Never Turn Back

by Lorna Lee

  Jeannine looked at her mother with wide, questioning eyes.

  “It’s okay. You’re safe. I promise.” Joe’s voice was soft, gentle.

  Meri nodded in consent. Then she noticed the dirt floors. “Joe! No floor?” Meri became a screech owl.

  “Hold yer horses, Meri. I said it ain’t much.” Joe turned away from Jeannine and grabbed Meri by the shoulders.

  “House have floor. This…ah…how you say? Jeannine? La grange?”

  Jeannine thought for a moment and did her best to translate. “House of animals?”

  “Oui!” Meri nodded.

  Joe dropped his hold on Meri and stepped back. “Like a barn? Now that ain’t nice. We make do. You will, too, till I find us somethin’ better.”

  “Better? In New York City?”

  Joe scratched his head. “Forgit New York City, Meri. That ain’t gonna happen. Never was. You planted that silly notion in yer pertty head, not me. I’m gonna do right by you. I promise.”

  “Promise. Promise.” Meri said the words like curses.

  Pa finally spoke. “Just like yer Ma, Joe. Hope she’s a good lay fer all the trouble she’s gonna bring ya. Fuckin’ women.”

  §

  For the first week, Meri and Jeannine cried nearly around the clock. At first, Joe tried to soothe them and be the understanding, supporting husband and step-father.

  “I know gettin’ used to a new life in a new country ain’t easy. Try to look on the bright side. Yer’re in America. Ain’t that whatcha wanted?”

  Meri flatly rejected his efforts and refused to speak to him in any language. She sequestered herself in their bedroom, only emerging to cook meals and clean—tasks she vehemently resented.

  “How am I supposed to dust a house with a floor made of dirt?” She fumed in French. “Cooking in this house is unsanitary. No wonder the old man drinks. The alcohol might kill the germs infesting this pigsty.” Only Jeannine understood Meri’s rants.

  Jeannine giggled at her mother’s insults. “They think your French sounds ‘sexy,’ Mamma. What do they mean?”

  Meri laughed for the first time in weeks. “They enjoy hearing me speak French? Good. Why should I learn English? You learn English and teach Joe French if he likes it so much.” From then on, Meri spoke very little English.

  Jeannine, Meri observed, is more forgiving of both Joe and our situation. She talks to Joe all the time and even goes with him on his “errands.” What do they do? I ask and she just says “Oh, this and that.” She’s asserting her independence in this place she knows I hate. At least she’s learning English, something she needs to do before she starts school in a few months.

  One afternoon while Jeannine and Joe were shopping for groceries in town and Meri was scrubbing the inside windows of their filth, Pa grabbed Meri from behind. One hand cinched her waist, the other, her breast. He was usually on the couch and so drunk he could barely stand, so Meri treated Joe’s father like another piece of dirty furniture to avoid. Today was different.

  Meri screamed in surprise rather than pain. What’s happening? Who could be grabbing me? Pa never entered her mind. Her attacker moved in closer. She smelled cheap liquor, man-sweat, and a faint scent of urine. Her gray eyes darkened at the same rate that the color drained from her face. Mon Dieu! It’s Joe’s father! She had lived there over a month and had not seen him take a bath once. Does he ever change his clothes?

  “Stop! Get away!” Meri knew these English words.

  “So, Frenchie, ya can talk.” He slurred his words as his grip around her waist tightened.

  “Joe home soon.” Meri felt sick to her stomach from the smell of his rancid breath and from what he might do to her. He’s so strong I can’t move. I thought he was a sick old man.

  “Naw. We got time fer what I want.” He spun her around.

  Meri screamed. His rheumy eyes, craggy skin, toothless mouth, and thin-haired head horrified her. He looks so evil. We’re all alone in the middle of a forest. Is he going to kill me? No, that thing he uses for a smile tells me he’s going to do something else. Mon Dieu! Joe, where are you? I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. Her panicked thoughts were interrupted when he forced his acrid, sloppy tongue into her mouth. No matter how much she struggled, his grip held her in place.

  When he pulled his tongue out, she spit in his face. Her eyes were thundery gray.

  Something shifted in his eyes. They became clearer and more venomous. “I’m tellin’ ya, Bitch. We do this now or I wait till Jeannine come home and try a ride on her.”

