At Daddy’s Hands

by Jacob Paul Patchen

  Ashley just smiled, even though she tried to tell them every day how much she truly loved them, she wasn’t sure if her kids were aware of what they actually meant to her. She loved this time together. She had been clean of her addictions for the last four years. At first, she hated herself for all the time lost with her children. But, as they healed together, they had all grown so close to one another. Ashley thanked Mike, Mrs. V. and God every day for that.

  Nikki, out of breath, carried Jessa Marie up to the table.

  “Ewww, Tyler, those look burnt. You should have let a pro handle the grill,” she teased.

  “Well, that’s ok, I’ll just eat yours then,” he jabbed back.

  She laughed and placed Jessa Marie in her booster seat.

  “Wellll, okay, now that you mention it, there might be one steak that isn’t burnt. Dibs.”

  Ally and Brian brought the chickens over and placed them in the middle of the table. Ally stepped back and looked at all the food and people on her back patio.

  “Wow,” she said to Brian, “we’re pretty lucky, aren’t we?”

  He grabbed her hand and kissed her on the forehead.

  “Yes, we are, sweetheart. But everyone knows that I’m the luckiest. Just look how beautiful you are. Look at our beautiful child. I couldn’t ask for anything else in this world.”

  He squeezed her hand and winked. Ally smiled back. Six years together and he still gave her goosebumps. He still loved her, despite her flaws, despite her past, despite her scars; He still loved her, and she thanked God every night.

  “Nikki, you wanna say grace?” Ally asked.

  “Sure. Let’s hold hands.”

  Everyone circled the table and held each other’s hands.

  “Lord, thank you for this food that we’re are about to eat, even if Tyler did burn it, please let it still taste good.” She paused for the soft laughter. Her mother squeezed her hand, scolding her.

  She continued. “Thank you for bringing us all together on this beautiful day to celebrate our freedom, and to give thanks for the blessings in our lives. Lord, we are absolutely blessed, and we thank you for your continued grace. In Jesus’ name, we pray, amen.”

  Ashley squeezed her hand again, but this time, it was to say, “I love you.”

  “Let’s do this,” Tyler said reaching for a plate.

  “Wait!” Ashley threw her arm in front of Tyler. “I think we should go around the table and say what freedom means to us. What do you all think?”

  “Aww, Mooom, c’mon!” Tyler groaned.

  “I think that’s a fantastic idea,” Mrs. V. chimed in.

  “Mom, seriously?” Ally protested.

  “It’ll be fun, come on,” Ashley insisted. “I’ll start.’

  “Ok, fiiine,” Tyler groaned.

  Ashley looked around the table at her family and friends. She looked at the food, the beautiful yard full of toys, chairs, and happiness, and then at Ally’s gorgeous house. She looked at the wooded hills and the birds circling above them. She looked at Ally, Nikki, and Tyler, and smiled.

  “To me, this is freedom. Having the ability to stand here with you all, not high, not drunk, not bruised, or in fear. To laugh with you all, to eat, and share our stories. To me, freedom is as simple as loving your life. Which I most certainly do, now.”

  She dabbed at the tears building in her eyes with a napkin. Nikki, Ally, and Tyler all moved in to give their mother a group hug. They embraced each other, sobbing, squeezing each other tightly, loving each other more than they ever had. With a deep breath, they broke apart.

  “Alrighty, then,” Nikki said, wiping her face and laughing, slightly embarrassed. “Who else wants to make us cry, today? Mike? Mrs. V.? Brian? Anyone? I’m going to need another napkin.”

  They all smiled and laughed. All were warm with love under the summer sun.

  Mike spoke up next.

  “Freedom. What a big word.” He bit his lip with thought. “Well, when I think of freedom, I think of all those abused and beaten kids who come to my residential facility. I think about how broken they are. How much hate they are filled with. And I watch them heal over the weeks, the months, the years. I watch them grow, and just like all of you, I watch them learn how to love again. Then, I watch them take that final walk out of the center’s front door, turning around to smile and wave one last time,” He squinted in thought, “and I think,” his eyes shifted to the table, “no, I know… that that is what freedom is.”

