Novel: Filling the Cracks—Chapter Six

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Welcome to the sixth 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 Six

Marg waited for Constable Hughes to leave before turning to Lisa and Aurora, shaking her head in confusion.

“I don’t understand. Why didn’t she reveal the truth to him?”

The girls sat together on the loveseat. Aurora tucked her long legs into the lotus position.

“She was scared,” Lisa replied, and Aurora nodded. “If Virgie found out she had told anyone about what’s going on, she’d get another beating. Otto, too.”

“But no one will tell Virgie that the report came from Beth and Otto,” Frank countered, leaning forward in his seat. His brow creased, the lines around his mouth deeper than usual.

“Constable Hughes will,” Lisa said. “Beth told me that he’s having sex with Virgie. He goes over there all the time. So, if Beth told him, he’d report it to her mom instead of making it stop.”

“Son of a…” In front of the girls, Mr. Jones let his comment trail off. “The man is married. I met his wife when I unclogged their kitchen sink about a year ago.”

Marg fumed as she wrung her hands. “This is an outrage! No wonder we can’t establish law and order in our village with someone like him on patrol.”

“What do we do now?” Lisa asked. “Bethie needs help. We can’t just forget it.”

Marg rose from her seat. “I don’t intend to. We can’t trust that cop, but he’s not the only one around. I’ll call the Spruce Grove detachment tomorrow and make an appointment to talk to Constable Hughes’s superior. Someone there needs to know that Hughes isn’t doing the job he was hired to do. Frank, I’d like you to come with me for that meeting.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” he said, a slight smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. Her determination amused him. She was the extrovert and instigator in the family, but he always supported her missions. Helping protect Beth and Otto Clark from further abuse was a crusade he could stand behind.

#

The next day, Beth returned home from school to find Virgie seated at the kitchen table with a strange woman who immediately showed interest in her as she entered through the side door. The woman appeared to be a bit older than Virgie, with short, graying blonde hair, vibrant green eyes, and an ever-present smile. She was dressed smartly in a white blouse, black skirt, and bright red blazer.

“You must be Beth!” the woman called out before Beth could close the door, hang up her backpack, and take off her shoes.

Beth remained silent, looking at Virgie for a cue on how to reply to the lady. Virgie shot a glare back at Beth, her expression communicating, “Watch your mouth.”

“Hi,” Beth said, concealing her hands behind her back as she waited for an introduction.

Virgie offered the stranger a strained smile and said, “This is Mrs. Lieder. She’s with Social Services. She’s here to check up on you and Otto. There were reports made by people who saw your bruises and were concerned.”

When Virgie mentioned that Lieder was from Social Services, Beth’s heart pounded hard, and her palms were sweaty. Her eyes widened slightly, and she feigned indifference.

“Yes, please have a seat,” Mrs. Lieder said, gesturing to the chair beside hers. “I wanted to speak with Otto as well, but I assume he’s out riding his bike. So, for now, we’ll chat without him.”

A chat? There was no way Beth could have a casual conversation with the government official while her mother sat there, listening to and evaluating every word she spoke. Studying Virgie's reactions and choosing her words would be an excruciating exercise.

Beth perched on the edge of the offered chair, prepared to flee to safety at a moment’s notice, the slightest hint of anger radiating from her mother.

“How are you feeling? I heard you fell down the stairs the other day. Were you badly hurt?” Mrs. Lieder asked.

Beth shook her head, her eyes darting between Virgie and the social worker. “No, ma'am. I feel fine. Everything’s good.”

“You’re doing well in school and with your best friend? Her name is Lisa, right?”

“Yes, Ma’am. I’m doing good at school, too. Everything’s good.”

Virgie laughed. “See? I told you. Everything is back to normal. She was clumsy and slipped on the steps with her socks—they’re covered in linoleum and slippery. She’s just a normal, healthy, klutzy girl.”

“Mrs. Clark,” Mrs. Lieder said, her smile fading, “would you mind if I spoke with Beth alone for a few minutes? It’s protocol.”

Beth caught a flash of panic on Virgie’s face, but she doubted the social worker, who didn’t know her mother as well as she did, noticed it. “Alone? Protocol? Oh, I see. Um, okay. Sure.” Virgie stood up from her chair and slowly left the kitchen. “I’ll be in my bedroom if you need me.”

Mrs. Lieder nodded. “Thank you.”

Virgie cast Beth one final warning glance before vanishing. As soon as they heard the sound of her bedroom door closing, Mrs. Lieder turned her chair to face Beth. She leaned in, and Beth caught a whiff of her perfume. It was the same brand her grandmother wore—Chanel No. 5.

“You may speak freely now, Beth. Everything you share is confidential, meaning no one will inform your mother. Do you understand?”

Beth understood, yet she didn’t believe it. She nodded; it was expected.

Mrs. Lieder was straightforward. “Beth, has anyone intentionally harmed you? That includes physical or sexual harm. Do you understand what I mean by sexual?”

Beth was aware but shrugged, feigning ignorance. Mrs. Lieder clarified the situation, giving a brief sex education lecture, and inquired once more, “Is anyone touching you in your private areas, or forcing you to touch them in theirs?”

It was her opportunity to speak up to someone from the government, but nothing emerged when Beth opened her mouth. Someone had stolen her voice and replaced it with the wind. Tears burned in her eyes, and she shook her head in frustration.

“Take your time,” Mrs. Lieder said softly.

Beth took a deep breath and released it, her body trembling from head to toe. The walls and doors of the old house were paper-thin. There was no doubt in her mind that Virgie stood with her ear pressed against her bedroom door, trying to listen to their conversation.

“I can’t tell you anything without getting into trouble,” Beth whispered, her throat feeling dry and sore. “I’m sorry.”

