by Rae Agatha
There was a complete silence in the room. Monica dried her eyes with a tissue and reached out for her coffee again.
“Do you think you might try to describe the perpetrator?”
“Nothing more apart from the fact that he was white, had a husky voice and that he had the most terrifying eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. Eyes I’m sure I’ll never forget.”
“Are you going to find him?” Rick asked.
“It’s very possible. We have DNA samples, so it probably won’t take long.”
Monica smiled bitterly. They had DNA samples. Of course.
“Who called the ambulance?” Monica asked.
“Someone used your cell phone, but we don’t know who it was. We’re assuming it was the mugging victim you wanted to help, but it’s a far-fetched theory.”
“Is that all, detective?” Monica asked.
“Yes, for now, I believe it is. Thank you so much for your time, and let me express once more how sorry I am for what has happened.” Martin Jackson got up and shook hands with both of them. “We’ll be in touch. If you recall anything else, please let me know,” he put his business card on a nightstand and left.
“That was stupid of me, wasn’t it?” Monica said.
“What was? What are you talking about?”
“That I got involved, that I wanted to help. If I hadn’t reacted, nothing would have happened.”
“No, don’t think like that, please.”
“But it’s true,” she said quietly. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe he would just take the guy’s wallet and leave, maybe nothing horrible would have happened. And now – look at me.”
Rick sat on her bed and took her hand. “You did something remarkable; you helped someone in need. Not everyone would do that,” he said trying to sound as convincing as possible.
“Exactly,” she scuffed.
“Mon, what if – what if you saved someone’s life that evening?”
She looked at him and started sobbing again. He hugged her tightly.
“You’re the most wonderful, caring person in the world. You followed your heart, you reacted when you saw something horrible, something evil happening. Nobody could have predicted what happened next.” Rick felt so proud of her and yet, at the same time, he felt he was holding a grudge she allowed something like that to happen to her. It wasn’t something he thought he would ever say out loud, he hid it at the bottom of his heart not to allow it to sting anyone but him.
“I want to go home, Rick. Please take me home.”
“I’ll ask Dr. Anderson, okay?” He looked at her. “I’ll be right back.”
She nodded and let him go. Rick found Dr. Anderson in his office.
“How is she doing, Doc.?”
“She’s doing really fine. The wounds are healing, she is not suffering from any post-concussion syndromes.”
“Does this mean I can take her home today?”
“Tomorrow, like I said. Tomorrow in the morning, you can come and take her home.”
“Is there anything special I need to remember while taking care of her at home?”
“No, not really. Her wounds will be less visible with every day. I definitely do not want her to go to work for the next two weeks. She needs to calm, to rest, to relax, she needs to feel safe again before she resumes her previous, for the lack of a better word, life. Just be with her. I think it’s the best you can do.”
“I will. I always am.” Really?
“And – as painful as it sounds – if you have sex, be extra cautious during the next three months until we’re sure Monica doesn’t have HIV,”Dr. Anderson said in a slightly apologetic way.
Rick did not answer, he only nodded. He hadn’t thought of that, however, seeing the bruises on her thighs, he assumed that sex would not be their problem anytime soon.
He went to her room and told her they would be back home together the next morning. Monica was a bit disappointed, but understood. Later on they ate lunch together and watched some TV. In a strange way, it all seemed as if their lives were coming back to normal.
V
Rick came back home late in the afternoon with a list of things Monica asked him to bring her the next morning. Underwear, pants, a sweater, socks, her coat, a green scarf (her favorite one), some make up to limit the amount of people staring at her outside the hospital. He was thinking he might do some shopping or clean the apartment; anything that would help him pass the time. He did not feel like writing, but he couldn’t find himself any place at home either. Martha called and he updated her on Monica’s condition. When Rick told her under what circumstances his wife was assaulted, his mother only sighed and said:
“I’ve always known and said it’s worth to be a decent person, however, I’ve never said it always pays off.”
It struck him. Was his mother being painfully honest or cynical? Was there really any big difference between those two, on the other hand?
When he finished talking to Martha, he decided to call Marty. Neither him nor Alice knew what had happened, so Rick thought he ought to let them know. To his surprise, the moment he grabbed his cell phone, he saw Marty’s phone number on display, an incoming call.
“Hi, Marty.”
“Hi Rick, how are you?”
“Well…”
“Yeah, okay, enough with the small talk, listen, Alice and I are going to the bar, the place we usually hang out, we thought perhaps Moricka would like to join us for a drink?”
“A bar? On a Wednesday evening? What’s the occasion?”
“Yeah, it’s more possible to find a free table, ha, ha. Nah, we just felt like going out.”
“I won’t be a good companion tonight, Marty, I’m sorry.”