  Hearing Jeannine’s name come from his vile mouth nearly buckled Meri’s knees.

  “No, please. No Jeannine. Take me.” Meri’s voice shook with the rest of her body.

  He released his grip on her. “Good. Git me a drink and let’s git comfy on my couch.” He swayed a bit as he walked to the couch and lay down waiting for Meri to deliver his drink and herself to him.

  Meri’s gait was unsteady, as well, as if she was walking aboard a ship navigating dangerously high seas. Her first attempt to pour the drink failed. She dropped the empty glass. It hit the side of the cupboard on the way to the dirt floor and broke.

  “I break. I pick up.” If I can stall long enough, maybe Joe and Jeannine will come back.

  “No! Leave it. Clean it up after I do you.”

  “Okay.” Do me? With trembling hands, she poured whiskey into another glass and, careful to avoid the broken glass on the floor, brought it over to him.

  He grabbed it from her and downed it in one gulp. “Ah. Now come to Pa.” He reached his yellow chicken-skin arms over to her.

  Meri knew she had a choice: go through with it and be raped by her husband’s hideous father or run away into the woods and risk Joe protecting him from going after Jeannine.

  She ran.

  §

  Rather than running into the forest, Meri followed the driveway onto the dirt road that lead to a narrow paved road. Left or right? Which way leads to a city? She chose left.

  She ran until her side began to hurt. Every minute or so she looked back to see if Pa had followed her. Since Joe had taken the only working vehicle she knew of, she felt confident Pa had no way of chasing her with anything faster than his drunken legs. Meri walked up and down hills. Everything looks the same. Trees, shrubs. Where are all the Americans? Do any cars use this road? What’s going to happen when Joe and Jeanine return? What will Pa tell them? Where will I go? Will I die out here or will they come looking for me and bring me back? Which would be worse?

  Meri heard a gravely, throaty sound. Joe’s rusty red truck cab appeared over the crest of the hill ahead of her. Meri saw two heads: Joe and Jeannine. She did not know if she felt relief or fear.

  Joe’s truck stopped next to her. Jeannine poked her head out of the already opened window and asked, “Mamma, what are you doing all the way out here? Is something wrong?”

  Before Meri could answer, she heard Joe ask, “Jeannine, ask her if Pa’s okay.”

  The mere mention of Pa made Meri dizzy with anger. She hadn’t been sure what she would say to Joe or Jeannine if they found her. Now she knew. Once again, her eyes revealed her anger; they were the color of the sky before a devastating storm.

  “Jeannine, get out of the truck. The place Joe calls home isn’t safe for us. We’re not going back.”

  Both Jeannine and Joe spoke simultaneously. Jeannine questioned her mother’s instructions and reasons for them. Joe asked Jeannine to decipher what his visibly shell-shocked and angry wife had just said. Three people in the vast, verdant forest created a vortex of chaos.

  After French and English ricocheted around for a few minutes, Meri still remained on the side of the road. Joe stood beside her, while Jeannine refused to get out of the truck. “No. You’ll make me walk into the woods with you, and I’m afraid of what’s in there!”

  Joe tried to touch Meri. She slapped his hand and moved away from him. “Come on, Meri. What’s got you so hoppin’ mad? I ain’t never see
n no one this fired up since I left the army.”

  “I no come on with you. Jeannine and me. We go. New York City.”

  “That there’s crazy talk. How you gonna get to New York City? And whatcha gonna do if you git there? You ain’t got no money. Hell, you don’t even talk good English.”

  “You give money. You take Jeannine and me.”

  “I ain’t got no money. I just got me a job so’s I can afford to buy us our own house. We just have to stay with Pa a few more months. I know you don’t like it there. But it ain’t that bad.”

  Jeannine got out of the truck and took her mother’s hand. “I don’t want to go to New York City, Mamma. Joe showed me where I’ll be going to school. The town isn’t that far away. It’s just over that hill.” She pointed in the direction from which the truck had just come. It has shops and everything. You should come and see it. Not so far away is a bigger city where the train took us. They have lots more shops. Joe can take us there, too. I want to stay here…with Joe. I like him.”

  “I don’t. He tricked me and his father is a pig.” She spit on the ground.

  “Mamma. That’s not nice. He’s old and sick.”

