Remember, You Love Me: Little Girl Lost

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Remember, You Love Me: Little Girl Lost Page 10

by Mairsile Leabhair


  “Baby, I hear you and I promise. I just want you to know you can tell me anything.”

  Vicky began to tell Aidan what she went through after the molestation. How she was afraid to leave the house for fear Harold might be waiting for her. She was so afraid, that she wouldn’t even look out the windows for fear he might be looking in. At night she would wake screaming from terrible nightmares so severe that she fought as hard as she could to stay awake. It didn’t take long before she started losing weight, was very lethargic and cried all the time, so much so, that her parents finally were at their wits end, and took her to see a doctor.

  Alice explained to the doctor about Vicky’s best friend running away, and the doctor diagnosed it as the hormonal change, which he said was normal for her age, coupled with the sudden departure of her best friend. He gave Alice some sedatives to help Vicky sleep at night, but Vicky refused to take them for fear of her nightmares. There was a time or two that her mother resorted to hiding the drug in Vicky’s food. And although she was very groggy, she was still alert enough to know that her father was carrying her, and that he was putting her to bed. She knew that wasn’t right, her father hadn’t had to carry her to bed since she was ten years old, so Vicky figured out it had to be something in the food. After that she refused to eat, until her mother promised she wouldn’t drug her again.

  “Anyway, I spent the entire summer locked up in my room until I heard my parents talking one night. The police had stopped by asking about Harold. My father knew one of the officers’, and I overheard them say that Harold defaulted on the house, back taxes I think it was, and there was a warrant out for his arrest. But then the police said they thought he had died because his name had been added to the tombstone at the cemetery, and it looked like someone had buried him. I remember my mother saying good riddance to bad rubbish, and that’s when I knew it was safe to go outside again.”

  “Oh baby, I’m so sorry—”

  “Aidan?”

  “No, hear me out. I’m sorry you had to suffer like that. I’m sorry he did that to you,” Aidan took Vicky’s hand in hers, and finished, “And I’m sorry I didn’t kill the bastard when I had the chance.” She brought her hand to her lips, and kissed it tenderly. Then a horrible thought hit Aidan like a baseball to the stomach, “Vicky, were you, uh…”

  “Don’t worry, Aidan, I wasn’t pregnant.”

  Aidan exhaled audibly. The consequences of having her lover giving birth to her father’s child, was just too much for the brain to comprehend at the moment.

  ***

  “I am not being stubborn, Leonard, I just don’t think it’s right and I am not going to their wedding, if they actually have one.” Alice was adamant, she did not believe that two women could be in love or have the kind of love that a man and a woman could have.

  Leonard walked in from the kitchen with a beer in his hand, “You’re going to break your daughter’s heart. She will probably never speak to you again, you understand that, right?”

  “Now you’re just being melodramatic, Leonard. She’ll be upset, I’m sure, but she’ll get over it.”

  “No, Alice, she won’t. She loves Aidan and you are just going to have to accept that. In the long run, it will be you who ends up hurt.” Leonard had lived long enough to know how these things turned out. Love will not be denied, unless you deny it first. “Alice, you’re naïve if you think the wedding won’t happen just because you’re not there. They will marry and have children, and you will be on the outside, looking in. You don’t want that, do you, Alice?”

  “My mind is made up Leonard, so let’s just drop it? I’ve got laundry to do.” And with that Alice left the room, leaving her husband to shake his head in disbelief.

  Leonard took his drink, and walked outside, to the backyard. The lake behind Vicky’s house, invited him to come fish it, and the trees beside the lake, invited him to come nap under them. But it was the voodoo stick that he walked towards. Before Vicky and Aidan left for Syria, he had placed two plastic figurines, one a fairy princess, representing Vicky, the other a prince, representing Aidan, on a pole. These were toys that his daughter played with as a child, when she would make believe that she would marry her prince, Aidan. During Desert Storm, Leonard and his buddies placed personal items on a stick, to bring them luck. And when the mission was over, they came back and retrieve their items, to save for the next mission. There were some items left on the pole, where some men didn’t come back.

