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The door creaked loudly on its hinges when Becki stepped from the bedroom into the living. She froze, hoping Jeff didn’t wake. The only other sound was the hiss of the television that had gone off the air an hour earlier. She could see Jeff sprawled on the living sofa in a drunk. He didn’t wake.
Becki crossed the living room floor toward the door. Her foot kicked an empty whiskey bottle. She looked at him. When Jeff was sleeping he looked childlike, innocent. Maybe she should stay. Then she tasted blood. No. There were too many pieces missing. She buried dollar bills she had taken from Jeff’s top dresser drawer into her pocket, clutched her satchel to her chest, put her hand on the doorknob and stepped into the night.
A light rain had begun to fall as Becki walked the six blocks to the bus depot. She was soaked clean through and thought it was like a Baptism. A man carrying a sleeping child held the door for his wife and Becki inched past them. Inside there weren’t many travelers, just one or two waiting for their buses to arrive. There was a little woman behind the ticket counter, Becki almost didn’t see her. Her hair was all wrapped up in a turbanlike bandana and Becki couldn’t tell what color it was. The woman looked ancient to Becki. She shoved her money across the counter.
"I need a ticket."
"Where to?" the little woman at the ticket counter asked.
Becki thought "Any place as long as it's not here."
Then she realized Jeff would have a headache in the morning from all the whiskey he drank. He was going to need her. She grabbed the money and turned to leave. That’s when the door to the office opened.
Becki turned and saw the woman standing in the doorway surrounded in golden light. "My name is Mildred, won't you come in?"
Becki didn't know why she entered, but she did. She expected an office, grey and furnished with gray metal desk and chair, cigarette marred and ugly. Instead, she found herself in a orange and yellow kitchen with a chrome and formica table and chairs. She sat, and before she knew it, Mildred placed a steaming cup of tea in her hands, then pulled out the chair and sat across from Becki.
"You gonna tell me how you hurt yerself?" Mildred's aging voice asked as she pointed to Becki's broken lip. Becki wanted to tell her she ran into a door, but instead she told Mildred her story.
I never knew my pa. He left when I was little. But mama found herself another good-looking man, he was a traveling salesman. He was good to us, wasn't around much but when he come home he'd bring us gifts. Only one day it changed. He lost... customers and became angry. Now he was around more and the arguing started. One night I heard a loud thud and when mama come from the bedroom she was crying and her eye was bad, bruising.
I cried out "Mama, what happened?"
She replied "I ran into a door."
One night my ma must have run into a big door because her lips was bleeding. I ran to her and threw my arms around her waist.
"Mama?" I cried.
Pa was really angry that night and I could tell he'd been drinking. He grabbed me and threw me against the wall. I heard a crack and felt a pain run up my arm, like I never felt before.
My mama stepped between me and pa. Her face was red with anger, her eyes were fixed on his. "Don't you ever, ever touch my girl!"
He picked up the first thing he could find and slammed it on my mama's head, then he ran out the door.
Mama dried my eyes. "Baby girl, I'm gonna take you to the hospital. But you gotta promise, if the doctors ask what happened to your arm. You tell them you fell down the stairs. If you don't they'll take your pa away, and I love him Baby, I do. He's just on some hard times. He don't mean nothing by it. You'll see.
Well, when the doctors asked, I told them "I fell down the stairs and Mama hurt herself trying to help me.
Pa didn't come home again, and that was good riddance. Things got a lot better.
Before I knew it I was all grown up and in high school. That’s where I met Jeff. He was captain of the high school football team and a good looking man. When he stood on the field in his jersey, he took my breath away.
He used to tell me, "One of these days Becki we’re gonna get out of this town. We’ll get married, have a house, a couple cars and you can even have a kid or two if you like."
Wasn’t that nice of Jeff?
Well, we did get married but we never left. And we didn’t get a house or cars, and no kids yet thank goodness. I took a job and then two jobs. Jeff had to stay close to the phone you know, in case one of them scouts called. I’d do anything for Jeff. He was a fine player, but no calls come in. He sat and sat by the phone. I tried to tell him he needed to find work and he promised. It was always, "Just one more day Becki, the big ones coming, one more day."
And then Jeff was out with his baby brother. They went to a game and had been drinking, tried driving but ran off the road. Nathan didn’t make it and Jeff never forgave himself for that, even though his own elbow was shattered and there was no hope of football in his future. That’s when the drinking started. He was drunk most of the time. I begged him to get help but that only made him angry.
Now, Jeff was never really a patient man but when he was drinking it was worse. When he wanted something, he wanted it now. One night I come home late from working my second job. The house was dark and Jeff was just sitting in the chair a bottle of beer in his hand, empties everywhere.
"Where you been?" he asked.
"Jeff, you know I been at my job."
"Don’t mouth at me. I’m hungry, you left me without supper."
I started to say something when Jeff just leapt from his chair pushed me against the wall with his hand around my throat and began to squeeze. His beer breath was in my face "You get my supper and you get it quick or I’m gonna wring your neck."
Becki drew a breath and hung her head. "I ran into a lot of doors after that.
When Becki finished her story, Mildred rose without a word and set a candle on the table. She walked to the window and opened it a crack, then switched off the lights. That bright orange and yellow kitchen was plunged into darkest. Becki jumped at the suddenness of it. Mildred struck a match and lit the candle, then sat across from Becki.
In only a matter of moments a small moth flew through the open window. It circled around Becki’s head then dove into the fire. Becki watched as its wings curled and it died. Another moth flew into the room and as with the first, did somersaults overhead and dove into the fire. Now Becki looked and through the corner of her eye she could see many moths lining the window, beating their wings against the glass, fighting to get in. She watched as a third moth circled overhead but before it could dive, with hands much too quick for such an old woman, Mildred reached up and caught it. She held the moth in her fist, its wings beating against her fingers and held her closed fist toward Becki.
"What do you think, this moth is gonna do when I open my hand." Her words were soft and measured.
Becki closed her eyes then looked at Mildred. "Let it fly, just let it fly."
But when the old ticket taker opened her hand, the moth did what moths do. It flew into the fire and died. Mildred reached across the table and took both of Becki’s hands in hers and closed her fists around them. "Now, what are you gonna do?"
Becki slid her hands away. She pulled the dollars from her pocket and push them toward Mildred. Then she took a breath and blew out the candle.
Some information on abuse:
It isn’t easy to leave an abusive situation.
If the abuse is or can become physical the first 24 to 48 hours are very dangerous.
Seek safe shelter.
Do not go back, you do not deserve abuse.
It is hard to leave abuse when it is all you know, it somehow validates the victim and woman often return again. Sometimes this leads to their death.
Abusers are not necessarily bad people and this makes it easy for them to hide their illness. It is often why victims stay, because they really do love the abuser not the abuse. But people who abuse do need to get help and the victim is not the one to do it.
Children raised in abusive environments often seek that in adulthood because it is what they know. But we can and must change the cycle.
The national domestic abuse hotline is: 1.800.799.SAFE (7233) 1.800.787.3224 (TTY)
