The Heart is a Lonely Hunter (4 page)
Mrs. Shipp, on the other hand, became increasingly unhappy and frustrated with both administration and staff. She saw little progress. And attributed Sill’s less frequent tantrums to her withdrawing further and further into her shell instead of fighting to exorcise her demons. Hell, she was no doctor but she would rather see her daughter screaming at the top of her lungs than just sitting morose, vegetating. Of course, the staff preferred her comatose-like state. She was less work and that in turn made their jobs simpler. However, Mrs. Ship’s complaints were becoming so frequent that the nurses joked about sending Sylvia home and admitting her mother in her stead.
One day, not long after, disgusted with the hospital the doctors and the staff in general Mrs. Shipp decided it was time for Sylvia to come home. Tired of making the daily jaunt to the hospital following a long tiring day at work she decided to use the month or so she’d accumulated for sick leave to stay at home and cater to her daughters needs. Mr. Shipp who had long ago grown tired of his wife’s bitching and moaning concerning the hospital’s deficiencies also agreed that it might be time for their daughter to be released.
Arriving at the hospital at a little after six that Tuesday evening, Mrs. Shipp was somewhat surprised to find her husband already there. Not only was he there but he had the unmitigated gall and the audacity to be standing and grinning right along with the rest of the staff. And that good for nothing Dr. Reid stood right next to him probably selling him that same ol’ b.s. about the precarious nature of mental illness and how you couldn’t put a time frame on recovery. It was bullshit. Pure and simple. Nothing more than insurance fraud. Fifteen hundred dollars a day and she still hadn’t seen any improvement, nothing even closely resembling recovery. In fact, it appeared that if anything, Sill was growing worse. In her eyes, the time for idle chitchat was over. If she had to she’d choose her own home remedies to fix her little girl.
Moving closer to the crowded nurse’s station, her anger rising, Beulah Shipp couldn’t help but wonder what all the commotion was about. After all, her husband hardly ever came onto the ward to visit his daughter. He was always content to wait in the lobby or the cafeteria. The mere sight of him had the unnerving effect of sending Sylvia into an uproar and it was far more than he could tolerate. Yet, today, despite vehement objections at having their daughter discharged against everyone’s better judgment, stood her husband. Approaching the nurse’s station, paperwork in hand, she froze, dumbfounded.
In the midst of the crowd, stood Sylvia, chattering away with orderlies and interns. It was almost as if a former employee had come back to the hospital to visit. Beulah Shipp was spellbound. The moment Sylvia caught sight of her mother standing there she turned and rushed towards her. Hugging her tighter than she ever had before, she whispered into her ear.
“I believe it’s time for me to go home now, mommy.”
The ride home from the hospital would have been unusually quiet had it not been for Sylvia’s constant chattering. It was almost as if she were trying to make up for lost time. She had no recollection of the events passed or at least chose not to speak about them. And her parents were so glad just to have her back in the fold that they dared not bring up the incident.
Before leaving the hospital, Dr. Reid had suggested that Sill continue counseling on an outpatient basis, fearing that if she suppressed the rape, there was a good chance it would show up eventually and perhaps cause a relapse. According to the good doctor, the rape had to be confronted. In due time, Sylvia would have to face the reality that she was the victim of a horrendous crime through no fault of her own. The Shipps on the other hand, were so eager to have their daughter back to her old self that they would have agreed to almost anything at this point but after the first couple of weeks at home, they were as convinced as Sill that the demons had passed. And each time she would come home from those damn sessions, she seemed so morose and distant, so removed from the family that they tended to agree with Sill about the counseling doing more harm than good. Bored out of her mind, it wasn’t long before Sylvia started bringing up the subject of returning to school. Zachary had called several times to apologize and to keep her abreast of the happenings on both the campuses and she was glad for this.
Meanwhile, the district attorney and prosecutors sought to have criminal charges brought against the alleged assailants but were unable to gather enough evidence for a case and were forced to withdraw the allegations entirely and submit a formal apology to both the school and the alleged assailants. One parent who could not believe her son to be mixed up in anything so ‘vile’ even went so far as to having a lawsuit filed suggesting defamation of character against the district attorney’s office.
