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by Oliver T Spedding


  My anger also caused me to belittle myself and I would punish myself for things that I did and didn’t do. Although I seldom physically hurt myself I did make myself suffer in other ways for the things that I’d done. This vindictiveness also surfaced when I felt that I had been wronged by others and even the smallest slight would cause me to look for some way to retaliate.

  I had often wondered at the time whether my father’s sexual abuse of me would harm my attitude towards sex at a later date. The experience had been frightening and unemotional and, because of my lack of knowledge of the subject and what was happening to me, I couldn’t imagine that sex could possibly be pleasurable. But as I became more aware of the opposite sex and learnt a little more about the sexual act I found myself getting excited and eager to learn about this mysterious act. And even though I’d vehemently rejected Garth’s proposal that I move into his house with him, the thought of living with a man stimulated and excited my imagination. I knew that, had I been two years older I would very likely have taken up Garth’s proposition.

  I soon found myself looking forward to seeing Garth and even went out of my way to ‘accidentally’ meet him. I knew that he spent most of his time at the Blue Tulip snooker saloon playing snooker and pinball with his three older friends so I occasionally walked past there during my lunch breaks. As the saloon had large windows facing onto the street that were covered with a gold transparent film that allowed those inside to see out into the street but prevented those outside from seeing into the games hall, I knew that sooner or later Garth would see me and hopefully come out to speak to me. The tactic worked well and I regularly met Garth there during my lunch breaks. Each time this happened there would be wolf-whistles, suggestive remarks and raucous laughter from inside the saloon. Eventually Garth took to waiting for me outside the saloon and walking back to Checkers with me after we’d had something to eat and drink at a small eatery nearby.

  The fact that I was now sixteen years old, working in a permanent job, and paying to stay in my parent’s house, didn’t change my father’s attitude towards me in the slightest. He continued to treat me with contempt and demanded that I continue to obey all his rules, many of which were obviously vindictive.

  “The fact is that you’re only sixteen years old.” he told me “And that means that you’re still a minor and I’m responsible for your well-being. Once you’re eighteen you’ll be classified as an adult and then you can do whatever you like. Hopefully you’ll leave my house and I’ll never see you again. Until then, you’ll do as I say!”

  My hatred for my father festered within me and no matter how hard I tried, I could not get rid of it. I couldn’t find it in me to forgive him for the things that he’d done to me in the past. I was still very scared of him. His quick unreasonable temper and his tendency towards violence as a solution kept me on tenterhooks whenever I was in his presence. It was obvious that he was constantly looking for fault with me and took every opportunity to be vindictive towards me. I could only imagine that this was because he no longer was able to sexually abuse me. There were many times when I caught him looking furtively at my body, and even when he saw that I had noticed, he didn’t have the decency to look away. The lust in his eyes was patently obvious.

  One day, while Garth and I were having lunch at a small corner café near the snooker saloon, he asked me to go to the movies and a meal with him on the coming Friday evening.

  “We can go to the early show at the movies and then have something to eat at McDonald’s afterwards.” he suggested. “Some of our old school friends will probably be there as well.”

  “Okay.” I said. “But I’ll have to confirm it with my father first. Even though I’m working and paying to stay in his house he still treats me like an infant.”

  Garth shook his head in amazement.

  “You’re sixteen years old and have a full time job.” he said. “Why don’t you just tell him to go to hell?”

  “You know that I can’t do that, Garth.” I said. “I can’t afford to get kicked out of his house and even if he doesn’t kick me out he’ll make my life pure hell if I challenge his authority.”

  “Well, my offer still stands.” Garth said. “Come and live with me.”

  “Garth.” I said. “We’ve gone through this before. I can’t just come and live with you. I’m only sixteen and by law my parents are responsible for me. Unless I get their permission to leave home I can’t do anything. And besides, we hardly know each other. We can’t just start living together. That would be ridiculous.”

  “Okay.” Garth said. “But will you come out with me on Friday night?”

  “Thank you, yes.” I said. “I can’t believe that my father could object to me going to the movies with you.”

  That evening my father came home earlier than usual from drinking at his club and, although he was obviously drunk, I took the opportunity to ask his permission to go to the movies with Garth on the coming Friday evening.

  “Who’s Garth Gilmore?” he asked, staring at me with a forkful of food poised halfway to his mouth.

  “He’s a friend that I was at school with.” I replied. “He lives in his aunt’s house in Zinnia Street.”

  “Is he still at school?” my father asked.

  “No.” I said. “He left at the same time as I did.”

  “What’s he doing now?”

  “He inherited his aunt’s house and some money when she died last year.” I said. “He’s planning to start his own business.”

  My father put the forkful of food into his mouth and stared at me as he chewed. I stared back at him.

  “We’re thinking of going to the early show and then having something to eat at McDonald’s.” I said. “So I won’t be home very late and it’s Friday night so I don’t have to go to work the next day.”

  “If you’re going to the early show then it means that you’ll be out of the movie house by eight o’clock.” my father said. “Then you’ll be going to McDonald’s for a hamburger. So, I want you back here by nine o’clock at the latest.”

