Chapter 2: The Attack

We spent the next two weeks cementing our friendship. By unspoken mutual agreement, we put romance on the back burner while we simply got to know each other better. I had fallen for her and fallen hard the first time I saw her brilliant smile in that classroom. Actually I think I had fallen for her the first time I saw her in her ghost-girl guise. Right from the beginning I felt drawn to her by an irresistible force. Something deep inside me told me that we were destined to be together for all time. We made for each other. Now, I never was any kind of a mystic. I never had believed in love at first sight or soul-mates or any of that kind of thing, but when the feeling hit me, it was undeniable. Although we didn't talk about it at first, I was reasonably sure that Julie felt the same way about me. One thing I was totally sure of--the feelings of lust and longing I always felt when I was with her were not leading me astray. I genuinely liked this girl and the more I got to know her, the better I liked her.

After our first date, Julie abandoned what she called her 'battle armor'. She stopped using the heavy makeup that she had been skillfully applying to give her face the sunken and sallow look she had when I first saw her. She laid aside her ugly black-rimmed glasses, which she didn't need for vision correction, and stopped using whatever she had been putting in her hair to change her beautiful waves of golden-brown tresses to a stringy mess of mousy brown. She threw away the shapeless mother-hubbard dresses that covered herself from head to toe and began dressing more normally. She didn't put herself on display, though. Mostly, she wore attractive sweaters or sweatshirts and loose fitting, comfortable blue jeans.

I quickly found out that Julie was very smart. She wasn't scary-smart like Lisa Holbrooke, but her intelligence and education put her way beyond what the rather poor school in her small home town had to offer. Like Lisa, she was mainly self-educated. She spent most of her time in school taking college level classes via the Internet. I asked her once, why she stayed here instead of going to a university. She told me, "That never felt right to me. I don't want to be the stereotypical kid-genius in a group of college students. I don't think it's time for me to leave home yet. Sometimes I felt like I was waiting for something, but I didn't know what."

Then she gave me a tender smile and said, "Now, I think I know what I was waiting for."

We spent almost all of our spare time together. We were practically inseparable. After school, Julie had to work in the store, taking over for her mother. I joined her there. I'd help out any way I could, but mostly we'd talk. Although Julie was outwardly cheerful and open, there was something darker still hidden inside her psyche. A memory of something horrible that had happened to her a few months earlier. I wanted more than anything to help ease her pain, but I decided that in this, as in the romance area, the way to approach her was dead slow. I had to wait until she trusted me enough to come to me and tell me what she wanted.

I did talk to her mother about it. It probably seems strange for a boy to talk to a woman about how to seduce her daughter, so maybe I should describe her a little bit. Sally Norton was a truly beautiful woman. She looked so much like Julie that, barring the age difference, they could have been identical twins. Although I never asked how old she was, it was easy enough to figure out from what Julie had told me about her. She had married at eighteen, right out of high school. She and her husband had lived at her parent's house for a few years while they accumulated enough cash to make their move west. Julie was the same age as me, therefore her mother was thirty-six or seven.

I liked Julie's mother a lot. She was friendly and easy to be around. As Julie had told me, she was a shrewd business woman and an incredible judge of character. I had watched her many times as she gently questioned a customer about local condition so skillfully that he didn't even know he was being quizzed. After the customer had left, she would write down what she had learned in a log book that she kept under the store's counter. Over the years, the store had become a clearing house of information--information was as much Sally Norton's stock-in-trade as the high quality sporting goods she sold. Although Blainesville was a minuscule, almost non-existent settlement in the middle of a frozen wasteland, it was surrounded by some of the most spectacular mountains and some of the best hunting, fishing and camping in the world.

Julie and her mother had a very unusual, some might say unique, relationship. Julie considered her mother to be her best friend. As Julie had warned me on our first date, she told her mother everything that happened to her. I saw it between them right from the start. I never saw the lines of communication between two people so open--especially between a mother and her teen-age daughter. As I got to know them better, I realized that the bond between them was so close, they knew each other so well that it sometimes almost seemed that they were psychic. They could convey volumes of information to one another with a word, a glance or a gesture. Mrs. Norton didn't, however, fall into the trap of neglecting her parental duties to be a friend to Julie. She was always ready with a word of advice, a firm guiding hand or, if needed, strong discipline. The latter was very seldom necessary. Julie had a good head on her shoulders and a firm sense of ethics.

