Novel: Filling the Cracks—Chapter Four

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Welcome to the fourth installment of my novel, Filling the Cracks, posted exclusively here every Wednesday! Check in every week for a new chapter. (Access previously posted chapters from the tab on the menu bar above labeled “Filling the Cracks.”)

Trigger warning: The following story contains topics that may disturb some readers, including child physical and sexual abuse, domestic abuse, substance abuse, violence, and suicide. Although there is no explicit sexuality or language, this is written for an adult audience and may not be suitable for children.

Chapter Four

Beth stopped at home after school on Friday only long enough to drop off her book bag and pick up Otto, and their duffel bags, which she’d left near the side door so she wouldn’t have to enter the house, run into Virgie, and risk having her mom change her mind about allowing them to go on the camping trip. She opened the side door, hung her book bag on a hook, and shouted for Otto. He came running from his bedroom dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants, appearing more excited than Beth remembered him being in a long time. They grabbed their bags and headed to her friend’s house without saying a word. Lisa waited for them on the sidewalk, and together they hurried away from the Clark home before Virgie stopped them.

Mr. Jones, a tall blonde man in his forties, a plumber who owned his own business, came home at four so they could get an early start on the weekend. He helped Mrs. Jones finish packing their tent trailer with camping gear and groceries, and within forty-five minutes, the four members of the Jones household, plus Beth and Otto, were in the van and on the road. Their destination wasn’t far—about two hours away—but for Beth, it might as well have been across the universe; she was so excited. She trembled from exuberance, giggling with Lisa and Aurora in the back like she hadn’t a care in the world. Otto ignored the cackling females, staring out his window and naming all the cars they passed; it became a game between him and Mr. Jones.

It had been a long time since Beth had felt so good, and along with the pleasant feeling was anxiety snaking around it—in Beth’s experience, good things often came with a price, and if they didn’t, they didn’t last all that long before bad things returned.

At the campsite, they found a spot a stone’s throw away from the lakefront, surrounded by trees for privacy and large enough to accommodate both the tent trailer and a four-person dome tent. The trailer slept as many as five people, but that would have been cramped, so they decided the girls would sleep in a tent while Mr. and Mrs. Jones and Otto enjoyed the trailer’s bunks. They set up camp as soon as they arrived, the happy girls squabbling over the best way to erect the tent while the adults and Otto set up the trailer and other gear. After several false starts, the girls pitched their tent with the fly and blew up air mattresses with a foot pump. At last, they lay three thick sleeping bags and pillows on the beds, and their temporary abode was ready for habitation.

Next came dinner. Mrs. Jones covered the site’s picnic table with a plastic tablecloth, setting out all the fixings they needed to make hot dogs and s’mores. Mr. Jones lit the campfire in the pit, teaching Beth and Otto how to build a tee-pee of dry starter twigs and branches over dry grass and leaves which he lit with a long match. Within minutes he added larger branches to the arch over the growing flames, followed by wood he chopped from that they had brought along in the trailer. Once the fire burned low and hot with plenty of glowing embers, it was ready for roasting wieners and, after dinner, marshmallows to slip between the graham crackers and chocolate.

Beth and Otto hadn’t had chocolate in at least four months. Money was scant at their home, and chocolate was a luxury that Virgie didn’t allow onto her grocery list, though there was always plenty of money for trips to the liquor store for chardonnay or beer for Gary. Beth savored the sweet treat with every bite, only making one s’more until Mrs. Jones encouraged her to make herself another one if she wanted. She wouldn’t say no; Otto was already on his third.

“What’d you do to your forehead there, Beth?” Mr. Jones asked her, gesturing at the band-aid she wore.

Beth repeated the ‘falling down the stairs’ story to her friend’s dad, despite the knowing glare she received from Lisa.

“Ah,” Mr. Jones said with a nod and a quick look at Mrs. Jones. “That was rough luck you had there. Did you fall down all the stairs of just a couple? ‘Cause those bruises on your arms look painful.”

“All the way down,” Beth said, forcing a laugh and avoiding his piercing eyes. “Slippery socks.”

“Must happen a lot.”

Lisa nodded. “Yeah, Daddy. It happens to Beth all the time.”

