by Sue Julsen
“I thought you’d sneak out the second my back was turned, you sneaky little bitch! Get in there and EAT!”
“Janet, I’m sick. I need to go to the bathroom!”
“After you eat! NOW!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.
I went back to the table and stared at the plate, trying not to throw up. At least I knew why she’d fixed lunch. She wanted to make me suffer! Returning with me, she stood over me, glaring.
I forced a bite in my mouth, but when I did, I hurled in the plate.
Looking up at her, I yelled, “I couldn’t help it, Janet! I told you I’m sick!”
“You can just eat it anyway, little whore.” Her smile became so vindictive.
“But, it has puke in it!”
“That’s your problem, isn’t it? EAT IT!” she bellowed.
My stomach churned when I tried to force another bite. I puked again in the plate, then on the table, and finally on the floor. Her hand struck my cheek so hard it sent me tumbling out of the chair.
“Get to your room! I’ll think of a suitable punishment for you, little bitch!”
Pulling myself up from the floor, I ran to my room, and fell on my bed. Whatever punishment she came up with, I knew would be worse than anything she’d done so far.
I’d fallen asleep when awakened by excruciating pain across my back. Blow after blow, the pain echoed throughout my body. Rolling over, I tried to get off my bed, but I saw Janet glaring, with her hand raised over her head. Before I could move, she came down with another powerful blow across my stomach.
The pain was the worst I’d felt in my life!
The witch had wrapped a bar of soap in a towel and kept hitting me over and over, again and again.
Finally, appearing exhausted, she stormed out of my room, and I thought the punishment had ended. Crying, I held my stomach where she’d hit me so many times, whispering, “Daddy, where are you? I need you, Daddy. I need you. Please come back and save me.”
Still mumbling to myself, the door flew open, and Janet stood in the doorway holding a pillowcase. She jerked me off the bed, threw me across the room, and yelled, “Let’s see how you like this, little whore!”
Grabbing me, she threw me into my closet, then with the nastiest laugh I’d ever heard, she threw the pillowcase into the corner and slammed the door. I heard the scraping sound of a chair being pulled across the floor, and she pushed the back of the chair under the doorknob.
I was trapped, but I felt safe, and leaned back against the wall. After a long moment I felt something crawl across my leg.
I reached for the string to turn on the light, but it wasn’t there! Again, something slithered across my leg, then over my hand! Jerking my hand upwards, I screamed.
Cruel, sickening laughter came from outside the closet. Then, I heard a rattling sound again and again. I knew that sound….
Rattlesnakes!
Rattlesnakes were crawling over and around me!
Terrified, I forgot about being sick, ignored the pain from the beating, and hoped when this punishment ended, it would be enough reprimand. I remained motionless, and prayed for her to let me out before the snakes struck.
Somehow, probably from exhaustion, I’d fallen asleep, when finally, I heard the chair being removed. I held my breath as Janet slowly opened the door. I didn’t know where the snakes were, but prepared to bolt from the closet the moment the door opened just enough for me to get out, I waited.
But when the door opened wide enough, Janet stood blocking my exit to freedom! She raised her hand, and with her sadistic laugh, she shook the thing in her hand. Rattles! The fuckin’ bitch shook the rattles from a snake!
The punishment had all been a malicious deception, and the snakes in the closet were harmless! Still, I never had liked snakes, and now, I hated them—almost as much as I hated her.
“One of these days, bitch, we’ll have the last laugh. Just wait and see. One of these days,” Jean voiced heatedly inside my head.
My thoughts were interrupted as Janet grabbed my hair, pulled me out of the closet, and tossed me across the room like a rag doll.
“Get those clothes off, little whore!”
“Why?” I asked defiantly, still furious about the deception.
“Don’t give me any shit, little bitch! Get them off, NOW!”
I removed my thin dress.
“Those, too!” She pointed.
Pulling off my panties, I stood, naked, in front of the ugly, mean woman who definitely wasn’t through punishing me.
“Someday you’ll learn to do as I say. You have one last chance to eat that squash.” Her eyes glared down at me. “Are you gonna eat it, or not?”
