Without You I Have Nothing (27 page)

BOOK: Without You I Have Nothing
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Peter tried to be
cheerful, pretending he couldn’t remember what an ass he’d been and refusing to
allow thoughts of Jennifer to enter his mind.

“Don’t be silly.”

“Susie, you don’t
come if you don’t promise.”

“I promise,” she
sighed. “But it sounds exciting.”

The grinding of gears
and the howling of the stressed motor as they clawed their way up the
never-ending hills did not worry her.

“Oh, look at those
lambs. Isn’t that a beautiful creek?  I didn’t realize…  Isn’t that pretty?” 
Her cheerfulness made the hours pass.

“You're tired, Peter.
Pull over and we’ll eat at the next place.”  She was happily giving orders
again.

“It’s a truckers’
joint.”  Peter was reluctant to take her in there. “They’ll all think we are
lovers.”

“Don’t care.”  She
surprised Peter as he felt her hand squeeze his knee. “They’ll all be envious.”

The sun had set as
they reached the outskirts of Sydney, and the street lamps had been blazing for
hours when the engine finally was hushed.

“That was some
drive.”  Susie patted the mudguard and turned to Peter. “You worked hard. I
didn’t realize that trucking meant such hard work.”

“I’ll get my car and
drive you home.”

She looked relieved. “You
can soak while I get us something to eat. We have to talk.”

Peter’s face clouded
over.

“Peter,” she sounded
a warning, “You’ve got to talk. This weekend could have been a disaster ending
with you in jail or worse.”  To continue was unnecessary.

The hot bath was a
luxury. He was enjoying soaking the tiredness out of his bones too much to
complain when Susie strolled in. He made no complaint when she rolled up her
sleeves.

“Okay, big boy, I'm
here to do your back.”  She massaged him across the shoulders and neck. Then
with a smack and, “Food’s ready,” she left.

They avoided the
topic that was uppermost in both their minds while they ate.

Suddenly over coffee,
Peter’s conversation turned to the subject they had avoided. “Susie, about the
other night, I should never…” and his voice trailed off.

Susie sprang to her
feet. “You wash up. I need a bath.”

She took a long time
and answered Peter’s teasing questions about ‘a massage’ and ‘a back rub’ with
a screech. “Get back to the kitchen. You’re far too dangerous to allow in
here.”  Eventually, Susie joined Peter on the lounge.

Taking his hands
gently in hers, she quietly asked, “Can you talk yet?”

He shook his head,
doing nothing to encourage her curiosity.

“What is there to
talk about?”  He looked at her. The glare in her eyes made him drop his bravado
and he added, “I don’t know.”

“All right then, I’ll
make this easier for you. First - explain your back.”

Unwilling to reveal
his story, Peter stared at her, wondering how little he had to reveal to stop
this questioning. While he waited, trying to clear his mind, Susie gazed into
his soul, willing him to answer.

“Well, my family was
captured by communist criminals in Malaysia. My father was shot and I was
flogged to make my mother submissive to the leader’s demands.”  Peter’s head
dropped and his eyes misted. He didn’t want to look at Susie as he spoke.

Knowing the distress
caused by that answer, Susie dared not question more but she needed answers. “Is
your mother alive?  Have you any family at all?”

“My mother was shot
in front of me and I am all alone - no family – nothing.”  A suppressed sob
welled up from Peter’s chest. He held his breath, trying to bring himself under
control.

“I am not forgetting
Friday night - and you should be ashamed of yourself terrorizing me like
that.”  Susie was not finished.

Peter hung his head,
unable to look at her. She was right. He had terrorized her.

“You intended to rape
me. Don’t deny it. I’m not stupid. Then suddenly you stopped before any damage
was done and rushed off into the night,” Susie continued.

“That was not the
behavior of the likeable Peter I know. Peter the gentleman, Peter the hero who
rushes to a damsel’s aid with no thought for his own safety.”  She paused to
watch the effect of her words. “Don’t look embarrassed and get all brutish.”

She adjusted their
positions until Peter lay with his head in her lap. Gently she stroked his
forehead.

“There’s something
wrong. There’s some hurt deep down inside and I don’t think it’s anything to do
with this weekend.”

Peter tried to reply
but she cut him short.

“This weekend,
something happened to cause you to lose control, but the hurt is further in the
past than this weekend.”

“Susie. What can I
say?”  Peter fought the feelings and the tears. “There’s really nothing. I was
just worked up and angry.”

“That’s right, you
were angry. Not with me, but you used me to work out your anger. You really
were not the Peter I know. You had a wild look in your eyes and that was
frightening. You looked as though someone had mortally wounded you and you acted
like a wounded animal - ready to lash out at anything and everything that moved.
Now, what hurt you?”  She smiled wisely and added, “Jennifer?”

The hurt returned the
anger and he was unable to prevent the words from bursting out.

“Bugger Jennifer!  She
can rot in hell.”

“Oh?  Is that so?”

“The world does not
revolve around Jennifer Blake. There is more to my life than that red-headed
bitch.”

“Your words tell me
one thing but your heart tells me another.”  Susie began to rock him against
her breasts, softly stroking his face until Peter’s eyes closed and the tears,
unchecked, began to flow.

“That’s right, let it
out. Go further back. The real hurt is not Jennifer - further back, go back
further.”  Sensing a slight change in his demeanor, she became silent, just
cradling Peter’s head as he opened his mind to reveal all the ugliness.

