At Daddy’s Hands

by Jacob Paul Patchen

  She brushed the hair from her mid-thirties, aging and lining face, and flipped over Jake’s story about courage into the “already read” pile. She looked at the neat and tiny name at the top of the next paper: Nikki Handler. Mrs. V. let out a soft chuckle at how often Nikki would stay after class just to chat about her day, or lesson, or what her father had bought her that week; anything at all just to spend some time with her favorite teacher.

  As the rumble of the last bus leaving faded away down the street, Mrs. V. began to read Nikki’s paper. Still grinning about Nikki’s quick wit and jokes, she read through the first few lines quickly. However, her grin soon turned to confusion and then concern as she read deeper into her story. She dropped her grading pen and picked Nikki’s paper up off the desk for a closer look. Mrs. V. read her story about sexual abuse twice before letting the paper fall back to her desk. She removed her glasses and rubbed at her aching head. Her eyes darted around the room searching for answers.

  Then, all at once, everything began to make sense: why Nikki was so excited to be at school, why she would stay after class just to talk with Mrs. V., how some days she seemed weaker than others, sick, cold, clouded… defeated. Mrs. V. sucked in the suddenly cold and shaky air and raised her trembling hand to her gaping mouth. In one furious raging wave of reality, she was overcome with tears.

  That next morning, Mrs. V. didn’t greet Nikki with a smile, but with a hug instead. Her soft brown eyes were full of compassion as she asked Nikki to stay and eat lunch in class with her.

  “Are you serious?” Nikki’s excitement was hardly contained.

  “Well, sure. Why not? I’d love to hear more about your week. You know, the usual… about how you and Trisha are doing, about your brother and sister, how your mom’s doing… and your dad.”

  Standing in front of her teacher’s desk still holding onto her books, Nikki let her eyes drop to the floor. She could sense that something was different this time. She could feel the softness, the pity, and the worry in Mrs. V.’s voice. For a moment, she was overwhelmed with fear. For a moment, her legs nearly let go of her. It was her mind that was most active, and her thoughts ran wild at the sound of just two words: your dad.

  My dad? Why? We don’t talk about him any other time. What do I say? Should I tell her the truth? Can I tell her the truth? What will she think? What will she say? What will happen? Will I be in trouble? Will she hate me? Oh God, I don’t want her to hate me.

  Mrs. V. absorbed her body language. Nikki’s scrunched brows and slightly moving lips standing in front of her desk. Her eyes shifting to the ground and biting at her lip. Nikki had a range of emotions playing out, vividly, across her face, like one of those old silent films that Mrs. V.’s grandmother had projected onto the wall after passing around homemade popcorn to a living room full of excited grandkids. It was Nikki’s face that sounded the alarm, for Nikki wore her feelings loudly, like her favorite pair of Chuck Taylor’s.

  “Everything alright?

  There was a long, silent pause before Nikki answered.

  “Yeah…”

  “Everything?” Mrs. V. pressed.

  Nikki gazed out the window at the leaves starting to change. The reds, yellows, and oranges mixed with the pale greens. She watched them flutter in the light October breeze, shake free, and float down softly to the browning grass.

  “How are things at home, Nikki? How are things with your father?”

  Nikki’s lip began to quiver. Her mouth started to water. Her body was letting loose. Her eyes darted away from Mrs. V. and toward the filing cabinet decorated with a rainbow of sticky notes. They formed a collage of each student’s favorite new word: abundant, immense, superior, anxious, treacherous, fortitude… courageous.

  Nikki’s mind was a foray of thoughts. What do I say? What do I say?!

  Mrs. V. was struggling herself. All she wanted to do was take this beautiful little girl into her arms, hold her, and tell her that everything was going to be okay.

  She could feel her body start to shake as she set Nikki’s story in front of her.

  Nikki looked down at it. It wasn’t hard to miss. At the top, in big, bold, red letters was the word COURAGE.

  She finally looked at Mrs. V., hoping that it would help her words to be more convincing.

  “Fine. It’s… everything is… everything… is… not fine!”

  Nikki could feel a warm rush and tingle in the back of her throat. She tried to swallow them down, to hold them in, but she couldn’t, her emotions had been building for far too long, and they were ready to erupt.

  Her books slipped from her weakening hands and crashed to the floor. And just as sudden, just as violent, and just as loud, her tears burst free from deep inside of her. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed into them. Mrs. V., suddenly crying too, rushed around her desk and took Nikki into her arms, wrapping her in warmth, in safety, and in love.

  “Oh, Nikki! I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry!” She cried.

  They held each other, sobbing together until they were exhausted. Then, Nikki told her everything. Nikki explained how her father has been abusing her mother, about his raging and painful temper, about how her sister seemed to hate her, and that her mother was always sad, high or drunk whenever Nikki needed her.

  And to the horror of Mrs. V.’s worst imagined nightmares, Nikki described how her father forced her to touch him while everyone was sleeping.

