The Company She Keeps

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The Company She Keeps Page 40

by Georgia Durante


  Toni hugged me, fighting back tears, and followed the young man out the door. I watched as they disappeared into the blackness.

  “I love you, Toni!” I shouted after her into the still night. Silence and the sound of crickets were the only replies.

  I turned to Mr. Cawdry with uncertainty. Had I just led my young to the slaughter? He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and asked me to sit down.

  “What are your concerns, Miss Durante?” he asked softly.

  “Did you see what my daughter looks like?”

  “Yes, I saw a very mature-looking little girl.”

  “That’s right, and she’s going out in the wilderness with that young man—alone!”

  “Let me tell you something, Miss Durante. We have over three hundred applicants per year seeking this position. Do you know how many we hire? Two. We check them out back to their grandmother’s underwear. I can assure you your daughter is safe.”

  “I’m sorry if I can’t share your confidence. I’m just not comfortable with this. Why couldn’t she leave in the morning?”

  “We have our way of doing things here. That’s what makes our success rate so high. There will be many things that will concern you about the way we run this program, but it works. That’s what’s important. We must have full rein with our decisions. Toni needs to stay separated from the rest of the school until she comes back from her twenty-one days with her group, which will be forming eight days from now. What she is doing right now is what we call a solo.”

  “What is the principle behind not giving them food for three weeks? Or, as I see it, in Toni’s case, four weeks?”

  “That’s not altogether true. They have to learn to rely on themselves for survival. When they get hungry enough, they’ll find ways to eat. They can spear a fish or trap a rabbit. But they have nothing with them for preparing a meal—no matches to start a fire, that kind of thing.”

  “How do they cook what they catch?”

  “They have to use flint and rub two sticks together. If they aren’t lucky enough to catch an animal, they end up eating ants, or lizards, or whatever they can find. They have none of the comforts of home. They use leaves for toilet paper. We have them hike uphill ten miles a day. At the end of the day when they are tired and vulnerable, they sit around the campfire and the therapists start pushing their buttons. It’s amazing what they spill out after a grueling day in the woods. They have no sleeping bags, only a tarp to put on the ground.”

  “What if it rains?”

  “Then it rains on them.”

  “What if they get sick, or break a leg?”

  “The therapists are never out of radio contact. We have a rescue team in town with a helicopter for emergencies.”

  “Have you ever needed it?”

  “Yes, on occasion. We’ve had kids physically hurt themselves just to get out, but that’s rare. We’ve had a few cases of hypothermia. We watch very closely for that.”

  With every word he spoke, my head spun faster. “I can see you don’t pull any punches.”

  “No, we don’t. You will get a good taste of it the first time we ask you to return. You will experience what we call the ‘hot seat’ in a group session, and you won’t be treated with kid gloves—I can assure you of that,” he said with a slight smile. “Where are you staying?”

  “I haven’t made any reservations.”

  “There’s a nice little inn in town, about three miles down the road. I could call—”

  “How would you feel about my staying in the dorm with the girls?”

  “Well, it’s—”

  “Mr. Cawdry, I’m really not so sure about all this. I’d like to get a better sense of this place. The only way I’m going to be reassured that I’m doing the right thing is by seeing and hearing from the kids who have already done their time out there in the wilderness.”

  “Well, I don’t see a problem with that, but I can’t guarantee you a good night’s sleep. If you’re ready now, I’ll lead you up to the cabin. Oh, and please, call me Steve. We’re not that formal around here.”

  I followed Steve up the hill to the cluster of cabins. The only light was from the swarm of stars in the endless sky. I couldn’t remember ever seeing such a luminous body of space.

  Steve knocked on the door and three girls yelled out, “Come in.”

  “Hello, girls. This is Georgia Durante. She and her daughter, Toni, arrived here tonight. Toni is out on a solo right now, and Georgia isn’t feeling very comfortable about it. She asked if she could stay here and talk to you all.”

  “Cool,” said one of the girls from the far side of the room.