“What are you talking about? I don’t want to hear such gibberish, give me Monica, she’ll know what to say, ha, ha!”
“I can’t, man. She’s not here. She’s in hospital.”
Marty was immediately silent.
“Is – is she okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I guess you might say so, considering –“
“Okay, let’s meet and talk, all right?” Marty said seriously.
At first Rick was quite reluctant toward seeing anyone, but he looked around the apartment and figured he probably wouldn’t be able to find anything to do there, anyway. Monica was safe, she had her phone, and she promised she would call if she needed anything. Yes, he could go.
“All right, I’ll see you there,” Rick took his jacket and left the apartment.
About an hour later he was sitting with Alice and Marty in the bar, drinking beer. He told them everything that was going on in Moricka’s life since Monday and they were, naturally, shocked. He told them everything, apart from VD and HIV possibilities; he felt it was too private.
“I can’t believe that. And all of this happened because she wanted to help somebody,” Alice said.
“Yes.”
“How is she holding up?” Marty asked.
“I think she’s getting better. You know, baby steps, but she even smiled a bit today and was more communicative than on Tuesday. So, um, I guess we’re making progress, but it’s all still very fresh, I don’t think it’ll be that easy to leave it all behind.” I don’t think it’ll ever be possible.
“No, of course not,” Alice replied. “How are you doing?”
Rick drank some beer and waved his hand in an “it’s not important” gesture. “It doesn’t matter. It breaks my heart when I see what was done to Monica, when I hear her crying and touch the bruises on her body. I’m shaky, but I think it’s understandable. Seriously, how could I complain about anything when I look at her? I can’t even imagine how she must be feeling.”
“It’s so weird not seeing you together,” Alice said sadly looking at first at Rick and then at her half-filled glass.
“Moricka is on a break,” he replied, smiled sadly, and finished up his beer.
“Another round?” Marty asked pointing to the empty bottle.
“
Sure, why not.”
Three young men, in their twenties, were sitting by the counter. They were laughing loudly and were toasting one time after another. Rick looked at them and thought that either they passed their spring exams with flying colors, or were trying to drown their failures. Marty came with three beers and Rick asked them how he and Alice were doing. At first, they were reluctant to answer, having a feeling their stories were irrelevant in comparison to what Moricka was going through, but Rick assured them he really was curious and that he was positive Monica would love to know how they were doing, too. The big news was that Alice and Marty bought a house. They signed the mortgage papers on that particular day and the initial idea was to come to the bar and celebrate it a bit. Rick cordially and genuinely congratulated them and promised to pass the information to his wife. While Alice was describing him the house, he realized that the boys by the counter were talking about someone who was raped. Rick immediately looked in their direction and started listening to what they were talking about.
“I’m telling you, man, it was on the news! The woman was raped!”
Are they talking about Monica? What the hell?
“Oh come on, man, that’s impossible. I mean it just doesn’t make any sense,” replied one of the boys, who was already clearly tipsy. “Who on earth would do such a sick thing?”
“I know, right? I mean, they said she was seventy-five!”
“Yuck, man, come on, I’m eating here!” Said the third kid who was digging his fries in ketchup. They all started laughing.
“I mean, seriously, how fucked up was that? I bet he was really drunk when he was sticking it, that would have to be the only way he wouldn’t puke,” the first guy said and the whole bunch started laughing again.
“Yeah, but imagine his face once he realized how old she was! Imean, fuck, I can understand the young ones, sure, they’re hot,” replied the tipsy one.
“Not all of them, man, come on, ha, ha!”
“Yeah, I mean, if I saw a fat chick, and I mean like really fat, I wouldn’t even think of raping her. I mean, you know, as a punishment!” Again all of them burst into laughter.
Rick wasn’t even pretending anymore that he was listening to Alice. He felt his blood was about to cook inside his veins. He got up and walked toward the boys.
“What are you guys talking about?” He asked as calmly as possible.
“None of your fucking business,” the brat with the fries replied.
“Kid, you’ve got ketchup under your nose,” Rick replied pointing at him. The boy was a little bit put off his stroke. “No, I mean, I can tell it’s funny as hell here, I was wondering what the buzz was so my friends and I could have a laugh, too. Go on, humor us.”
“Get the fuck out of here, man.”
“No, the thing is,” the boy in the middle started talking, “that Pete saw in the news today that a seventy-five-year old lady was raped last night in the park,” he said and was visibly waiting for Rick to start laughing. He did not react at all, though, only kept on listening. “I mean, come on, a seventy-five year old? I mean, it’s – it’s hilarious! Imagine the guy’s face when he saw what he was banging!” The boy continued and both him and his friends burst out laughing.