  After the tears had settled and Mrs. V. vowed to keep Nikki safe, they both lumbered through the hallway, toward the administrative office. She had convinced Nikki that she should talk with Mike and tell him everything that she had just told Mrs. V. As they walked past the decorated lockers, a tradition of the Jr. High football cheerleaders, Nikki read the bold words on their handmade signs, Courage. Strength. Victory. Blurring closer and closer to that black and white OFFICE sign sticking out over the top of the entrance, Nikki could feel the courage fleeing from her twisting stomach.

  She reached up and grabbed Mrs. V’s hand. Startled, Mrs. V. glanced down quickly to see Nikki’s blue eyes staring up at her. She offered a warm smile and gently squeezed her hand.

  “It’ll be alright, Nikki. I promise.”

  Nikki’s loud breathing was drowned out by the lunchroom noise as they approached the office. They stopped outside of the big glass door that led into the central office which housed several administrative offices, a supply room, and the copy machine that Mrs. V. sometimes sent Nikki to use for class assignments.

  “Will you come in with me?” Nikki asked.

  Mrs. V. thought for a moment about her lunch and class schedule.

  “Of course I will.”

  “Will you sit beside me while I talk to him?”

  “Honey, I don’t know if I’m allowed to stay in there or not. It might be against school policy.”

  “Please?” Nikki’s begging practically broke Mrs. V.’s heart.

  “I tell you what, I promise to do everything that I am able to do. How does that sound?”

  “Do you swear?”

  “I swear.”

  “Pinky swear?” Nikki let out a soft chuckle.

  Mrs. V. smiled, “Pinky swear.”

  She held open the door for Nikki and motioned to the secretary that they were heading to the back offices.

  Standing outside Mike’s closed door, Nikki grabbed her hand again. Mrs. V. pat it softly.

  “I’m right here. Be brave. Be courageous. Be you.”

  Nikki bit her lip in thought, and with one deep breath, she reached out and knocked loudly on Mike’s door.

  . . . . .

  Mrs. V. had been in Mike’s office for nea
rly five minutes when they both finally opened the door and invited Nikki inside to discuss the story she wrote and the horrors that she unveiled to Mrs. V.

  Ashley had arrived in a confused panic. She was sitting at home sipping wine and reading one of her books about beach love stories, which she desperately wished would become a reality for her, when the school called and advised her that she needed to come in right away because of Nikki. As she greeted Mike, he informed her that Nikki had some trouble at home and they would all like to discuss it. Now, sitting in the corner opposite of Mrs. V., her gut nearly came undone at the thought of what that “trouble” could be.

  Nikki sat in Mike’s purple chair as he listened patiently, compassionately, and empathetically to her story about Haley, knowing all along that her story was a way for her to reach out for help. So, he tread lightly, gently, doing his best to encourage her along the way. At first, she was scared. She only read him the story she wrote about Haley and hoped that he would see right through it. With a little encouragement, she admitted that the story was about her, not Haley. Then, like she opened up to Mrs. V., she opened up to Mike and told him what her father had done to her and her mother. She only hesitated at the most difficult parts, when Mike would ask about the details, those sharp, rusty, jagged details that would rip open an old wound each time.

  Mike had sat at his desk with his hands folded, scowling at the ugliest parts and holding back his own emotions when Nikki would tear up. He had been taught to listen objectively, to set aside his own agendas, his own skeletons, his own biases, and to read his client’s body language, to hear the tone in their voice, to seek out the truth. He had learned over the years what types of questions to ask and what sort of advice to give. But even after all of his experience as a therapist, it had never become routine, it had never become less appalling while listening to another sexual assault victim reveal to him their horrors and agony. Quite frankly, it enraged him. It lit his soul on fire, made his palms sweat, his teeth grit, and his muscles flex. He wanted nothing more than to save these children, to rescue them from the torments of their demons. He wanted to be their hero, and some days he was. But the truth was, Mike always felt like his hands were tied, that policy kept him from doing his best work. He felt that the system was flawed, and he spent the second half of his career, trying to change it.

  Now, more than ever, Mike yearned to make a difference. He ached to wipe Nikki’s pain away as he watched her sorry eyes cry and try to explain the abominations that were going on in her home.

  But, Nikki was brave. Nikki was a warrior, a fighter, a survivor; and Mike soon realized that she was even stronger than he could ever be.

  “Nikki, you’ve been so courageous, today. I want you to know that. It takes real courage to talk about the things we just did. Thank you for being so brave.”

  Nikki wiped a slow tear from her cheek with a tissue that Mike had offered her.

  “I just want it to end. I want it all to be over. I just want my daddy to love me.”

  That comment shot an arrow straight through Mike’s heart. He swallowed down the emotions, but his eyes were beginning to wet.

  Ashley just shook her head in disbelief and anger. Her right hand was wrapped around a wadded tissue, which she realized she was squeezing into a fist as her left hand wiped at the tears rolling down her face. She didn’t utter a word. It was too late for talk. No matter how hard she tried to shake it, she could only blame herself. How could I have let this happen? What kind of mother am I? Maybe the kids would be better off without me?

  Mrs. V. was sobbing in the corner, quietly. She offered as much of a smile as she could muster when Nikki turned to look at her.

  “Thanks for staying with me, it really helped to have you here.”

