Spilled Milk: Based on a true story

by Randis, K. L

  His eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You know, maybe I don’t like you telling half the school that we have sex all the time. Mainly because we don’t, but also because it’s none of their business. I know about you sneaking off with your guys to smoke weed and drink, so don’t think I’m stupid. I’m your girlfriend, and maybe you should respect-”

  “No, you’re not.”

  I stared at him. “I’m not what?”

  “My girlfriend.”

  He threw his book bag over his shoulder and rushed out the bedroom door.

  “What?” I followed him.

  “Go away.”

  “What? No, I won’t go away.”

  I followed him into the driveway just as a car pulled up and honked. A guy I didn’t recognize stuck his hand out the window and motioned for Paul to get in.

  “Paul, wait.” Panic rose in my chest.

  “Brooke, I’m done. I don’t want to do this anymore.” He turned towards the car.

  “Wait, Paul, don’t.” I reached out and grabbed his elbow. “Can we talk?”

  “No, we can’t. And if you don’t stop following me, I’ll never talk to you again. I need time.”

  “How much time?” I couldn’t control the pitch in my voice.

  “It’s not up to you! Weeks, months, years, whatever it takes. I’m not doing this anymore. Have fun playing mommy, or housewife, whatever it is you do. See ya later.”

  The car sped off and I could hear the music thumping until they drove past where I worked. I stood in the driveway with my hand on the bridge of my nose. Everything happened so fast I wasn’t sure how to feel. As I stood there thinking about the phone call I just made, Paul walking out of my life, Ethan at home alone- It was too much. My body sank to the ground and I wrapped my arms around my knees, trying to figure out what I had done that made God hate me so much.

  Paul ignored every phone call I made over the next few days. He never came to my locker, and when I finally saw him in the hallway I asked him to meet me after third period. “Please,” I said, “I just need to see you for a minute.”

  I couldn’t concentrate on the Spanish vocabulary I was supposed to be writing down in my notebook. I hardly noticed when a student walked in halfway through the period and Mr. Caruzo had to say my name twice before I noticed he was motioning to me. “Brooke, you’re needed in the front office.”

  The front office was narrow and blue and I slumped into a seat as I waited. I checked the clock and as I looked up Adam came walking through the front office doors. My heart skipped. “Adam? What are you doing here?”

  “I don’t know. I was just about to get on the bus for a field trip though. They said they’d only hold it for ten minutes. Don’t wanna miss it.”

  Principal Hemlorn poked his head through one office door. “Adam, Brooke? Can you guys follow me?” Light reflected off his bald head and his smile was warm.

  We followed him a few feet before stopping in front of a door. “I have someone here who wants to talk to you guys. Might take a little time, half hour maybe.” He checked his watch. “Just see the receptionist when you’re done, she’ll give you a pass.”

  “Principal Hemlorn I have a field trip.” Adam pointed toward the door. “Can this wait? I already paid and everything.”

  He licked his lips. “I suppose that’s fine. I’ll let them know you already got on the bus. Brooke, you go ahead in.”

  Them? What is going on…

  Adam turned to catch his bus and the Principal put his hand on my shoulder. “It’s all right, go ahead inside Brooke.”

  The light was dim and my eyes had to adjust but when they did I was staring at two police officers and a lady in a business suit.

  “Mrs. Shafer, this is Brooke Nolan. Her brother already left on a field trip, so you might have to catch up with him later.”

  “Thank you Mr. Hemlorn. Brooke, would you like to take a seat?”

  The door closed behind me. “My name is Elise, sweetheart, I’m from Children and Youth Services. Is it okay if we talk for a few minutes?”

  I stared at the bulky police officers standing in the corner of the room. Their arms crossed in front of their chests and I could hear their uniforms squeak around all the items they had in their belts. “What did I do?”

  “Oh, nothing dear. It’s okay, you’re not in trouble. Don’t mind these guys.” She waved to the officers behind her. “They’re just here as a witness to what you and I talk about, they won’t bother us any. You can call me Elise all right?”

