Chapter 16: Power, Strength, and Fear

It really wasn’t that difficult. Once basketball season started, I simply picked up Brian in the morning so he and Whitney could train during before-school fitness time. The days were long, but if she and Brian could withstand the pressure of training in the martial arts at the same time they were practicing basketball, I was willing to add a couple of hours to my day. It became my routine to drop the two at school at six-thirty and then join Dave for breakfast. Occasionally, that meant joining him in bed. Life was good.

Until a month before Whitney’s sixteenth birthday.

Being early risers, Whitney and I tended to be lights-out and asleep by ten. I’d picked up the galleys for a new book we were producing on home financing and sat in bed glancing at the formula for computing PITI just to see if my recollection was correct before I turned out the light. I think I must have let my eyes drift shut because the next thing I knew hands ripped my nightgown and I heard a growl of ‘wifely duties.’ The smell of booze and cigarettes was overpowering and I thought I must be dreaming and having a flashback to the days when I was married.

But when I opened my eyes, the cold reality of my ex-husband, Derek, was staring at me and reaching to maul my breasts.

I screamed. He hit me. I screamed some more. He hit me in the stomach and twisted an arm behind me as I struggled to reach the phone to dial 9-1-1.

“Hey, what’s going on. Leave my mother alone!” I heard Whitney yell as she came through my bedroom door. Derek jerked away from me to look at Whitney. I don’t think it registered that she was his daughter. He just saw another tall beautiful woman and reached to grab her.

I never knew.

I never knew what it really meant to have Whitney train with Master Cho. I saw how it made her confident, how she stood up straight and proud, how she performed on the basketball court. I never realized how strong and powerful and fast it made her.

I don’t think Derek knew what hit him. I heard bones break with every punch. And then she threw him out—through—my second-floor bedroom window. When the glass finished tinkling to the floor, Whitney was simply standing at the foot of my bed, staring at her hands. I jumped from my bed to comfort my daughter. I hugged her to me, even though she was taller than me now.

“You’d better call 9-1-1, Mommy,” she whispered. “I think I might have killed him.”

Police and ambulances arrived. I called Dave and he called a lawyer he knew. Whitney and I were transported to St. Joe Memorial. Derek was taken to the County Hospital under police guard. We were treated for minor trauma, bruises, and my arm was put in a sling to rest the shoulder he’d twisted. We were released to the police to make statements about what happened. The lawyer conferred with the police and a detective came into the room holding a copy of the doctor’s report and his crime scene notes. We were exhausted. The attack had been before midnight and it was already getting light outside.

“We’ve established the point of entry was a broken lock on your back door, Ms. Anderson. I’m surprised the noise didn’t wake you. When did you first realize your home had been invaded?”

“When he grabbed me and jerked me toward him ripping my nightgown.”

“And your response?”

“I struggled and screamed. He hit me ... I don’t know how many times. I reached for the phone to call the police and he twisted my arm behind my back.”

“And that is when your daughter attacked him?”

“Just a minute, detective,” a new voice said. “Jackie Richmond, CPS. Do you have evidence that suggests this minor attacked someone?” She pushed the detective out of the way.

“A man has broken bones, a severe concussion, and was thrown out an upstairs window. I don’t think the wind blew him there,” the detective growled. “I’m not making accusations. It was a clear home defense. I just want to know what happened.”

“Then ask what happened without implying that you know something you don’t.” Jackie turned to Whitney and whispered to her. Whitney nodded. “Let’s just ask what happened, okay?” she said to the detective and my lawyer.

“Miss Anderson, will you tell us what happened from your perspective?” the detective asked with a nod to Jackie.

“Um ... I heard my mommy scream and jumped out of bed. I’d been pretty deep asleep and it took me a minute to realize what was going on when I walked into the room. I yelled something. That man grabbed my shoulder and ripped my T-shirt. I hit him. He fell out the window.”

“Has your father attacked you before?”

“I don’t know my father. He left when I was little.”

“So, you were not aware that it was your father, Derek Dewalt, that you...” Jackie held up a warning finger. “That you defended yourself from?”

“No, sir. Was that who it was? He was just a man hitting my mother and attacking me.” The detective hung his head and sighed but wasn’t finished.

“Whitney Anderson, are you trained in the martial arts?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Have you ever used them to defend yourself or in a fight of any kind before this?”

“No, sir.”

“I think that’s all.” The detective gathered up his notes and turned to leave the room. “It is clear that this was both home defense and self-defense. Your response might have been a bit extreme, but under the circumstances understandable. Unless Ms. Anderson’s ex-husband makes some other claims, I don’t believe Miss Anderson will be needed for more than a statement. We have contacted New Jersey authorities and Mr. Dewalt is in violation of parole by leaving the State. I’ll discuss our action with the District Attorney to determine what charges we will be able to file and make stick. I’m pretty sure that after the State of Indiana is through with him, there will be a prison term. Following that, he’ll be returned to New Jersey to serve out the rest of his term there. Thank you for your assistance, Ms. Richmond.” He left.

Jackie had a quick conference with the lawyer and he agreed to get us processed out as we talked to Jackie.

“In a case like this it is not uncommon for us to place a minor in protective custody until we can determine that it is safe for her to return home,” she said. “We need to be certain that the homelife is not abusive and that she is properly cared for. Whitney, do you feel you are in danger or under duress if you are returned to your mother’s guardianship and sent home?”

“I love my mommy,” she whimpered. “Please don’t make me go someplace else. I’m safe with her.”

“Based on Whitney’s demonstrated abilities to defend herself and her mother and based on the obvious love and care I see between the two of you, I am going to rule Whitney safe in the care of her mother and send you home. You’re both exhausted. If there is someone you can stay with for a few days while you get your home repaired, you should do so and get some rest.”

That was how, for the first time, Whitney and I spent the night at Dave’s house.

He was waiting for us when the attorney told us we could leave now and we drove to our little bungalow. Whitney and I were still in the hospital scrubs they’d given us to replace our torn nightwear. We changed clothes and Dave got the broken window boarded up. He went to Ace and got a hasp and padlock for the broken back door lock. There wasn’t much other damage to the house, though a glass had been knocked off the counter and broken on the floor. That was probably the result of the police and medics who came in.

I saw something change in Whitney. She spent the next day with Master Cho and the following morning with Brian. She became more serious as summer drew nearer. I often caught her just staring at her hands.

“Honey, don’t let what happened pull you down from your happiness. You could destroy what you have with your dating group and you don’t want that. Do you want to see the counselor Jackie recommended?”

“Mom, if the same thing happened today, I would respond the same way. I never realized exactly how powerful Brian’s mantra was. It scares me a little now that I know what it really means.” What? I expected her to quote Master Cho, she’d been doing that for years now. But her student? Her ‘boyfriend’?

“What is Brian’s mantra?” I asked.

“I will do whatever is necessary to protect and defend the ones I love.” I looked at my daughter with a new understanding. She wasn’t finished yet. “I’m sixteen now, Mom. When I turn seventeen, I will make love to Brian. Don’t go planning a wedding. Brian is the love of my life but I’m only one of his. I am teaching Brian because I love him. This is what I can do to protect and defend him.”