Come Back To Me (3 page)

Cara’s heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst. She was terrified, too terrified to do anything. She’d never heard Mr. Walker sound like this, so mean, so cruel. She felt more afraid than she’d felt the first time, because now she knew what he intended to do.

“Take your clothes off. Now.”

Too scared to cry, Cara did as she was told.

Christmas 1967

T
he office Christmas party was held at the Walkers’ home this year. Mr. and Mrs. Walker laid out cigarettes and ashtrays, silver bowls with mixed nuts, crackers with soft, smelly cheeses, but mostly they served drinks. Cara’s dad hired a bartender for the occasion. Cara sat with Karen in the den, both dressed in uncomfortable frilly party dresses, following their mothers’ admonitions that children should be seen and not heard. They watched and listened as the grownups told jokes and laughed out loud, their heads wreathed in smoke, hands holding tall, frosted glasses.

Cara’s dad drank martinis. She didn’t understand the appeal aside from the olive. He’d let her have a taste once; then chuckled when she grimaced and gagged. It tasted like poison. He said, “It’s an acquired taste.”

That’s what Mr. Walker said about what they’d been doing together, that it was an acquired taste, and one day she’d like it. Cara hated it and she hated Mr. Walker for making her do it.

Since the day Mr. Walker found her in the bedroom, Cara had become a recluse. She’d made her father put a lock on her bedroom door, and she spent every afternoon and evening shut up there. She refused to stay home alone. If her parents were going out, she insisted they take her to her grandmother’s house. If her mother disagreed, Cara threw a screaming fit until she gave in.

Cara’s mother even dragged her to the doctor. He couldn’t find a single thing wrong with her. He had no explanation for Cara’s stomachaches, her lackluster appetite, her noticeable weight loss or her sudden temper tantrums. He said “Cara is just a nervous child, and there isn’t much to do for her. She’ll grow out of it. Some children hit a rough patch during adolescence.”

Cara had no idea what adolescence was, nor did she care. The only thing that mattered to her was keeping out of Mr. Walker’s reach. She’d managed to avoid him for weeks. Of course that was because it was the holiday season and now the Walkers had a houseful of company.

This was the first time she’d entered the Walkers’ home in months. She and her mother had a big fight about the Christmas party. Cara had relented, agreeing to attend, but only because her father intervened.

She barely spoke to Karen anymore. In the mornings, Cara left early and walked to school, refusing a ride from Mrs. Walker, despite the fact that the junior high school was nearly three miles away. Everybody, including Karen, thought Cara was weird for walking. The only things that remained unchanged in her life were her grades. Cara was still a straight
A
student, the top student in her class. She could lose herself in school work. While reading or drawing, Cara could forget about Mr. Walker, even if only for a few hours.

Besides, Cara had noticed that the change in their friendship didn’t seem to bother Karen much. With her dance and gymnastics background, Karen was the first girl picked for the cheerleading squad. She’d made new friends, fun friends, who giggled, wore lipstick and were popular. Because of Karen, Cara was tolerated by that crowd, but she was considered too serious and too shy to be included in anything really fun.

Now the two girls sat together, an uncomfortable space between them. They spoke only when spoken to, watching the adults.

Karen yawned. “You want to come up to my room?”

Cara took a surreptitious look around for Mr. Walker. She didn’t want him following them upstairs. Since he didn’t appear to be nearby, she agreed.

When they reached Karen’s room, her friend flipped the door shut and flopped onto her bed.

“God, this is so boring. I don’t know how they stand it.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty boring,” agreed Cara. She perched on the edge of the other twin bed.

“What is up with you? You’ve changed so much. You’re quiet. You got a secret boyfriend or something?”

Cara was taken aback. “No, of course I don’t have a boyfriend. I don’t want a boyfriend.”

“Well I do.” Karen sighed. “Mark Smith is dreamy. Haven’t you noticed? He’s a ninth grader, but boy, I don’t care. He is so cute.”

“Mark Smith?”

“You know, the tall guy, blond hair, captain of the basketball team? C’mon Cara, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed him. All the girls notice him.”

Cara shook her head. “No, I guess I haven’t noticed him. I’ve been pretty busy with school.”

Karen looked at her, criticism in her eyes. “There’s more to school than school work, Cara. You used to be fun. What happened to you? We used to have a good time together. We used to tell each other everything. Now you hardly say two words to me.”

Cara just shrugged. She didn’t have an answer for Karen, at least not one she was willing to voice out loud.

Karen rolled onto her back. She raised her hands toward the ceiling, staring at the pink polish on her nails.

“I’d let Mark get to second base with me.” Her voice was so soft Cara almost missed the comment.

“Second base?” Cara was confused. “You don’t play baseball.”

Karen sat up and stared at her friend, a look of incredulity on her face. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what
going to second base
means?”

Cara nodded her head. “It means when you play ball and run to second base, like when we play softball.”

Karen laughed out loud. “No you idiot! It means when you let a boy touch your boobs!”

Cara felt that awful pain in her stomach, the same pain she got whenever she saw Mr. Walker, whenever he touched her.

“Don’t you know anything about this stuff? You know, like first base, second base, third base, going all the way?”

Cara shook her head. Her mouth felt dry as a desert. She was afraid to ask, but equally afraid not to.

“You know, sex,” said Karen, “Don’t you know anything about sex?”

Cara shook her head again.

“You are unbelievable! You mean your mother didn’t tell you anything about it? Haven’t you talked to any of the kids at school? Did you even start your period yet?”