  With his voice shaking at the end, he took a slow drink from his glass of tea. Mrs. V. rubbed his back and gave him a hug. His wife rubbed his hand and kissed his cheek. Everyone was smiling, everyone had goosebumps.

  Mike lifted his glasses and squeezed the bridge of his nose, wiping away a couple of tears. “I nominate you, next,” he grinned at Mrs. V.

  “Oh, good gracious. How am I supposed to compete with you two?” She choked out over tears.

  “Alright. Alright. Freedom. Well for, starters, freedom is our ability to live without fear and hate. Freedom from oppression, from racism, tyranny, slavery, corruption, and evil. But, personally, when I think of freedom, I think of my husband defending our freedoms. I think of the service men and women who volunteer to go to war, to fight to keep our nation free. I think of my students’ faces, the ones who chose to enlist and serve their nation. I think of their sacrifices, them giving their lives or limbs, or mental stability so that I can live my life in peace and free will. When I think of freedom, I think of those sixth-grade faces that sat in my class making jokes and interruptions about sports, or girls, or each other… and I wonder if their mothers and fathers are as proud as I am to have had the opportunity to have had them in my life.”

  Everyone nodded their heads in agreement. Many were sniffling, some crying, and other’s fighting to hold back tears.

  “Well, freedom, to me,” Tyler started, “is when I release from the line of scrimmage, and the defensive back whiffs while trying to get his hands on me, and away I go down the sideline for an easy touchdown. Yeah. Freedom.”

  He took a large gulp from his beer can and started to laugh along with the others. Ashley threw her fork at him, smiling, and the laughter erupted louder.

  “Okay, okay. Freedom is… it’s having a choice… the choice to do what you want to do, whenever you want to do it. I can go to class, or I can stay in and drink. I can play football, or I can join a chess club. I can date who I want, marry who I want, be who I want. I am free to choose what I want to choose. And for me, the best part about freedom is that I don’t have to worry about messing up and making my father mad enough to beat me.”

  His comment hit Ashley hard, and she swallowed back the rage that Jim had left inside of her. Instead, she forced a smile, winked at Tyler, and mouthed “thank you” to him from across the table.

  “Ally?” Tyler raised his brows grinning.

  “Fiiine.”

  She adjusted her blouse, nervously.

  “You all know that I’m not any good at this public speaking thing. So, I’m just warning you…”

  She took a drink from her bottle of water.

  “Ok. What does freedom mean to me? Well, besides what everyone else has already said, I think freedom stands for hope. I mean, having the ability to dream, to wish, to hope for something that you want, is freedom. Being able to chase your dreams, is freedom. I think that freedom is more about how we perceive things rather than what we are able to have. What I mean is… being free of mind. Free to let your mind wander without dangerous thoughts creeping in. Free to believe in hope without stressing over who will hate you for it. Freedom is a clear and open mind. One that does not want to harm its
elf. One that has confidence, love, and happiness. That’s freedom… the ability to love others while still loving yourself.”

  Her eyes dropped, and she realized that she was rubbing her hand over the scars on her wrists and forearms. She sucked in a big breath of warm summer air. It smelled of seasoned food and honeysuckle. She shook her head, shaking away the thoughts of who she used to be, of a time when she wanted to hurt herself. But now it all seemed so distant, almost as though it wasn’t even her. She felt new, reborn, loved. She felt alive, and she would do anything to keep it that way.

  Ashley kissed her on the cheek and hugged her. Brian rubbed her back and squeezed her shoulder. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it softly.

  “I love you. I love you so much,” he whispered.

  “Not as much as I love you,” she whispered back, rubbing his hand with her thumb.

