Unspoken - Kiss of the Wolf Spider, Part I (3 page)

Sometime later, Uncle Peter fixed the doll but I no longer loved her.
“People don’t really like things that have been damaged, do they?” I reasoned.

One evening Steven was left to babysit Anthony and me. I don’t know who
decided the film was suitable, but we’d been left at home, watching James Bond
on TV.  Steven and Anthony were lying on the floor.

“Janey, come and lie next to me,” Steven called. I did
so
want my
big cousin to like me so foolishly, I joined them under the blanket on the
carpet. Perhaps I should be kinder to myself, since I was only nine years old
at the time but I’ve often felt I should have known better. Anyway, Steven’s
hand was soon exploring inside my pyjama pants.

  “No Steven, what are you doing?” I whispered, embarrassed. I shoved his
hand away but he said, ‘It’s what grown-ups do. You just saw James Bond put his
hand under her dress. Stop being a baby. You don’t want me to call you a baby
do you?”

 He began to touch me intimately and at first it was curiously pleasant
but I became progressively more disturbed by it. As I objected he started to
bargain. “If you let me look at you while I touch you I’ll give you a chance to
…”

Anthony was giggling.

“No! Gross!” I pushed him away again.

“You baby!” That taunt again! I jumped up and for want of something
better to do, found my way to the fridge for a glass of juice.

When Mom
came home and we were back in our
garage flat, I told her about Steven’s touching. Mom didn’t say anything.

“I want you to smack Steven or tell-on to his dad,” I demanded.

“I can’t do that, Honey. We live here and we can’t cause
problems.”

“That’s not fair. He’s ugly and he needs a slap!”  Mom said to forget
about it; he was just being curious and it was over. Luckily Mom soon rented a
little old cottage out of town on some rich people’s farm. Steven never touched
me again but the memory of that day plagued me for years to come.

Our little farm cottage was surrounded by the smell of fresh grass and
cow manure. Daisy, a big black and white cow, grazed in the paddock next to the
house. She had a massive udder and no horns, so we could stand close to her and
stroke her while Erasmus, the Zulu farm-worker drew her milk down into a metal
pail with his strong, dark hands.

The people in the big house were wealthy – in my young eyes,
supremely
rich because they had horses and Wendy, their sixteen year-old daughter rode
them. This made her the envy of every pre-teen girl in the area but especially
me. I stared at her blonde hair trailing in the wind as she cantered
confidently across the fields and wished I was her.

Awestruck, I decided to write about her. A friend had given me a diary
for my ninth birthday.  It was brown and looked old. I was disappointed until I
realised it had a lock and key like a treasure chest. It was
clearly meant to be a
secret
diary; so long before I
began writing in it, I’d made a game of keeping it hidden. My first entry read:

Tuesday 8 May 1984

Wendy rode her horse today. It’s so big and strong. It’s
black and shiny.  It reared up and she didn’t even fall. I wish I could ride
too. I wish I was older and pretty like her. Like a princess with golden hair…

I continued to record my cheerless little life in my diary
for the next few years...

Wednesday 12 September 1984

Mommy doesn’t talk nicely to me like she used to when I was
small. She’s always busy with Adrian Spencer now. I think he’s a farmer.  He
lives on Sweet Meadows farm. It’s like next door but further.  She acts like
she wishes she didn’t even have children anymore. Last time we visited his farm
Mommy and Adrian were playing the song “Tonight I’ll celebrate my love for you”
and they sat on the veranda and kissed for a very long, long time. It was
disgusting.  They stayed like that till I got bored and went away. Now the more
this man comes to visit, the more horrid Mommy is to Anthony and me.

I hate people with long nails washing my hair. Mommy hurts my
head. My teacher said she is worried. She thinks I have a sickness.

Friday  14 September 1984

Today Anthony fell off the bed and started to cry. Mom blamed me.
His face hit the wall and it was very sore. Mom came to his rescue and boy did
my face and head hurt after she had finished with me.

Tuesday 18 September 1984

Now the teachers want to know what all the bruises on my arms
are from. It’s where Mommy pinches me whenever she is cross.

   Thursday 20 September 1984

Some ladies came to school today to talk to me about the
bruises and sores on my head. The teachers must have told them.

