How could Mommy want this kind of a life? I thought. Despite herself and the mean things she had said to me last night after I had told her about Uncle Jacob, her eyes did soften occasionally. Deep in her heart, I told myself, she wants to go home. I've just got to get her to realize it.
Still wearing my nighty and Mommy's robe, I cleaned up their bedroom and began ironing Richard's pants and shirts. I worked without thought, moving like some kind of a robot, dazed by the tragic events. A little after noon, I finally put the work aside and went into the bathroom to take a shower I stood there letting the warm water beat on the top of my head, my eyes closed, the stream flowing over my face. Finally, I shut off the shower and stepped out from behind the curtain.
For a moment, I was confused. I knew I had brought in a towel and my clothes, but there was just a hand towel on the rack and none of my clothes were in sight. Not trusting my own memory, I figured I had intended to do these things, but because of being in such deep thought, hadn't. Dripping wet, I ran out of the bathroom to my bedroom. As soon as I entered, the door closed behind me, only I hadn't been the one to close it.
Richard stood there, leering at me, and he was stark naked himself!
Silent screams stuck in my throat.
"What are you doing? Where's Mammy?" I finally shouted and rushed to the bed to pull the top sheet off and throw it around me. Brittle as thin glass, his laughter crackled across the room. He stepped forward, not making any attempt to hide his manliness from my sight.
"I told you to stop calling her Mommy," he said, still smiling.
"Where is she? What are you doing?"
"She's at her audition. She'll be there most of the day. There are a lot of actresses trying out for the part, so I thought, why hang around? I decided, while waiting, I might as well make myself useful. I've been wondering why you would run out on such an easy job for a lot of money yesterday, and I figured out it's simply because you're too innocent. You need to grow up, and fast, or you'll never amount to anything. Consider this an extra service. Call it my generosity," he continued, moving closer and closer until he was only inches away.
I turned and looked down rather than into his face. His breath stank from alcohol and began to upset my stomach. I felt it do flip-flops.
"Come on," he said, "I know you're looking forward to this."
"Get away from me!" I cried.
He put his right hand on my shoulder and his left on my waist, forcing me to turn to him.
"Relax and enjoy," he said bringing his lips close to mine. I swung my head and tried to pivot out of his grasp, but he tightened his hold and pressed his lips against my mouth. I gagged and kicked out, catching him between his legs with my knee. His face, exploded like a balloon bursting and he crumbled, clutching his lower stomach.
I didn't wait. I pushed past him and started to run from the room, holding onto the sheet. Somehow, he managed to reach out, clutching the end of the sheet and holding on. It tugged me back until I let go and fled the room, totally naked. I returned to the bathroom and slammed the door shut, locking it after me. Then I stood there for a moment gasping, sobbing, listening. My heart was pounding so, I had to lean against the door to brace myself. The memory of the stench coming from his mouth made me dryheave.
"You little bitch," I heard him shout. He came up to the door and tried the handle. "Open up. How dare you knee me like that? I'm letting you stay here, aren't I?"
He pounded the door with his fist and I screamed. Then he stopped and all was quiet for a long moment. I tried to hold my breath so I could listen, but my lungs were stretched to bursting and the thump, thump, thump of my heart was echoing in my eardrums.
"You'll be sorry," he finally said in a loud whisper between the door and the doorjamb. "I could have taught you something, made you grow up overnight. You would have been sophisticated enough for anything, but Richard Marlin doesn't allow himself to get turned down more than once. It's your loss," he added. "You hear?"
He punched the door again. I cried out and backed away, afraid he would break the door down. After a while I heard only silence and then, when I drew closer to the door and put my ear against it, I heard him walk away. I didn't come out. I sat on the tub and waited, my arms folded tightly under my breasts, my sobbing slowing and my breathing returning to normal. I heard the front door open and close. All was quiet. Was it a trick to get me to open the bathroom door?
I waited and waited, listening, hoping he would grow impatient if he were still out there, but I heard nothing. Suddenly the phone rang. It rang and rang and I imagined that if he were still there, he would be too concerned the call was for him and he would have answered it. More confident that he was gone, I unlocked the door as carefully and as quietly as I could. I hesitated and then in fractions of an inch at a time, opened it until I could peer out.
I didn't see him anywhere. I looked across the dining area to my bedroom. The door was wide open. Was he waiting inside the room again? I tried to swallow, to stop my heart from its racing again, but I couldn't. His attack had made my legs weak and my whole body trembled as I opened the bathroom door wider and wider until I stepped out, and then waited, terrified he would suddenly appear and lunge at me. He didn't.
My courage growing, I practically tiptoed across the floor to the doorway of my bedroom. There I paused to listen. I heard nothing. I took a deep breath and walked into my bedroom, gazing around quickly, clenching my hands into little fists with which to pummel him should he pop out at me. He wasn't anywhere in sight. I closed the door quickly and then, my heart fell. What if he were hiding in my closet?
I waited, listening again for a moment. Hearing nothing, I went to the closet door and pulled it open. The wind from my jerking open the door shook the clothes on the hangers, but thankfully, there was no Richard Marlin hiding and waiting to pounce out at me.
I got dressed as quickly as I could and then I fled the apartment, feeling trapped and in danger of a horrible repeat performance if I remained there. I didn't look at anyone when I hurried down the walkway. Like someone in a race, I shot through the main gate and charged down the sidewalk. I walked as quickly as I could, not looking back, crossing streets, fighting traffic, hurrying along as if I knew where I wanted to go. It felt good to move quickly. It stopped my body from trembling and the farther away from The Egyptian Gardens I walked, the safer I felt. Finally, tired, my body
in a heavy sweat, I paused at a corner, undecided in which direction I should continue. I gazed at the street sign that read Melrose Avenue, and then I looked around at other people.
Up until this moment, I hadn't noticed anyone or anything. I had walked with blind eyes, focused only on fleeing Richard's awful grasp. Now I found myself in a very curious area of the city. Young people with blue, green and pink hair, dressed in leather jackets and jeans walked past and in front of me. Many had tattoos covering their arms and chests. Two girls even had rings in their noses! I felt like I had stepped onto another planet.
I backed up, turned and started walking in the opposite direction. Everyone in this city really did seem to be in his or her own movie, I thought, feeling as if I had wandered onto a movie set. I didn't know whether I should laugh or cry. After I walked a few minutes, the neighborhood changed again and I slowed my pace, quickly realizing that I was lost. I stopped again and gazed around, this time seeing a small store window on my left that read MADAM MARLENE, READINGS. I saw the crystals and the tarot cards and thought about Holly and Billy. It brought a smile back to my lips. Impulsively, perhaps searching for good memories at a very troubled time, I stepped into the small shop.
There was a dark cherry wood table and two chairs at the center of the little room. The crystals were in a small glass case on the right and at the rear of the shop there was a doorway like the one at Holly's shop, curtained with strings of beads. When I entered, a small buzzer had gone off. A short, darkhaired elderly lady came through the doorway of beads. She wore a shimmery white shawl over a dark blue dress and had silver earrings with crystals that glittered like diamonds in between the long strands of hair falling over her shoulders. Her dark eyes were large but she made them appear even larger with smudgy kohl eyeliner.
"Hello," she said. "I'm Madam Marlene. Would you like a reading?"
I shook my head.