Warning: Contains graphic content & adult themes.
“Do you swear to tell the truth…”
The dog belonged to one of my best friends. About ten of us slept over at her house for her birthday. We braided each other’s hair, stayed up late playing Truth or Dare…
“The whole truth…”
We were playing outside and the dog jumped on me. His paw brushed down my chest and his claw caught and left a deep scratch…
“And nothing but the truth…”
My friend’s mother cleaned the scratch and declared that I would live. I wasn’t sure I believed her, but once the pain subsided I was more upset that the dog messed up my French braid…
“So help you God?”
I do.
“Your Honor, Defense has already addressed the history of this witness and does not see the purpose of this questioning.”
“Your Honor, this witness is necessary to show the history of the Defendant and that the charges brought against him in this court are the latest in a habitual tendency towards abuse.”
“Prosecution, please proceed.”
My heart pounded until I thought it might burst from my chest. Dad, the scratch is fine. There’s not even a scar now. His fingers ran down the place the scratch had been and was now barely discernible. He examined it. He examined all around it. When I finally put my shirt back on and walked away, the feeling of wrongness stayed.
“Have you ever been examined by the defendant for bugs?”
A sound somewhere between a laugh and the remaining air leaving my lungs came unbidden from my mouth. God help me…
Yes.
“Can you explain, please?”
He said anywhere there’s hair, ticks can go. He said he had to check.
“And what did you do?”
I figured out how to check myself with a mirror. I didn’t like when he did it, but I was afraid I might get ticks there, so I checked myself.
“What happened then?”
He told me I didn’t check well enough. It had to be him.
“Did you ever have a tick there?”
No, sir.
I locked the door. He yelled at me. He came in while I was taking baths. I switched to showers. He came in when I showered. I showered faster. He came in anyway. I stopped showering unless someone else was home or he wasn’t. I got in trouble for being dirty.
I was eleven. I was dirty. I could be infested with bugs at any moment. I didn’t shave properly. I couldn’t be alone. My door could never be locked. My life’s mission became a simple one:
Never be alone with him.
“What was the first instance that you felt this way?”
The scratch. My breath caught in my throat and stopped. Nothing could get through into my lungs. I was back there… eleven and in pain… afraid and confused… why did he do that???
“Why didn’t you tell?”
He was always there. If I told, they would fight, maybe divorce… my fault… all my fault… The tears that were held back opened like a torrent. My breath stopped completely and I panicked. I couldn’t talk, couldn’t breathe…
So help me God…
“Were you upset when he left?”
I nodded.
“Please say your response out loud for the court.”
I gasp out a barely audible yes.
“Why?”
He’s my father… The words hung in the air like smoke. Now instead of no air, there’s too much. My head begins to spin and I hear the D.A. address the judge.
“Your Honor, please can we have a short recess?”
“Granted. We will recess for ten minutes.”
The District Attorney half dragged, half carried me to the back of the makeshift courtroom. What little composure I had left fled. Pale, shaking, and gasping for breath that wouldn’t come, I choked out an apology. No, he whispered, you’re perfect.
“No more questions for this witness, Your Honor.”
“Your witness.”
He smirked. I steeled myself for the worst. He called me a pathological liar. I was a part of a conspiracy against an honest man whose only mistake was asking for a divorce from a woman who no longer loved him. I was angry at him for leaving and jealous that he had a step daughter and a new daughter that I felt were replacements for me. Admit it, I just wanted revenge.
What are you talking about?
“Admit it, you were after revenge!”
No, I promised to tell the truth!
“How many children have you had?”
Tw- “Objection!”
“Withdraw the question. Defense is finished with this witness.”
The abruptness with which it was over was confusing. What had just happened? When I wouldn’t lie under pressure to bend to his version of events, he tried to use take the questioning in a direction that would show I was the whore he said I was in his previous statements. When the D.A pounced on the left turn, he withdrew and ended it.
My father sat perfectly still through the whole thing. No emotion, no reaction. The only trace of anything was that little half smile that said to anyone who knew him that he thought the whole trial was a lark. Total BS in his book.
Ultimately, the jury did not believe his conspiracy theory. I did not celebrate. This was no cause for celebration; it was cause for tears. I do not hate my father. I did not then, nor do I now wish revenge on him. I know what happened and in his deepest heart that he seemingly chooses to ignore, so does he.
For three days, my family and the new one he made after he left my mother sat together. Each of us in turn went missing for a time, to be shaken, verbally beaten, taken to the brink of whatever we called sanity, and then redeposited with the group to await the next disappearance. We all had different experiences to explain and in the end we all said the same thing:
Never be alone with him.
I forgave him. I do not fear him. I understand that he acted out what was first done to him. That is not an excuse but an explanation. I understand that addictions do not just go away. I know that he never trusted himself for good reason. We were the lingering bottle to the alcoholic. A teaser shot to the druggie. A glimpse of skin for the porn addict. He knew it was there beneath the surface and he did not cage that beast well enough. The state did it for him.
So help him God.