Monday 24 September 1984

The ladies – called social workers – came again … I was
crying but they said we don’t have to worry. They said they will come again to
talk to Mom.

Saturday 9 February 1985

Standard two has been so hard. Now it is the holidays and we
are staying with Dad. Today my nanny, Alice told me that Mom got married to
Adrian on the weekend! Now she is Mrs Spencer! She didn’t even tell us. And we
didn’t get invited to the wedding! Nice mother hey?  I guess she doesn’t have
time for us now. 

Thursday 14 February 1985

     Hey Diary – Guess what?  It’s Valentine’s Day. We made
red hearts at school. And love is in the air. Now Daddy and Mrs Brown (her real
name is Joanne), are getting married. I am going to be the flower girl.
Anthony will be a pageboy. We are going with them to Cape
Town in the holidays.

Saturday 16 March 1985

We still live with Mom but we go stay with Daddy and Joanne
some weekends. His house is much better and he has clean water.  We like going
to his work. We play with the wax.

There is no water in our taps here. Mom says they are broken.
We have to use the water from the swimming pool to wash and drink. It’s dirty
and we carry it inside in a bucket. Mom and Adrian sit by the pool and drink
their brandy and coke but they don’t swim.  We have to boil the water because
Mom says it will make us sick.   Dad has clean water and a clean swimming pool.

Sunday 17 March 1985

Mom sent us next door to the neighbours at lunch time because
there was no food in our kitchen. Mom says we are poor. I feel embarrassed but
I get so hungry, so me and Anthony go.

Monday 18 March 1985

Guess what! Mom says we are moving again.  But I don’t know
how long till we go. I will have to start at  ANOTHER new school. I suppose I
will have to try to make new friends AGAIN!  The problem is every time I change
schools the work gets harder. But at least we get new clothes – uniforms I
mean.    

I hope the new place has clean water.

Friday 22 March 1985

Mrs Simpkins feels sorry for Mom so she asks us over for
dinner every Thursday. But last night she gave us peas – yuck! Mom says we
should be grateful.

Tuesday 30 July 1985

Rochelle is my new best friend. Her Mom and Dad are also
divorced. She lives with her Mom who is really nice. She understands about
divorce. She knows why it makes me so angry and sad that my Mom and Dad got
divorced.  I go to Rochelle’s a lot. It is very nice to play at her house. They
have a lot of food and their water is clean.

Sunday 4 August 1985

We went to Cape Town with Dad and Joanne in the holidays.

Mom had a new baby while we were on holiday. Yesterday I was
holding her and playing with her. Mom kept on and on saying nice things about
the lovely baby.  Eventually I moved too close to the fan and I got the baby’s
finger caught in the fan. I was a bit jealous of her because Mom loves her so,
so much. Mom gave me a fat slap and I guess I deserved it. The baby didn’t hurt
me. But boy, Mom did.

Thursday 8 August 1985

Well, we have finally moved again and I really miss Rochelle.
Now we are all staying with Adrian’s sister, Rose. Mom says we needed to have a
place with clean water for the baby. Rose’s son is Damon.  I can’t stand
sharing this house with Rose and Damon.

 Damon has yellow hair and pale green eyes.  He is three
standards ahead of me. He touches me just like Steven used to do. What is wrong
with boys? Mommy leaves me to look after the new baby and then Damon touches me
in the places my costume covers. The teacher once said those are private
places.  Damon is MUCH bigger than me and I am afraid of him. I said I will
tell and he said he will tell them I am a liar and they will believe him
because he is older. Damon also has books with rude pictures. I hate Damon.

Mom never did anything about Steven so I didn’t tell her
about Damon’s touching. I was too embarrassed.

I guess that when Dad heard Anthony and me talking about
having no clean running water at home and going to the neighbours for food, he
must have called in the welfare.

I do remember him asking us if we wanted to live with him.
Certainly his home was infinitely better than Mom’s, so I guess I said yes.
It’s all rather a blur now but I remember some women coming to talk to us and
then  a man in a dark suit made me write my name on some documents before the
end of the school holidays.

