by Lada Ray
“That would be wonderful,” I said dreamily, to the accompaniment of Rachel's giggles. “But since that's not going to happen, I might as well resign to the fact that I need to figure it all out by myself.”
“Right,” agreed Rachel. “Oh, and by the way, aren't you forgetting one tintsy-wintsy little thing?”
“What's that?”
“Finding proof, my friend! A rather difficult, if not impossible task after all these years.”
“It's all in a day's work,” I waived her doubts away carelessly. “Somehow I'll find it. I know, I will. I have to!”
“I admire your confidence,” she said with a laugh. “And you know what? If anyone else said that, I'd think them unrealistic braggarts. But you, darling… I know, you can!”
With these encouraging words we said goodbye and I set out to my new “day's work,” which included trying to figure out just how to prove the unprovable.
I knocked on Adelaide's door, a bag, containing one of the “Famous Old World Cranberry Cakes” from the Stepford Fair, clutched in my hand. A nice surprise for Jason. I also brought a small can of fresh cream, a treat for Princess Lily, and a bunch of daisies from my garden for Adelaide.
A couple of minutes later I sat in the inviting living room of this old house - already my favorite - surrounded by people whom I already regarded as family, with Princess Lily purring contentedly on my lap. Adelaide and I have just re-confirmed our meeting at the cat shelter at noon the next day.
Jason finished his slice of cranberry cake and asked for seconds, which gave me indescribable pleasure. Adelaide looked happy seeing how alive and joyful Jason was. But I could tell, her health was still fragile. She nibbled at her tiny slice and went to her bedroom to take an afternoon nap. She did that lately every chance she got, trying to accumulate strength for those days when she had to do a lot of physical activity. Jason volunteered to help her get to her room, but she declined, saying that we should just enjoy ourselves.
“By the way, Mom,” he said. “Tomorrow, I'll be at the farm all day. Tom asked me to stay late and I might need to remain there for a few days. Lots to do this time of year. So, if you need anything, just call on my cell, okay?”
“Sure, dear. This work does you good.” She kissed him on a cheek. Then hugged me. “I'll say goodbye now, Jade. I'll see you tomorrow at the shelter.”
I watched with a feeling of gentle warmth, as this old lady climbed the stairs. I've only known her for three weeks. But that old woman possessed powerful magic - she was the quintessential mother. When Jason was behind bars, not being able to bestow her boundless love on him, she adopted the cats at the animal shelter, and the battered women, and the knitting club. So all encompassing her love was, that even after Jason returned, while enveloping him in the ultimate warmth of her heart, she still had enough for cats, and the unfortunate women... and for me.
She gave me a final wave at the top of the stairs and disappeared into her bedroom. As I waved back, a strange feeling of an impending loss came upon me. I frowned, puzzled, then shrugged it off, sure that my pregnancy was, yet again, playing a trick.
I turned to Jason, who was gazing at me with an adoring smile. “So, how's your work?”
“Fine,” he said. “I am gaining experience. I want to work in agriculture going forward. So, it's good practice.”
He stared at his darkened hands and suddenly said in a deep, hoarse voice, “It was in jail when I first got interested in farm work. First several years were hell.” He fell silent, his face a mask of pain, eyes unseeing. I didn't interrupt.
“I still don't know how I survived,” he continued. “I was the youngest and the weakest. Didn't know anyone or anything. It's a jungle out there. Much worse than a jungle. They picked on me, tortured me. I had to do things, disgusting things. I suffered, suffered terribly, especially because I didn't understand how a thing like that could happen, when I wasn't... when I didn't...”
I put my calming hand on top of his dark, callused one. He squeezed it lightly and gratefully.
“These cuts,” my finger traced one of the deep trenches on his right hand, “are they from jail?”
“Yes,” he whispered, hardly breathing, keeping still and expectant, his eyes closed.
“So, what happened then?”
