Bittersweet Dreams (31 page)

“Well, that's very good,” he said. “I'm sure in time Mrs. Cummings will realize—”

“The point is, what I'm about to tell you can't come from me. It has to come from Allison, but she is understandably terrified, especially about talking to someone else.”

“Terrified? Of what?”

“Mr. Taylor,” I said after a long pause.

“Mr. Taylor? Good heavens, why?”

“Even her mother doesn't know any of this yet,” I said. “Allison is too frightened now even to tell her, but I can see how much she is suffering emotionally and psychologically. This is why I decided to come to you.”

“Even her mother doesn't know about what?”

“Allison, my stepsister, has been sexually abused,” I said.

His mouth opened and closed and then opened as he sat there dumbly.

“I didn't find out the details myself until recently. I've given it lots of thought, of course. I questioned her closely, and I read what she wrote in her diary without her knowing I had read it. In my opinion, there's validity to her stories. They're more than just some young girl's fantasies. I thought that because you and I have a good relationship, I could trust you with the information, and you would know how to handle it. I want to repeat, however, that if you use me as the source here, it will create new and more difficult problems, not only for my father and me but also for Allison herself. Her mother might never believe her, and that would be tragic. There are too many similar situations we all read about every day,” I added, emphasizing the word
situations
.

“I see,” he said. He looked like he was having trouble breathing.

“I don't have to tell you how hard mothers and fathers try to avoid facing reality when it comes to their children being responsible for something unpleasant, and in this situation, Allison has been involved in something quite unpleasant. Like you, I've read many of the extracts on the psychology of parenthood, the protective instinct of mothers and fathers, whether they be birds or people.”

“That's true,” he said. I could see his mind was reeling with the possibilities, the bad publicity, and his own responsibilities. He wasn't even listening to what I was saying now.

“Mr. Martin!”

He snapped out of his thoughts and looked at me. “Yes, yes, I'm listening, Mayfair.”

“In this case, my case, Allison's mother would spin on me and try to blame me as long as it would all go away. She would be blind to what is really happening, and Allison would be victimized twice. If you can appreciate that, I'll go on.”

“I understand your problem,” he said.

“This isn't going to be hard, Mr. Martin.” I leaned forward. “My stepsister is a very young, impressionable teenage girl just entering adolescence.”

He nodded.

“Naturally, she has a trusted girlfriend.”

He continued to nod.

“When I questioned Allison, she revealed that she had told her friend things, too, and I'm afraid that girl might have told another girl, who would tell another. You know how that can explode into something that would create quite a scandal for this school.”

“Yes, of course.” The worry in his face was practically oozing out of his eyes now.

“However, this gives us an opportunity. If you called Allison in and told her you've heard some things involving her and Mr. Taylor, she might just tell you everything herself, and that would make it easier for you. And for me and my family,” I said.

The reality of what I was suggesting landed with a thump in his brain. He widened his eyes. “This is a very, very serious thing, Mayfair. An accusation like this against a teacher . . .”

“That's why I came to you first. Might I suggest, Mr. Martin,” I added with a look of firm determination, “that as serious as it might be for a teacher, it is twice as serious for a young girl like Allison. Her whole emotional life could be damaged here. Her parents, my father especially, would be very, very upset.”

“Of course,” he said. “But young girls like Allison often form crushes on their teachers, and they fantasize, too.”

“Absolutely. It will be up to you and whoever else to investigate and determine whether it is true or not. At some point, you'll have to ask for her diary to read the details or, if and when it comes to it, inform the proper authorities to request it.” Before he spoke, I added, “Please keep this as quiet as possible for now, until you and whoever do a proper investigation.”

“Yes, that's very important.”

“You can be assured I won't talk about it. I've already explained why.”

“Good.”

“Mr. Martin, if you betray me, I'll make sure my stepsister clams up, and things will go far worse for everyone, especially the school administration. There are too many examples almost daily now of young people being abused and authorities sweeping it all under the rug to keep from being embarrassed.”

“I understand. I'll handle it,” he said quickly, and stood up. “Thank you for your trust,” he added.

I rose. “No. Thank you for helping us. I'm leaving it entirely in your hands,” I said, my voice full of warnings.

He nodded, and I left his office.

I didn't think I'd ever felt stronger, taller, and more powerful than I did at that moment. Anyone seeing me walk down the corridor would think I had just taken over the school.

My timing was good. The bell rang for lunch, and I intercepted Allison on her way.

“Take a walk with me,” I said, pulling her away from her friends.

“What is it?”

“Mr. Martin called me into his office to ask about you, about the stories he had just heard. He has a very high regard for me and has often asked my advice about things, but this is quite different and the most serious thing of all.”

Blood rushed into her face.

“Don't worry. I handled it well, as I promised. When he calls you in, tell him the truth. Can you remember some of the details you wrote in your diary?”

“I guess so.”

“When you wrote in your diary, did you include dates so someone would understand when these things actually happened?”

“Yes.”

“That's good, very smart of you, Allison. It's like proof when it's written like that. I'm proud of you. So just tell those things if you're asked. You can tell him what you told Lisa, too. Did you tell her everything you wrote in your diary?”

“Not everything.”

“Then just start with what you told her exactly. He might call her in, and it's important that she tells him what you said just the way you said it.”

Her eyes began to tear up. She bit her lower lip. I think she was actually shaking.

“It's all right to look frightened, but if you're told you could get into great trouble by making false accusations against Mr. Taylor, don't start crying and say you made it up. This is a big embarrassment for the school and especially for the administration. They'll be hoping you're lying. They'll try to pressure you to say you were, but I told you that you could hurt us all, because they wouldn't stop with you. They'd call in my father and your mother, and other people would know about everything, especially Mr. Taylor. Okay?”