  I took a seat as I noticed the expensive suit Elise had on. She had a pink collared shirt on underneath and she whisked her bangs away from her face. She couldn’t have been older than thirty, but there was something old about her face. Maybe she had been doing this job a long time.

  “I’m from Children and Youth Services, do you know what that is?”

  I shook my head and traced the outlines of her face. She wore a lot of makeup, but I decided she was pretty. She looked concerned.

  “We protect children from bad situations. Sometimes children need someone to stand up for them when they’re being hurt, or something bad happens to them, so that’s my job.”

  She had huge green eyes and I twisted my hands in my lap. Social services sure did respond to anonymous phone calls in a timely manner.

  “I’m here because my office got a few phone calls about your family. About some things that go on in your house.”

  A few phone calls? I only called once.

  “So I was hoping we could talk? I have a few questions I was hoping you could help me out with.”

  I remained silent. My body started to tremble as the reality of what was happening began to set in.

  “Now we don’t know who made these phone calls. But we do know that one came from the middle school and elementary schools about your brother, Thomas right? A teacher there saw some bruises on him and called last week. Then we got another call about there not being food in the house, about the children there being hit and yelled at, and some other things.”

  I knew what she was talking about because I had made that phone call. “So tell me, Brooke, what are your parent’s like. Do any of these things sound true?”

  Elise wanted me to trust her, I knew, but I was terrified. The police officers stared at me, waiting for a response. I knew that calling social services would lead to this, I just didn’t realize it would be so soon.

  “Brooke, I want you to know that anything we talk about here today stays between us. You don’t have to be afraid to tell me anything that goes on in your home. You won’t get in trouble, okay?”

  “We sometimes don’t have food,” I started. My hands twisted around my shirt. “My dad yells, a lot, and he hits my brothers.” Elise picked up her pen and started writing. “We’re all afraid of him. I don’t like him.”

  Elise nodded. “You’re doing great honey, keep going. What kinds of things does he yell about, where does he hit your brothers?”

  “On their backs, their stomachs, sometimes their face. Sometimes he uses a belt. Or he’ll throw things. He yells about everything. When we’re too loud, if we leave a cabinet door open, if we don’t do whatever he wants.”

  Elise put down her pen and looked at me. “What kinds of things does he want Brooke?”

  Her voice was comforting, reassuring. I couldn’t shake the stares from the police officers though, their eyes bore into me. I was on display.

  “Brooke we got a call that your dad was touching you, inappropriately. Do you know what that means?”

  I shook my head. This was all happening so fast.

  “Has your dad ever touched you in your private parts? Has he ever made you do something to him that you didn’t want to do?”

  Tears forced themselves to the surface but I blinked them away. My white flag couldn’t go up that easily. I didn’t even know what would happen if I told right now. Something just seemed off, my gut was battling with my head.
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br />   “Maybe. I mean, I don’t know.” My gaze fell into my lap.

  “Did you ever tell anyone that these things were happening to you?”

  My stomach churned. What did I do? If I tell her what’s happening they’ll take us away for sure, we’ll all be split up. I didn’t have enough time to think about what would happen when social services finally showed up. There was no game plan, no escape. I needed an escape.

  “I told my boyfriend’s mom I had a dream my dad touched me,” I said. Sounded like a safe way to watch her reaction.

  “You had a dream?”

  “Yea.” I shifted my weight.

  “So you never told anyone your father touched you?”

  I paused. “No.” It wasn’t a lie, technically I didn’t.

  “And he never touched you? Never hurt you?”

  “No.” I looked away. Even I knew when my face got too red for anyone to believe I was telling the truth.

  Elise wrapped up the questioning and thanked me before telling me she was going to talk to my brothers at the other school. I nodded and backed up towards the door. The bell rang as I raced down the hallway, my heart nearly bouncing out of my chest.