“NOT! I’m NOT gonna eat it!” I screamed, not worried about whatever the next punishment would be. I wasn’t going to eat that mess of puke no matter what! Besides, what more could she do to me that she hadn’t already done?
“Have it your way, little whore.” She smirked, grabbed my hair, and pulled me through the house and into the yard.
“You’re gonna tie me to the tractor without my clothes on, aren’t you?”
“Not this time, little whore. This time you’ll regret ever defying me!” She tightened her grip on the back of my head as she pulled me around to the side of the house, and over to the ladder.
“Get up that ladder!”
I looked up to the top of the ladder, and thought, I’m not doing it! I’m not climbing that fuckin’ ladder!
With the swiftness of a gazelle, her hand came down with a powerful blow across my back. She had concealed her soap in the rag weapon inside her apron pocket! She told me she could beat me all she wanted with it, and no one would ever know, because all the bruising would be deep inside the tissues.
Again, she came down with another commanding blow, hitting the side of my head. My head spun like a top. I fell to the ground, dazed.
“Climb that ladder or I’ll give you more!” she screeched.
I picked myself up from the ground, my head still spinning. Holding on to the sides of the ladder, slowly, I put one foot on the bottom step.
“MOVE IT!” she screeched.
Startled, my foot slipped off the step, landing on top of her foot. “I didn’t do it on purpose!” I yelled, but she had her hand over her head and back down before I could react. The soap crashed down on top of my head.
When I regained consciousness I was in total darkness. I tried to stand, but the ground was scratchy and hard and it sloped downward. Sliding, I realized I wasn’t on the ground. She’d carried me up the ladder. I was on top of the house!
“I hate heights!” I screamed.
Sliding again, I dug my fingers into the roughness, stopping my downward descent. When the moon came from behind a cloud to light my way, I moved toward the edge of the house looking for the ladder, but it wasn’t there.
Then I saw it! On the ground. The bitch had put me on top of the house, then taken the ladder away!
“Janet!” I screamed. “Janet! Where are you? I can’t get down!” I waited for her to come out of the house, but she didn’t come.
“Janet! Please, get me down!” I yelled and yelled until my voice became only a scratchy sound that no one could hear. Crying, I sat on the coarse roof and waited. It got colder and colder, and the moon kept going behind the clouds leaving me in total darkness.
The first glimpse of daylight appeared, but still she didn’t come. The sun emerged, but it didn’t last long as it disappeared behind the growing number of clouds, and the temperature began to drop fast as the sky grew gloomy. Dark clouds now hung just above my head. Some appeared close enough to touch.
A soft rain began to fall, and again, I tried to yell, but no sound escaped my lips.
I felt so cold, and I was getting more and more scared. Why wouldn’t she come get me down? Why did she hate me so much? I’d never known anyone so cruel, so downright mean as Janet—the evil stepmother from hell.
The soft rain turned into a beating-down, pouring, hard rain.
Then the hail came. It started out pea-sized, but soon became the size of large marbles. Trying to cover my head with my hands, I cried.
It hurt so much.
Then darkness came again, and the hail stopped, but in its place, something worse. Thunder cracked and lightning flashed all around me! With each thunderous crack I’d jump, and with every burst of light I’d bury my head in my hands. Frightened, I thought, is the lightning going to hit me? Am I going to jump and fall off the roof?
“Please! Someone? Get me down!” I pleaded, but there was no one to hear my whispered cries.
Night turned to day and day to night again. Still, no one came.
The storm finally passed and the thunder and lightning were gone, but the roof was wet and slippery. My fingers were bleeding, and it took all my strength just to hang on. Day came again and then the cold, dark night. I needed sleep, but scared I’d slip off the slick roof, I fought the need for slumber and waited for daylight, and the warm sun.
I ached all over.
I sneezed again and again, and with each sneeze I’d slip closer to the edge of the roof, digging my bleeding fingers into the rough material. I held on with all my might, and for a brief moment I thought falling off might be a blessing. But I knew—with my luck—I wouldn’t die. I’d only be hurt and then Janet would hurt me even more.
