Wall of Silence

by Dorey Whittaker

  Life in the Miller house never seemed to change. At eight, Susan knew the rules and had found her own little tricks for keeping out of harm’s way. Seventeen-year-old Lisa, however, suddenly began to ignore the rules. She would slip out their bedroom window as soon as they heard their parents’ bedroom door close for the night. Susan pleaded for her not to go, but Lisa was determined and seemed unconcerned about what their father would do if he found her gone. Lisa refused to tell Susan where she was going, saying, “The less you know, the better. If he comes in here, pretend you were asleep and didn’t know I left.”

  Susan knew this wouldn’t matter to their father. Lisa’s actions were putting her in danger because when their father was mad, he didn’t care who he hit. For months Lisa got away with sneaking out, but it took its toll on Susan. She would lie in bed waiting to get caught. Every time she heard her parents’ door open, she would shudder.

  One night around midnight, as Lisa was climbing back in the window, their mother caught her. Having heard a thump against the outside wall, Marjorie came in to see what was going on. As soon as she saw Lisa, she quickly closed the bedroom door so Chuck would not wake up. Furious Lisa would pull a stunt like this, she grabbed her by the hair, dragged her the rest of the way in the window, and shoved her down on the bed.

  In a menacing whisper, Marjorie threatened, “I’d like to kill you for pulling a stunt like this. Where have you been, and what have you been doing?”

  Susan watched in terror as her older sister took a defiant stand. Lisa had finally had enough and didn’t seem to care about the cost to them all for her newfound courage. Calmly, yet forcefully, she pushed her mother’s face out of hers as she rose to her feet. “Mother, you will never ever touch me again, you sniveling coward. You may be willing to let him keep beating you and us, but I’m not.”

  “And just how do you think you can stop him, might I ask?” Marjorie sneered.

  Almost spitting the words into her mother’s face, Lisa retorted, “I can do what you should have done.”

  Marjorie’s eyes blazed with hate. Only her fear of waking Chuck stopped her from landing a crushing blow into her daughter’s face. “I think you’d better remember who’s sleeping in the next room. I don’t know what you’ve been doing, or what you think you can do, but let me tell you something—he’ll kill you if you try anything.”

  “Let him!” Lisa screamed. “At least it would finally be over. You might have some sick need to live this way, but I don’t. I’d rather be dead than exist like this.”

  In desperation, Susan shouted, “Stop it, Lisa! You don’t mean that.”

  Turning her anger toward Susan, Lisa declared, “Oh, yes, I do. I’d do anything to keep from becoming like her. Susan, she’s as bad as he is. What kind of mother stands by and lets her husband beat her children half to death?”

  Desperate to calm her sister down, Susan tried to reason with her. “What do you expect her to do? Do you actually think she can stand up to him? Can’t you see she’s scared, too? She can’t do anything to him. He’s too mean!”

  “Susan, grow up, will you? She has never cared about us. Face it. All she cares about is protecting herself; it’s not our fault she married him. She could get rid of him if she really tried. I’m sick of this. The next time he hits me, I’m calling the cops.”

  Hearing this final threat, Marjorie flew into a rage. “Don’t you get it, Lisa? No one will ever stop your father. You’ll only make him madder. Don’t you think I’ve tried? I’ve called the cops, but no one would listen to me. They always thought it was my fault and that I probably had it coming. They would pull him outside, have a ‘good-ole-boys’ conversation, suggest your dad go sleep off the liquor, and then they’d leave. I tried it twice, and both times he came walking back into the house with a sick grin on his face. Those two beatings were the worst I ever got.”

  “I don’t care!” Lisa screamed. “I’m never going to allow either one of you to hit me again.”

  Suddenly they both realized how loud their voices had gotten. Courage or no courage, no one wanted Chuck getting into the middle of this.

