Of course it was easier for me with horses. That was my calm place. When I was at the stables with Billy, Robbie, or Evelyn, I’d become completely serene and confident. The challenging moments were when I needed to talk to Liora or Tomer, or with one of the boys volunteering there. Rotem and I spoke a lot about my ability to come out of my shell and talk. It took a lot of energy out of me, but I realized that I had to do it. After a few times at the ranch, I realized that I wanted to move ahead and become a formal employee, not just a volunteer, but I had to be able to speak for that to actually happen.
My volunteering hours were 4 - 7 p.m., the ranch’s busiest times. Little children, teenagers, and parents wandered around the ranch, and there were at least five instructors in the riding area at any given time. We needed to stay focused and organized because the schedule was packed, and there was a lot to fit in. I liked showing up ahead of time. Sometimes I’d arrive at 3 p.m. , when everything was still calm and quiet. That way I’d get in more time with Billy and Robbie, the horses I was most attached to. I liked staying there until the gates closed for the night, at around 8 p.m. That was a magical sort of hour, when the horses would come out to the enclosure, or go into the clean stables after having eaten their dinners, each in its own spot for the night. There was a mixture of tranquility and tiredness. Everyone wanted their quiet-time.
I learned to have my afternoon snack right before my shift there would begin. I’d find a quiet corner, usually next to Billy, at the end of the stables. Two slices of bread with a spoonful of tahini and a spoonful of honey. I’d then eat my apple at 7:00. I’d make sure to leave some of the flesh of the apple core and give it to Billy for a treat. It always made him so happy.
Hand, Fur, Hand
I felt something grab my right leg, then my left one. I looked down and saw two little hands holding my pants. “I wanna help you,” said the little girl, maybe five years old. She looked familiar, and it took me a couple of minutes to realize where I’d seen her. I eventually recognized the red spot on her neck. It was Orri, who’d arrived for her 5:00 ride with Evelyn, a beautiful little golden horse. I’d heard that Evelyn had been flown here from abroad especially for therapeutic horseback riding. Orri had a major limp, and she’d usually sit on the horse together with her instructor. A lot of employees and volunteers took part in Orri’s sessions. They all loved her dearly, and they affectionately nicknamed her “Berry.”
“I wanna brush this horse. What’s his name?” Her childish impatience interrupted my thoughts, forcing me to come out of my shell and cope with my embarrassment.
“His name is Billy.”
“Let me brush him,” she said confidently.
I was confused. I wasn’t sure if I was even allowed to take her into the stables, and anyway, where were her parents, and how did she just latch onto me all of a sudden? My heart started to pound, and the whole situation stressed me out. Get it together, Dani. It’s just a five-year-old girl. Just like a dog − you always say that dogs are like little kids, so imagine that this is Miko, and that he needs help . . . I tried to convince myself, repeating that mantra a few times, hoping that it would make me unfreeze.
“Come on! I got bored so I ran away from Mom. Let me help you,” her sweet voice returned, only this time I could already see Miko’s eyes peering at me through hers.
“All right. You can’t go into the stables, but you can look at what I do, and you can hand me the brushes and the equipment.”
“Yay! Yay!”
“But first, let’s go find your mom so she won’t worry,” I heard myself saying in an assured, responsible tone.
“Awww,” she sulked and transferred her weight from the wall she was leaning on over to my hand, and I supported her as we walked. My heart first shrunk with sadness, then expanded with compassion. I could feel it opening up to her. Through the long hall of the stables, I could see a frightened mother talking to Ronnie, the volunteers’ coordinator, and to Aviv, who was studying social work. The three of them turned their heads towards us, and a look of relief washed over all of them.
“Berry!” Her mom ran over and tried to hug her, but Orri kept a tight grip on my hand and pushed her mother aside.
“I wanna go with this lady and help her with Billy the horse. Please, Mommy?”