“My mother insisted
that Dad take her to the Cameron Highlands for the weekend - a second honeymoon
she called it. He didn’t want to go as he’d promised to take me fishing, but
she insisted. I believe it was a plan hatched between her and her criminal
Chinese lover. Oh, yes, I knew she had a lover as he had forced me to put his
penis in her mouth, her vagina or her anus by flogging me until I conformed. He
flogged me to make her do his bidding!”

Susie heaved and her
words, “Oh, God!” went unnoticed.

“Dad was murdered and
my mother and I were with her lover for years. During that time, he flogged me
to make her more passionate in response to his demands. When released after my mother’s
tormentor had shot her, I was simply an embarrassment to the RAAF and I had no
relations living who could take me in. No-one wanted me.”

Unable to continue,
Peter sobbed uncontrollably for some minutes. Susie held him close to her and
stroked his hair, calming him slowly. At last, he summoned some strength and
sat up. Staring at the ceiling, his hand in hers, he continued.

“As I grew, I became
more and more reserved. I soon learnt that showing my emotions gave people a
chance to hurt me. Any time I grew fond of a family they moved me on as if God
didn’t want me to form any relationships. I tried to make friends with girls
but they all laughed at me and teased me that my parents were dead or that my
mother had been a whore. Every time I began to care about someone, I met a
blank wall and I hurt. Finally, I just gave up. I had become a joke.”

Susie interrupted his
long tale of sadness. “You're no joke now, Peter. You're someone special for
someone special.”

“Ha!”  The bitterness
mixed with salty tears, “That ‘someone special', as you call her, is a first
rate, lying bitch.”

Susie recoiled from
his vehemence but said nothing. Her stroking demanded he continue.

“I told her,” God, he
was so bitter, “I told her I loved her - I loved her so much I hadn’t touched
her. She said she was a virgin and I said I’d wait until we were married.”

Wide eyed, he
stopped, realizing the implications of what he had blurted out. The thought of
what he had done to Susie and what he had intended doing made his breakdown
complete and he sobbed bitterly.

The rocking and the
stroking continued. “Come on, there’s more yet.”

“Well,” slowly Peter
returned to his story, “Jennifer called. No, I called her and the bitch was too
busy to talk. She told me she was off to the airport to pick up someone special
from Melbourne and demanded I meet the two of them Friday night. She was too
excited to talk and it was obvious what this man meant to her. Christ, what a
bitch!”

Susie stiffened and
said nothing. She didn’t have any answers, so the best thing she could do for
Peter was to remain silent and just listen.

“I went along to meet
them in our usual place, knowing the pattern of my life was continuing, but in
actual fact I was really fascinated that I couldn’t break free of the pattern. They
didn’t see me. They were too engrossed in each other, too involved holding
hands. Bloody hell!  ‘Someone special’ is exactly what she called him.”

Between sobs, he
retreated into his childhood for something to compare with such a loss.

“Christ, I wasn’t
even allowed a kitten or puppy of my own.”  He shook as he cried - there were
no more dark corners.

Susie allowed his
sobbing to die so that he had time to regain his composure. When she spoke, it
was so kindly and so softly, he could have sworn she spoke as his mother.

“There’s still more. There’s
still more. You took me off to rape me. I must know the lot. Otherwise I can’t
help you because I still can’t understand.”

He had told so much
of those parts of his life kept secret until now that Peter knew he had to tell
the rest as it involved Susie. At least he owed her that much.

“I left. I couldn’t
go across the room and talk to them. They weren’t the least interested in
anyone else – I could see it was enough for them to be with each other. I got
back to the workshop and rolled that bloody truck out.

“I wanted to kill
myself. What was the use of continuing?  The Gods were laughing at me. What a
bloody good joke on me.

“I loved her - I
hadn’t touched her although I was always on fire for her - and all the time she
belonged to someone else. All I wanted to do was smash everything. What was the
point?  My mother didn’t want me. Jennifer definitely didn’t want me. I felt I
couldn’t continue, but then you were there suddenly, standing there and
offering to help by going with me. I was lashing out at women.”

He sat up and took
Susie’s hands but still could not look at her. Head bowed he continued. “But
why you, Susie?  You’re the only woman who has accepted me as I am. You’ve been
kind to me, kinder than I ever deserve and you cared for me. Yet, I was an
animal.”

“Better me than
someone else.”  In her kindly way, she lifted his face to kiss his cheek. “I
don’t believe you’d go well in jail. No,” she smiled and stood, “you’re far too
sensitive.”

Their discussion had
covered a lot of ground and it seemed to Susie a good time to use some simple
culinary skills to soothe his distress in a more practical manner.

Peter allowed his
thoughts to ramble until she returned with two steaming mugs of soup.

“Drink this and
listen to me.”  She was almost motherly. “You have been hurt so much you expect
to be hurt.”

Peter sipped and
listened. Perhaps she could produce the knife to slash the tangled web and set
him free.

“Now as an adult you
still expect to be hurt and it hurts more now. Just, look at yourself. You’re
successful – you have a lot going for you. You're kind, considerate and
thoughtful and by God, you would be an unbelievably incredible lover.”

She blushed a little
– a rare thing for Susie. Still she stared at Peter. Putting down her soup, she
stood and walked in front of him. Grasping his head in both hands, she held it
so firmly that he felt he couldn’t escape the intensity of her gaze.

“Has that penetrated
that thick head of yours?  You have a lot more going for you than most, so now
it’s time to get rid of the anger.”

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