“I think we better do something,” Alice nudged Marty. “He’s going to kill them.” Marty nodded and they both got up.
“I still don’t see what’s funny about it,” Rick muttered out through his teeth.
“That she was old. Come on man, I mean if you break the law, at least do it right!” The ketchup kid replied and reached out for another fry.
At that point Alice touched Rick’s shoulder, but he ignored it and simply grabbed the boy by his shirt; the basket with fries fell on the floor.
“What’s your problem, man?!” The brat shouted. “My problem is that you’re a stupid shithead, who doesn’t give a crap about other people!” Rick replied breathing heavily and lifted the boy. “My problem is that you’re all dumb sons of bitches who are too ignorant and too fucking retarded to understand the world around you!” he threw the boy on the floor and looked at his two friends who were sitting by the counter nervously watching everything that was happening. It seemed they all got immediately sober.
“My problem is that you, pathetic twits, don’t understand that a woman was attacked, that she is scared out of her mind right now, that she no longer feels safe and you use her tragedy, her horror, to make fun of her while you’re sitting cozy in a bar, acting all stupid. Who of you, dumbasses, would have helped her if you saw it happening, huh!?”
Rick came closer to the boys sitting by the counter. “Who of you would have helped her, I am asking!?” He shouted at them, looking straight into their eyes. It gave him a tremendous satisfaction to see that they were clearly scared of him. Most of the people in the bar were silent, watching what was going on. “None of you, that’s the truth,” Rick continued, pointing at each of them, including the guy on the floor, with his finger. “You’d rather piss your pants and run to your mammas than take a stand. Ignorant assholes.”
“Rick,” Marty said standing behind him. Rick raised his hand in a “don’t interrupt me” gesture. At that point some of the people in the bar started clapping, but he just looked around, but instead of being glad he had people’s support he only said: “All of you sitting closely to the counter heard what the punks were talking about, am I right?” A lot of people nodded. “And yet none of you reacted. You heard a bunch of juveniles making jokes concerning rape, saying appalling, horrible things about women, and yet none of you,” he pointed at them, “even asked them to speak more quietly. Well, congratulations, society. I can only hope none of you ever face such sons of bitches in a dark alley one day. Because they weren’t joking, they only think they were. What they were really doing, was showing they don’t care, that they don’t give a fuck, that they have no respect for people. It’s the first step. The ignorance.”
People went silent, had no idea how to react. Rick only put his jacket on and left the bar slamming the door. Alice and Marty ran after him.
“Rick!” She shouted.
He turned around.
“Where are you going?” Marty asked.
“I need to breathe a little, okay? I need to go for a walk.”
They were standing in front of him, not knowing what to say.
“It’s okay, I’m fine. I’m not going to walk around and beat people, don’t worry,” he said calmly. He was being honest, he really felt the anger had vaporized.
“Maybe we’ll go with you?” Alice asked.
“No, it’s fine. You go home, honestly, I’ll be all right. Don’t get me wrong, but I actually really need some time on my own.”
“Okay,” Alice replied and hugged him. Marty did the same.
“Hang on, man. Call us if you need anything, you and Monica, okay?”
“Sure, thank you.”
“Please tell Monica we’re thinking of her, all right?”
“Of course.”
“Bye, Rick!”
“Bye.”
***
Rick wandered around the neighborhood for God only knows how long. He felt tired, he felt he should go home, but the single thought of going back to an empty apartment was making it truly discouraging. There were people passing him by, some of them were jogging, some walking their dogs, others were strolling holding hands and laughing.
He was thinking about the situation in the bar. The brats, they didn’t matter to him, they were just stupid, people too dumb to understand the world around them, but the people’s reaction puzzled him, that was a completely different story.
They heard what atrocities the boys were saying and yet nobody reacted, nobody told them to shut up. The image clashed with Monica’s socially healthy reaction from two days ago. Her immediate decision was to help a person who was in danger, she did not think of consequences, she reacted. A woman, alone, in a dark park. And what price she paid for her brave, righteous attitude. At the bar
there were many people hearing what the dumbasses were saying, they clearly hated it, it was obvious from their reaction once Rick decided to teach the twits a lesson, and yet nobody said anything. A dozen of people decided to ignore three tipsy assholes talking bullshit. His wife, even alone, had had enough of courage to face a dangerous mugger, who might have had a gun, who might have killed her. It was natural for her. What a sick world.
Rick finally realized he was in Central Park, passing not too far from South Meadow Tennis Courts. It was around 9:00 p.m. She was here two nights ago. This was exactly the same time and place that Monica was running on Monday. He felt his heart began beating faster as he was walking toward the tunnel where she got attacked. A part of him was afraid of facing that place, but he knew he had to do it, he had to see it.
