Sister of Silence (10 page)

I
was looking out the car window when we heard gunfire. “They’re shooting at us!” I yelled as Mom ducked and told us to get down, too. We were terrified, but Dad acted like being shot at happened every day.

“They’re just warning shots, probably from some Jordanian military compound,” he said calmly.

Still, it sobered him up, and Dad said we had one more site to see. “Do you know where we are?” he asked me when we finally stopped.

I thought the old building sitting there was a religious structure, but it wasn’t as nice as the others I had seen in Jordan.

“We’re in what’s considered the most revered part of the Holy Land. This is Mount Nebo. I thought you might enjoy seeing it,” Dad said.

I looked around, remembering something about Mount Nebo from my Bible studies. “Isn’t that where Moses was?” I asked Mom.

“Some people believe this is where he was buried,” she said. “The church would have been built later.”

We wound our way up a walkway made
of all different colors of tiny tiles, many of which were loose and falling away. The church was closed for the day, but we toured the exterior. The view included the entire Jordan Valley and rooftops from faraway houses. It was spectacular. I thought of Moses’ forty-year trek through the wilderness, and the decree denying him entry into the Promised Land.

For a man whose only claim to spirituality was the agnosticism he sometimes expressed, it was a thoughtful gift to a daughter whose life would be forever changed by the time he would see her again.

A few days later I told my family goodbye and excitedly boarded a jet that would take me to London. I was going to see the stage play
Annie
and then stay overnight before returning home. Dad had surprised me a week earlier when he told me his British friend, Alan, whom I had met in Amman, would meet me in London with my ticket.

“I can’t believe it!” I threw myself at Dad and hugged him when he told me.

“Since you enjoy the theatre, I thought you should see it.” He grunted, but his face wore a small smile.

But just after take-off, the pilot’s voice came over the intercom. “We’re having engine trouble and need to return to the airport. But don’t worry, we’ll get you back in the air in no time,” he said.

I sighed and tried to relax, and prayed for a safe landing.

We landed without incident, but the airport was packed with wall-to-wall people. I tried calling my parents from a pay phone, but they weren’t home. So I dug out my novel and began reading until we boarded a plane headed for Greece. We would get off in Athens and wait for another plane to take us to London. As I left Amman for the second time, I felt torn: I wanted to stay with my parents where I would be safe, but
, as always, a part of me longed to see Eddie again. As the bustling city of seven hills became a speck among a sea of beige, I pulled out my journal and began writing. I never wanted to forget my trip.

The airline promised the Athens layover would be brief, but it wasn’t. And we weren’t allowed to leave the airport. The only good thing about landing there was seeing the beautiful city from the air, where much of its ancient architecture still stood. I held my breath when we circled the island
s and when I glimpsed the Greek Parthenon perched below us near Athens.

The layover lasted all day. At first my curiosity got the best of me, and I walked through the airport, watching the sparkling blue sea from a window. Then I spent too much money in the gift shop. Finally, when I realized I was going to miss
Annie
, I grew frustrated. I wasn’t alone; everyone was frustrated. By the time we decided we were stranded, our flight was announced. Long since tired and bored, we boarded yet another big jet, which flew us nonstop to London.

I went from Heathrow International Airport to the hotel room Dad had reserved for me, fell into bed and woke with a start just a few hours later, returning to the airport. I slept during most of the flight home and was happy to see Bruce when the plane landed. He took me to the Amtrak station, so I could head home to Preston County. I had already called Eddie’s parents and Mrs. Leigh told me how much they had missed me. “You be careful now, Honey. We want you back in one piece,” she said warmly.

Jet-lagged and exhausted, I boarded a train and slept most of the way there, where Kim met me.

It felt so good to be home, and I was secretly happy that Eddie was working.

Two hours later, after telling them about my trip and handing out the gifts I had brought, I slid between the crisp sheets Eddie’s mom had put on his bed, insistent I sleep there
to be more comfortable.

