Content Warning: This chapter deals with the subject and details of a sexual assault.
The house was always filled with other people.
Lisa’s stepson Paul was helpful but was lost in the woes of being young and misunderstood. Her roommate Frank was a tall thin man with a long goatee and coke bottle lenses in his glasses so that it looked his eyes were mere like shiny green beetles. His hair was frazzled and I wondered if he exited merely on coffee and cigarettes. Lisa’s boyfriend Carl visited fairly often and I wasn’t sure how well they got along. It looked to me like he was trying to hold on to flame and wasn’t sure what to do with the bright fire.
There were always people coming over and they would stay for a coffee or sit with Lisa in her backyard smoking cigarettes or pot. Sometimes, song would break out when someone started to sing, or the music of laugher blessed the air. Lisa’s home was a place of freedom and there were a lot of people that felt as comfortable there as I did. Her home was an ever-moving tapestry of people, and it was hard finding a moment alone, if at all.
I read a lot and ventured into the solace of words to get some private time. I found comfort in books by Charles de Lint, Christopher Moore, Anne Rice, Stephen King and Tanya Huff. My reading tastes had no boundaries, and I read everything that I could. When I read, I could find solace in a world that held so much, and I didn’t know how to find my place in it.
If the days were filled with people, the evenings were more so. Paul would bring by his girlfriends, Frank sometimes brought someone over and if Carl was staying the night, I would sleep on the couch so that Lisa and Carl could share her bedroom. I tried to cocoon myself as much as I could. I spent a lot of time with the other people that came by Lisa’s, but I cherished the moments that I spent alone within another world contained in pages of a book, or staring up at the night sky and wondering about the journey that the stars had taken so that we could see them.
One evening, Lisa and I actually found ourselves alone. The sky was dark, and the night was warm. We were both smoking a cigarette and reading our books in the light from the kitchen. The air was warm against my skin, and I relished the silence of the night, only broken by the sound of a nearby mosquito.
I could feel Lisa’s eyes on me and I turned to face her. I could tell from the set of her gaze that she was about to ask a very serious question. She had that kind of face that always told me where the conversation was about to turn. I admired that about her. Lisa never thought to hide anything of herself from me.
“I’m going to ask you a serious question and I hope you aren’t offended. I know we’ve talked about it a little here and there, but never full out in the open. I called you a warrior witch when we first met. What battles have you fought? Who drew first blood?”
I shook my head, watching a stray wisp of smoke disappear in front of my eyes. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“You don’t date. You just sleep around, and you don’t look for anything more, or you choose guys that you know are bad for you.” I’d been wondering when she would bring this up. I had told her about what had happened with Shades. “What gives?”
I think it was those two simple words which were able to break open the dam that I had kept under lock and key for such a long time. In that moment, I took a breath and looked at the smoke rising from my cigarette as it floated into the sky and away from me.
“It’s easier that way.” I told her. “I came out of the closet when I went to university, did I ever tell you that? I finally felt like I was free to be myself away from everyone that had know me and had expectations of the way I should live my life.”
I couldn’t look at Lisa. I knew that if I did, the spell would be broken and the words would dry up, too afraid to be seen as well as heard. I knew that if I wanted the words to come out, I had to look away. “It was the first guy I ever went on a date with. The first date went well. He took me out for coffee. His name was Mickey, and he was hairdresser. We talked about art and creativity, and we really clicked.”
Lisa didn’t anything, but she put her hand on my right knee to comfort me. In her own way, Lisa was letting me know that it was okay, that my words were safe here shared between the two of us and the comfort of the night. “He picked me up for a second date and he took me to his friend Wendy’s place. He kept giving me beer to drink and I was having fun. The fun took a hiccup when I blacked out for a bit. I remember Mickey picking me up off the floor and he took me into the hallway to walk it off.”
I could feel Lisa’s hand getting warmer. I took comfort from that warmth, and it made the cold I felt from that long ago night that I still carried with me lessen a little bit. It was as if she were trying to fight against the ferocity of the memory with the power of her touch. “I don’t know how, but we ended up in the stairwell. He was kissing my neck and then he turned me around, so I was facing the wall and pulled down my pants. I was so out of it, but I had enough sense to ask him what he was doing. He told me he was going to fuck me.”
I let those words hang in the air for a moment. I had never told anyone this before, had never spoken of what had happened to send me into the downward spiral that I had went through during my time at university. I hadn’t talked to any of the therapists or my friends and family. I held onto the shame so that it was mine alone.
“Afterward, we walked back into the apartment, and everyone was whistling at us and I couldn’t help grinning. It was only later that night as I lay in bed in my dorm room that I realized I had been raped.”
I heard the click of a lighter and Lisa passed me another cigarette. Mine had gone to ash. I flicked the butt into the ashtray and took the new cigarette. I drew in a breath of smoke and let it go free. I knew that tears marked my face, I could feel the wetness on my cheeks. Lisa squeezed my knee.
“You really have to meet my friend Francis. He’s gay and he was a rape victim, too. Sometimes, it’s good to talk about what happened to you with someone else who understands what it’s like, you know? You can help each other heal.”
We were silent after that with only the sound of the mosquitoes and the meow of a stray cat from across the street to fill the absence of sound.
Spirit of the Wolf 