  Leonard started to pick up the figurines, but changed his mind. He left them on the pole for good luck, because the war wasn’t over yet.

  ***

  “If you’re ready, I’ll go order us a pizza and some beer?” Vicky asked as she and Aidan entered their hotel room.

  “Oh yeah, I’m starved. Thanks, baby. I’ll go see if Jerry wants to join us.”

  Vicky grabbed Aidan’s arm and slipped her hand up, behind Aidan’s head, pulling her in close for a passionate, thank you, kind of kiss. Aidan kissed her back, and would have asked for more, but Vicky popped her on the butt and pointed her towards the door.

  Having never spoken of any part of Harold’s assault, until recently, it felt good to be able to tell her best friend what she went through. It seemed to take some of the pressure off her heart and she felt lighter than she had in years.

  Aidan knocked on Jerry’s door, and invited herself in. One look at him, and she knew what he was going to ask, before he asked it.

  “Listen, I’ll make it quick and give you the details later. My son-of-a-bitch father apparently is still alive. I don’t remember if I told you, but he use to beat up on me for kicks. Well now he’s after Vicky. She doesn’t know anything about this, and I want to keep it that way, okay? And just so you understand how serious I am, tomorrow I’m buying a gun.”

  “Shit,” Was all Jerry could offer.

  “Anyway, Vicky’s ordering a pizza and you’re invited to join us if you want?”

  Jerry nodded, “Sounds good,” and followed Aidan out the door.

  Handing them both a beer as they walked in the door, Vicky announced, “Okay, pizza is on its way. It should be here in about 40 minutes or so. Did you two want to watch a movie, or just sit around and guzzle beer?” She smiled at them, knowing what their answer would be…, sports.

  “How about we guzzle beer while we watch the game, what do you think, Jer?”

  Jerry clinked bottles with Aidan and said, “I second that.”

  “Which game?” Vicky naïvely asked, to which the other two snickered.

  Shrugging her shoulders, Aidan asked, “Does it matter?”

  Later that evening, after the game was long over with, and Jerry had gone back to his hotel room, Vicky lay with her head resting in Aidan’s lap. Her soft snore told Aidan that she was asleep, and the sound of it brought tears to Aidan’s eyes. Something as intimately simplistic as her lover, sleeping in her lap, filled Aidan with emotion, and for a change, she didn’t fight her tears.

  As Aidan twirled Vicky’s hair in her fingers, remembering the look of terror in her lover’s eyes from the nightmares her own father had caused, she vowed that nothing would stand in the way of their happiness, ever again. It’s almost over with, baby, we’ll get through this, and put it all behind us. Then we can finally, live the life we should have had, when we were teenagers.

  Chapter 7

  A deadline can be seen or unseen. Anticipated or dreaded. Completed or missed. In order to make something happen, people will set a deadline, a date on a calendar, to make it real. Most deadlines are dreaded, but when it’s a date for a wedding, the anticipation grows expeditiously for all those involved. But the polar opposite of that is the dreaded deadline, which usually involves decisions that won’t come easily. They require letting go of their heavy baggage. And sometimes that baggage, as traumatic as it might have been, has become a comfortable and protective shell. Letting go of that, is the hardest decision to make, and the most impossible deadline for one to meet.

&n
bsp; “Samantha Jane Vincent, reporting as ordered, sir,” Samantha was being sarcastic but, Kline was expecting as much.

  He felt she was trying to exude a tough attitude as a way of protecting herself, now that she was free. He conjectured that she was not allowed any freedom while captured, especially free will. And he was right; Samantha was trying to protect herself from so many more things now.

  She decided she was not going to talk about Aidan, and how much she had hurt her last night. She also decided not to talk about the rapes because that was the most painful. And she didn’t want to talk about the abuse, because she still felt the pain of each blow. Thinking through those, she figured that didn’t leave her much to talk about. So instead, she thought she could throw him off with a snotty attitude.

  “Won’t you come in? Would you prefer I call you Ms. Vincent or Samantha, or…?”