  “But it’s Friday night.” I said. “We’ll probably meet some of our old school friends at McDonald’s and it would be nice to sit and chat with them. McDonald’s doesn’t serve alcohol or allow alcohol on their premises so it’s not as if we’re going to do anything wrong. Can’t we make it ten o’clock, please?”

  “No!” my father said, glaring at me. “I want you back here by nine o’clock. I don’t trust you or this Garth fellow. And if you’re late there’ll be hell to pay!”

  Garth came to our house at about five thirty. My father had not yet returned from work and my mother was busy in the kitchen. I wanted to introduce Garth to her but she said that she was busy. We left the house and walked to the movie house. Throughout the movie Garth held my hand and when the movie finished we walked along the pavement to McDonald’s holding hands. It was such a lovely sensation to feel recognised and wanted.

  “If there’s nobody at McDonald’s that we know when we get there, let’s buy some hamburgers and chips and take them back to my house.” Garth said. “I’ll make some coffee and we can sit in the kitchen and talk. I’d also like to have a few beers and I can’t do that at McDonald’s.

  “Okay.” I said. “That would be nice. But I must be home by nine o’clock. If I’m late my dad will be furious.”

  There wasn’t anyone that we knew at McDonald’s when we got there so Garth bought hamburgers and chips and we walked to his house. He unlocked the front door and leant in to switch on the passage light. We walked into the house still holding hands.

  “Let’s eat in the kitchen.” Garth said. “It’s where my aunt and I always had our meals and it’s quite homely.”

  I followed Garth along the passage to the kitchen. He put the hamburgers and chips on the table and began filling the kettle with water.

  “The coffee and the coffee mugs are in the cupboard next to the fridge.” Garth said.

  I set out two mugs on the tabl
e and spooned coffee into them. Garth opened the fridge and took out a can of beer.

  “Would you like one?” he asked.

  “No thanks.” I said. “I’ll have a little of yours.

  Garth found a glass and poured some of the beer into it. As he handed it to me he leant forward slowly and gently kissed me on the mouth. Although I was a little frightened, I felt myself respond. I put my free hand behind his neck and kissed him. I had always wondered what it would be like to kiss and be kissed by a man and the feeling of excitement that coursed through my whole body was exquisite. I pulled back and placed my glass on the kitchen shelf. I put both my arms around Garth’s neck, closed my eyes, and kissed him hungrily. I felt his arms go around my waist and he pulled me close to him. I could feel his hardness. Our mouths opened slowly and our tongues touched. Garth leant back and looked down at me. My pulse was racing.

  “Let’s go to the bedroom.” Garth said, his voice husky. “We can have our food later.”

  I nodded, too overawed with excitement to say anything.

  I had never in my wildest thoughts imagined that making love to someone of my own free will could be so fulfilling. And that the person with me had the same feelings towards me made it even more wonderful. When my father had molested me I had been able to switch myself and my emotions off to what was being done to me, but with Garth, his touch was something that filled me with love. I felt myself wanting to live every moment of our bonding. His gentleness was exquisite and our urgency grew and grew until it exploded in an avalanche of passion. We both subsided, exhausted.

  We lay in the darkness, Garth’s fingertips gently sliding over my body. The feeling of wholeness was overwhelming. Gradually our breathing returned to normal.

  “Are you disappointed that I’m not a virgin?” I whispered.

  “No.” Garth replied. “I’m not a virgin either. But, ever since I first saw you I’ve had this strange feeling of camaraderie towards you. I’ve never been able to actually define it but it’s as if we have something in common. Would I be wrong if I guessed that whatever sexual experience you’ve had, it wasn’t consensual?”

  I lay in the darkness, dumbstruck by what Garth had just said.

  “That’s exactly what I’ve been feeling towards you, ever since I first saw you.” I whispered. “Were you also abused as a child?”

  “Yes.” Garth said quietly. “By my father.”

  I felt an incredible closeness to Garth fill my body. Were abused people really able to recognise each other? From what Garth had just said and my own attraction to him, I knew that this was true. The wounded recognise the wounded.

  Suddenly I sat up.

  “What’s the time?” I asked.

  Garth switched on the bedside lamp and looked at his watch.

  “It’s quarter to nine.” he said.

  “Oh, my God!” I said. “I’ve got to be home by nine!”

  Garth rolled off the bed and stood up. I stood next to him and began picking up my clothes from the floor. We dressed quickly.

  “We won’t have time to eat now.” I said. “Perhaps we can have the food tomorrow for lunch.”

  “Okay.” Garth said. “Let’s go!”

  We hurried out of the house and walked quickly along the pavement towards my parent’s house. Fortunately it was less than two blocks away.

  “Relax.” Garth said as we approached the house. “You’re going to be home in time. It’s two minutes to nine.”

  We walked up the short pathway from the front gate to the veranda of the house. I could see my father peeping through a tiny gap in the lounge curtains. At the door I turned and kissed Garth gently. “Thank you, Garth.” I said quietly. “You’ve made me so happy. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Cindy.” Garth replied.