  She looked over at Nikki. “Nik? Wanna hit us with the good stuff? Maybe a poem about freedom, or maybe a passage from one of mom’s new books?” She playfully pushed her “little” sister, who was now taller than her. “You and mom are so much alike, it’s not even funny. How can one family have two amazing writers, thinkers, poets? And here, all I got were the looks.” She laughed and stuck out her tongue.

  Nikki stuck hers out, too, and threw a carrot at her big sister.

  “Hey, now!” Ashley scorned. “Those are good carrots, don’t waste them.” She cocked her head and shook her finger at Nikki, then grinned.

  “Okay, well… I’ll hurry this along so we can eat Tyler’s burnt burgers.” She quipped one last time.

  “Freeeedooom! You know, like Braveheart?” She laughed. “It’s…” She shifted her weight, picked up her plastic knife, and ran her thumb along the serrations while she thought. “Freedom is being able to sleep peacefully, at night. It’s sharing yourself with your family, completely, without secrets, without ill intent. It’s being able to go into your sister’s room and listen to her music, without her trying to push you down the stairs.”

  They all chuckled and looked at Ally, who was slightly embarrassed for the way she used to be overly dramatic and mean to her sister.

  “But seriously, being free, in your own home, from pain, abuse, sexual assault… being free to play, or sing, or dance, without looking over your shoulder, without wondering when the next time your father was going to… assault you. That’s freedom. Taking your life in your own hands, standing up to evil, to the wrong, and for the things that you believe in. That is freedom. Having the courage to say No! Having the courage to say Enough! Having the courage to fight back, to stand up for yourself, to know what is right and wrong. That’s freedom.”

  She paused and looked around the table.

  “Having the choice of who enters your body. That’s freedom.”

  . . . . .

  Tyler was throwing the football in the yard with Brian, while Ashley, Mike, and Mrs. V. helped clean up the patio. Most of their guests had gone home.

  The sun was fading in the orange sky. In the distance, freedom lovers were already setting off booms from fireworks. The woods had just started to chirp, and the frogs in the pond were talking over each other. It was a beautiful summer evening, and the Handlers all felt it.

  Nikki sat under the oak tree with Ally while Jessa Marie chased lighting bugs.

  “You think you’ll have any more kids?” Nikki asked.

  “Umm, I don’t know. If Brian has anything to do with it, which I hope he does, then we will have a million more,” she laughed and winked at her sister who responded with an “Ewww.”

  Ally brushed her dark hair from her face and looked out toward the edge of the woods, toward the pond.

  “But I think I’d like to just enjoy the three of us, for now. I don’t know… maybe in a few years.”

  Nikki smiled and watched her older sister stare off into the orange sunset.

  “But then they will be the same age difference as you and me. Do you really want them to go through the same sibling stuff that we did? I mean, you pretty much hated me for years, because I was way smarter than you. Obviously.”

  Nikki pushed Ally, and they giggled.

  “Let’s just hope that Jessa Marie isn’t forced to listen to Baby Questionmark’s poetry. They’ll probably get along just fine, if not.”

  She picked a dandelion and threw it in Nikki’s face. Nikki picked a handful of grass and threw it at Ally.

  “Uh. Rude!”

  They started to wrestle around on the ground giggling like they were little girls, again, but with different childhoods, happier childhoods. With three years of self-defense classes under her belt, encouraged by Brian, Ally was quick to pin Nikki on her back.

  She straddled her, pinning Nikki’s arms under her legs.

  “Who’s your favorite sister? Who’s your favorite sister? Say it. Come on, say it.”

  Ally let her hanging dark hair tickle across Nikki’s face.

  “I’m not saying it! I won’t do it!” Nikki shouted, trying to shake her head away from Ally’s hair.

  “Say it! Say, Ally’s my favorite sister!”

  “No! Never!”

  Ally tickled and poked at her ribs until she twisted and giggled loudly.

  “Saaay, Ally’s my favorite sister because she’s prettier, smarter, stronger, and better at everything than me.”