I didn't learn this about them in the first few days, of course. It took months until I began to understand the depth of their relationship. I never did understand it completely. What I did understand, though, was that Mrs. Norton welcomed me into her home right from the start. She was a wise and kind woman with a heart of gold. She was very easy to talk to. There was, however, a core of steel behind that kind interior. She was not a woman you would want to cross. There was something about her that told me she'd be a deadly and relentless enemy. I realized that what Julie had told me about herself the first day we met also applied to her mother. The way to deal with her was with direct and brutal honesty, no matter what the cost--the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

This was why, when I was trying to decide how to advance my bid for Julie's heart, I decided to consult her mother. The opportunity presented itself just a few days after our first date. I was sitting in the store, chatting with Julie, when she excused herself suddenly and went rushing through the door in the back of the store that led to the adjoining living quarters. A few minutes later, Mrs. Norton came into the store and said to me, "Julie's not feeling well. You may as well go home now."

I asked, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

She answered, "No, I don't think so."

I asked, "Mrs. Norton, could I talk to you a minute?"

"Certainly."

"She's up in her room, crying, isn't she?"

"How did you know?"

"It doesn't take a genius. I've seen this happen a couple of times before. Although she tries her best to hide it, that girl is hurting badly. I'm in love with her, Mrs. Norton, madly, hopelessly and desperately in love with her. I don't understand how that can happen so quickly, but it's true. I absolutely hate seeing her like this. I want to help her but there doesn't seem to be anything I can do."

She said, "I know you love her. I knew it the first time you walked into the store and she introduced you to me. I could see it in your eyes. You look at her the same way my husband used to look at me. She loves you too, you know. I'm not sure if she realizes it yet, but she does. I couldn't be happier. I think you are good for her and I think she's good for you. You have some problems of your own, don't you?"

"Well, yes. But the worst one is, what can I do to help Julie?"

"Give her time. Give her space. She's a lot stronger than she looks right now. She has a good head on her shoulders. She'll come around. In the meantime, just do what you're doing now. Spend time with her. Get to know each other. Let her know you're there for her if she needs you."

I said, "I'm glad to hear you say that. It's pretty much what I decided myself."

She said, "I don't think anybody's going to come in today. How would you like to come inside? We can get comfortable and have a good chat. I think it would do us both some good. I'll close up early."

I said, "I'd like that."

She locked up and led me through the door in the back to their living quarters. Her house was two story, with the bedrooms upstairs. It was small, but tidy and comfortable looking. We walked down a hallway and into a small room that was furnished with a couple of comfortable looking chairs, a couch and coffee table and a television. Two walls of the room were completely taken up with bookshelves. I sat in one of the chairs and she took the couch. I asked, "What happened to her Mrs. Norton?"

She asked, "How much do you know?"

I said, "Well, Lisa Holbrooke told me that she was attacked by a madman, but wouldn't tell me any more. Was she raped?"

"No, thank the heavens for small mercies. Somehow she managed to escape before he got to that point. I don't think I want to tell you more. It would be better if she did, if she decides to."

"All right, tell me this. What was she like before?"

"Well, she was always a bit of a loner, and somewhat of a tomboy. She was reasonably well-adjusted though, and not too unhappy. She was always a good girl and I didn't worry about her much. I was pretty much the same way before I met my husband."

"What did she like to do?"

"She was always very studious and loved books. When she wasn't doing anything else, she'd always have her nose buried in one. She liked the outdoors, hiking, camping and hunting. Did she ever tell you about her Uncle Charley?"

"No."

"He's my husband's brother. Shortly after my husband died, he moved out to Fairview."

Fairview was another small town on the lava plains about two hundred miles west of Blainesville. she went on. "I never liked him much, but Julie adores him. He's her father figure. Somewhat of a replacement for the father she never knew. He's been very busy and hasn't been around for the last couple of years, but he used to show up here three or four times a year and take her for week long camping trips in the mountains."

"Is there anything else she likes? I'm trying to find something we could do together. I've never been much of an outdoors man, although I'd be willing to learn. We can't do much along those line until the weather warms up though."

She hesitated, and then said, "Well... Oh yes. She loves music. Not the garbage they play on the radio these days, she likes folk songs and old country music. She'd like to learn to play an instrument, but she's never had much luck at it. She does have a lovely singing voice though. She hasn't sung in a long time. I miss it."

Now here was something I could work with. I realized that I had been neglecting my own practice. A plan formed in my mind instantly and I resolved to put it into action the very next day. We continued talking for about another hour. Mrs. Norton got a photo album off of a bookshelf and showed me pictures of Julie ranging from the time she was a very young girl to not too long ago. It was nothing special, just the typical family photo album, but it did give me more of a sense of who Julie was. She had been an incredibly cute and charming child and had grown into a lovely teenager. There was one picture, though that stood out. It was Julie on a volleyball court wearing shorts and a t-shirt. The camera had caught her suspended in mid air with the volleyball just leaving her hands. There was a look of dogged determination on her face and a light of triumph in her eyes. I pointed it out and said, "That's an amazing picture."