  “He’s not so sick, Jeannine.”

  Joe interrupted. “Jeannine, what you two jabbering about?”

  “Sorry, Joe. I tell Mamma I like this place. I like you and want to stay.”

  Joe smiled at Jeannine. “What’d she say?

  Jeannine shrugged and rolled her eyes. “She makes her mind up to go.

  “She can’t!” Turning to Meri, he repeated, “You can’t up and leave. You’re my wife and I’m puttin’ my foot down. Now get in the truck. I’m takin’ you home.”

  “I put foot down. You home, not my home.” Meri crossed her arms and stood as tall as her 5-foot 3-inch frame would allow.

  “Mamma, Joe promises it’s just until he can find us our own home. Things will be better soon.” Jeannine’s pleading took on a little-girl whining tone.

  “Promises. I don’t trust promises anymore.”

  Joe slapped a mosquito that landed on Jeannine’s bare arm. Dusk approached and so did the annoying insects of the thick forest. “We better at least get in the truck. The bugs’ll eat us alive.”

  Meri noticed the insects buzzing around her and finally acquiesced. She got into the truck. Jeannine sat in the middle. Joe breathed a heavy sigh. Meri’s breaths were shallow and quick. Jeannine put her face in her hands.

  Joe turned the key to start up the truck.

  “No!” Meri shouted. Both Joe and Jeannine jumped.

  Exhausted and now worried about the groceries they had purchased going bad, Joe sighed again. “Meri, I have to get these groceries home. We can talk more about this after the food is put away.”

  “I no go back.” She started to get out of the truck.

  “No. Wait. Stop. Let me drop off the groceries. You stay in the truck. I’ll come back out and we’ll talk. Okay?”

  “Jeannine no go in.”

  “Whatever you want.”

  Meri nodded and they finally made their way back to the Trottier residence.

  Meri began trembling as they headed up the driveway. By the time Joe parked the truck, she looked as if someone invisible was shaking her. Jeannine put her arm around her mother, but nothing would quell Meri’s physical repulsion to being so close to the place and the vile man who nearly raped her. The questions reeling through her mind did not help matters. Should I tell Joe about what his father did to me? If I do, how should I tell him? Is there a good way to tell my husband that his father tried to rape me? I don’t want Jeannine to hear, but where can she go that’s safe while I tell Joe? How can I tell Joe so he’ll understand without Jeannine’s help? Mon Dieu!

  While Joe was inside the shack, Meri spoke with Jeannine. “You must listen to me and not ask questions. We don’t have much time.”

  “Mamma, you’re scaring me.”

  “You should be scared. For reasons I can’t tell you, this place—” Meri shuddered. “This place isn’t safe for us, especially when Joe isn’t here to protect us.”

  “I don’t understand. Do you mean his papa? He’s a sickly old—”

  “Things in this world are never as they seem, Jeannine. Now stop with your questions and listen to me.”

  The wide-eyed girl nodded.

  “When Joe comes out, ask him to take us into this town you spoke of. Is there a church in this town?” Meri whispered even though no one but mother and daughter were in the truck.

  Jeannine shrugged.

  “Ask him. I pray there is. If not, ask him to take us to any church. Then ask him if he knows of any person who can speak both French and English. I need someone who can help us communicate other than you. What I have to say is not for your ears.”

  Jeannine put on her pouting face. “Mamma, I’m fourteen now. That makes me an almost woman. You can tell me anything.”

  “Not this. Never this. Tell Joe we’re never going back into this pigsty again. He can get our clothes and bring them to us. If he won’t, I’ll leave them behind. Once he finds someone who can act as an interpreter, I’ll explain why. Until then, I don’t care if he thinks I’m crazy.” Maybe I am crazy….

  §

  Joe finally came back out to the truck.

  “Sorry it took so long. Pa broke a glass and I had to clean it up. He’s okay. That’s one worry off my mind.”

  Meri sat staring straight ahead, a monument of willfulness.

  Jeannine did her best to communicate to Joe all that her mother had asked of her.

  “What in tarnation is goin’ on with her?”

  Jeannine shrugged. “Drive to church, Joe. Please?”

  “Okay. Pa’s in a wicked bad mood, anyway.”