Beth elbowed her friend in the ribs, hoping the growing dusk hid it from the adults.

“What’s it been like having Uncle Gary living with you?” Mrs. Jones asked before sipping the tea she’d made from water boiled over the fire.

“It’s lousy,” Otto said, earning a fierce glare from Beth.

“Okay, I guess,” Beth countered, staring into the flames instead of the person she spoke with. “He helps with money.”

“Is that all he does?”

“What do you mean?”

Mrs. Jones shrugged, looking over the rim of her melamine mug. “Does he help around the house, cleaning and repairing things? Does he discipline Otto and you when your mom is at work?”

Knowing a leading question when she heard one, Beth hedged. “He watches us when Virgie—I mean, Mom—is working, yeah.”

“But does he punish you when you do wrong?” Mrs. Jones’s eyes studied Beth as if examining everything about her. It made Beth uncomfortable.

“Heck, yeah,” Otto answered, only to earn an elbow in the ribs from his sister.

“Sometimes,” Beth said quickly. “But only when we deserve it. I gotta go to the outhouse.” She jumped up from the tree stump she was using as a stool and hurried down the dark path toward the latrine. She forgot to bring along a flashlight and had to navigate by moon and starlight.

“Wait up, I’m coming too,” Lisa called, hurrying after her with the flashlight. She caught up to her as she reached the outhouse. “You okay?”

“No,” Beth hissed, whirling around. “Why are they asking me all those questions? Did you tell them anything?”

“No. I didn’t have to. You’re covered in bruises and cuts. People notice.”

Beth hugged herself, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t have come. I should have stayed home. This was a mistake.”

Lisa took her by the shoulders. “Look at me. No, it wasn’t. Tell my parents the truth. They’ll help you like they help Aurora.”

“I can’t. Nobody helps me.” Beth brushed Lisa’s hands away. “Whenever I tell someone about it, I get hurt worse. And then there’s Otto. That dummy. He’ll get us both in trouble when we get back.”

“I think Otto is brave to be so honest,” Lisa said, crossing her arms over her chest.

To end the conversation, Beth entered the outhouse and locked the door. She didn’t need to go, but she didn’t want to talk anymore about that topic, and Lisa would continue to pressure her. After waiting about five minutes, Lisa gave up. Beth heard her footsteps as she returned to the campsite.

Beth returned to the campfire a short time later, and the rest of the evening went well; no more questions about her home life or injuries were posed, and she found she relaxed and joked around with the Joneses in a way she never could with her own family. She yearned deep in her heart for the kind of love and camaraderie she found with these people and envied Lisa and Aurora for having this… goodness… every day.

When the fire burned down and the hour was late, Mrs. Jones told the kids it was bedtime. Beth snatched her flannel pajamas from her duffel bag and went to the outhouse with a flashlight to change into them. Even though Lisa knew about most of Beth’s injuries, she didn’t know about the ones inflicted on her nether regions, and she didn’t want to risk her friend noticing anything while she undressed for the night.

Otto went into the tent trailer to change his clothing. Once in his pajamas, he headed to the outhouse to use it before bed, and the Jones parents prepared to sleep.

Snug in their sleeping bags in the tent, Beth, Lisa, and Aurora took turns telling ghost stories and judging to decide who told the creepiest tale. Their giggles gave them away until Mr. Jones called from the tent trailer, telling them to turn off the flashlight and sleep.

Lisa wrapped an arm around her, cuddling, but it wasn’t odd or creepy. It comforted her like a hug.

“Good night, Bethie,” Lisa said. “We’re gonna figure out a way to help you.”

“Yeah,” Aurora whispered. “Listen, I came from a home where my brother used to abuse me, and my dad took video recordings of it. But someone helped me, and now I don’t have to be afraid of that anymore. There’s help for you, too.”

Beth said nothing, a tear rolling down her cheek unnoticed in the dark. She wanted to believe it was possible but didn’t dare allow herself to hope.

#

Beth woke to find herself alone in the tent; early morning sunlight filtered through the canvas lighting her surroundings in a pale green glow. She had slumbered like the dead, unable to recall the last time she’d slept the entire night without being disturbed by something or someone at least once. With a smile, she stretched the kinks out before crawling out of her sleeping bag, finding her mackinaw, and crawling out of the tent.