He exhaled, getting back to reality. “I started training, and as I became physically stronger, fewer and fewer tried to force me to do things I didn't want to do. But I wasn't at peace. I was so tortured that I started initiating brawls and picking on others whenever I could. That didn't sit very well with authorities. I was in trouble so often that I lost any eligibility for parole. But in all honesty, even if I didn't lose it, I knew I'd be denied. There were plenty of people who were against it anyway. It was better that way, less disappointment. It got so bad that at some point I was thinking seriously about ending my life. The only thing that stopped me was that it would kill Mom.
“In my seventh year in jail, I became friends with a man who used to be a farmer. He taught me about working with the earth and plants, we talked about seasons, merits of various crops, weather conditions, you name it. The jail had a small garden and we both volunteered to work there. We convinced the warden to expand the garden plot. He didn't mind. It kept us out of trouble and provided fresh vegetables for the table. Before long, the two of us managed a small farm with some help from other inmates. I was alive again. That farm gave me purpose and for the first time, I wasn't dreading getting out of bed. I was almost anticipating it.”
We sat quietly for a while, then I said to him, “You know Jason, I have a feeling that bad times are almost over. Life will be much better soon.”
He smiled at me mysteriously. “You're right. Much better.”
“Jason,” I said. “I have to ask you this.”
“Sure, anything,” he said with some kind of hopeful readiness.
“I think you suspect who might've been the real rapists. Why don't you do something about it?”
“Oh, that,” he said, wincing. His face looked disappointed, as if he expected a different question. “I know what you're thinking, Jade. After everything I've been through, don't I want justice served? Well, I do, and you're right, I do suspect. Hell, more than suspect - I know who committed the rape! But what's the use. It's been too long. Too late for justice.”
“It's never too late,” I disagreed ardently. “You can't give up, Jason! Let me help. What do you know? Who do you suspect? Tell me! I can help. If we put our heads together...”
He took my hands into his and held them gently. “My darling, wonderful Jade,” he said with a dreamy smile that made my heart skip. “You have no idea how much your belief in me means. Thank you for that from the very bottom of my soul. But don't ask me to share my suspicions with you.”
“But why? Why?”
“Because I'm not sure I want anyone else to go to jail. I committed a terrible sin when I tried to take advantage of Rebbecca, and paid for it. It's done, finished, over. What's the point in sending someone else to jail? These people have families, kids. What purpose would that serve? I learned my lesson, and they probably learned theirs. I'm sure they'd never do anything like that again.”
“Oh, Jason,” I shook my head in awed disbelieve. “God bless you for your kindness, but boy, how mistaken you are about those people! As much as I'd love for that to be true, I wouldn't hold my breath that they've learned any lessons at all.”
“May be you are right, but I'd feel wrong inflicting pain on others. Their lives will be ruined if they go to jail. And of all people, I understand about jail and ruined lives.”
“Darling,” I said, exasperated. “What are you talking about? Those people didn't have any qualms about inflicting pain on you or Rebbecca...” I stopped, because it was clear that I wasn't getting anywhere with him. He, after all, was Adelaide's son and she was the most stubborn woman I've ever met.
“Besides,” quietly said Jason, “there's another reason I don't want to talk to you
about this subject.”
“Oh? What's that?”
“I don't want you to get hurt. If you are right and those people haven't learned their lesson, the less you know, the better.” I looked at him, surprised. So, he wasn't naïve after all. Turned out, he understood the situation much better than it seemed.
Meanwhile, he continued. “I know, you won't rest until you get to the very bottom of this. But it is a very dangerous bottom, Jade! I want you to stay as far as possible from all this ugliness. Because you are... you are very… special. You are one of a kind, like the rarest jewel. I need you to be safe, and healthy, and happy. Because... I love you.”
And with these words Jason took me in his arms and kissed me full on the mouth.
The very first second I was stunned, the next - really curious. Turned out, he was a great kisser! I pressed my lips closer to his and gave myself fully to his sensuous touch. He kissed me hungrily, yet tenderly, then gently opened my lips with his tongue and felt inside. I let my tongue meet his and we explored each other for a long, delicious, suspended eternity. I allowed my body to melt into his arms and swoon, swoon... for just one more otherworldly moment, before waking up from this delicious dream.