I was still asleep the next morning when I felt something moving on my breast. Bolting upright, I saw Eddie in bed beside me. A split second later I realized he was naked.

“What are you doing here?” I thought I must be dreaming, but his roving hands told me otherwise.

“Get out, now!” I spat at him. “Do you want your folks to come up here? They’ll kill us both!” I tried to pull the covers up as I pushed him away.

He stopped long enough to wrap his arms around me and look at me wickedly. “They would if they were here.”

I stared at him. “I don’t believe you. They wouldn’t leave us alone together. If you don’t leave this minute, I’ll scream!” I tried pushing at him, but he just laughed.

“Go ahead. They can’t hear you because they’re not here. Mom needed something from town, and made Dad take her.” His shrug was blasé.

Then his eyes darkened. “I couldn’t stand it without you. I’ve had to wait so long, and I can’t wait anymore.” He began kissing my neck and, taking my nightgown strap between his teeth, he pulled it off my shoulder, exposing the white skin beneath. “Oh God, you are so dark.” He buried his face in my neck.

“Please, I, I—” I couldn’t finish. I was already on fire. I couldn’t help it, but I didn’t want to feel that way. My body turned traitor as I felt the pressure build and a return of the tenseness I had tried to forget. I stiffened, willing myself not to give in, but within minutes I had. I lay there, feeling disgusted and dirty.

Eddie stared at me, a victorious look in his eyes. I tried to move as far away from him as I could, but he just pulled me closer. “Oh man, do you ever make love good. I worship you. I would do anything for you,” he said.

Yes, anything except not touch me.

I turned away, clenching my teeth to keep them from chattering. I squeezed my eyes shut so I wouldn’t be able to see him.

Please God, forgive me for sinning against you. Please, please help me to be stronger next time. Help me to not do anything to tease him, and help me to make Eddie behave himself.

But I knew God wouldn’t help me. He hadn’t helped me before, so why should he now? God knew I was a hypocrite.

Later that morning, after I bathed and tried to block out what had happened, Eddie’s parents came home. Suddenly I found myself questioning Eddie’s intentions—and his honesty. Chatting over tea, his mom told me that while I was gone, Vonna, a very pretty neighbor girl of thirteen, had visited them.

“I don’t know why she came over; she just kind of invited herself, but I’ll tell you, she won’t come again!” Mrs. Leigh said.

“Why not?”

“Well, because she propositioned Eddie, and left a note under his pillow.” Before leaving for work, Eddie apparently had torn it to shreds, tossing it into the trash. But Mrs. Leigh was putting some clean laundry on Eddie’s bed when she saw the shredded paper. Out of curiosity, she picked up one piece and then another, until she had taped them all back together, like a jigsaw puzzle.

Mrs. Leigh assured me that Vonna’s parents had been informed about their daughter’s conduct.

But something didn’t sound right. I kept quiet, but at the back of my mind was a very nagging, persistent voice that questioned just how faultless Eddie could have been. I remembered when he promised he would never touch me again, but then he did. And the times I saw him look at other women, an odd expression on his face. I never said anything about it, but if he noticed my gaze, he seemed to change completely, almost as if he’d donned a mask. Each time, I chocked it up to my overactive imagination. Still unsettled about the whole matter, I went to see Kim.

“How did you find out?” she asked, looking surprised. “I was going to tell you, but I would have broken it a little easier. Look, all I know is what Eddie said, but I did see the note. It just said, ‘Maybe next time we can go a little farther,’ or something like that.”

“That little brat! I’d like to slap her!” I began. Then I stopped. “But what about Eddie, do you think he…” I left the question unfinished.

Kim looked uneasy. “Do I think he started it? I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me anything, except what Mom already told you. But if he did, well if I was you, I wouldn’t have anything else to do with him,” she said indignantly. “He’s my brother, but you’re my friend, and I don’t want to see him hurt you.”