  “I guess I prefer you call me Ms. Vincent for now.”

  “Ah, a test. Very good, Ms. Vincent. Well I hope to earn your trust enough that you’ll feel comfortable with me,” Kline could sense that this one was not going to be easy; he would have to tread lightly with her.

  “Dr. Kline, you know I’m here against my will, right? Once again it’s been taken away from me…, whatever, just get on with it already.”

  “Ms. Vincent,” Kline reached for his pad and pen, “I’d like to take notes if you don’t mind. I have a terrible memory, and it helps if I write things down. Have you ever considered writing your feelings down?”

  “Are you crazy?” Her sarcasm dripped like poison, “In Syria I was never alone long enough to go to the bathroom by myself, let alone write in a diary.”

  “Would you tell me what a normal day was like for you, over there?”

  This question surprised Samantha, because she thought he’d want the gruesome details of the attack, or the beatings, or the rapes. But this question she thought she could handle right now. Still, she wasn’t ready yet to let down even one brick of that wall she protected herself behind, so she lashed out.

  “Okay, a normal day was fucking hot. Oh and guess what, a normal night was fucking hot too.”

  Kline played along, “That’s very interesting Ms. Vincent,” he wrote down a few notes, “So you’re saying that it was hot?”

  Samantha cocked her head and sneered at him. He is crazy! “Cut the bullshit. You’re just being sarcastic now.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought we were playing a game,” Kline gave it right back to her, then softened his approach, “Ms. Vincent, I truly am interested.”

  Rolling her eyes, Samantha started over, “Fine, whatever. In the summer it was hotter than hell over there, and they didn’t have air conditioning, just a small oscillating fan, but that thing only moved the searing heat around. They were used to the heat, but I burned like crazy the first couple of times I went outside. See, I didn’t have my sun screen with me. You know the base provides that stuff for us, but all of my personal belongings got left behind when they snatched me. Anyway, on a good day, the temp would be around a hundred and fourteen degrees, which was normal for them. What I could not get used to, was the fact there were no trees, not even a single palm tree. Oh and they make you wear these hijabs that cut off any air to your head, so you can’t stay out too long or your brains will fry like chicken in boiling grease.”

  Samantha was a native of Miami, Florida, where the average high in any season doesn’t get much above ninety-five degrees. Where palm trees not only lined the beaches, but the city streets as well, and the beautiful blue Atlantic Ocean, reflects the city’s skyscrapers in a sparkling display of liquid art.

  Kline appreciated the fact that Samantha spoke freely, openly, and he sought to keep her talking, even if it was only about the weather.

  “And what were the winters like?”

  “Actually the winters weren’t too bad. It rained more but at least you weren’t burning up. I was use to not seeing snow or having the really cold temps because I grew up in Florida, so when it actually snowed in Syria, I took it as a sign.”

  “A sign?” Kline knew that in that kind of captivity, a victim looks for anything to cling to, it helped them know there was hope.

  “Yeah, I mean the snow was so light that it didn’t stick, and it didn’t snow for long, but it was still snow, right there in the middle of the desert.”

  “What did it signify to you?”

  She lowered her head and contemplated, “I don’t know why, but it gave me hope. Like God was telling me to hold on, help was on the way,” Samantha did hold on to that sign for five more months, until Aidan rescued her. There were several occasions when she lost hope, usually when she was being abused or molested, and at times even cursed the sign as something sent by the devil. But something always brought her back to the snow as a sign of hope. She had nothing else to hold on to.

  “So you would cook and clean for them?”

  Samantha thought about all the cleaning they insisted she do, but it was a futile effort at best, because every time the wind blew in, the sand blew in with it. There always seem to be a layer of dust covering everything, and several times in the beginning; she was punished for not cleaning the way they thought she should. She came from a family whose mother did not teach her daughter the finer points of house cleaning, so the simplest tricks of cleaning were foreign to Samantha.

  Kline interrupted her thoughts by asking the question again, “Did you cook just for your husband or were there others?”