  “Guess I’ll leave you to chat. Good night, ladies.”

  I watched as Steve disappeared into the night and then I turned to the girls.

  “So, what’s she in for?” asked a hard-looking young lady.

  “What you’re all here for. Drugs,” I answered.

  “Not me! My mom just hates me—can’t deal with me. That’s why I’m here,” one of the girls offered.

  “Oh, Karen, cut the shit,” another girl said abruptly. “I thought you were over that my-mother-hates-me bullcrap. You’re one of the biggest druggies in here! Who you kidding?”

  “This is no place for your daughter. If you really love her, you’ll get her out of here ASAP!” Karen squealed, ignoring her attacker.

  “Come on, Karen, you’re gonna make this lady think this is some kind of a prison or something.”

  “Well . . . isn’t it?”

  “You know damn well this place is straightening up your act. You just admitted that in group yesterday, remember?”

  “Well, it doesn’t do me any good to fight it, does it?” Karen retorted.

  “Don’t mind her, Georgia,” the other girl said. “We’ve all been on her case today. Each of us has our chores to do, and this is Karen’s week to cook for the entire group. There’s thirty-eight of us altogether, counting the boys. She didn’t live up to her responsibility, so none of us ate.”

  “I didn’t feel good,” Karen retaliated.

  “That’s bullshit, Karen. It was my job to cut the wood today. What if I didn’t do it? You wouldn’t be lying around here when the nights get cold feeling nice and toasty, would you?”

  “Yeah, Karen, we shouldn’t have to suffer because you’re so damn lazy!” another girl added. “You’re gonna have to pull your weight around here if you want to have any friends.”

  I thought the girls would never tire of talking. I was exhausted. As I lay on the small, cramped cot, I couldn’t stop wondering if Toni was cold, or if she was frightened. Overwhelmed with it all, I had forgotten to call Dennis.

  I had been asleep only five minutes, or so it felt, when a bell sounded. It was one of those triangle bells they use on farms to call the family for dinner. The girls were all filing out the door, half-awake.

  “What’s going on?” I mumbled, trying to focus.

  “There’s a problem somewhere. We gotta have a group session and work through it,” someone answered flatly in the dark.

  I glanced at my watch. “At four o’clock in the morning?”

  “It doesn’t matter what time it is. We have to deal with it at the time that it happens, and no one gets to go back to sleep until the problem is settled.”

  I quickly put on my jeans and followed the girls out to the main cabin. Everyone sat in a circle and waited to be told what the problem was. No one looked particularly excited about being there.

  Finally a short, good-looking man with gentle eyes and a full beard appeared. He was exactly the kind of guy you would expect to find in the woods. In fact, he was the mountain man I had anticipated when I met Steve, the headmaster.

  “Hi, I’m Little John. You must be Toni’s mother,” he stated pleasantly.

  “Yes, I am. It’s nice to meet you,” I replied, shaking his hand. He introduced me to the boys and then proceeded.

  “Well, let’s get this over with so we can all go back to sleep
. Jeanie was caught sneaking into the boys’ dorm. This is the second time this month.” Little John peered over at the scrawny-looking girl defeatedly. “So what are we going to do about this problem, Jeanie?” he asked compassionately.

  Jeanie just shrugged, looking totally bored.

  Little John turned his focus to a tall, thin youth with surfer blond hair and deep blue eyes. “Robbie, what do you have to say?”

  “Well, shit,” Robbie replied, “what would you do if you were sound asleep and a girl woke you up by stroking your dick? Wouldn’t you go for it?”

  Jeanie’s eyes were wide with insult. “You knew I was coming over. Don’t try to act like Mr. Innocent!” she retorted.

  “Jeanie,” Little John said, “why don’t we talk about this need you have for sex. Where do you think that comes from?”

  “Don’t you have a need for sex, Little John?” she asked.

  “Yes, I do, with someone I love. You don’t care who you’re with. You’re gonna go through the entire community before you leave here.”

  “She already has,” responded another girl sourly.

