That remark puzzled me until Greg spoke, assuring her that she mustn’t worry, we didn’t want anything from her. When I realized that she’d thought we meant to blackmail her, I felt horrible.
“Here’s the way it is, Jane,” I said once she’d calmed herself enough to listen. “We know that there must be some reason for what you did. You’re not a bad person, not at all. And we want to help you, not hurt you.”
As I spoke the fear faded from her face, replaced by a faint look of hope. She listened as we outlined our plan.
“There are two things we need your word on, Jane,” Greg said. “We want a promise that you won’t set any more fires, and we want you to get counselling.”
“Do you think I’m crazy?” she asked. The tone of her voice suggested that she thought so herself.
“Not at all,” I reached out my hand, putting it over hers. “We think that someone hurt you badly and you need to talk to a professional about it.”
“How did you know?” she gasped before catching herself. As soon as she’d said it, I could see she regretted the admission. Her eyes lowered and she refused to look at us.
“Jane, it’s not your fault.” I could see shame on her face, and my heart ached for her.
More tears came then, but they were different from the earlier ones. She sobbed as if something had broken open and the tears that had been held inside for years were being let loose.
We let her cry it out, and then Greg told her that his father was a doctor of psychology and would counsel her free of charge for as long as she needed.
“I can’t get away from home,” she said, fear and panic in her voice.
“Don’t worry about that. He’ll set it up with the school and meet with you there. No one has to know anything about it.”
Before she left, some time later, Jane talked to Greg about setting his shed on fire. She explained that she knew people were saying that Greg’s dad was the fire starter, and had done it to help clear him. She’d made the phone call so that she could be sure he’d be away from the house at the time.
“I never wanted to hurt anyone,” she wept.
“It’s all over now,” he told her. “Everything is going to be okay.”
As we watched her make her way along the road I wondered about that. Was it possible that things could ever really be all right for this poor girl? Whatever had been done to her must have been horrible. I turned back to Greg, realizing something.
“I guess I should have been calling your dad Dr. Taylor instead of Mr. Taylor all this time.”
“He doesn’t care about stuff like that.”
“You really believe that your father can help her, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do. It’s amazing how much people can survive and overcome, if they get help.”
I sure hoped he was right. I don’t think I’ll ever get the thought of Jane out of my mind. And I know I’ll never judge unpleasant people again without wondering what makes them the way they are.
“Well, we did it,” I said. “I’m glad your idea worked.”
“Me too.” He seemed uncomfortable all of a sudden and didn’t look at me. A brief, awkward silence grew between us.
“I guess I should go now.” In spite of our success, I felt miserable.
“I guess so.”
I slipped on my jacket and shoes and opened the door.
“Bye then.” I wished he’d asked me to stay for a bit or given me some sign that he felt differently than he had lately. I stepped outside and started toward the street.
“Shelby, wait.”
My heart leapt, and I turned to see him coming behind me. He was smiling.
“I’ll walk you home.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I read this book a few years ago about a kid named Trevor who did good deeds for three people, and they were to do the same for three others, and so on. It was called Pay it Forward, and I liked it a lot because of the idea that the entire world could become a better place because of something one person did.
I think it’s really true, too; you can make a difference, if not in the whole world, then at least where you live. When we first started having fires in Little River it created fear and suspicion and a lot of gossip that could have ended up hurting innocent people. The thing is, most folks weren’t looking at the reason for the fires, they were looking at the effect, and that was a mistake.
When I got interested in the whole thing and decided to try to figure it out, my focus was on finding out who was doing it. I have to confess that I didn’t much care about why. If Dr. Taylor hadn’t lent me the book on fire starters, I would never have come to understand that everything a person does is for a reason.
Who knows, maybe I would eventually have put together the evidence that pointed to Jane without ever learning anything about what caused her to set fires. I’m glad it didn’t work out that way. Catching her wasn’t nearly as important as helping her, and that was the big lesson for me in all of this.
A lot of things have happened since the day that Greg and I confronted Jane in his kitchen. I have to say that I’m proud to have been a small part of it. The experience has taught me to look at people and events in new ways. I think I was pretty shallow before, though it’s not easy to admit that, and I hope I’ve become a better person. I was quick to find fault in others and didn’t put much effort into looking past that. I managed to overlook the fact that my habit of being judgemental wasn’t exactly an attractive trait.
Well, Jane saw Greg’s dad twice a week for almost a month before she was finally able to unburden the secret she’d been carrying all these years. I don’t know the details, and they’re really not important, but I do know that for Jane, the nightmare of sexual abuse is finally over.
