Chapter 4

Even after almost four years, her heart still felt the sorrow of that day. She exited off the belt line and turned onto the avenue which would eventually take her home. Home, she thought. What is that? Her childhood had been no precursor of what adult life would bring. She had been a happy child from a loving if lower-middle income family. Most of her recollections of childhood were happy images of time spent with loving, caring parents.

How very different life had become when Allan had asked her to the prom. Knowing he was prone to drink even then, she had accepted because he was good looking and a linebacker for the high school football team. The sights, smells and feelings came rushing back as she momentarily relived that night; the dance, Allan slipping away to drink with some buddies, returning in a drunken abusive state, insisting they leave even though they had only danced once and the evening was young. She remembered the short drive to a secluded spot where Allan, despite her initial protests became argumentative and lewdly told her to 'put out or get out'. She remembered trying to open the door, being jerked back into the car, strangled to unconsciousness, and awakening to find herself in the back seat, nude and being raped. She had no recollection of the moment of losing her virginity. He had even robbed her of that. He didn't care. He simply wanted the conquest, another trophy to brag about, and his own sexual gratification. He used no protection and made no attempt to withdraw and so had impregnated her. Too ashamed to tell even her parents, she had been filled with trepidation, but optimistically hopeful when her pregnancy test was confirmed and Allan said he would marry her. He didn't even propose, she thought, just told her he would not burden her with a bastard.

With marriage, however, his drinking got worse instead of better as Allan seemed to fit the stereotype of the small town football hero who seems lost in the real world of post graduation. She did everything she knew to help and be supportive including the suggestion of a counselor but his pride precluded his ever facing his problems or even acknowledging them. Jobs never lasted and when they didn't, she was usually the one who paid the price. What started as an occasional slap, soon degenerated, after Kyle was born, into full scale beatings, which had twice landed her in the hospital.

She had thought that despite the deteriorating relationship with Allan, she would at least have her son as comfort. Yet, when Kyle leaned to his father, despite finding no real affection there, Kerri was heartbroken. Despite her continued and best efforts, the boy, while never a behavior problem, was also never the close, loving child for which she had hoped either. He shared activities with her; going places and doing things, but he never truly shared himself with her. It was always Allan, whose attitude toward the boy varied between tolerant and resentful, that he sought. When he was hurt, had a question or was excited about one of his Little League ball games which Allan hadn't even attended, it was the father who he sought out, not the devoted mother whose heart grew sadder and sadder as she felt him growing away from her.

She turned again, this time onto the street where she and Kyle now lived. The small rental frame house was even more modest than that which they had shared with Allan. Neither of them had adjusted well, she thought, to Allan's leaving. She had grown despondent, despite the absence of the beatings, for as she tried to shift her entire affection to her son, Kyle steadily withdrew. He, of course, blamed her for Allan leaving and somehow convinced himself that she had also somehow manipulated the father into abandoning his son as well. Coupled with his self consciousness about the ugly scar across his face which sometimes made him the butt of cruel jokes at school, it was enough to cause lack of respect and ridicule to turn to abject hatred.

While slowing for a stop light, she wondered what might have been if she hadn't been so despondent that day after saying good bye to Kevin. What if, instead of going directly to her bedroom and crying until Kyle arrived home from school, she had remembered what lay in the bathroom wastebasket? Would it have made a difference? But feeling as she did about the baby inside of her, would it, could it, have really ended any differently?

She remembered fixing dinner and then making the excuse of not feeling well and retreating to the bedroom where she finally fell into a fitful sleep. But her most intense recollection was of what happened next.

She was jerked to consciousness by the pain, as a huge powerful hand dragged her by the hair off the bed and onto the floor. She was thrown onto her back and before her dazed eyes could even adjust, Allan was astride of her waist, holding the pregnancy indicator inches from her face.

"SO YOU REALLY DID LET THE NIGGERS BREED YOU!" he shouted as he threw the offending piece of plastic across the room and caught her cheek with a vicious backhand.

"Allan, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happ..."

Three more backhands, this time with the fist partially closed as his knuckles made contact with her face.

"DIDN'T MEAN FOR IT TO HAPPEN? HELL, YOUR OWN SON SAID YOU BEGGED 'EM, SAID YOU SPREAD YOURSELF ESPECIALLY WIDE FOR THAT YOUNG BUCK! IS THAT TRUE, SON?

Kerri hadn't even realized her son was there, standing just inside the doorway. She would later learn it was he who had found the test indicator and gone immediately to his father.

"Everybody heard her, Dad. She screamed, "Breed me nigger! Breed me!" She was begging him for it!"

As another half dozen blows rained upon her, Kerri knew if was no use to deny her own words. She also knew she would never be allowed to explain, so, instead of resisting in any way, she simply went limp enduring blow after blow until Allan was momentarily winded. Blood was flowing freely from her nose and lip.