Somehow, I had to hang on until someone came to save me….
The others had been taking turns with me, so I didn’t know how many days had passed when late in the afternoon a car pulled in front of the house. Hoping Daddy had come back early—or had it already been two weeks?—I peered over the side. A man got out, but I couldn’t tell if it was Daddy or not until he was halfway to the porch.
Then, I saw it was!
“Daddy!” I whispered. “Daddy, up here! Please hear me! Help me, Daddy!”
I tried to yell, but only a faint whisper came out. Slipping, I screamed, but no audible sound escaped. Still, he must’ve heard some noise because he looked up.
When he saw me, naked and scared, his jaw dropped. He stared, motionless for the longest time, and when he did speak, his voice carried an air of horrified shrillness.
“Sarah? What the hell? What are you doin’ up there?” He gulped, trying to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. “And with no clothes on!”
“Daddy, help me. Janet put me up here, then took it,” I whispered, pointing to the ladder lying on the ground.
Shaking his head, he put the ladder against the house and climbed up. “Come on, baby, I got you.” Picking me up, he carried me down the ladder, and once he had me on the ground, still frowning, he asked, “Why did Janet put you on top of the house?”
“I was sick…threw up in plate…refused to eat…hit me. Locked in closet… snakes…put on roof.” Between sobs and sneezes, I relayed, in pieces, what Janet had done to me.
“It sounds to me like you’re delirious, Sarah. Janet wouldn’t do that! But, shit! How did you get up there?” He shook his head, not knowing what to believe. “Come on, let’s get you inside and into bed.”
He saw Janet passed out on the couch, an empty bottle of bourbon next to her, when he carried me through the living room and into my room. Shivering, I sneezed over and over. He placed me on the bed and covered me with the blanket.
It felt so good to lie in my soft bed again, I instantly fell asleep.
When I awoke, Jimmy was crying. He howled at the top of his lungs, but he sounded far away. I wondered if he was in his crib, and also wondered where Janet was. And, Daddy? Where was he?
Stiffly, I rolled out of bed, knowing I had to go check on Jimmy. He cried a lot, but it wasn’t like him to scream. I went into the living room, turned on the lamp, and saw Janet, still sprawled out on the couch.
“Figures! Passed out, as usual.”
Still mumbling to myself, I went into the bedroom. Jimmy stopped crying when he saw me, and I looked around the room. Everything seemed to be in place, except for his bottle on the floor. I picked it up and started to give it to him, but the milk looked dark and thick.
“It’s spoiled!” I exclaimed. “When did Janet take care of him last?”
The moment I left the room, Jimmy started screaming again. Back in the living room, I turned on the other lamp, and looked around. “Damn! It’s a fuckin’ mess!”
Then, I vaguely remembered hearing Daddy yelling at Janet just before I fell asleep, and figured, by the way the room looked, they must’ve had one knock-down, drag-out fight. I sat down on the floor, dazed, when I heard a car out front.
Several minutes passed before the door opened and Daddy came into the room. He saw me sitting on the floor, and said, “Hurry up, Sarah, go pack your stuff. We have to get outta here, fast!” His voice was an octave higher than normal. “Hurry up, Sarah! I mean it! We have to leave, now!”
His voice sounded so desperate, I went into my room, threw the little bit of stuff I had in my little red suitcase, then went back into the living room. Daddy had been frantically tearing the place more apart than it already was.
I thought it so strange that Janet never moved.
“Come on, Sarah. Let’s go!” He pushed me toward the door. “And don’t touch anything! I hope I wiped our fingerprints off everything.”
“Daddy, what about Jimmy!?” I screamed. “The milk in his bottle is bad! I don’t know when Janet fed him.”
“I’ll give him a new bottle, but Sarah, I can’t be tied down with a damn baby! I can’t take care of him. Now, go! Get in the car. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Climbing into the back seat, I thought about poor little Jimmy, crying, and all alone. Daddy said he loved him. How could he just leave him? How could he not care? I could’ve taken care of him! I took care of him more than Janet ever did!