“I can protect you. I promise.”

Beth met her gaze and studied her eyes for signs of deception. From an early age, she had learned to read people’s intentions by the expression in their eyes. Lieder wasn’t lying, yet Beth couldn’t allow herself to believe.

“Beth, I can make a phone call and have you out of this house tonight, along with your brother. But I need you to tell me the truth.”

Was it really that simple? After all this time and the numerous times adults had let her down, could this be the moment of Beth’s redemption?

She swallowed hard. It was now or never. “Gary stuck his thing in my mouth last night. After that, he shoved a pop bottle inside me. But you’re not going to do anything about it. Because nobody cares.”

The weight of what she had done fell heavily on Beth. Panicked, she jumped out of her chair, ran to her bedroom, and slammed the door. A moment later, Mrs. Lieder knocked, asking her to open it and come out, but Beth lay on her bed with a pillow covering her face and refused. After a couple of minutes, the knocking stopped. Beth removed the pillow and, curious, went to the door, poking her head out. She heard nothing. She crept from the bedroom and found that Mrs. Lieder had left, while Virgie sat in the living room watching TV with Otto. 

“I don’t know what you said to her,” Virgie said, “but it’s a good thing you got rid of her. Still, you have a big mouth and said something to somebody to make them think I’m a bad mother. You know what happens to liars, Beth?”

She trembled and shook her head, sliding away from Virgie on the sofa.

Her mother stood up and yanked Beth off the furniture by the wrist. She cried out; it felt as though her arm was coming out of its shoulder socket. Dragging her to the bathroom, Virgie forced Beth to her knees in front of the toilet.

“Liars get to clean the toilet with their forked tongues.”

Beth’s eyes widened in revulsion. “No, Mommy, please. I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t lie.”

“Lick the toilet bowl,” Virgie commanded, her voice low and menacing. She lifted the seat and pointed at the rim. “Do it.”

The toilet hadn’t been cleaned in a week; it was the only one in the house and was used by four people.

“Please, no, Mommy!”

Virgie forced Beth’s head toward the toilet, the girl’s nose striking the porcelain with force. It dripped red.

“I said lick it! The whole thing—clean. Or I’ll spank you so bad, you’ll wish you were dead.”

Beth was nauseated. She closed her eyes and touched the cool bowl with the tip of her tongue. Virgie pushed her head against the bowl again.

“Lick it!”

Beth obeyed. She licked the entire rim. That satisfied Virgie, who nodded. “Never tell anyone about our private business again, you hear me?”

“Yes, Mommy.” Tears streamed down Beth’s face, blending with the blood.

“Now clean up your mess—and the rest of the bathroom while you’re at it. After that, you’re grounded to your room.” Virgie went to her bedroom to change for work.

Beth hung her head over the toilet bowl and vomited. Once her stomach was empty and cramped from the retching, she held toilet paper to her nose until it stopped bleeding and flushed the evidence away. She washed her face in the sink, scrubbed her teeth, and cleaned the bathroom until it shone.

Adults were dishonest cowards. Government officials and police officers were the worst of the lot. 

Beth stayed in her room until Virgie left for work, then joined Otto to watch TV in the living room. He was understanding, letting her choose which program to watch next.

Television served as a distraction, a temporary panacea for pain.

#

After her favorite television program ended, Beth walked over to the Joneses. Nobody was home, but they had left their dog, Bowser, in the fenced backyard to run around. He was a medium-built Border Collie mix with long hair, entirely black except for a white chest and white socks on his paws. He approached Beth eagerly. She slipped through the gate to prevent him from escaping; she knelt and hugged him while he enthusiastically tried to bathe her with slobber.

She wept into his thick fur, hugging his wiggling body until he calmed, sat down, and allowed her to hold him and cry. Bowser sensed she needed his strength to console her. Once the tears were spent, she stood up to return to her house when the Jones van pulled up the lane and parked in their garage. Lisa, having spotted Beth, came running out, calling her name but stopped short of hugging her when she saw Beth’s red and swollen eyes. Mrs. Jones and Aurora came to stand behind Lisa.

“What happened?” Lisa asked.

“A social worker came to our house. I told her the truth. And she left.” Beth shrugged. “I’m still here.”

Anger replaced the puzzled look on Mrs. Jones’s face. “I’m going to make some phone calls, Beth. Have you and Otto eaten dinner? Bring him here. We’re making spaghetti, and there’s plenty for everyone.”

Mrs. Jones entered her house with Aurora. Lisa accompanied Beth to the Clark house to fetch Otto and invite him to join them for supper. Her brother wasn’t going to argue when food was on the line.

Otto was responsible for feeding and watering Bowser. Beth assisted Lisa and Aurora in preparing the Caesar salad while Mrs. Jones cooked her special spaghetti sauce and chatted on the phone. Beth didn’t know whom she was speaking to. Still, she insisted on talking to someone’s supervisor and was tired of waiting for a response. If someone didn’t address “the situation” quickly, she’d escalate the matter to the “Minister of Social Services.” After a moment of silence, Mrs. Jones slammed the phone receiver back onto the cradle on the wall.

“They put me on hold!” she exclaimed. “Just wait until Frank gets home. I’m going straight to the top!”

Frank Jones was a voice of reason at the dinner table. “We’ll take the matter to the premier if that’s necessary,” he assured his wife and Beth. “But there’s a system we must navigate. You won’t get anywhere by going against it.”

Beth said nothing, twirling her fork in the spaghetti. She understood the system. She had fallen through its cracks. They would have to dig up the entire sidewalk to help her now. Nobody would do that.

Thanks for reading! Chapter Seven 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 in the space below. By subscribing, you receive exclusive access to the Prologue of Filling the Cracks not otherwise available. Please 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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