It smelled delicious outside. The mellowness of bacon frying in a cast iron pan over the campfire and a pot of coffee percolating on the grill next to it were mingled with the sharpness of wood smoke. While Mr. Jones cooked the meat, Mrs. Jones prepared Bannock dough, and Lisa and Otto scraped the bark off the ends of green willow branches with two small pocket knives; they wrapped the dough around the sticks to bake it over the flames. On the picnic table were melamine plates and mugs, butter, and strawberry jam for the Bannock. Beth’s mouth watered. She was lucky if Otto and she got a bowl of Rice Krispies for breakfast on any ordinary day. She always ate like a queen when she shared meals with Lisa’s family.

The six campers planned their day while they baked their Bannock and ate. They agreed to hike around the lake in the morning and spend the afternoon’s heat at the beach sunbathing and swimming. While the hike sounded fun, Beth was less enthusiastic about the beach. Still, she kept her opinion to herself, not wanting to complain. She was happier to be with Lisa and her family doing anything than being at home with her mom and uncle.

The hike was fun. Mr. Jones was an amateur naturalist; they walked along the well-trod paths through brush and trees, and he pointed out flora and fauna of interest to the three young girls, Otto, and his wife. Beth learned from him which plants were poisonous to avoid and which ones were edible. At one point, they came upon a porcupine chewing on a branch and observed the quilled creature from a safe distance until it wandered deeper into the bush. A little while later, they encountered a young buck. He crossed their path, stopping long enough to stare at the humans for several seconds before continuing. Beth viewed the wildlife with breathless awe, loving all animals. She’d always wanted a pet, but Virgie never allowed it. She said they were too dirty and a nuisance. Despite the mice that invaded the Clark home, a cat was considered worse than the vermin.

They returned to the campsite for lunch—ham and cheese sandwiches and potato chips—before Lisa and Aurora excitedly retreated to their tent to change into their bathing suits for the afternoon at the beach. Otto was pumped, taking his swim trunks to the outhouse to change into.

Beth hung outside the tent, paralyzed. Lisa poked her head out through the zipper door.

“Come on, Beth! Get ready!”

Beth shook her head. Tears stung her eyes. Despite knowing they would camp at a lake, she hadn't brought a bathing suit. She’d hoped it wouldn’t happen, that they would do something that didn’t require her to wear something as exposing as a swimsuit. Even a one-piece showed too much of Beth’s damaged flesh.

At that moment, there was only one solution to her problem. She couldn’t join them, so she had to leave them.

Turning heel, she ran into the bush, following one of the well-established hiking paths. When Lisa, her parents, Otto, and Aurora called after her, she hid deeper in the brush and forest and left the path, picking her way through bushes, branches, roots, and fallen trees. She got tired, but kept going, instinct telling her that she had to hide, so the further she went, the harder it would be for the others to locate her. She didn’t know what to do once she was lost—how to survive in the forest alone—but she had to do it, run, and flee. Disorientation alone in the woods was better than having to explain her injuries.

When her adrenalin ran out, she sat behind two fallen logs, one stacked on the other, covered in moss. Panting, she did her best to remain still and quiet, knowing that the Joneses would pursue her. If they found her, they would demand to know why she’d run—if Lisa or Otto didn’t blab the truth to them first. Either way, they would learn of Beth’s secrets and her life forfeited. Virgie would find out whether the Joneses contacted her or the authorities. Her mom would punish Beth and, later, again, Gary in the middle of the night. Help wouldn’t come. Support never came—only pain.

Hot tears streamed down her cheeks; she had learned at home to weep silently. Her entire body convulsed, but no sound came out of her mouth. She cried so hard that once it was over, the emotions spent, so were her body and spirit, and she dozed off leaning against the logs. Not even the mosquitoes were annoying enough to keep her awake.

#

She woke up when it was dark out, and someone carried her. Slowly she opened her eyelids and appraised the side of Mr. Jones’s face. His expression was somber, his brow furrowed, and his jaw muscles worked. He had found her after what had to have been several hours of hunting. He must’ve been angry that she’d been such an imposition to him and his family after they’d been kind enough to take her camping with them.