  “I won’t do it. I won’t… I won’t lieee!”

  Ashley, Tyler, and Brian stopped to watch them both wrestle and play together.

  “Better say it!” Tyler yelled cupping his mouth with one hand, holding the football with the other.

  Nikki lifted her head and realized that they had an audience watching them and smiling. She couldn’t let her sister win. She tried to twist and kick her way out from under Ally.

  But, Ally had her locked down tight, and Nikki knew it. She growled in frustration, causing Shooter’s ears to perk up, run over to them and soak Nikki’s face with doggie-kisses.

  “Okay! Okay! I give!”

  Ally laughed and shewed Shooter away. He trotted over to his bowl of water and lapped it up. Ally’s smug look frustrated Nikki.

  “You gonna say it?” Ally smiled.

  Nikki accepted that she had lost. Defeated, she went limp, rolled her eyes and grinned. Then, in her deep, annoyed, I-don’t-care voice Nikki gave in, “Ally’s my favorite sister because she’s prettier, smarter, and… fatter than me!”

  “Ugh! You little brat!” Ally started to tickle Nikki’s ribs again.

  “No! No! Stop! I give! I give!” Nikki rolled in laughter. “You’re the best! The prettiest, smartest, strongest, better-at-everything-est sister in the whole wide world!”

  Still, on top of her, Ally pressed for more.

  “Annd?”

  “Uhhh… aaand… you’re not fat?” Nikki questioned.

  Ally tickled her harder.

  “You win! You win! And… I… love you! I love you! Come ooon, I love youuu!” Nikki was in full retreat, full red-faced laughter.

  “Alright. Well, that’s all you had to say. And I love you, too, you little shit.”

  Ally stood up and stuck her hand out to Nikki, who swatted it away.

  “I didn’t mean it! I had my fingers crossed!” Nikki teased.

  “That’s okay,” Ally said helping her up and looking around, “I have tons of witnesses.”

  Jessa Marie stopped chasing fireflies and ran back over to Ally.

  “Momma. Swing? Push me on the swing?” she asked with her arms extended.

  Ally reached down, picked up her little dark-haired ang
el and gently placed her in the tire swing hanging from the oak branch.

  Ally looked back at Nikki and grinned.

  “Come help me push your niece.”

  Then, together, into a firefly-filled yard and a melting, orange evening, Ally and Nikki pushed sweet, smiling Jessa Marie back and forth into the thick, honeysuckle air. Tyler, Ashley, Mike, Brian, and Mrs. V., all with adoring smiles, watched on with enduring love as Jessa Marie reached her little hand out towards the light of a bright, burning bug and warm, glowing sky.

  Real Stories from Survivors

  I reached out to my friends, fans, and local communities and asked if anyone would like to share their stories of abuse, advice for those who are being abused, or words about courage. I was amazed at the response I received. For many, they have been silenced by fear, shame, guilt, embarrassment, or hopelessness. I felt that they all deserved an opportunity to have a voice, a chance to be heard.

  These are their stories. This is their voice.

  When I was six, I was sexually molested and mentally abused by a teenage girl who lived next door. Her name was Melissa.

  Melissa was an only child who lived with her mother and stepfather, and she had a long history of acting out, problems with authority, and was subject to screaming fits when she didn’t get what she wanted. She was fourteen I think when I met her.

  Melissa knew how to manipulate adults, gaining their confidence with platitudes and kindness. My mother never liked her, she always felt something was ‘off’ with the family.

  It wasn’t long before Melissa took my first French kiss by force, nearly asphyxiating me in the process. She then slapped me repeatedly and told me I was disgusting.

  I was so shocked and bewildered, I had no idea what was happening. When I tried to get away, she pulled my long hair around her fist and yanked my head backward. She told me if I told anyone she would come after my little sister who hadn’t even turned one yet.

  “I know you don’t lock your doors, I can walk right in in the middle of the night, and you will never see her again. Don’t fuck with me.”