The baffled mother looked at Ronnie, who then looked at me. Suddenly all eyes were on me. My body heat started rising, and I felt helpless against all of this sudden importance. I quickly gave an embarrassed smile of agreement, hoping no one had caught on to my great distress, and pulled Orri away from there as fast I could. I just wanted us to get out of there already. Orri was glad and started dancing, in her own limping manner.
“But only for 10 minutes, until your session begins,” her mother called out after us.
“What’s your name?” the little voice asked.
“Dani,” I smiled.
“That can’t be. That’s a boy’s name.”
“That’s right, but it’s also my name.”
“But you’re not a boy.”
“Maybe my parents got a little confused,” I smiled again. I was totally falling for that kid.
“What are your parents’ names? Maybe you can come to my riding session? Yeah, I’ll ask Aviv for you to lead Evelyn. Evelyn is my horse. I love her more than all the other horses. You wanna?”
“What?” I momentarily forgot what she’d asked.
“You wanna hold Evelyn during my session?”
“Yeah, I’d love to, but I’m not sure that’s possible. They’ve already assigned the helpers. Maybe another day.” I really did want to. More than anything else, I wanted to be in the riding area and work with the horses and the kids.
“I’ll ask Aviv,” she said, “because you’re the cutest and I want you to be there.”
I felt jealous of the determination of this little girl, who turned out to be seven years old, and who apparently also suffered from growth issues. A big mind encased in a tiny body.
Not even a minute had gone by and Orri’s mother was already calling her from the other end of the stables − parents weren’t allowed into the stable area. I escorted Orri to the horse-mounting section, where there was a special facility for mounting disabled people. Orri needed to get on the ramp, but she refused to do it until Aviv agreed for me to take part in the session. I was so embarrassed that I wanted the earth to swallow me whole, but something about that child’s sweetness had softened me, making me allow the situation to lead me along. Just like when Miko had started messing around at the dog park one time, and I realized that I simply needed to let him run wild.
I couldn’t lead Evelyn because I wasn’t experienced enough, and it was a matter of safety. But I joined the session as a chaperone. I needed to walk next to Orri and the instructor the entire time that they spent on the horse.
Orri was delighted that she’d gotten her wish, and I was delighted about marching around the riding area for the first time since my arrival at the ranch. I felt important, and I felt that I’d managed to be there for Orri, that I hadn’t just frozen in my spot.
The following morning, I needed to be weighed by Mikki, the dietician. It was the time I hated most during the week. I’d gained nearly 2 pounds. I was proud of myself for the accomplishment, but then feelings of self-hatred and guilt immediately snuck in, as usual. And then I remembered the previous day. Orri’s sweet eyes, her captivating, squeaky little voice, her hands grabbing onto my legs. Why did she choose me, of all people? And I helped her find her mom, and even helped during her session. A sense of purpose gushed through me, slightly moving the guilt and self-hatred aside. I’m alive, I thought to myself in utter astonishment. I’m really alive.
Registered Mail II
A week had passed. Another notice of registered mail had been taped to my door. Another clerk handed me a white envelope. “Regarding: Dismissal of Criminal Accusation.”
/> When I got back to my clinic, my cell phone started ringing, an unknown number appearing on the screen. It was a woman named Re’ut from the Department of Field Studies at the School of Social Work at Tel Aviv University. She asked to meet me about an urgent matter. “This week, if possible, please,” she said.
I called Dani. “Would you like to tell me what’s going on?” I asked her.
“Yeah. Tal lost it, and I did too, actually. Our parents said that we were imagining things, that you’d planted these memories in my head. Tal told them, ‘It’s all very well for Rotem to be a talented therapist, but how could she plant the same memory in me too? Will you two just wake up already?’ Then my mom apologized to us. Can you believe it?”
Dani sounded astonished. She’d gone out of her way to protect me, her sister, and herself. That alone was worth all of the stress of the last few days.
