Entry #521203, added on 06-28-08 @ 7:44 pm EDT
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| Part One - Chapter Seven: I'll Always Be Your Friend | Entry #521203 |
Chapter Seven
Shortly after Les got me home, Kay took Benji away without a word. Kathy comforted me and convinced me to tell her everything. I broke down when it came to Benji, and Kathy cried too.
Devastated, that night in bed, I thought about everything: Benji, the night before, her crying and the blood – us trying to wash it all away; the church, kneeling to pray, and more.
Benji’s brother spent a couple of weeks in the hospital. I don’t remember the details of all his injuries. No one said much to me about it, but I caught bits and pieces of conversations.
I heard Danny say to a group of friends, “When that punk comes home we’re going to mess him up again, right guys?” For some reason, the question seemed more like a command.
I don’t know if what he said had much to do with me at that point. Maybe they were just mad at all the wrongs that had fallen on them in their lives.
The next week, I heard Kathy ask Mom why she never called the police about Benji.
Mom didn’t look Kathy in the eye like she normally did. “I don’t even know if it’s all true and I don't want the police involved over the beating Les gave Brian. Les could go to a reform school or something.”
Mom kept looking at a magazine with a frown deep enough to wrinkle her forehead.
Kathy gave her a hard stare. “Mom, Les is only thirteen years old, and Brian is nineteen. I doubt they’d do anything at all. And besides, why didn't Brian ever tell who beat him? It's because they'd find out what he tried with Lisa. And if he's tried that with Lisa, what do you think he's done to Benji? Lisa's not lying, Mom. We need to tell someone.”
Mom didn’t respond, and I never heard anyone talk about it again. All I know is my brother protected me, and I loved him for it.
School started just two weeks later in early September. I missed Benji and tried to find ways to see her, but rarely did and that was only at school, never on the playground. She wouldn't look at me, and hardly spoke. She missed school a lot and eventually stopped attending at all.
A few months later, in December of 1974, on a cloudy day that saw sleet and freezing rain, a policeman came to the door and spoke with Kathy. He whispered something to her, and she stepped outside and closed the door behind her.
She returned several minutes later with tears in her eyes.
Frightened, I asked, “Kathy, what’s wrong?“
Kathy looked at me as tenderly as I had ever seen. “Lisa, those cops wanted to question me about Benji. They said her sister told them she stayed with us a lot, and they wanted to know if she ever said much about her brother.“
“But why? And why are you crying?“ I sensed something was terribly wrong.
“Honey, they found Benji in a dumpster. She’s not with us anymore.“
“What do you mean, Kathy? How can she not be with us if they found her? Is she okay?“
“No, baby she’s not. She’s gone to be with Jesus. She’s dead. They’ve arrested her brother.“
No one could console me. My mom told me I was only a child, and nothing I could have done would have saved Benji. But, in my mind I felt that God should have looked after her.
I told myself he didn’t protect her as I had been led to believe, and I remained confused; because nothing I saw nor heard seemed to fit what I was told on the day I was “saved.” I felt so guilty, and maybe to avoid that feeling, I convinced myself that God had failed her.
David tucked me in bed that night and held me close. “It’s gonna be all right, Lisa.” He placed my doll beside me and gave her a kiss, too.
I asked him, “You wouldn’t hurt me like Brian hurt Benji, would you David?”
David hugged me, and tears formed in his eyes.
He said, “No, never worry about that. And I won’t let anyone else, either. Go to sleep now.”
I rolled over and tried to hold back my tears. It was then I lost trust for boys and men.
As much as I loved them and as much as they protected me, I even lost a little for my brothers.
Sometime during the early morning hours I fell asleep.
I awoke just after dawn to Benji‘s voice. I even thought she held my hand.
She said, “Lisa, I’ll always be your friend. Thank you for being mine.”
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© Copyright 2008 L. A. Powell (UN: lisapowell at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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