Sill would later find out from the chief prosecutor on the case that Zachary was the only one who had charges filed against him. They were later dropped when the assailants learned that Zachary Phillips either would not or could not testify against them. From the chief prosecutor, who was given the unenviable job of closing the case, the Shipps learned of that terrible night.
“It seems Chad’s roommate; Zachary Phillips came home quite drunk that evening to find there was a party going on in his room. When he entered, he found seven or eight young men in his roommate’s bedroom, performing intercourse and fellatio on a female, seemingly against her will. Upon witnessing this it seems from all our accounts that Zachary Phillips, a star linebacker at the college and NFL prospect lost it completely.
Picking up a desk chair, Zachary broke the nose of one young man, the collarbone of another who just happened to be one of his teammates and came close to gouging the eye out of a third student. When he found out that it was Sylvia that had been raped, they say, he broke down in tears but still had the wherewithal to take her to the hospital where he stayed until she was admitted. He then went after his roommate Chad whom, thank God, he never found and whom we are still unable to locate. Lord knows what he would have done if he’d found him.
For several days after the incident, no one was able to locate Zachary but local police in Raleigh picked him up on a trespassing charge. It seems he went to his roommate’s house expecting Chad to return home. When the boy’s parents told Zachary that Chad wasn’t there, Zachary parked his car across the street from the house where he waited for close to two days. The neighbors were scared stiff. Imagine a six foot five, two hundred and eighty-five pound man standing in front of your house for two straight days. In any case, they had him picked up for trespassing and he remained there until the Raleigh police informed the college who sent someone down to bail him out. By the time, we had a chance to question him it was pretty obvious that the school, the coach or an NFL scout had already gotten to him and scared the beegeezus out of the kid. Must have told him his NFL chances would be ruined if he mentioned anything about the incident. Everybody downtown in our office is sure that this was the case since none of the students he assaulted pressed charges and the trespassing charges in Raleigh were suddenly dropped. They suspended him from the football team and then quite mysteriously reinstated him. Therefore, it is our belief although we can’t substantiate it that someone got to him before we did. He’s a good kid though and we’re certainly glad that he found Sylvia when he did. Otherwise, there’s no telling what those drunken punks might have done. And it may be the closest thing to justice that we’ll see.”
There would be no criminal charges filed. And Sylvia was opposed to a civil suit against those involved and the university. Her lawyer was convinced that her suit against the college for not providing a safe environment was extremely winnable but she didn’t want to face her attackers or rehash the entire rape scene again. It was enough she had to continue with the damn therapy which went over the same thing time and time again. Truth of the matter was that she was sick of the whole affair and wanted no more than to let bygones be bygones. After all, she was the victim and she was willingly to let it go. Hell, it was time to get on with her life and she just had too much living and too much catching up to do.
Out of sheer boredom, Sylvia grabbed the first job that came along and found herself at J.C. Penney’s working as a part-time greeter and received so many compliments for her charisma that before long her supervisor recommended her for a full-time position in customer service. She gladly accepted the position since it allowed her no time to attend those ridiculous counseling sessions at the hospital.
Feeling better about herself and life in general, she hated being reminded about a situation that somehow had just happened. She missed school, missed her friends and her sorors but working full time kept her busy and before long, she had put together a small nest egg. She knew she was a burden on her parents. They had to double up now since there were three of them working and had only two cars so she made up her mind one day on the way home from work that maybe it was time for her to buy a new car. Heck, she wasn’t paying any rent and Tech had offered her a nice out of court settlement in lieu of her not going forward with a civil suit so a car was not out of the question although she was sure her parent’s would somehow disagree. They had suddenly become very overprotective but a car would certainly give her a sense of freedom. At least she
could go
even if the fact of the matter remained that she really had no place to go.