  Mrs. V. nodded, “Oh, Nikki…”

  There was a pause, a moment of awkward silence, a moment for them all to digest the sour details and to figure out what to do next.

  Mike leaned back in his rolling chair and rubbed at his chin.

  “By law, I have to contact the police.”

  “The police?” Nikki’s fear was obvious.

  “I know, given the circumstances of who your father is and what he’s done for this town, I know that it won’t be easy, but we must get them involved. That’s how these things are handled. That’s the way to justice.”

  Nikki looked back at Mrs. V. who gave an affirming nod. Then to her mother, who was still wiping tears away. When Ashley saw her daughter’s puffy blue eyes, she knew that she had to hold her. Ashley jutted up from her chair, rushed her daughter, picked her up and held her tightly while they shared lasting tears.

  After a short while, Mike shifted forward in his chair. “Nikki, I’ll be right here with you the whole time. It’ll be alright. We’re all here for you, to help you, to support you, and to protect you. I promise.”

  In the jittery thirty minutes it took for the two police officers to arrive, Mrs. V. had returned to class, but not before hugging Nikki and whispering how proud she was of her and her bravery. Nikki sat with Mike working on a crossword puzzle in the local newspaper. Ashley sat rubbing her back for a while, trying to comfort her as best she could. She had excused herself to the lady’s room to cry alone when finally, the police arrived.

  “Good afternoon, Mike.” Officer Barnes shook Mike’s hand.

  Officer Swine merely lifted his chin in Mike’s direction before taking out his notepad and pen.

  “So, what seems to be the problem here?” Officer Barnes asked.

  Mike’s eyes shifted towards Nikki.

  “Hey, aren’t you Jim’s daughter?” Officer Swine asked Nikki.

  Surprised by his recognition, Nikki hesitated.

  “Yes. Yes, sir, I am.”

  Officer Swine tapped Officer Barnes on the shoulder and laughed.

  “Hey, you remember that one time when Jim brought in those drunks who were fighting in the Sheetz parking lot? Remember when the one dark fella tried to run out the front door, handcuffed and all? And Jim jumped his desk, ran him down, and dragged him back in all bloody and cursing?”

  Officer Barnes laughed out loud. “Honey, your father is a legend around here.” He shifted his duty belt, and a clear reminiscing smile spread across his face. Mike cleared his throat and brought both officers back to business.

  “So, what happened? Was there a fight?” Officer Barnes quickly looked her over with his flashlight for any marks or blood.

  Officer Swine stood by studying Nikki’s sad and scared face.

  “Are you getting bullied? Is that what this is about? Dispatch said something about an assault?” He leaned down to meet her eye level. “I don’t stand for any kind of bullying. I was bullied in school, too. I ended up having to fight back just to get him to leave me alone. It’s ok. Tell me what happened.”

  Mike shifted uncomfortably standing by his desk. He knew that this would not be easy. He knew what kind of status Mr. Handler has in the community. But he was also certain that this was the right thing to do. He was determined to save this little girl, regardless of what anyone else thought about her father.

  “Well, we need to report a crime. A… domestic assault... a… sexual assault.” Mike’s tone slapped the smile from the officer’s face.

  “Sexual assault? At home?” Officer Barnes asked Nikki who slowly shook her head up and down.

  “By who? You’re brother? One of his friends?” Officer Swine’s tone was the least bit empathetic, but rather, confrontational.

  “Her father,” Mike interjected.

  Officer Swine chuckled in disbelief.

  “Jim? Get out of here. Jim Handler? No way?”

  Officer Barnes shot Officer Sw
ine a look that made him snap back to professionalism.

  Officer Barnes leaned down to her level, closer and softer this time.

  “Dear, you–”

  “My name… is Nikki,” she said firmly.

  Taken aback, Officer Barnes raised his hat and studied Nikki’s face.

  “Sorry. Nikki, you do know it’s against the law to make false reports, right?”

  This made Nikki’s jaw drop. Her eyes filled with anger as she glanced up at Mike who was leaning against his desk. Mike crossed his arms and puffed out his chest, a thing he catches himself doing when trying to look authoritative.

  “Look, Officer Barnes, this is a serious matter which requires your serious professionalism and attention. Can we please get on with it?”

  Officer Barnes and Officer Swine looked at each other and then at Mike.

  “My apologies, Mike. Needless to say, I’m a little caught off guard, here. Could you please give us just a minute?” Officer Barnes asked.

  “Uh. Okay. Take your time, gentlemen,” Mike said sarcastically as he offered Nikki a peppermint lifesaver from the secret stash in his top desk drawer. She took it and rolled her eye in the officers’ general direction as they exited Mike’s office and stepped into the other room.

  Officer Swine looked around to make sure no one could hear him.

  “Look, Ronnie, I don’t know about this, it just doesn’t add up,” he said, crossing his arms.

  “Yeah, I don’t like it either, Nick. But we have to do our jobs. We need to file a report. There’s no trying to sweep this thing under the rug. You understand?”

  Officer Swine removed his hat and rubbed at his forehead.

  “Well, what if we call Jim down here? Maybe her story will change in front of him.”