“Are we still meeting at the ranch on Thursday? My parents also want to come. Tal will join, too, and she’ll make a whole lotta noise, knowing her, so I hope that the meeting won’t be too embarrassing. Is that okay with you?” Dani was worried for me, as usual.
A pleasant evening breeze at a ranch sprawling with green pastures, a rare form of generous nature this close to the city. A few animals and a few kids, teenagers and adults. Patients and volunteers. You can’t tell them apart, nor is anyone trying to do so. This wasn’t my first time there that week, but it was the first time that I saw Dani there. She came to meet me with Ronnie, a big grin on her face. She wore dark riding pants, a helmet and a long-sleeved shirt with the ranch’s logo on it. She had a badge with her name and the word “Staff” above it. She seemed as though she’d been there forever.
“Yes, Shiri,” she said with a soft and confident voice to the girl who’d just asked if she could take Evelyn out to the grounds. “I’ll come help you with her in a minute. She’s a little tense today.”
Dani
I went over for a minute to help Shiri with Evelyn, and left Rotem with Ronnie. From afar I could see that Dad, Mom, and Tal had already arrived and joined them, as well as another woman whom I didn’t know. What’s going on? I started to feel my heart pounding and my muscles tensing up.
“So, where’s the surprise you told me about?” I asked Mom. She gestured to Tal, who then took off her backpack, took out a package wrapped in colorful paper and gave it to Dad, who then gave it to me in a ceremonial manner, a smile of pride and relief on his face.
I carefully peeled off the wrapping paper and pulled out a sign on which was written “Secrets of the Heart.”
Mom then said, “The name was decided by me, Dad, and Tal, and the family therapy through animals was planned by Ronnie, Rotem, and Re’ut from the Department of Social Work. We realized that it was time to change departments. We’ve transferred research grants from the family fund for prevention of myocardial infarction. The rest awaits you, the ranch employees, to carry everything out.” She gave me a tight hug. “Now you can do what you love, and what you’re best at,” she whispered in my ear.
Rotem’s eyes glistened. She’d become a real crybaby recently. My eyes did, too, and I’m pretty sure I saw a few tears welling up in Billy and Robbie’s eyes as well.
“We also have a little something for you.” Ronnie smiled and handed me a horseshoe-shaped keychain with a single key on it. “Can we go to the room? They’re waiting for us for the staff meeting.”
My face was already bright red. “All these presents . . . This is too much. You’d think it was my birthday.”
Give Me a Reason to Believe that the Sadness Has an End
The ranch’s therapy room − spacious and filled with soft colors. Long wooden shelves of natural pine all along the cream-colored walls. An array of miniature animals, fairies, people, children, and fences, all organized in tidy rows. Two sand boxes − one dry and the other wet − were on the laminated floor. A few beanbags in pistachio and peach colors spread around. The room was entirely quiet and joyful.
Tomer held a screwdriver in his hand. “Show me where you want the sign,” he said.
Dani took the screwdriver from him and started to hang up the sign, a bright, decisive smile on her face. She took a few steps back. “A little to the left and down a bit,” Aviv told her. “Hand me another screw, please,” Dani said.
“So you even know how to use a screwdriver,” Tomer said, looking impressed. Aviv handed her a few festive glasses and a bottle of wine for her to place on the meeting room’s table. Liora was cutting up vegetables and slicing bread, and Shahar was making coffee for everyone while talking about a recent training session. They looked like a family of smiling dolphins enveloping Dani with affection.
Ronnie tapped on a glass full of sparkling wine. “Attention, everyone! We’re starting. We have a lot of guests today. We’d like to thank our donors, who have joined us here for the handing out of grants through the ‘Secrets of the Heart’ program − Arieh, Dalia, and Tal Freedman, Dani’s family, as well as ours. Their donation will enable affordable treatment for survivors of incest. We also have Rotem here today, a friend of the family’s, and Re’ut, the Head of the Department for Field Studies at Tel Aviv University. The students among you already know her. We will be working closely with Re’ut this year on a pilot program that will be expanded, and she’s going to explain all about it in a minute. But first of all, let’s hear from our donors.”
