The young me was full of willows—thoughts that snag on emotions and cannot be expressed. When I attempted to put words to those feelings, they came out as meaningless sentences like: “All this way to get to this moment and no farther—the pivotal axis of the regional circumference of the dichotomy between right and wrong.” Mind you, I had the presence of mind to keep this nonsensical stuff to myself. But, it didn’t help me figure out what to do about my situation either.
The next day at Western proved to be little better than the first. It was Sunday. My father dropped off my clothes and a few of my belongings including my guitar. The staff made a great show of inventorying and helping me label my clothing.
The day moved slowly. It was warm and sunny. Later in the day, we were allowed to go outside and play baseball with the boys in the adjacent “cottage.” It was my first trip outside since Friday. I looked at the open air and blue sky with relish.
On the way out to the field, one of the counselors, Jerry, stopped me and told me to keep within his sight. Jerry was tall and athletic with his hair in an afro looking down at me. I could see no one else was being watched closely. I asked him why.
“I looked over your chart and noticed you have runaway tendencies.”
“Runaway tendencies?” I was dumbfounded. I had runaway once in my life and it had taken me two years just to get the courage. I quickly got back on track. I said, “Oh, I’ll stick close to you then,” with a sarcastic edge that Jerry missed.
I played along with everyone else but inside it brought up the pain of being left again. “Runaway indeed,” I said to myself. If Kantor had left me here. I would never leave until Kantor came back to get me. Running away was the last thing on my mind. Pure survival was more on the forefront.
* * * * * * *
“Don’t runaway, Lucifer. There is nothing to be afraid of.” Martineau spoke with the quiet assurance that Lucifer had come to trust.
“I can’t get through to her.”
“You will. Just be patient.”
* * * * * * *
(1987)
(I KNOW NOTHING. I FEEL NOTHING. I REMEMBER NOTHING. Oh, come on now, that’s bullshit. I KNOW NOTHING. I FEEL NOTHING. I REMEMBER NOTHING. Hey! Listen to me. You’re gonna be all right. I KNOW NOTHING. I FEEL NOTHING. I REMEMBER NOTHING…..)
* * * * * * *
I made a splendid discovery in BJ’s office. Well, maybe not splendid, but informative. While scanning my memories for dead body part references, I kept coming back to memories of Oklahoma. All this time, I couldn’t imagine the dead body parts reference and now suddenly I got a clue.
“I remember cleaning catfish, you know, they’re still alive while you clean them.” I wrinkled my nose. “I remember my grandmother wringing the chickens’ necks. I was totally disgusted….My dad and grandfather went hunting all the time and brought back dead animals.”
I got a pang as I remembered my dad bringing back a small rabbit. I held it when he handed it to me. It was still warm. He had hit it on the head and killed it without leaving a mark. I felt so sad that it was dead. It seemed so gentle as if it were sleeping.
“We ate squirrels and rabbits that they killed. Shit, it was a veritable parade of dead bodies around there.” I started breathing a little faster. My stomach felt a little twisted inside. “God, I never thought of that. That trip was full of dead body parts.”
“What does it mean to you?” BJ asked. I felt a rush of sound in my ears—a loud humming. A picture flashed in my mind, and I backed away from it.
“Joceile, what happened?”
“I can just imagine what might have happened.”
Inside me, Sasifraz erupted. “You better shut up, my dear, you are treading on VERY THIN ICE.”
“Leave me alone, I can do this,” I responded to him. Then to BJ, “Of course, it didn’t really happen. But if it had happened, it might of happened like this…. He might of held up the rabbit in front of me. He might have cut it with a knife, and he might of told me I was no more than the rabbit. The difference between us was just his will, and he would kill me as surely as he killed the rabbit if I didn’t do what he said….at least that’s what might have happened. But, no one would believe it. I don’t believe it.”
“J, you’re going to pay for this. None of this is true. Ever. You made it up.” Sasifraz was quite emphatic.
“BJ, it couldn’t be true. I must have made it up.”
“Why would you make it up?”
“I don’t know, but I must have.”
“I have no reason to believe you made it up.”
“Can’t we come up with one? It would make me a lot happier.”
* * * * * * *
(I NEVER WROTE THIS. Uh-huh. NEVER THOUGHT IT. Right. IT IS NOT TRUE. Uh-huh. IT’S NOT TRUE. Who are you trying to convince? SASIFRAZ... WE ATE THAT RABBIT FOR DINNER. You’re kidding. I MUST BE.)