  I turned and opened the door. I hurried into the house. My father stood in the lounge glaring at me.

  “You cut it very fine, you little bitch.” he said, tapping his watch. “It’s a pity. I was hoping that you would be late so that I could give you a good thrashing.”

  ***

  “Your Honour.” my attorney, James Foster said as I stopped to take a sip of water. “I would like to interrupt my client’s testimony at this stage. As I said earlier, Cindy Bedford’s and Garth Gilmore’s testimony are closely linked and my learned colleague and I would like to keep their testimonies parallel. We would therefore like to ask Miss Bedford to stand down from the witness stand and give Garth Gilmore time to tell more of his story.

  Judge Warren Bester nodded.

  CHAPTER 6

  I stepped onto the witness stand and sat down. Paul Greave stood up from the defence table and walked around to face me.

  “Garth.” he said. “I want you to tell the court what happened after you received your inheritance and began your relationship with Cindy Bedford.

  ***

  The Child Welfare Department’s representative, Misses Phillips, ‘phoned me and made an appointment to meet with me to discuss my inheritance. She arrived at the house the following day and we sat in the lounge.

  “As you’re still under the age of eighteen you aren’t allowed to conduct any transactions regarding the inheritance.” Misses Phillips said. “So the Department will be acting on your behalf.”

  Misses Phillips handed me a letter on a Child Welfare Department letterhead advising me that the Juvenile Court had appointed the Department of Child Welfare as my legal guardian and that they would have Power of Attorney to administer my inheritance from my aunt until I reached the age of eighteen.

  “The Department feels that you are old enough and mature enough to have a credit card but we’re going to put a daily limit on it of one hundred and fifty Rand.” Misses Phillips said. “This will eliminate the need for us to be giving you cash for your daily living expenses. At the end of each month the outstanding balance on your credit account will automatically be paid from your sixty thousand Rand investment account. Do you understand?”

  I nodded.

  “Later, if you decide to start your own business we will arrange for any finance that you need to come out of the investment account.” Misses Phillips said. “So, if at any stage you need more than the daily one hundred and fifty Rand you can discuss it with me. Okay?”

  “Yes.” I said. “But why only a hundred and fifty Rand a day?”

  “A hundred and fifty Rand a day equates to four thousand five hundred Rand a month.” Misses Phillips explained. “Remember that you don’t have to pay rent or for the domestic who cleans the house and does your washing and ironing. Nor do you have to pay for water and electricity and rates and taxes. All these expenses will be paid from the investment account. A hundred and fifty Rand a day for food and other personal things will be quite ample. But I still want to see your monthly credit card statement to see that you’re not wasting the money.”

  After Misses Phillips had left I began to think about the sixty thousand Rand in the investment account. If I could get my hands on that I could live like a king! I had to find a way to access the account.

  My snooker-playing friends, Ian, Bruce and Vic were highly impressed when I told them about my inheritance. Although I didn’t tell them the exact amount of money that I’d received I made it very clear that it was quite considerable. Shortly after this I noticed that their snooker skills improved dramatically and the stakes that we played for increased tenfold. They were careful not to overdo our gambling and although I began to lose money to them consistently, I failed to see that they were actually exploiting me. Whenever we played in pairs, my partner’s snooker deteriorated and inevitably we lost to the other two. All three of them commiserated with me whenever I lost and assured me that my luck would soon change and I would win all my money back. I was just too naïve to see that they were manipulating the games and taking my money surreptitiously.

  My friends also began borrowing money from me, promising to pay me back with interest, but whenever I asked about the loans they had some or
other excuse as to why they couldn’t pay me back. They also constantly reminded me that when I’d been at school they had paid my share of the money needed to rent the snooker tables and play pinball. Then one Monday morning they told me that they were planning to go to the Gold Reef Casino on the following Friday night and asked whether I’d like to go with them.

  “You’ll have a great time.” Bruce told me. “There are plenty of beautiful girls, the food’s out of this world and, if you’re playing roulette, the drinks are free. You also don’t have to take a lot of cash with you. They are very happy to give you cash from your credit card if you need it. But playing roulette is the easiest way to win and none of us has ever lost any money at the tables. It’s the machines that are stacked against the visitors. You won’t believe how much money people make playing roulette!”

  “How long will you be there?” I asked. “Maybe I’ll take my girlfriend with me.”

  “No.” Ian said. “No girls. They’re too much of a distraction, and they have no idea of how to gamble. They’re always losing money because most of them play the machines and that’s where you can lose all your money. We usually get there at about nine in the evening and seldom get back before the sun’s up the next day. The secret to successful gambling is never to give up. If you’re losing, you have to just hang in there; your luck will change. It always does. I remember one guy who was down a thousand bucks and then his luck suddenly changed and he eventually walked away from the roulette table with forty grand!”

  “Forty grand!” I exclaimed. “Wow! That’s a lot of money!”

  “It’s actually chicken feed.” Vic said. “There are guys that win hundreds of thousands of Rand regularly. It’s almost as if the casino’s giving away money!”

 

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