“I—I can walk,” she told him, squirming. He didn’t seem to hear her but continued to carry her over the rough terrain. He wasn’t alone; Lisa hiked beside him. Her expression was more relaxed than his, but the red puffiness around her eyes spoke of tears she’d shed not long ago.

Beth allowed him to carry her; it was easier than wiggling her way out of his arms. She didn’t want to further anger or offend him. Once they reached the campsite, Mrs. Jones waited with a blanket. Mr. Jones set Beth down on one of the tree stumps next to her brother, and Mrs. Jones wrapped the blanket around her shoulders.

“You had us worried,” she said, but her tone was soft, soothing. “Are you all right? Did you hurt anything out there?”

“No,” Beth answered, self-conscious. “I-I’m fine.”

“I’ll bet you’re hungry.” Mrs. Jones filled a bowl with stew from the pot on the grill above a low fire. She brought it to Beth and placed it in her hands. “Eat this; we’ll talk after.”

Beth’s stomach growled at the smell of the delicious food, but talking about what had happened made her insides twist, and she set the bowl down.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You scared us,” Lisa scolded; she sat on the other side of Beth and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “You need to tell Mom and Dad everything. They need to know.”

Beth eyed first her friend and then Otto, scowling. “How much did you tell them?”

“Nothing,” Otto said between mouthfuls of food.

Lisa shrugged, eyes askance. “Just that Gary hurts you bad. So does your mom. They want to help.”

“They can’t,” Beth whispered. “They won’t.”

A hand came to rest on her shoulder. Aurora stood behind her and said, “Give them a chance to prove you wrong.”

Beth swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. She eyed Lisa’s parents, who sat on the opposite side of the fire; they observed her, indulgent smiles tugging at the corners of their mouths.

“You can trust us,” Mr. Jones said softly.

“No, I can’t,” Beth said with more courage than she felt. But they weren’t going to let the subject drop. With a deep sigh, Beth let a tear drop from her eye. “Gary hurts me sometimes.”

There were no gasps or scowls. No one was surprised. Otto stared at his feet and kicked at the dirt.

“How?” Mrs. Jones’s tone was calm.

Beth looked at Mr. Jones with discomfort. Talking to another female about these things was hard enough, but she couldn’t express them with a man or her brother around. He got the hint when her gaze fell on him, rising from his stump.

“Otto and I will get some more firewood.” Gesturing with his chin at the nine-year-old to come with him, Otto nodded, set his bowl on the ground, and followed the man to the pit where the campground provided free logs for burning. It was about a hundred yards away. They took their time.

Lisa squeezed Beth’s hands. “Talk,”

Beth released a shuddering breath. “Gary… he comes into my bedroom at night… and touches me.”

And from there, Beth described how her uncle regularly raped and forced her to perform all sexual acts on him, under threat of harm if she didn’t. Mrs. Jones listened, expressionless, without interrupting.

“He used objects and hurt me after that,” Beth whispered. She stared at her hands, joined with Lisa’s. “And they’re going to hurt me for telling you. You can’t tell anyone what I said, Mrs. Jones. Please.”

Mrs. Jones left her stump and came around the fire to sit on Otto’s stump beside Beth. She ran her hand over Beth’s hair, and the girl couldn’t resist pressing her head into it. She wasn’t caressed very often. Once again, she found herself wishing the Joneses were her family. Hoping, however, didn’t make it true.

“I’ll do everything I can to make sure you aren’t hurt anymore,” Mrs. Jones said.

Beth couldn’t look at her. “They will. They always do.”

“Then I won’t let you go back there,” Mrs. Jones promised. “We’ll keep you and Otto with us. They’ll have to pry you out of my hands.”

Beth said nothing to that. Part of her yearned to believe Mrs. Jones, but something in her core told her that the woman couldn’t keep her promise.

#

Thanks for reading! Chapter Five will be posted next Wednesday here on my blog, so be sure to return next week. Refer to the menu bar at the top of the page to access past chapters posted on the “Filling the Cracks” page. If you have any comments or questions, please leave them in the comment section below. Also, remember to subscribe to my newsletter and share this blog with your family and friends. Check out my other blog posts, also found here at paulinejgrabia.com. God bless, and have a great week!

Pauline

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