  Marjorie quickly walked to the door and listened for any sign of movement from the next room. Once satisfied he had slept through their argument, she turned and hissed one last threat before going back to bed. “Lisa, you’d better think twice before you do anything. You’re not as smart as you think you are. Whatever you do, remember, at the end of it you’ll be in this house and so will he. If you’re messing around and get into trouble, he’ll not only kill you but the boy as well, for shaming him. Both you girls better learn right now that this world will not protect you. You have no rights. Those are only words you hear on television. Those people stir up problems and give you false hope. Then, when you need their help, they leave you alone for him to do whatever he wants. If you think that all men aren’t the same, you’re crazy. The sooner you learn that, the better.”

  Without even changing clothes, Lisa climbed into bed and stared at the ceiling. She was determined to find a way out of this house, and soon. Her only real problem was her little sister. “Susan, I’ve always tried to protect you. When mother tattled on you I always tried to step in and draw the attention off of you. It didn’t always work but I tried, but I can’t do it anymore. I know you don’t understand but maybe someday you will. Sis—just remember that I love you.”

  Susan knew that Lisa had taken several beatings as a result of her efforts and she loved her for it. Susan also knew her sister was planning to run and she couldn’t blame her. A few weeks later Lisa quietly slipped out the bedroom window as usual, only this time she didn’t come back.

  Chapter 3

  Sitting on the front porch, having this memory so vividly replayed, Susan began to cry as she remembered the desperate feeling of loneliness she had felt when Lisa ran away. Turning to her silent friend for comfort, she explained, “That was the first time in my life I felt totally unprotected. Until then I knew I could count on Lisa. It didn’t always keep me from getting a beating, but at least, after it was over, Lisa would be there to comfort me.”

  Ninety miles from her husband and feeling these raw emotions from her past, she was overcome by that same sense of loneliness. Susan quickly got up and moved to the far side of the porch, as if to escape the haunting feelings. “This is absurd. I can’t let the tension of this trial do this to me. After all, it was my idea to move down here.”

  Turning to the tree, as if needing to justify her reasons, she argued, “We didn’t know how long my sister’s murder trial would last, or how much I would be needed here. We—no, I—decided to rent this little two-bedroom house so the children and I could be close by during the trial. Besides, Lisa’s attorney needed me to fill in the family details. But most importantly, Lisa needed me.”

  Hearing the phone again, Susan ran back to the living room. As she brought the receiver to her ear, she heard her mother already spewing her viciousness, not even allowing Susan to respond. She wanted to hang up. Why couldn’t her mother leave her alone? She was tired of hearing her threats. As she continued her verbal assault, Susan knew her mother’s frustration did not stem from a fear of being put on the witness stand and being exposed as a horrid mother. Her mother had stopped caring what other people thought of her long ago. She was enraged that she found herself forced to do things she didn’t want to do, and she was determined her daughter was going to hear about it, again. “Susan, don’t you dare hang up on me! I want you to…”

  As her mother continued her tirade, Susan rested the receiver against her shoulder so her tantrum wasn’t funneled into her ear. While listening to this voice she associated with so much pain, Susan thought about the countless times she had made excuses for her mother’s behavior even to the point of defending her against Lisa’s verbal attacks. Susan had always felt that was the real reason her sister had finally run off without her, abandoning her to fend for herself. While her mother’s horrid voice pierced her soul, Susan’s thoughts ret
urned to those first few months without Lisa.

  ***

  At first things appeared fairly calm around the house, but that calmness was deceptive. Chuck seethed in anger, and the Atlanta police were frequently coming around asking questions and searching for clues about Lisa’s disappearance. Some of the neighbors had told the police about the constant fighting in the Miller house and that Chuck Miller should be thoroughly checked out. Some went so far as to suggest that perhaps Lisa hadn’t run away after all, that perhaps Chuck had gone too far this time and he’d buried her body somewhere. Because of the neighbors’ concerns, the police stopped by often and questioned all three of them. Each time the police left, Chuck would storm around the house, making all kinds of threats, but he knew he was being watched. He was forced to contain his temper. The police began passing out flyers with Lisa’s picture. After talking to Susan, they decided it would be wise to send some out to California also, just in case.