As I walked back home, the taste of his kiss was still on my lips, my head was spinning and confusion reigned supreme in my head. He said, “I love you...” These words again and again replayed in my head. I savored his taste in my mouth, a little bitter, but also so sweet, so manly, and so vulnerable, too. I was going crazy.
Wake up, Jade, I said to myself. You love Paul, remember? And Paul loves you! “Oh, Jason, Jason...” I moaned in response. What do I do now? This was getting awfully complicated.
I unlocked my door and went inside, trying to find refuge in my warm, inviting kitchen, still breathing hard, but hoping that the throbbing heartache would go away. But it didn't. I curled up on the couch and closed my eyes, willing myself to sleep.
I woke up when it was already dark. I got up from the couch, surprised at how long I've slept. I must've been exhausted. I stretched with gusto and smiled at my reflection in the mirror. Life was great and I was in a terrific mood. I smacked my lips, savoring their wonderfully sexy, bittersweet taste. Ummm, delicious.
I giggled. But then, I recalled Jason's kiss and within seconds, my good mood was gone and the confusion was back.
At that moment, the phone rang.
“Hello, it's me,” said Rachel.
“Hi, Rache,” I said, relieved. She was the only person I didn't mind talking to right now.
“I have some news,” she said. “I've been thinking about Rebbecca. I also talked to Professor Strauss about our visit to the clinic and Rebbecca's strange behavior. We came to a conclusion that she is, possibly, being intimidated.”
“Professor Strauss agrees with you?”
“Yes, he does. Of course this is pure speculation at this point. Hypothetically, what if your spirit is broken after an extremely traumatic experience and what if someone, who you fear most, comes to visit all the time to remind you again and again of the horror you had experienced? What if that someone is ruthless enough to also give you certain drugs under the guise of a treatment?”
“What kind of drugs are we talking about?”
“Could be any number of things, or a combination thereof. Hard to say without examination and testing. Unfortunately, we didn't get a chance to observe her long enough. But it would be something that under certain circumstances would further inhibit her already broken will and multiply her fears. There are some seemingly innocuous drugs out there that in combination with others will cause hallucinations and delusions, may induce a sense of extreme isolation, paranoia and suicidal tendencies. And even inhibit the ability to speak.”
“Right,” I said.
“Here’s what may have happened. After the rape, Rebbecca was naturally in shock and afraid to speak up for fear of retribution, seeing that the chief investigator was the father of one of the rapists. But eventually, given proper care and environment, she may have recovered. However, the rapists couldn't take such a chance. They had to continue reinforcing her fears. That's why they kept visiting her. Who knows what they did, when they were alone with her. It just takes a few seconds, provided no one's looking, to whisper something threatening in one's ear. Add to that a sense of absolute isolation and entrapment the poor girl probably felt. Plus, her already damaged psyche and a belief that she had not a single friend left - and there you have it. They didn't need much: just a tiny nudge in the right direction, and the girl's naturally frail and disoriented state would do the rest.”
“Rache, I agree completely,” I said. “But you do realize what that means, don't you? Someone at the clinic had to be in on it!”
“Yes,” admitted Rachel reluctantly. “However hard it is for me to think that someone in the healing profession would stoop... I must say, that's the most plausible scenario.”
“Nurse Blake?”
“I don't know. She does fit the bill in some respects. Full access to Rebbecca as a head nurse in charge of the long-term ward, possibly enough experience to know her drugs and dosages. But, no, I still think they needed a doctor to accomplish that. Someone with not only good knowledge of drugs and their combinations, but also someone with authority. Someone, who'd been at the clinic long enough and had a chance to observe Rebbecca. Who knew how she'd respond to certain drugs and circumstances.”
“Someone,” I continued, “who's a member of the good old boys' club. Someone, like Doctor Gray, the chief psychiatrist of the Berkshire Hope Clinic.”