“Yes.”

“When Mr. Martin calls you in, come look for me afterward to tell me what happened. I'm in the library all day today. All right?”

She didn't answer.

I shook her arm. “All right, Allison?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Good. Go eat lunch, and act as if nothing is wrong,” I told her, and sent her on her way.

I watched her in the cafeteria. Her friends were their usual boisterous and dramatic selves around her, but she sat like someone made of stone. When the bell rang to return to classes, she looked like she would need help to stand, but she did. I saw her walk out talking with her friend Lisa. Maybe she was warning her.

Toward the end of the following period, she came into the library. She looked pale and fragile. I was keeping an eye on the door, so when she appeared, I got up quickly and indicated that she should go back out.

“Into the girls' room,” I said, and she followed me in. “Okay. Tell me everything that went on. Don't leave anything out.”

“It wasn't just Mr. Martin. Dr. Richards was there, too.”

“Yes?”

Finally, she started to cry. It was as though the tears had been pushing on her eyelids like a wild river pressing on a dam. They streamed down her face. Her lips trembled, and her shoulders shook. I put my arm around her and took her into a stall, put the toilet seat down, and had her sit. Then I handed her tissues and waited.

“It was just like you said it would be. Mr. Martin said he heard I was spreading stories about Mr. Taylor. He said it was a very, very serious thing and I could get into very big trouble if I was saying things that weren't true about a teacher.”

“And?”

“I didn't say anything. Dr. Richards was nicer. He smiled at me and said I shouldn't be afraid. I should tell them anything I wanted. So I did what you said. I thought about my diary and told them some of the things I had written in it.”

“What exactly? You never showed me the diary, remember?”

“Like when Mr. Taylor started touching me and when he asked me to help him with marking quizzes. I only had study hall, so I could do it.”

“He gave you a pass out of study hall to come to him?”

“Yes.”

“Well, they can check that out easily enough. Very good, Allison. That was good thinking.”

She smiled through her tears.

“What then?”

“I couldn't say some of the other things. I told them I was too embarrassed to say them, so they took me in to see Mrs. Milligan.”

“The nurse. Very good. I should have anticipated they would do that,” I added, but more for myself than for her. “What did she do?”

“She asked me all kinds of stuff, like what was in the book you gave me.”

“And you told her?”

“She saw I couldn't say it easily, so she said she would ask me a question, and if it was true, I should say yes or, if I couldn't talk, just nod.”

“I didn't hear everything in the gossip. What sorts of things did you say yes to? Him touching you between your legs, under your panties? It's all right to tell that. Those things often happen when someone takes sexual advantage of a young girl. Well?”

She nodded. “Even more,” she said.

“Good. What did she tell you to do now?”

“Go back to class.”

“You don't have to go back to class,” I said. “You're too upset. We'll return to Mrs. Milligan's office. Don't worry. I'll go with you now. You'll say you came to look for me. It's all right.”

“I'm scared,” she said.

I put my arm around her. It felt as surprising to me as I'm sure it did to her. I had never embraced her like this before, but in a way, I felt I was embracing myself, comforting myself. I even kissed her on her forehead the way my father might kiss me to give me a sense of security. “You don't have to be the one who's scared now, Allison. Besides, I'm with you. C'mon,” I urged, and walked her out.

I brought her to the nurse's office and told Mrs. Milligan she had come to me and was too upset to return to class. I asked her to let Allison rest in one of the small rooms she had in her office area, and of course she did.

“Did she tell you any of this?” Mrs. Milligan asked me.

“I'd rather not talk about it now,” I said. “Besides, it might be legally unwise to do so. You should have kept her here. How could you expect her just to carry on as if nothing unusual had occurred after you cross-examined her? This is a major emotional and psychological crisis for a girl her age.”

She recoiled. My sharp tone was like a slap to her. She nodded and went about some clerical work without trying to defend herself. I looked in on Allison, held her hand for a few minutes, and told her to be brave.

“Remember, you're doing this for all of us, Allison, especially your mother and my father. You're okay?”

She nodded and squeaked out a tiny “Yes.”

I returned to the library. It was better to keep busy and behave as though nothing unusual was going on.

Stage three was about to start.

It began right before the end of the day. Julie was called to the school, and my father soon followed. They were in Dr. Richards's office when the bell to end the day rang. Dr. Richards's secretary came looking for me and told me to report to his office. I waited in the outer office. When the door opened, Julie had her arm around Allison's shoulders. Allison had been crying again, but now that was fine. The more she cried, the better it was, in fact. She would get the credibility she needed.

My father looked at me and shook his head. “You know what's going on here?” he asked.

I nodded. “She came to me after she was called to the office, and I took her to the nurse's office because she was so upset.” That was all true. I wasn't lying to him.

“Let's go,” he said.

Since he had met Julie at the school, they had two cars. I was to ride home with him, and Allison rode with Julie.

“What a mess,” he said as we drove off behind Julie and Allison. “When did you learn about this?”

“I had some suspicions, but mostly last night.”

“Why didn't you say something to Julie about it?”

“I'm not exactly Julie's favorite person right now, Daddy. I wasn't going to be the one to start something like this. What if it's not true? It has to be handled correctly.”

“It sure looks true. You know that old expression ‘Where there's smoke, there's fire.' ”

“Yes, Grandmother Lizzy always said that,” I replied. He turned and saw me smiling at the memory.

“What a mess. I wouldn't mind having Lizzy around to help with it.”

“Where are we going?” I asked when I saw Julie miss a turn that would take us home and he turned to follow.