  One evening, after a harsh grilling by the police, Chuck was so livid he began smashing his fist into the bathroom wall. Susan sat trembling on her bed, listening and waiting. Sooner or later he was going to let loose, and it would be either her or her mother who would suffer the full fury of his rage. Susan and her mother kept out of sight as much as possible. Susan felt doubly vulnerable. She not only had to watch out for her father, she also had her mother to contend with. Marjorie’s hatred of Lisa for putting her in this dangerous position would surely find its way to Susan.

  It was a full two months before the dreaded phone call came. As usual, Chuck punched the loud speaker so he could pace back and forth to vent his anger. “Mr. Miller, this is the Atlanta Police Department. We received a call today from the Los Angeles Police Department. Apparently a girl matching Lisa’s description was picked up there for shoplifting; however, before they could process her, she walked out of the station and disappeared. The LAPD is sure it was your daughter, Mr. Miller. Even the name was a match. They don’t have an address, but they promised us they would pass the bulletin around and keep an eye out for her.”

  Hearing this conversation, Susan and Marjorie headed for the back of the house and took shelter. They both knew this was not going to be good.

  Chuck bellowed at the phone, “You guys can’t stand being wrong, can you? You were so sure I did it.”

  The voice on the other end ignored this response and continued, “We’re going to leave her missing-persons file open, but we can do nothing more as long as she’s in California.”

  Slamming the disconnect button on the phone, Chuck Miller began ranting, “I should go outside and rub this news into the faces of all you nosy neighbors. For two months your story-telling has made my life pure misery.”

  While grumbling about the lack of an apology from the police, his gaze landed on a ceramic bunny, a prize Lisa had won at a street carnival when she was little. He lifted it out of its place on the middle shelf of Marjorie’s curio cabinet. The gentleness with which he handled the bunny belied his intentions. He knew Lisa loved this stupid bunny. She had prattled on for days about winning it. Suddenly, he spun around and let it fly, smashing it into tiny pieces against the wall. “There! That felt good.” Seething with hatred, he muttered, “Too bad it wasn’t you, Lisa.”

  He hesitated only briefly to stare at his handiwork before quickly returning to the cabinet. This time he didn’t care whose objects of affection he smashed. With the crashing sounds of each new object, his heart beat a little faster. “You three don’t deserve any nice things. You’re more trouble to me than you’re worth.”

  Susan could hear her father thundering around the living room and sheer terror consumed her. She wanted to run from this nightmare, but she dared not open her door. If only she could fly to her safe refuge. If she could only be high in her tree, its branches would protect her from her father’s rage. She sat frozen, staring at the knob on her bedroom door, praying in silent desperation, Please don’t turn. Please don’t turn.

  As Chuck let the last item fly out of his hand, he grabbed hold of the cabinet itself. This was the one thing Marjorie had of her mother’s, which heightened Chuck Miller’s sick satisfaction for what he was about to do. Chuck tilted it until its own weight carried it the rest of the way, smashing all the glass panels as its mass crashed to the floor. He stopped for a moment to observe his destruction and felt a fleeting sense of satisfaction, but quickly the anger and restlessness returned. His hands itched with a burning sensation, and he felt the blood pounding through his arms. His rage had smoldered for weeks, and he was not a man to hold back his temper. This whole business had been causing him near physical pain. He was certain the police would leave him alone now because they wouldn’t want to admit they had been wrong. He knew they’d never apologize to him, so heading toward the back of the house, he started shouting, “Marjorie, get out here and fix me something to eat.”

  The dreaded moment had finally come. Susan and Marjorie both knew it. Susan’s heart began pounding so hard she placed her hands against her chest as if to keep it from pounding right out of her body. Finally, she heard the bang of her parents’ bedroom door against the adjoining wall and knew he had passed her room. Then, as she heard the first blows landing on her mother, Susan flew off her bed and ran for her closet. In one quick move she pulled the door closed and huddled in the back corner. Her heart pounded in her ears, mixing with the sounds of her father’s rage and her mother’s screams. Groping in the dark for something to help muffle these excruciating sounds, she grabbed her winter coat and placed it over her head and pressed her hands against her ears. But she could still hear the muffled screams coming from her parents’ room.