I was upset and confused. I didn’t know what to think. Part of me wanted to believe Vonna had instigated everything, yet another part held back. That part of me knew Eddie was capable of having been the one who got the ball rolling, so to speak. By that night, I had mustered up enough courage to ask him directly.

“I don’t know. Nothing,” he said.

“You do know. After all, you’re the one Vonna wrote the note to,” I said angrily.

His face went blank when he heard my words. “Nothing happened. It wasn’t my fault, really. She just
…” He laughed self-consciously and avoided my gaze, looking embarrassed. “Well, she threw herself at me. And I told her that I wasn’t interested in her. That’s all.”

“Are you sure
, Eddie?” I wanted desperately to believe him.

He shook his head like he thought I was crazy. “Now look, I told you, nothing happened. If you don’t believe me, ask her and she’ll tell you.”

Disgusted by my distrust, he turned and walked away. “This is crazy!” he muttered.

I was so confused after talking to him I didn’t know what to believe. I was hurt and bitter for a long time afterward, and treated Eddie coolly whenever we were together. It was only a matter of time, though, before I began to come around, and eventually convinced myself it didn’t matter.

Whatever happened, it didn’t mean anything to Eddie. He still loves me.
I told myself that at least a dozen times a day. But I never, ever forgot it, and stashed it away in a compartment of my mind where, as the years went by, where many similar memories would be stored for safekeeping.

Attending summer school permitted me to skip an entire grade, so in September I returned to West Preston High School as a senior. But it wasn’t the same. Where I had once earned straight As, taking great pride in my work and carefully doing my assignments, I no longer studied as much, nor researched like I had before. Instead, I threw my papers together at the last possible minute, and when report cards were handed out, I took home Bs and Cs. Because learning came naturally, though, my grades were okay. I knew my attitude had gradually changed, but I just didn’t care anymore.

The only exception came in my
Journalism and English classes. In my Journalism class, students wrote and edited the school newspaper, and I was assigned to be the school correspondent for two local newspapers. In my English class, my teachers praised me for something they called my “lovely use of alliteration.” I didn’t really care what that was or how I did it, I just loved to write. Somehow I stayed focused enough to do so.

Then everything changed when Mom called in December, saying she and the girls were returning home. Because she was six months pregnant, I wondered if something was wrong, but she insisted it wasn’t. I
had been enjoying living with Kathryn, who had become more like a beloved aunt than a family friend. She believed any girl younger than eighteen was too young to date, which had effectively kept Eddie almost entirely away from me—something that, deep down, I found I really liked—so I had mixed feelings about Mom’s return. Kathryn said it was for the best, since a teenager needs her mother. I knew she was right, because I had decided I needed to tell Mom the truth.

I’m going to tell her
.
Even if she thinks I’m a terrible human being. But maybe, just maybe, she’ll understand.

The minute I saw
Mom at the airport, I nearly blurted it out. But during dinner she told me Dad’s drinking was worse, so I kept quiet. After hearing he had thrown a beer can at her, I couldn’t burden Mom with my problem—she had too many of her own.

It was easier that way, since Eddie’s words kept running through my brain. “Don’t tell anyone. You know what will happen if you do,” he had said anxiously. “My parents will kill me and you’ll get in trouble, too.”

So it became far easier to keep our secret, than to ever try and tell anyone.

By then I knew several girls who were doing the same thing. There was Susie, who was having sex with a guy in his late twenties, and Patty, whose older brother’s friends would invariably end up in her bedroom after the lights went out. They were just two girls among many others.

As I thought about those girls—other girls like me, I believed—I wondered why so many of them were being picked up after school by much older boys, men even. The guys would hang out in their big, fancy trucks at the pizza parlor, parking next door to the school. And every day, girls would cross the invisible barrier that prevented their adult boyfriends from coming onto school property, but which never seemed to keep the girls from leaving it.