  When I saw Paul, tears were streaming down my cheeks and I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Brooke, I know us breaking up is hard for you, but-”

  “It’s not that.” I leaned into his ear and told him about what had just happened in the front office. He pulled away, slowly, staring at me. “Is it true?”

  “Paul, I just need you right now.”

  He shifted his weight and looked down the hallway. “I’m sorry, I gotta go.”

  I watched him turn his back on me for the second time and walk away. My body trembled all over as I searched for the nearest EXIT sign and pushed through the double doors, running towards the football field.

  ***

  Two days later Mom walked into my bedroom with an envelope in her hand. It was a letter from Children and Youth, explaining that they had investigated an accusation that Dad had been sexually abusing me and that I, specifically, gave indication they were dreams but that they wanted to come out to the house to talk to my mom and dad.

  My gut had saved my life. Not only did Children and Youth promise me what I told them would be confidential and they lied, but they sent a letter home claiming that I was the only one who would talk to them out of all of my brothers and sister. I became the only target. Mom sat on the bed next to me.

  “Is this true, Brooke? Tell me if this is true. I’ll change the locks tonight and he won’t ever come back.”

  My eyes widened. She believed me?

  “I mean I don’t know how we’re going to survive, I don’t know how we’ll get money to pay our bills or eat, but I’ll change the locks. I will. Is this true?”

  A promise of freedom with an extra heavy side of guilt, coming right up.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know what to say Mom. It’s not true.”

  Mom wiped a tear from her cheek. “Oh, all right, well…” She stood up. “As long as it isn’t true, I guess there isn’t anything for me to worry about, right?” She smiled.

  She showed the letter to Dad, who wanted to talk to Mom and I in his bedroom after he read it. “This is very serious, Brooke.” He waved the letter in my face. “If this were true, we would lose the house, I would lose my job, and you kids would wind up in foster care. Do you want that?”

  “It’s true, he’s right, we would lose everything,” Mom chimed in.

  Mom never asked what would make me say such things. Neither did Dad. They never asked if I had a grudge, or if I watched too much TV or if someone had put me up to it. They didn’t care what the reason was, they just wanted to make sure that I kept telling social services that it wasn’t true. And I did.

  The case was unfounded and closed within two weeks time. Elise asked me for the last time if I wanted to tell her anything and I shook my head, my eyes still focused on my hands. If anything, I was thankful for the break I got. Dad seemed afraid and the investigation was too fresh for him to try anything, so he stayed away from me for over two months.

  I tried to talk to Paul numerous times but he never returned my calls, and chatting online always ended in him calling me pathetic or a long line of names before he would block me or sign off.

  I didn’t understand what I did to make him so angry, and he refused to give me the closure I needed. We both got our licenses and with the money I had saved up from working I got myself a used car, asking my mom to co-sign. Dad was furious Mom co-signed for me but since I had the money Mom didn’t see the issue.

  Then I got a phone call from my Aunt Jean asking me to come visit them on Long Island. She said it was important, and she wanted me to sneak away without telling anyone.

  “Tell your mom you’re staying at a friend’s house and come visit. I don’t like you lying, but it’s really important I see you.” It was the first time I drove outside of Kunkletown and I was a nervous wreck driving over the bridges to get to Long Island.

  I pulled up in front of Aunt Jean’s house and wondered what she had to tell me that was so important. The front door opened before I could even knock.

  Chapter Sixteen

  My cousins met me at the door and I was hugged a million times before I even took off my coat. Aunt Jean handed me a cup of hot cocoa and Uncle Bruce took me into his arms for a bear hug.

  “Tell me about your license and school. Jr Prom is coming up soon, right? Do you have a dress? I can’t believe you’re sixteen already, my goodness.” Aunt Jean rattled on as Uncle Bruce picked up his newspaper.

  After I tucked my coat into the hallway closet I pulled up a chair next to Uncle Bruce. It felt like home to be around family. I missed living on Long Island. New York had so much character and culture, it was impossible to ever be bored and a mouth watering slice of pizza was always available on any corner.