  I surmised from the girl’s tone that Jeanie had slept with a boy she was sweet on.

  “Fuck you, Sandy!” Jeanie shouted.

  “Jeanie, don’t you think Sandy has a good reason to be angry with you?” another girl inquired with a less accusing voice.

  “Maybe . . .”

  “Maybe shit, you little tramp!” Sandy yelled.

  “Sandy, let’s try to help Jeanie with this problem,” Little John suggested with an even tone. “You all have your own shit to deal with. Let’s consider Jeanie’s problem right now and help her to see why she has the need to continue with this behavior.”

  “Maybe she just likes it—did you ever think of that, Little John?” one of the boys asked innocently.

  “Do you think that’s true, Jeanie? Is it just the sex you love?” Little John asked in a gentle voice.

  “No,” she whispered, picking fuzz balls off her socks.

  “Then what is it, Jeanie?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do,” he pressed.

  “No, I don’t!”

  “Come on, Jeanie, get it out, whatever the hell it is, so we can all go back to bed!” a boy in the group blurted out impatiently.

  “Jeanie, how do you feel about your dad?” Little John asked, expertly knowing which buttons to push.

  Jeanie looked at him with surprise. “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean, Jean—”

  “I know what he means,” interrupted the short, dark-haired girl. “Your father sexually abused you . . . didn’t he?”

  “NO!”

  “Who are you protecting? Just tell the truth, Jeanie. Get it out,” probed Little John.

  “YES! YES! My father abused me!” she screamed, bursting into tears. “It wasn’t my fault!”

  “We know it wasn’t your fault, Jeanie, but you’re blaming yourself every time you sneak into the boys’ dorm. You’re punishing yourself for something you had no control over. It’s the reason you take drugs too. We are all your friends here, Jean. You’re safe.”

  Everyone got up and surrounded Jeanie, taking turns hugging her, even Sandy.

  “Okay, kids, good work. We’ll continue this session tomorrow. Now go and get some sleep,” instructed Little John while holding back a yawn.

  The group dispersed, anxious to get back to bed. I was too exhilarated to sleep. That was great! I was beginning to understand how it worked. After that night I was pretty comfortable with the program. I could have left feeling that everything was going to be all right, but I was fascinated with the whole process and elected to stay for another five days.

  I had my chores. I chopped wood and took my turn at cooking as well. We did plenty of hiking and rock climbing in the following days. I took a few of the girls out on a deserted dirt road and taught them how to perform one-eighties with my rented car. I got to know all the kids and their problems before I left. Each of them admitted that this was a good place for them. I even had my turn on the “hot seat” a few times in the group therapy sessions.

  “When are you going to start dealing with your pain, Georgia?” Little John asked in group.

  “What pain? I’m fine; I’m happy.”

  They all burst into laughter, as though they knew something I didn’t. They did.

  “What do you feel when you think about your three marriages?”

  “Nothing.”

  “That’s the point. You have never dealt with your own pain. How can you teach your daughter how to deal with it, when you don’t have a clue how to do it yourself? Don’t you want to let that little girl come out of the dark and let her have her cry? How long has it been since you cried?” Little John asked.

  “I can’t remember.”

  “Of course you can’t. You can’t remember a lot of things. Don’t you think it’s time?”

  They all took their turns, poking at me until I finally did cry. Then, one by one, they took turns hugging me. I couldn’t believe how good crying felt. It was excellent practice for what was about to come.

  The day before I left, I joined the kids on a trip to the lake. We loaded inner tubes into a beat-up old pickup truck and we all piled in. It reminded me of how I had grown up. My childhood had been filled with adventures like this—a simple life, a good life. I thought of Toni and wished she could be sharing this with me. By now I understood that wherever she was and whatever she was doing, the outcome could only be positive.

  The kids all knew I made my living doing stunts and dared me to jump off a nearby bridge. I had never backed down from a dare when I was a kid, but I wasn’t a kid anymore. The setting took me back to another place in time, and the last thing I acted like was an adult. The child in me came out to play as I climbed the rocks up to the bridge.

