, Patty couldn’t resist. This was delightful to Patty since it served to both embarrass and excite her friend even further. She went on to say that she had discovered she could manipulate her father and get whatever she wanted, eventually extending that influence to her uncle.
Clearly, Patty felt she was in control of all of this, despite the fact she was only about 10 years old when it all began.
Jenny’s experiences were similar in some ways but her reaction to them was totally passive. Her way of dealing with them was to close her eyes and imagine herself detached, pretending they weren’t actually happening to her. For this reason, the details were mercifully blocked from conscious memory but the unspeakable damage harbored itself in other quarters.
Patty was about to go on with her story when the sound of Dean’s footfalls and the wagging beam of his flashlight entered the clearing.
As he did, she shifted slightly, and the rhythm of her snoring broke suddenly into a few short grunts. Dean froze. She shifted again and as she did, she uncrossed her blue-jeaned legs, striking a splayed pose across the mattress. With one leg now dangling off the edge of the bunk, her leather sandal seemed to be poised to drop from its precarious perch at the end of her left big toe.
Dean thought about going back and adjusting the sandal, or perhaps even taking it off completely but her the risk of waking her would be too great. Quietly as he could, he darted down the path towards the fire circle. Not far down the path, he broke into a run. Mere seconds after Dean left the doorway, Joanne gasped, jolting upright, grabbing for air after a period of apnea, her sandal clattering to the floor. Fully awake now she glanced at the door. Through the corner of a blurry eye, the beam of Dean’s flashlight bounced irratically from the spruce trunks as he made his getaway. She sprung from the bunk to the door, confused but wary. “Hellooooo, who’s there?” The woods were silent, and dark.
Jenny and Patty had made their way to the abandoned fire circle, safe in the knowledge that Dean would soon arrive. Passing time, they started to talk as they often did at the end of the day in their bunks, trading stories from their past, comparing notes in the darkness.
Patty went on about the abuse she’s experienced at the hands of her father and uncle, though she didn’t discuss it in the way one might think of as abuse. Rather, the tone of her discourse was “matter of fact”, almost bragging about it as if it represented some sort of conquest.
“I used to catch dad watching me undress at night” Patty related. I’d get my pajamas on and he’d find some excuse to come to tuck me in. I knew he was watching, so sometimes I’d take extra time making sure he got a good look.”
Patty caught a glimpse of Jenny’s face in the beam of her flashlight. She could see the wide-eyed admiration she got from Jenny as she spun her tale. This only encouraged her to fill in the “details”. Even though exaggeration wasn’t really necessary, Patty couldn’t resist. This was delightful to Patty since it served to both embarrass and excite her friend even further. She went on to say that she had discovered she could manipulate her father and get whatever she wanted, eventually extending that influence to her uncle.
Clearly, Patty felt she was in control of all of this, despite the fact she was only about 10 years old when it all began.
Jenny’s experiences were similar in some ways but her reaction to them was totally passive. Her way of dealing with them was to close her eyes and imagine herself detached, pretending they weren’t actually happening to her. For this reason, the details were mercifully blocked from conscious memory but the unspeakable damage harbored itself in other quarters.
Patty was about to go on with her story when the sound of Dean’s footfalls and the wagging beam of his flashlight entered the clearing.
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