I was walking past the bathroom. I happened to see my sister standing in front of the mirror combing her hair. So being of sound mind and body, I walked into the bathroom and took her by the hair and started shaking her head up and down. After a few loud screams she started to throw punches. I was hit first in the left arm, then in the chest and I was kicked in the right knee. I then started to return the punches. I hit her first in the stomach, then in the left shoulder and the right ear. Then she bit me in the left hand. I screamed and quickly put my hands around her neck and began to strangle her. Her face started to turn red so I let go of her neck. Then like a flash she stomped on my right foot and pushed me to the wall. I then took my right hand and raked it across her face. She screamed real loud and ran out of the bathroom crying. I then proceeded to my bedroom which was about six feet away. About two minutes later my sister came to my room. She kicked open the door and in her hands lay a 24-inch baseball bat. Her eyes were red as fire. She walked over to where I was sitting and in a loud, deep voice she said, “You want to play some baseball?” The End.
As I finished reading over the first paper, I handed it back to Doctor Lerner. She returned it to her briefcase.
“The teacher gave you an ‘A’ for imagination; how did that make you feel?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Simon did this fight between your sister and yourself actually take place?”
“No, we never fought like that,” I said crossing my right leg over my left, trying to get more comfortable.
“Do you remember what prompted you to write such a story?”
“I don’t know, sometimes, goofy crap just pops into my head. I’m not sure where it comes from,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. I started to read over the other paper when Doctor Lerner reached over, and pushed it down on my lap.
“We’ll get to the other one in a moment; for now, I want to stay with your early years, if that’s all right?”
“Fine by me.”
“Did anything happen during that time period that still bothers you to this day?”
I lowered my head; looking into her eyes now made me uncomfortable.
“Simon, please, tell me what happened. Trust me; I’m not here to harm you or judge you in any way. Please be honest, even if it brings up past emotional stress, because you can release those old, negative feelings, and move on with your life.” Her words were filled with compassion and love.
“Something did happen, but it wasn’t during school time,” I slowly began, and I felt she really wanted to help me. So I took a chance and decided to open up, to reach deep into that dark, emotional place where I locked away the sad memories of that time.
“When was it?” she asked, patting my knee with her soft, plump hand.
“During summer break, not long after school let out.”
“Simon, take a deep breath, and let it out slowly…can you do that for me?”
I did as she suggested. “My mother dropped me off at my aunt, and uncle’s house. They were out of town, but one of my cousins who stayed home agreed to watch me while she went shopping with her friends. Mom told him she’d pick me up late that evening. I saw her give him ten dollars to baby-sit me. He was seventeen, and I was twelve at the time. After she drove off, we played some games, watched some TV. Later on, he had me come to his bedroom. Said he had a special game we were going to play.” I stopped. I became embarrassed. I could feel my face flushing red.
“Simon, did your cousin sexually abuse you?”
Lowering my head, I began to cry softly before I answered, “Yes, he got me naked on his bed, tied me up and sodomized me.”
“All right, Simon, it’s okay.” Doctor Lerner placed her hand back on my knee, and gently squeezed my leg. “Did you become sexually aroused during this ordeal?”
I flushed red again as I answered, “Yes, I got an erection.”
“Please continue, you’re in a safe place now, don’t be afraid or ashamed.”
“Ah, most of the time he was talking to me.”
“What was he saying?”
“Stuff about how I was getting stronger, and that I was becoming a man. How brave I was, and that this was the path to manhood. I remembered I stopped crying. I wanted to be a man. People don’t treat kids very well sometimes, and his talking was working. I did want to be a man, and he said men don’t cry, only babies cry. Made me swear not to tell anyone, especially my mother. Said God would be watching me to see if I broke my promise. And if I did, I’d feel his wrath.”
“You’re doing well, please continue,” she said patting my leg again.
“He wrapped his arms around me, and gave me a hug. Then he said it was time for ice cream, and he held my hand as he led me into the kitchen. He said I was a man now; I could shoot his 9mm pistol out in the woods. I loved that.”
“Did you inform your mother what had taken place when she returned to pick you up?” She asked.
“No, I never told anyone till now,” I said.
“Did your cousin ever molest you after that episode?”
“Yes, he watched me several more times during that summer.”
“Did your male cousin ever perform oral sex on you, or you on him, Simon?”
“No, men don’t do that, only queers, he said,” I blurted out, not wanting to be judged.
“How do you feel toward this cousin now that you have reached adulthood?”
“After that summer, he went his way, and I went mine.”
“As a young boy, do you remember what type of sexual fantasies you were experiencing then?”
“Ah, I fantasized about women in bondage, tied up naked.”