  “Oh, uh…, sometimes there were five or six others…” Samantha let her voice drop, as the horrific memories came to mind. Kline watched her intently, instinctively knowing that must have been the case. He waited to see if she would give more details but she just looked away, lost in her thoughts.

  “Ms. Vincent, tell me about your husband. Did you love him?”

  Samantha was still looking away, wiping off a tear that had somehow escaped against her wishes, “Love him? No,” she turned back to Kline and said, “No there was no love in that so called marriage. You see, it wasn’t a real marriage, in Syria or anywhere else. There was no ceremony, no minister; I don’t think they even had a religion.”

  “How did you come to be with him then?”

  “I chose him. It was the only way for me to escape the abuse of the others. And though he thought it was love, I knew it as survival. I survived, Doctor, the only way I knew how.”

  Kline’s initial analysis was correct; she was suffering from a form of survivor’s guilt.

  ***

  “Oh jeez, I think we over slept again. Vicky, wake up, baby,” Aidan nudged her sleeping lover, but Vicky didn’t move. Oh God, you’re not having that nightmare are you? Aidan leaned over and touched Vicky’s nose. She wiggled it and continued sleeping. Aidan smiled, relieved that it was nothing serious. She jumped out of bed, picked up her cell phone and went into the bathroom. She called room service first. If we were home, baby, I’d cook you the biggest breakfast, but this will have to do. Aidan ordered the works, including strong coffee. She needed to be sharp and on her toes today.

  Then she hung up and called Vicky’s best friend, Joyce. “Hi, Joyce, its Aidan, got a minute?”

  “Aidan! How are you dear?”

  “Doing great, Joyce, and how are you and your lovely wife, Ellen doing?”

  “Ellen is out of town for a few days and I’m lonely for her.”

  “Well I think I can help with that.”

  “Oh do tell?”

  Aidan could hear the innuendo in her voice, and knew she was joking. At least she hoped she was. “Why don’t you fly down here and help Vicky plan her wedding. I wouldn’t be much use to her, but I know she’d get a kick out of planning it with you.”

  “I’d love to Aidan, but I just got back from there, and besides, Ellen is the wedding consultant in the family. I wouldn’t be much use to Vicky either.”

  “You’d be here, that’s all that matters.”

  “Is something going on I should know about, Aida
n? You’re not running off to Syria again, or some other civil war ravaged country, are you?”

  Apparently, Joyce still had some unresolved issues with Aidan, which Aidan was not aware of, until just now, but now was not the time to address them.

  “No, I just know she was upset she missed you the last time.”

  “Uh-huh. All right, I can probably get someone to cover for me at the hospital another day or so, and can be there this afternoon. This will be fun, thanks for the suggestion Aidan!”

  Aidan let out a sigh of relief just as the bathroom door opened and Vicky walked in. Aidan quickly hung up the phone, stood up, then cringed, realizing she had just hung up on Vicky’s best friend. Oh well, one more thing Joyce can add to her list.

  Picking up her hair brush, Vicky asked, “Everything okay, sweetheart?”

  “Here, let me do that,” Aidan took the brush from Vicky, and began brushing her hair, “You have such soft, sensual hair. I could stand here all day and do this.” Aidan wasn’t kidding, she loved the silkiness of it in between her fingers.

  And as much as Vicky got turned on by watching her lover caressing her hair, she knew something was up, and wasn’t about to let Aidan off the hook so easily.

  “Something is going on, isn’t it? Might as well tell me now, I’ll find out sooner or later,” Vicky turned around and looked up at Aidan.

  “Okay, you caught me. You know it’s getting harder and harder to surprise you these days.”

  “A surprise? What kind of surprise?” Vicky did love surprises, especially ones that came from her lover.

  “Joyce is flying in this afternoon to help you get started making plans for the wedding.”

  Vicky let out a squeal, and hugged her. This was a surprise indeed, one she didn’t see coming, but now couldn’t wait for it to happen.

  “Oh that is a good surprise! We’ll go shopping, and pick out colors, and look at churches, and—”

 

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