“My period?”

“Oh my gosh.” Karen laughed out loud. “When you bleed every month, your period. Women bleed every month, something about ovulation and all that.” Karen flopped back down. “I use tampons. Rebecca explained how to use them in the girls’ bathroom at school. I don’t use those stupid pads my mom buys.”

Cara didn’t know what a tampon was, but from watching her mother she knew about the pads and the monthly bleeding. Suddenly something clicked. She wanted to know exactly what Karen was talking about. She was almost desperate to know. There was a link between what Karen was talking about and what Mr. Walker had been doing to her for months.

“Um, no, I don’t know. My mom’s never talked about any of this stuff. I don’t, I mean, I haven’t started my-my period yet. I don’t know what a tampon is.”

“These.” Karen rolled over and opened her bottom drawer. She pulled out a box and with a careless motion, tossed it at Cara.

Cara held the box in her hand, cautious.

“What are you afraid of?” Karen laughed again. “It won’t bite!”

As if she was entering the door to another realm, Cara pried open the cardboard lid. Pulling out a tampon, she turned it round and round in her hand. Unfolding the directions and illustrations, she gazed down at the line drawings and things began to click. She felt like Helen Keller, the day she remembered the word
water,
and everything Annie Sullivan had been trying to teach her suddenly made sense. It wasn’t difficult for Cara to make the connection between where a tampon went and where Mr. Walker put
that
part of his body. Her stomach began to burn.

“Karen, what do you mean first base and second base and all that? What does
sex
mean?”

“You are such an innocent.” Karen giggled. “I can’t believe you don’t know this stuff.” She reached into the same drawer and pulled out a booklet. “Here, read this. My mom gave it to me last year.”

Cara’s hand shook as she took the booklet from Karen. She stole a glance at her friend’s face. Fortunately Karen didn’t seem to notice her discomfort.

“First base is kissing,” Karen explained in a grown up voice. “Sometimes it’s French kissing. That’s when the boy sticks his tongue in your mouth. I don’t know why it’s called French kissing. Maybe they do it that way in France or something. Anyway that’s first base. Second base is when you let a boy touch your boobs, like I said. Third base is, well, third base is when a boy sticks his hands down your pants. I’m not exactly sure what happens because, you know, I’ve never done it and I don’t know anyone who has. Fourth base is when you go all the way.”

“Go all the way?”

“Yeah, um . . .” Karen gave her a knowing smile. “When the boy sticks his thing into you. Married people do it. Well, usually it’s married people who do it, but sometimes high school kids do it. They’re not supposed to. Rebecca told me that some of the older kids have gone all the way. It’s how you get pregnant.”

Cara clutched the booklet to her chest. She felt short of breath and the room seemed to spin around her. This is what Mr. Walker had been doing to her, sticking his
thing
into her. If Karen’s explanation was true, he wasn’t supposed to do that. She wasn’t supposed to let him do that. Even though she hadn’t eaten anything all day, Cara felt like she was going to throw up. With a stiff motion, she rose from the bed and headed towards the adjoining bathroom.

“Are you okay?”

Cara sat down on the edge of the tub, trying to will the nausea away.

“Yeah, I haven’t been feeling well lately.”

Karen moved to stand in the doorway. She looked a little uncomfortable. “You do look pale, and you’re really skinny. My mom said you’d been sick a lot. Is that why you haven’t been over here much?”

“Um-hm . . . yeah, I just haven’t been feeling well enough to go out.”

“Do you want me to get you anything? A pop or something?”

“No, no thanks. I just need to sit here for a few minutes. Usually it goes away after a while.”

“Okay, well, I’m going to get something to eat. You sure you don’t want anything?”

“I’m sure. Thanks anyway. I’ll be right down.”

Karen turned and vanished into the hallway. Cara listened until her footsteps faded away, then she got up and closed the door to the bathroom, locking it. Cara’s gaze fell on the booklet still clutched in her hand. Her palms were sweating so much she left smudges on the cover. She closed the lid to the toilet, sat down, and opened up the booklet. She read it from cover to cover, understanding at last what she had done with Mr. Walker.

Cara sat in silence, appalled and humiliated. She had done something awful. She knew there was no one, absolutely no one, she could tell about this. Nobody would believe her and even if they did, they would despise her. The kids at school would never speak to her again. The teachers would treat her like she was trash. Karen would hate her. Mrs. Walker would hate her. Her own parents would never forgive her. The only thing she could do was make sure it never, ever happened again.

Cara put her ear against the door, listening for any noise in Karen’s room. She didn’t hear anything, but that didn’t mean Mr. Walker wasn’t out there, waiting. She lay on the floor, turning her head sideways so she could look under the door. As far as she could tell, the room was empty. Cara left the bathroom and stuffed the booklet in Karen’s bottom drawer, along with the box of tampons. She glanced out into the hallway.

Downstairs people laughed and told jokes; enjoyed their cocktails. She could hear ice clink in the glasses. Smoke from their cigarettes wafted upwards, creating a gray-blue haze that swirled into spirals along the high ceiling.

The Christmas party meant nothing. It was mere noise. The people there meant nothing to her. She didn’t even want to go home. She wanted to vanish completely. Disappear. Drift unnoticed like the smoke eddies above. Cara stood at the railing for a long time before she made a decision. Without catching anyone’s eye, she walked down the stairs and straight out the front door, opening and closing it behind her without a sound. Her grandmother lived a few miles away. Cara decided she would walk to her house tonight. She didn’t know what else to do.