Jane’s stepfather was arrested, and even though he hasn’t gone to trial yet, at least he can’t hurt her any more. She and her mom are getting therapy to help them deal with the whole sad mess, and I see a big change in her already. For one thing, she now has some best friends — me and Betts! It’s amazing to think that at the start of the school year I could hardly stand her, and now we’re hanging out all the time.
It turns out that Jane is a pretty neat person and brave too. After she disclosed the abuse, she started talking to other people about it. She had learned that she had nothing to be ashamed of, that she had been a victim. More importantly, she was determined to become a survivor! Her courage in passing on a message of hope and healing made a difference to other kids too, because some of them have come forward and told their own secrets.
Jane asked me one day what the proof was that Greg and I had talked about the day we confronted her at his house. I was a bit embarrassed to have to tell her that we had been bluffing, and it worried me that she might be mad that we’d lied. Instead, she laughed, gave me a hug, and thanked me!
Then she told me she was going to the police about the fires. While I stared in astonishment, she explained that she knew she had to take responsibility for what she’d done.
“I’ve learned that living with secrets is the worst thing a person can do,” she said. “Whatever they do to me can’t be any worse than carrying around the guilt and the fear of being found out someday. I’m going to confess and get it over with.”
It turned out that was the best choice she could have made. Even though charges were laid and she has to go to court for sentencing soon, it doesn’t look too bleak. Dr. Taylor is going to help by speaking on her behalf at the hearing. The probation officer, who is preparing something called a Predisposition Report for the court, was also kind and understanding. He’s recommending that she be given probation, and we’re hoping that the judge will agree with that.
Jane Goodfellow set fires, and that was wrong. Her actions caused needless fear and destruction. But out of the ashes came amazing changes, for her and for other people too.
I guess the people of Little River always thought sexual abuse was some horrible thing that happened other places. No one thou
ght it was going on right in our own quiet town. But it was, and now it’s easier for victims to speak out and get help.
Still, statistics suggest that there are many others who have not yet found the courage to tell. I know that some of them are scared and ashamed and that it must be really hard to trust anyone enough to talk about something like that. But their silence keeps them trapped and makes it possible for their abusers to keep on hurting them. I hope that the day comes when everyone in the whole world who has ever been abused will find a person to trust and to tell.
It’s good to know that after all the suffering, there is healing at the end. Healing for Jane and for Little River.
I guess that one of the best parts of this whole thing for me has been that I learned not to take people at face value. It takes work to get to know someone, to look past things that might tempt you to dislike him or her, but it’s worth it.
My relationship with Greg Taylor is a good example of that. I remember how I felt about him before and how I wanted to avoid him because I hadn’t taken the time to look past things that made him different from most of the kids I knew. Now I know that those are some of the very things that make him special. He’s someone I hope to get to know even better as time goes by.
I knew Greg had finally forgiven me for how I’d treated him when I got an e-mail from him one day after school. At first it looked like gibberish, but after I studied it for a while I saw that it was actually a cryptogram. Once I’d deciphered it, I discovered that it was a funny poem he’d written about a girl named Shelby, who wasn’t the worst detective in the world after all. Thank goodness I figured it out, or I might have fallen back into that category!
I’d like to say that Greg and I are dating, but that hasn’t happened. I think he’s taking things slow, making sure he can trust me. Maybe he’ll ask me out some day, and maybe he never will. Whatever happens, I know that he’s a friend well worth having, and I hope that he feels the same way about me.
I have to admit, though, that these days when Betts teases me by saying that Greg is the Man of My Dreams, I don’t argue with her.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I once envisioned the work of a writer unfolding in a solitary place where, closed off from the world, marvelous creations could be wrought. Instead, I have learned that the life of a story is dependent not on silence, but rather, on the steady voices of the world.
In the world that is mine, there are many whose voices have influenced my work.
For this, I thank:
My husband and partner, Brent, for his endless love, support and encouragement.
My children, Anthony and Pamela, for inspiring me daily.
My parents, Bob and Pauline Russell, for teaching me to love literature.
My sixth grade teacher, Alf Lower, for planting the seed that grew.
My brothers Danny and Andrew, the Sherrard family, my friends Janet Aube, John Hambrook, Karen Donovan and Mark Rhodes, and my coworkers at Glenelg, for cheering me on.
And of course, my editor, Barry Jowett, for his guidance and unfailing kindness.
Out of the Ashes Page 14