  Father LaFountaine answered nearly all of Meri’s prayers. He hailed from Quebec, Canada—the border only several miles away—so he spoke French and English. He also provided a safe confessor and counselor.

  While Jeannine waited patiently in the sanctuary, Joe and Meri met with Father LaFountaine in his office. “Are the two of you having some kind of marital difficulty?” he asked in English.

  “I’ll say. She don’t speak English too good. Came from France after the war. That’s where we were married. I think she thought we was goin’ to live in New York City just ʼcause I said I live in New York. She was mad about that from the git-go. Now she’s got a bee in her bonnet over somethin’ she won’t tell me about. All’s I know is she won’t go back home with me. Father, she ain’t let me touch her…in that way…since I brung her home. Now she won’t even look at me.”

  Meri heaved a sigh as she uncrossed and crossed her legs. She twisted the hem of her skirt, a hem that had obviously been twisted many times.

  “I’ll speak with you in a moment, please be patient, Madame Trottier.” Father addressed Meri in French.

  Meri nodded.

  Turning back to Joe he asked, “How long have you been living over here?”

  “’Bout five weeks. And I found her just walkin’ on the road to town earlier today. She ain’t been outta the house once since I brought her home.”

  “Mr. Trottier, war brides often have a difficult time adjusting to a new life in a new country. You must give her time. The language barrier complicates matters. Have you tried to learn French?”

  “I’m not so good with learning stuff like that. I’m better with fixin’ things like pipes and gadgets.”

  “Perhaps even trying to learn a few words would warm her to you. Little things make big differences to women. Buying them flowers always seems to help, too.”

  Joe nodded.

  Father LaFountaine turned his attention to Meri. “Madame Trottier, tell me, why are you so upset.”

  For the next fifteen minutes, Meri talked about her experiences in Paris, her perception that Joe deceived her, and the inhumane living conditions to which he brought her and her daughter.

  Father rubbed his chin as he listened.

  “But the
worst part happened today. His drunken old father tried to rape me.” She told him all of the details, including Pa’s threat to prey on Jeannine.

  “You poor child. No wonder you’re so upset. Am I correct in assuming Joe doesn’t know about what happened today?”

  “Oui. I couldn’t tell him in French, and I don’t know enough English so he would understand why I refuse to go back to that…that…shack with my daughter. Could you tell him?”

  Father’s eyes widened and he sat up straighter in his chair. “Me?”

  “You know the right words to say. I don’t.”

  “I’ve never done this kind of thing before, but I can see why you are asking me. Lord, give me the right words…”

  Father LaFountiane did his best to retell Meri’s encounter with Pa to Joe.

  “What? Now lookie here. My old man barely gits up off his couch. She’s tellin’ you he put the moves on her?” Joe got up from the chair and paced around the room. His shoes squeaked out an angry, annoying rhythm.

  Meri put her hands to her face and began to cry.

  Father stood up, his feet uncomfortably glued to the floor.

  Joe finally spoke to no one or to everyone. “That ole coot. I figured he finally drank hisself sick enough to be harmless. He sure acts that way, what with me or Meri havin’ to serve him whatever he asks for. He’s the same ole dog he always was. And he went after my wife the first time I wasn’t lookin’. Bastard! Oh, pardon my French, Father.” He stood behind Meri and put his hands on her shoulders.

  She tried to squirm away from him, but he held tight while he asked Father LaFountaine, “Could you tell her I’m real sorry about Pa, and I won’t make her go back? I’ll deal with him alone. We gotta figure out where we gonna live till I can afford a place of our own.”

  Father breathed a sigh of relief. “Of course.” He translated. As he spoke, Meri’s tears stopped. He believes me. I never have to go back there again.

  §

  Meri and Jeannine stayed in a spare room in Father’s living quarters for the night. The next day, Joe came back with their few belongings and, together, they searched for an apartment. Jeannine asked why they were moving. She received the same answer from Joe and Meri: “It’s time for our own place.” Meri never asked Joe how he dealt with his father. She was not even sure if he maintained a relationship with him. He never mentioned him to her again—not even when or how he died. Meri could not bring herself to thank him for insulating her from his father—Joe had brought the retched man into her life—but she became kinder toward her husband in small ways that mattered to him: learning to cook his favorite meals, learning more English words, and laughing at his jokes even though she did not understand them.