We went back to Mom and Adrian’s place when term began but a
few days later a letter arrived in the post. I remember Mom read the letter to
herself over and over and then raged at me. I’d no idea why – after all I hadn’t
sent the letter! She said I’d rejected her and hurt her feelings and if we
wanted Dad we could have him. Well, at least we got to move away from Rose’s
house and disgusting Damon.

We moved in with Joanne and Dad and living with them was
quite nice to begin with. We each had our own room and Dad had a pool and we
got toys and new clothes. Then Anthony had to move out and share my room while
Joanne prepared his room for the baby. I thought that was unfair as the baby
could have had the sewing room. After Susie was born, Joanne became less
interested in us and seemed to get mad at me for everything.

Joanne and Dad decided that Anthony was going to attend a
government co-ed school down the road but I had to go off to a Convent. When I
asked our neighbour’s six year old daughter who attended the Convent what it
was like, I heard her say, “It’s got only girls and nun teachers.” Perplexed, I
wondered how a school could have no teachers. In retrospect, that would have
been funny if my reality of the school and the nuns had not turned out to be so
awful.

Friday 25 September 1987

Life with Dad and Joanne is not going well. Dad and Joanne don’t fight
the way Dad and Mom used to, but Dad is really mean and bad tempered. I seem to
make him angry all the time and he beats me often. 
When
he leaves bruises he says I can’t swim at school. Last week he wrote a note
that said my costume was lost and the teacher said I could use a spare school
costume. I said ‘no’ and so the teachers now think I’m cheeky.
I just
have to take whatever punishment the gym teacher has up her sleeve on those
days.

At home Joanne is spiteful to me and her words are cruel.

Now some other stuff is starting to happen to me – stuff that
upsets me  –  stuff that happens mainly in the night. Stuff like Damon did. But
worse.

 One day, after a Religion class about confession, I mustered
all my courage and tried to tell the nun about what was going on at home. I
stayed back after the class had been dismissed and asked the nun if I could ‘confess
something’.

She looked at me suspiciously and immediately I wished I
hadn’t said a thing. She crossed herself and said, “What is it?” She was so
cold and angry that I should have run – but I froze and followed orders. I
blurted out, “My Dad beats me badly … and sometimes he leaves bruises so I
can’t swim and I have to lie about them … and my stepmother, Joanne hates me
….”  That was all I managed to tell her when some instinct made me glance up. I
saw her horrified lips grow thin and pale. My ‘confession’ ended then and there
… and I hadn’t even got to the
really
bad part yet!

She snarled down at me like a hungry tiger and said, “You
disgusting, ungrateful little liar! How dare you talk about your father like
that? He’s a good man and it’s one of God’s commands that parents discipline
their children! He has a right to spank you when you’re naughty! And how dare
you lie to your swimming teacher!” With that, God’s chosen woman pulled me up
by my collar, slapped me across the face and swept out of the room, sayi
ng, “Your father will hear
about this!”

That afternoon when Joanne arrived to collect me from school, I could
sense that I was in trouble. Joanne was icy and silent. As soon as Dad walked
in, Joanne hissed, “We have to talk! To the lounge, both of you!”

Joanne began coldly but soon she was screeching. “Do you know what this
little witch of a daughter has done to us? She has ruined this family’s good
name and your reputation at school. Today she told Sister Theresa that we … you
… beat her and leave bruises …
and
… listen to this … and that I am a
mean and cruel stepmother to her! What kind of perfect princess does she think
she is?”

Dad’s face turned red, and Joanne, the hungry lioness, pounced. She laid
hold of my shoulders, screaming, “How dare you, Jane? What happens in the home
stays in the home!” She shook me  like a dead rabbit.

Suddenly Dad raged, “Let the child go!” Momentarily I thought I was safe.
Wrong! In the next second he lunged. My cheek felt shattered as I reeled
backwards across the table under the force of the blow he laid across my face.
As I fell, I heard Joanne’s ranting voice:  “That’s how you get all those
bruises you idiot – you are so clumsy!” As I tried to get up, I thought it was
over but Dad took off his belt, and there and then, he gave me a lashing I
would never forget….

“You see God!” I said into the darkness that night. “I trusted that nun
and look what happened. She was meant to be a good person. And I trusted you
but you did nothing to stop it! And you’re supposed to be all-powerful! What a
joke.”