“How did you come to see women tied up in the nude?”
“I found one of those cardboard barrels with steel bands wrapped around it in our old garage. I pulled the lid off, and it was full of these old detective magazines. They had pictures of half naked women who were tied up in different ways on the covers. Made me so horny, I’d jack-off to them.”
The cassette recorder clicked off. Doctor Lerner opened the compartment, and flipped the tape over, then closed the compartment. She pressed the record button as she picked up her note pad. “Now then, I’d like to come back to this at a later date. Let’s move on for now, shall we, Simon?”
“Sure, fine with me, you’re the Doctor.”
“I wish to turn to your high school years, is that all right with you?”
“Yes,” I said shrugging my shoulders, as if I cared.
“How did you feel about high school?” She continued.
“I hated it. The students there let me know real quick where I fit in the pecking order. I was poor white trash as far as they were concerned. We were country folk, and our house was one hundred and nine years old at the time. It was falling apart; we had no indoor bathroom, just an old white outhouse in the back yard. Only one sink in the kitchen which drew water directly from an old well. No hot water, just cold well water. Pipe always froze in winter, so we tied a rope to a plastic bucket, and dipped it straight out of the well. Mom boiled any hot water we needed on an old gas-burning stove. Only heat came from an old pot-belly stove in the kitchen, and a few space heaters in the bedrooms. We burned coal in the pot-belly stove, sometimes newspapers or wood. We had no AC, except for a small window unit in our parent’s bedroom. Hotter than hell in the summer and colder than a witches-tit in winter…ah…sorry, I didn’t mean to sound…”
“That’s quite all right, Simon, just speak as you normally do, I’m not
offended.”
“Our house was infested with roaches,
and spiders, but it was home. When I was
growing up, I didn’t know what poverty was until I reached high school. Wearing second-hand clothes and bathing once
a week didn’t seem so bad to me. But
those well-to-do kids let me know real quick where I fit in,” I said in an
angry tone.
“Simon, how did you feel at that point in your life?”
“Ah, well, I guess my self-esteem was pretty low. I didn’t like the others, and they didn’t like me.”
“Who gave out the discipline, your mother or father?”
“Mainly Mom spanked us for the small stuff, and Dad dealt with the big stuff.”
“How often did your father need to punish you?”
“Only twice,” I replied candidly.
“Only twice? You must have been really good?” She said fishing for more information.
“I don’t know about that.”
“The first time, tell me about what you did, and what was his punishment?”
“I was fourteen, and he told me to sit down, and read the Bible from cover to cover. Gave me a week to do this. Then we were going to discuss anything I didn’t understand. I was pretty cocky then, so I ripped the front cover and back covers off the Bible he gave me. I was dumb enough to present him the two covers, and told him I didn’t care for any of it. Big mistake to say that to a God-fearing minister. He lost it, grabbed me by the back of my neck, and took me to the old garage. He jerked my pants down, and whipped me with his belt. Must have smacked me twenty times. Made me kneel, and bow my head as he knelt beside me, praying out loud for God to forgive my sin I had committed against his holy book. After awhile, he simply stood, told me to go to my room, and reflect on what I had done. Which meant no supper that night.”
“Simon, what did you do to get punished a second time by your father?”
“I had just turned seventeen, and I was hanging out with one of my friends, the kind Dad didn’t approve of. As you know, I didn’t care much for religion. My friend told me he didn’t believe in Jesus, so I called him a liar, and told him I had a test that would tell if he did or didn’t believe. He agreed to take the test, and he failed it.”
Doctor Lerner leaned a bit closer, giving me her full attention. “What was this test?”
“I called it the ‘F.J.C.’ test. I told him, all he had to do to prove he didn’t really believe was to repeat three words out loud. The words were ‘Fuck Jesus Christ.’ He couldn’t do it, which told me, deep down, he really did believe. My mistake was that my father overheard our conversation. It was like he just came out of the darkness, and grabbed me. Back to the old garage again, but this time he laid the belt on pretty heavy. I had big red welts on my back and ass. Yet this time, after the praying, he turned, and stared at me for the longest time. Then he spoke…said he was deeply, and profoundly ashamed of me.”
“How did that affect you?”
“At the time I couldn’t have cared less. But, later on, when he died, I felt very sad that I couldn’t measure up to his expectations. That I didn’t try harder to make him proud of me.”
“Our time is nearly up, so let’s move on for the moment. Simon, I’d like to discuss the second paper your mother gave me; it pertains to a speech you recited in your freshman speech class. ‘Satan’s Revenge’ is the title you gave it.” She handed the paper to me so I could read over it to refresh my memory.