  Jesus, it hadn’t looked this high from down there.

  From a height of some sixty feet, I was having second thoughts. Then I felt a faint rumble and soon I heard the train approaching. I looked down at the water, then back at the train. Closer. The train whistle blew. Gotta go. I jumped.

  That day, I gained the respect and the confidence of all those troubled kids. Thank God for the train.

  I had some problems adjusting to city life in L.A. after breathing all that fresh air and experiencing the beauty of the mountains. The warm, starry nights of the Big Sky and sitting around the campfire were etched in my mind. Why does life take us so far from what’s real?

  I answered my own question as soon as I picked up the phone to hustle up work so I could pay for the school. Being married to Richard had caused me to shun big money. It changed people somehow. But I had to have at least enough to buy us freedom.

  Back to the grind.

  “What’s the deal?” Dennis asked when I answered the phone.

  “Dennis! I just got back.”

  “Yes, I know; I’ve been calling every day. How did it go?”

  “I’m sorry, phones just weren’t a commodity out in the woods.”

  I told him everything that had happened. He sounded relieved. We both had been a little skeptical in the beginning.

  “Well, my deal went great, too,” he said with excitement. “I’m going to celebrate tonight. Now I have something else to celebrate as well. It sounds like that place is it for Toni. I sure hope so.”

  “When are you coming home, Dennis?”

  “I’m leaving in the morning. Do we have a date tomorrow night?”

  “We’d better have a date,” I answered.

  “You pick the place. I’ll be at your house at seven. I miss you.”

  “I miss you too, Dennis. See you tomorrow.”

  Dennis called in the morning with a change in plans. He had stayed out a little too late, had drunk a little too much, and had missed his flight. He was taking the next one out, bringing him in later than expected.

  It was a beautiful August day. Darlene and I sat a
round the pool sipping margaritas and soaking up sunshine. She was such a joy to have around—always there to lend an ear when I needed to vent. When the phone rang, neither of us wanted to move from the comfort of our lounge chairs to answer it, but curiosity got to Darlene. She forced herself up and sauntered over to the terrace. After talking a moment, she placed the receiver on the outside patio table and walked back toward the pool.

  “It’s Darrien!” she whispered.

  “Oh, Christ, she’s probably calling to complain about Dennis again. Frankly, I’m getting sick of this.” I marched over to the phone. “Hello, Darrien,” I said impatiently.

  “Who was that who answered the phone?”

  “That was Darlene, my ex-sister-in-law.”

  “Is she still there?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Because I have something to tell you, and I don’t think you should be alone.” Remembering the last time someone had said that sent a chill through me.

  “What’s wrong, Darrien?”

  “Dennis . . . Dennis is . . . He’s dead, Georgia.”

  “What are you talking about, Darrien? I just spoke to him. Why would you say something like that!”

  “Georgia . . . his plane crashed. He’s dead!” she blurted, and burst out crying.

  “NO! You’re lying to me! Darrien, say that’s not true! Please! Oh, my God . . . say it’s not true! Oh, no! No, no, no, no . . .”

  “What’s the matter, Georgia?” Darlene kept asking as she paced in front of me.

  I couldn’t say it; I just could not say the words: He’s dead. All I kept saying was, “NO!” Darlene picked up the receiver. Never having seen me in a state like that before, Dustin got scared and started to cry. After Dar heard the news she immediately called Richard and asked him to come over to pick Dustin up.

  I turned on the television and we watched the horrifying image of the plane burning. Dead bodies were being pulled from the wreckage.

  “Wait . . . someone’s alive . . . that man is alive! Maybe it’s Dennis, Dar.”

  “Georgia, this is not live footage. Darrien said he was positively identified. She spoke to his brother.”

  “Maybe they made a mistake!” I shouted, refusing to give up hope.

  Darlene took me by the shoulders, forcing me look directly at her. “Georgia . . . Dennis is gone, honey.”

 

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