  “Hey guys, why don’t you go put on that movie we rented for you?” Aunt Jean coaxed my cousins away.

  “What movie? I’ll watch with them.” I picked up my cup of cocoa.

  “Actually Brooke, we’d like to talk to you.” Uncle Bruce folded his paper. He patted the seat to invite me to sit back down. “Take a seat.”

  I settled in-between them at their kitchen table. Their faces looked drawn and I could foresee bad news coming my way. The tension was uncomfortable.

  “Brooke, your mom called us a few weeks ago and told us about the letter she got in the mail. You know the one?” Uncle Bruce said.

  I shook my head and took a long sip of cocoa. I had no idea where this was about to go.

  “Right. Well, we uh, your Aunt and I, we talked about it some. And we need to let you know that, sometimes…” He held up his hands like he was holding an imaginary basketball. “Sometimes, people need to know about the bubble that surrounds a family. This bubble protects everyone, it keeps everyone safe, and it’s like a safety zone.” Aunt Jean nodded in agreement as Uncle Bruce continued. “Our family has a very strong bubble.” He reached out for Aunt Jean’s hand.

  “We want you to know that you are a part of our family, and we know you are a very smart, very strong and beautiful young woman.” His face started to turn several shades of crimson. “We are worried about you, and we want you to know that the bubble we have in our family will protect you too.” He pointed to me. “Anything you are going through or anything you say. We will protect you, Aunt Jean and I.” Uncle Bruce turned his face away.

  “Brooke, sweetheart,” Aunt Jean said, stepping in. “We need you to know that this is a safe place. Uncle Bruce and I can protect you, your mom, and your siblings. All of you. In fact, we talked about it, and if we needed to we would move you and your mom back here to stay with us. We already set up the rooms. There is room for everyone.”

  Uncle Bruce nodded. “We’ll take you in, all of you. So you can stay together, if that’s what worries you. But Aunt Jean and I are worried about you. And this bubble…” he held up the imag
inary basketball again, “Baby girl no one can hurt you anymore. Not while I got this thing wrapped around you.”

  Aunt Jean’s knuckles turned red as she squeezed into Uncle Bruce’s hand. “Brooke honey, is anything going on in your house with your dad? Has he hurt you?”

  I lowered my head, my hand covering my eyes. They had just told me exactly what I needed to hear. They were going to keep me safe, all of us. It was time to tell.

  “Yea, he’s touched me. And-” I started.

  Aunt Jean let out a sob as she reached across the table. “Oh, my baby, oh Brooke I’m so sorry.”

  Covering my face in shame, I couldn’t bring myself to speak again. Uncle Bruce stood up from the table and slammed his fist against the wall in the kitchen, his face a bright burgundy with tears sliding down both cheeks.

  “I need to talk to Gina,” I said finally.

  Aunt Jean got up from the table. “I’ll call her. She’ll be expecting my call, I told her you were coming here to talk. She’ll know what to do from here.”

  “You did? How did you-”

  Suddenly the second phone call that Elise had told me about to social services was clear. It wasn’t a teacher. It was Gina. While she never straight out asked me, she poked and prodded like she knew all along. Maybe she knew it would take sitting down with family, having them tell me they would catch the pieces as they fell, that would finally get me to talk. I closed my eyes in silent thanks.

  As I sat at the table with my hands over my eyes I felt a hand over mine. Uncle Bruce looked at me, his eyes hurting for me. “I got you now, okay? No one’s gonna hurt you anymore.” He patted my hand, and I believed him.

  Aunt Jean told me that I should eat dinner with them and then head back to Pennsylvania and go straight to Gina’s house. Gina wanted to sit down with me before heading over to the police station since they were going to have a lot of questions. Aunt Jean and Uncle Bruce would meet me there in the morning and we would all go to the police station together.

  Instead of eating, I asked to take a shower. I scrubbed and washed every inch of my body three times, and when I thought I was finished, I washed again. After a few spoonfuls of soup I asked to take a shower one more time before I left. My body wouldn’t stop shaking.