“R-right,” said Rachel slowly, and I could almost see her wrinkling her forehead, processing... “Tell you what. I'm going to pass this idea on to Professor Strauss. He's on the Board of the American Psychiatric Association. Maybe there's something he can do.”
“Oh, that would be brilliant, Rache!” I said excitedly. “May be the APA could send a commission to investigate. Because if we show our faces again, we'd probably be thrown out on our ear.”
“Yeah.” She seemed hesitant. “I'll see what I can do. I do have to manage your expectations though. The professor is very uncomfortable with this whole situation. If he raises false alarm and maligns his colleague unjustly, he'll risk damaging his own reputation in the field, perhaps, irreversibly. And reputation for a psychiatrist is everything – more than everything. He trusts me and he knows I wouldn't say these things lightly, but...”
“I understand,” I said in a voice that failed to hide my disappointment.
Rachel heard it. “If only you could find proof - any proof of foul play - it would make my job of convincing him to start making waves infinitely easier.”
“Then proof I shall find,” I said resolutely. “At whatever the cost!”
Chapter 23
Adelaide didn't show up at the animal shelter. Amy and I cleaned cages, petted and fed the cats, expecting Adelaide to walk through the door any minute… But in vain. When it finally struck two p.m. and I distinctly heard Amy's stomach growling with hunger, I suggested she'd go and get herself proper lunch. She hesitated. Since the shelter was so dependent on donations and good will of volunteers, it was always either feast or famine situation, both literally and metaphorically. Clearly, this was one of the famine days, when no one but me showed up. Even Adelaide, who could always be trusted to be there, bailed. It was completely unlike her, especially because we agreed that she'd show me the ropes, and that concerned me. What if something happened? What if she wasn't feeling well? With all that recent worry about Jason...
I decided that I'd call her later, or stop by her house in the evening. For the time being, I put these thoughts out of my mind because I had to help Amy. But there was one complication. I was new and inexperienced, and Amy didn't feel comfortable leaving me alone. I had to reassure her.
“Look, I may be new, but I wasn't born yesterday. I'll watch kitties, answer phones and feed them, if you like. Just show me what to do and go. You deserve your lunch
break.”
“Actually,” she said, hesitantly, “I'm really hungry and I haven't brought lunch today. We already fed the cats earlier. So hopefully, they'll be sleeping and won't bother you. I am going to get lunch and come straight back, okay?”
“Everything will be fine,” I assured her. “Don't rush. Have a normal sit down meal at a cafe. Just leave your cell phone number and I'll call you, if I need anything.”
“It's a deal.” Amy was visibly relieved.
When she left, I walked along the isles with kitty cages, some of whom lifted their heads and watched me. I petted a few of them, said some soothing words to the others and went to the front to call Adelaide. Her cell gave me a canned response that this customer was not available right now and to please try later. That didn't sound like Adelaide at all. She was very responsible and would have at least called me, if she couldn't make it. And to keep her phone off was also not her style, as far as I knew. Perhaps, I should try her at home? But after a brief search, I realized that I didn't bring her home number.
I didn't like it, but I couldn't leave Amy without help. There was nothing to it other than to wait patiently until evening.
I found myself busy helping Amy, till I finally looked at the clock in disbelief. It was past six p.m. My stomach was reminding me of my new, three full meals a day regime quite insistently. I said goodbye to all my new kitty friends and deciding that a dinner would do me a world of good, stopped by Athens, the Greek cafe I passed on the way to the shelter. After a satisfying dinner, I called Adelaide again. Still, no answer. I decided to do some shopping at the nearby deli. I was running low on supplies and, if Adelaide wasn't at her best, she'd want some supplies, too.
Having picked up half a dozen yogurts, some eggs, a couple of loaves of freshly baked multigrain bread, a few muffins, some freshly grilled vegetables, as well as chicken-Provençal and artichoke salad, the deli's specialty, I was on my way to Adelaide's place. It suddenly occurred to me that after a day of cleaning litter boxes and petting kitties, which left plenty of fur on my clothes, I should first go home and change. I'll take a quick shower and throw on something fresh. And then, I'll go straight to her, I've decided.