I cried while waiting for Daddy. I felt so sad.
It had just started to get light, and the early morning air still felt very cold. I pulled my blanket up around my neck, realizing how sore my fingers were from hanging on to the roof. My throat really hurt when I swallowed, and I still ached all over from the last beating.
I hurt from head to toe, and even though I felt extreme sadness about leaving Jimmy, I also felt relieved. I smiled as Daddy sped away from the house with the dirty white fence and the tractor in the yard.
“Where are we going, Daddy?”
“To California. My sister can take care of you for a while.”
Not wanting to ask questions, I sat quietly and tried to think about going to California, but I couldn’t get Daddy leaving Jimmy out of my head. I wondered if Janet would take all her anger out on him since she wouldn’t have me to beat on.
“Daddy, what’s gonna happen to Jimmy?”
“I don’t know, Sarah. Someone will take care of him.”
I didn’t know what he meant by someone would take care of him. Then I wondered if Daddy wasn’t taking me to his sister’s house so he could leave me, too. The thought of him leaving scared me. After several minutes passed I found the nerve to ask.
“Are you gonna leave me, Daddy?”
“Of course not, baby. You’re gonna stay with Molly just until I finish a job. Should only be a couple of weeks, then I’ll be back.”
He sounded sincere, and I didn’t really know why, but I didn’t believe him. In the back of my mind, I’d always known someday he’d leave me, just like he left all the women over the years. And Jimmy. I lay down and softly cried myself to sleep.
Daddy drove day and night, only stopping for gas, and spoke very little. It wasn’t until we crossed into California that he seemed to relax some, and said, “I’m gonna get a room for a few hours, Sarah. I need to get some sleep. I’m really tired.”
He turned on the TV in the room for me, then he fell across the bed and was asleep within moments. I sat in the chair watching some movie until I fell asleep.
We never spoke of Janet or Jimmy again, and he never asked any more questions about the things Janet had done to me, or about w
hat she did when he went out of town. I knew there were lots of things I wanted to tell him, but I didn’t want to make him mad, so I said nothing.
I still couldn’t shake the sadness about Jimmy, but I’d never been happier about Daddy leaving any woman than I was of him leaving Janet. I always hated her.
Jean whispered, “Since we’re not gonna tell Daddy what happened to us, I guess it’ll remain our fuckin’ secret, forever!”
“Aye, our bitter memories, Jeannie. Besides, we don’t want to hurt Daddy, eh?”
“No, Scottie. We don’t want to hurt Daddy.”
Fifteen
1958 – Lubbock, Texas
After a restless night, morning came too soon for Henry. He and Olivia had another big argument before he’d gone to bed. She wouldn’t believe Violet hadn’t been drinking, and claimed Violet had been driving everyone crazy with her constant re-enactment of the kidnapping.
“Mother’s having another spell, as Dad calls it,” Violet had relayed on last night’s call. “She woke up screaming again, saying Sarah’s dead. She’s hysterical, Henry. You’re the only one she’ll believe.”
After each spell, Henry had been able to convince his mother that Sarah was laughing and happy wherever she was, but last night, after he returned home from calming her, the argument with Olivia had gotten pretty nasty.
That had been the fifth call in two weeks, and Henry was in no mood for her negativity, but Olivia was more convinced than ever that Violet’s drinking was the cause of his mother’s spells, and that she was also driving Barbara to drink.
“Olivia, no one can drive Barbara to do anything she doesn’t want to do! Besides, by the time she stumbles into the damn house Violet’s already asleep. Stop picking on Violet!”
He thought that would shut her up, but when Olivia started making her ungodly faces, he’d lost his temper, and without thinking what he was saying, brought up sex.
“SEX, SEX, SEX! That’s all you think about!”
“Well, if you’d get laid once in a while, you wouldn’t be such a bitch!” he blurted out in comeback.
Henry had only seen Olivia cry twice in all the years he’d known her, but he’d pushed the limit when he called her a bitch. She’d stormed out of the room, bawling, and he’d gone to bed without apologizing—but thought, why should I apologize? After all, I only told the truth!