Ronnie smiled at Tal, who cleared her throat before speaking. “We wanted to thank you . . .” Tal stopped for a moment, then continued in a trembling voice. “Thank you for the unique work that you do here, and for the amazing place you’ve built for everyone . . .” Her eyes filled with tears, and she put her hands together and bowed her head down slightly. Dani smiled at her from across the room, and their Mom put her hand on her shoulder.
A Butterfly with Transparent Wings
So everyone was there. Mom, Dad, Tal, Rotem, Ronnie, and everyone in the ranch who had befriended me. I looked at everything as though from the side and felt like I was in a movie. On the one hand, elation, relief, and a sense of having prevailed; on the other, feeling as though none of this is mine. That perhaps it’s not really me here, but rather someone else. And perhaps this really is all mine, and it is me here, but it felt so fragile that I found it hard to grab hold of.
After so many years of hardship and suffering, of crying, self-hatred, and masochism, I was finally where I’d chosen to be, where I wanted to be, with people who appreciated and loved me, and I was even managing to give back and help others. So I was pretty pleased by the whole thing, despite the intense embarrassment gnawing at me from within. I didn’t know whether to cry from excitement or to laugh at the fact that everyone was there, like a kind of school graduation party that I’d never before gotten to experience.
Tal spoke beautifully, as usual, and Ronnie did, too. When she mentioned the word “incest,” I felt myself drifting far away. Wandering to other places, to Billy’s stall in the stables, to Evelyn’s shiny fur, to my Miko’s one blue eye. Anywhere, as long as I didn’t have to hear and recognize the fact that I was one of them − a survivor, as Ronnie put it. I hated that term, but I loved the idea that out of disaster and sickness there grew such a clean and healthy place: the horses in my life as well as this lovely project.
Re’ut continued talking, and my eyes shifted to the window. I could see the blind girl who comes for weekly riding sessions, and she always makes me think about how it must feel to be near such a powerful animal and not be able to see it. I guess the other senses become a lot sharper and stronger. I watched her from afar, and I could feel the serenity that this horse was bestowing upon her. She leaned over to stroke it, and she smiled tranquilly, as did I.
“Dani? Would you like to say something?” Ronnie suddenly appeared in my bubble of thoughts.
I was embarrassed, but it was important for me to thank them. So I gathered up all of the confidence I
had within me. “Just a huge thank-you to all of you, to everyone who’s enabled this whole thing to happen.”
Rotem
Ronnie gave the stage to Re’ut. “A lot of cases of incest remain unreported for fear of breaking up the family, because there’s no rehabilitation for the offending side either. We will provide a comprehensive healing treatment in accordance with the law, and help people grow out of their post-trauma . . .” She kept talking, but I could no longer hear her.
Dani was walking around among her family members, almost gliding, and this time not because she was about to faint, but rather as though she finally had wind beneath her wings. I thought to myself that perhaps this is what justice looks like − everything’s all right, and everything is in its own place. What’s clear is that this is what happiness smells like. The scent of coffee, bread and horse stables.
I saw her becoming part of a group of people who have good intentions and do good deeds. And they, too, have a room of their own from which to emerge to the great pastures outdoors.
Acknowledgments
“A Room of Their Own” was born in a time of crisis. A time when the pains of the past took painful hold of me. We wrote the book together during our therapy sessions, and it helped us to take a step back and look at things from a new perspective.
We found ourselves writing each in our own homes for many hours until Dani and Rotem were born, two characters whose special bond helped them both to heal and grow.
Slowly, the book began to form, and we realized that we had a story that begged to be told.
Many women have accompanied us on this journey:
Ronit Ohana helped us in weaving the beginning of Dani and Rotem’s bond and creating the base for both their joint story and their separate ones.
A Room of Their Own Page 20