  Months of rage were now being vented on her mother. As the beating began, Susan heard her father scream, “It’s all your fault, Marjorie! If you had raised Lisa right, the police wouldn’t have humiliated me. Since Lisa isn’t here to get the beating she deserves, it’s only right that you get it.”

  Hearing her mother scream, Susan knew there was nothing she could do to stop her father. If she tried, he would turn on her. All she could do was cower there and hope he would quickly spend his rage and stop. She also knew she was far from safe. Even though it was her mother getting hit, it wouldn’t take much for him to switch his attention and anger to her. It was such a sick feeling to be glad someone else was getting such an awful beating. Huddled in that closet, waves of panic and nausea flooded her entire body. If only the sounds would stop!

  Suddenly she heard a loud crash from the front of the house—more violent crashing and men’s voices. Not daring to peek out to find where those other voices were coming from, she placed her ear against the closet door. Several men were shouting angrily, and the house shook. She could only guess, and hope, it was someone trying to control the situation. Susan heard her bedroom door open. Someone was walking around in her room. She crouched deeper into her corner. Footsteps were coming toward her. Then, ever so slowly, the door opened. Susan looked up to see a policeman staring down at her.

  Looking past him, Susan saw her father continuing to struggle with two police officers as they tried to pull him toward the front room. Not wanting to leave the closet, she wished the policeman would close the door and leave her alone. But that was not going to happen.

  The officer leaned down, extended his hand to Susan and said, “Honey, it’s safe now. You can come out.”

  The ambulance was coming for the mother and Office Bailey wanted Susan out of the house before it arrived. Leading her into the hall, he noted she barely turned her head to look at her mother before continuing on to the front of the house. He thought it strange that this child didn’t even ask about her mother. She merely went where he directed and quietly sat.

  Susan watched as the officer flagged the ambulance down and directed the crew toward her mother. She kept her head down but heard the officer say to the crew, “I’ve been a cop for years and have never been tempted to mistreat anyone. Tonight, however, looking into that little girl’s
eyes, I wanted to thrash her father.” His voice was shaking with rage and Susan felt a strange feeling of comfort from it as he described his encounter to the crew. “I actually had to push back tears as I looked at this precious little girl crouched in the back corner of her closet like a trapped animal, her beautiful blue eyes filled with absolute terror. Hell isn’t good enough for these men.”

  The ambulance crew gathered up their kit and headed in to check on Marjorie Miller. A second ambulance arrived moments later and the officer directed them inside. Entering the bedroom, the second crew leader asked, “You boys need any help?”

  The lead attendant didn’t even look up. He was feverishly trying to get a pulse but so far to no avail. His partner, who was busy organizing all kinds of medical equipment, responded, “She’s critical. We’ll be surprised if she even makes it to the hospital alive.”

  Another attendant said, “Why don’t we at least help you get her onto a safety board before we move on to another call?”

  Grateful for the help, the three closest attendants took their positions supporting her head, neck, and back. Only after rolling her over did they get their first good look at her face. The youngest attendant grimaced, “Can you believe a man could do this much damage to a woman? He must be some kind of animal.”

  The others just shook their heads. Unable to determine how many bones were broken, they were being as gentle as possible while preparing Marjorie for transport to the emergency room at the county hospital. Before bringing her to the ambulance, one attendant suggested, “Would someone make sure that the little kid is taken outside? She doesn’t need to see this.”

  Nodding in agreement, one attendant went into the living room, took Susan’s hand, and guided her out to the front porch. As soon as they came through the front door, Mrs. Reiner, the next door neighbor, came up to Susan, gently wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, and asked if she could take Susan to her house while they investigated.