So on Friday, which just so happened to be payday, Sill stopped by the Ford dealership where her father bought his cars and was greeted by a very bright and very handsome young car dealer. It was the first time in Lord knows how long Sylvia had actually felt anything towards the opposite sex without feeling either guilt or some type of animosity towards them. Somehow, he was
different.
He didn’t seem at all serious or preoccupied with selling cars. There was none of the high-pressure sales techniques employed by your typical car salesmen. In fact, at one point, Sylvia wondered if he were interested in selling her a car at all. But by the end of the day, Sylvia found herself sitting behind the wheel of a brand new royal blue, Ford Escort, complete with rear spoiler, sunroof, CD player—and a date for the evening.
“No need for you to change clothes, Sylvia, the salesman said. You drive your parent’s car. I’ll follow you in your car and then we can shoot over to Ruby Tuesday’s for a burger or something before we head to the movies. How’s that sound?”
Peter Townsend was his name, and Sylvia was to say the least, smitten. He was bright, good looking and working on his Civil Engineering degree at Morehouse in Atlanta. When his grant did not show up on time, he was forced to take a semester off and ended up selling cars for his uncle to pick up a little extra cash until it was time to go back to school.
Mrs. Shipp loved Peter from the outset. She like her daughter found the young man to be both witty and charming. And she was certainly glad to see her Sill finally getting back into the swing of things so soon after her ordeal. A little more cautious, Mr. Shipp eyed Peter Townsend the entire time he was there as if he were an escaped convict on the lam. When the couple said their good evenings and prepared to leave Sylvia was sure that her father was going to follow them and felt almost compelled to take him into the den to reassure him that everything would be fine.
The evening turned out to be one of the best Sylvia had had in as long as she could remember. Off the car lot, Peter Townsend was quite different. He was actually rather quiet and unassuming content to listen to Sill babble on about her favorite music groups and college life. Not once during the whole conversation did he even bother to interrupt except when she paused to catch her breath or to laugh at one of her less than funny anecdotes.
Over the next few months, Peter Townsend and Sylvia Shipp became inseparable attending movies and plays and going off for quiet dinners at quaint little out of the way restaurants. Peter Townsend was everything that Chad was not. Sylvia was quite sure of this when Mr. Shipp, always the evil ogre when it came to her choice of men finally gave Peter his blessing. He even got to the point where he would take Peter fishing with him for crappy on the weekends. Her parent’s could hardly remember a time when Sill had been happier.
When Mrs. Shipp’s transmission decided that it would only go in reverse it was Peter and his uncle who arranged the loaner. Two weeks later, her transmission still not fixed, Peter sold her the car at their cost. All was well, until
Peter now unsure of whether he should return to Morehouse or continue selling cars brought his dilemma to Mr. Shipp during one of their Saturday afternoon fishing excursions.
Both men had come to appreciate these outings. Content to sit on the muddy banks of No-Name Creek both men had come to the point where they enjoyed these outings more than either would admit. Neither was much of an angler although no one could tell Mr. Shipp that. He had every piece of fishing equipment one man could possibly own. And because of that, he often felt the added pressure to bring something home to account for his extravagant spending and long forays into the backwoods of North Carolina’s Piedmont that often netted nothing but excuse after excuse and another reason to buy another piece of equipment that would end his fishing woes. But since Peter had become his fishing partner there was no need for excuses or to stop by Sam’s and pick up a couple of catfish to bring home to Mrs. Shipp who planned her Saturday fish fries around her husband’s catch.
Now that Peter was here, fishing was just a means of getting out of earshot of the women who bugged him with their constant idle chatter. Here out in the open air, men could talk in peace about the real goings on in the world. It was the good life. A couple of sandwiches and a twelve pack and right there next to No-Name Creek real men like Shipp and Townsend could solve the puzzle of the Middle-East, end starvation and other epidemics which plagued the world. Yet Horace Shipp, long accustomed to these unofficial cabinet meetings between him and his future son-in-law never expected the conversation that Peter Townsend was about to spring on him that particularly Saturday afternoon.