"Yes, I must say that I'm quite proud of that one. I think it captures her essence very well. I'm just hoping that someday she'll re-discover the strength she shows in that picture."

After that, she closed the book and said, "I think it's time you left now. I need to go cook dinner. Normally, I'd invite you to stay and eat with us, but I think Julie wants to be alone tonight."

I told her I understood and let myself out. I didn't feel like cooking, so I went to Joe's Diner and got myself a cardboard-and-sawdust burger and some grease-fries to go. I took them home to eat feeling I had made a good step in the right direction.

The next day after school, I walked Julie up to her door (I always did the gentlemanly things such as opening doors for her or holding her chair when she sat down to eat) and told her I wanted to get something from home. Fifteen minutes later, I walked into the store carrying my pride and joy. When Julie saw me, her eyes lit up and she said, "Oh! A guitar! Do you play?"

I gave her my stock answer to this stupid question, "No, I just carry it around to impress the girls."

She chuckled and asked, "So are you going to serenade me?"

I said, "Actually, I haven't practiced for a few days. If you don't mind, I thought I'd do it here. My practice session tend to be a rather boring so, if you'd rather I didn't, I'll understand."

She said, "No, I'd like to hear how you practice."

I sat down in a chair behind the counter and opened the case. When she saw the guitar, her eyes went wide and she said, "Wow, that's quite an instrument. I bet it cost you a pretty penny or two."

I said, "It sure did. This is my baby. I mowed lawns and shoveled snow for three years to pay for her."

Then I tuned up and for the next half-hour I ran through my warm-up routine of scales and chord studies. Julie seemed fascinated. She watched me carefully and quietly. when I finished, she said, "Hey, you're really good."

I said, "That's nothing, just some excersizes to stretch out my fingers."

"I know, but it was interesting all the same. What kind of music do you play?"

I said, "Well, I don't much like the stuff they play nowadays, mostly I like old songs. I like traditional ballads, the old country master like Hank Williams and George Jones. I also play bluegrass. I mess around a little with jazz and blues, but I'm not very good at it."

"Do you sing too?"

I admitted that I did. She said, "So sing me a song."

I sang her several. After the first couple, I stumbled on to one she knew and she got over her shyness enough to sing with me. Her mother was right. She had a lovely singing voice and a good natural sense of melody and harmony. Singing with her was the most fun I had had in a long time. After a few more songs, she said, "You know, I always wanted to play the guitar. Mom bought me one a few years ago, but I never could figure out how to play it. I finally gave up."

I said, "Why don't you go get it? Maybe I can help you."

She came back a few minutes later carrying one of the useless cardboard cases that cheap guitars come in. When I took it out, I saw right away why she couldn't play it. It was one of the plywood monstrosities that chain stores try to foist off as guitars on suckers that don't know any better. The sound was thin and tinny. The bridge was misplaced so that it was impossible to tune. Worst of all, the finger were so high off the neck that pressing down on the strings hurt even my well-callused fingers. I said bluntly, "Julie, this isn't a guitar. It's nothing but an oddly shaped piece of firewood. Sit down and try mine."

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to hurt it."

"You won't."

She sat down and I put my guitar in her hands. She fingered a G chord. I reflected that it was a measure of her determination that she could do even that much with the piece of junk she had to work with. When she struck the chord, her face lit up with joy. I understood, that guitar often had the same effect on me. Then she tried a few more chords and a simple strum. Pretty soon, she was confident enough to try to play and sing a simple song. She handed me my guitar back saying, "This is amazing. I always thought I was doing something wrong. I think I could learn to play a guitar like this."

That gave me an idea. I said, "Why don't we ditch school tomorrow and go into town. I'd like to buy you a guitar."

"I can't let you do that. It's too expensive."

"I don't mean one like mine. You can play mine anytime you want to, but you need one of your own. There are such things as good inexpensive guitars. Just a few hundred dollars."

"That's still too much."

"Not really, I can afford it. Other guys buy their girl friends rings and jewelry and other expensive presents. I want to buy you something that will give you pleasure for the rest of your life."

She frowned at me and said, "I'm not your girl friend, Kevin."

Whoops. Big mistake. Too much. Too soon. I backpedaled rapidly. "Maybe not, but you're a girl and I hope you're my friend. I'd just like to do something nice for you. No strings attached."

I took some doing, but I managed to convince her. The next day, we made the two hour drive to the nearest city (a mere hop, skip and jump in this country). It was close to time for their monthly shopping trip anyway. I did buy her a guitar--a not too expensive one that had reasonably good sound and was comfortable for her to play. She took to it like a duck takes to water. Although she never became an expert player, she did quickly become a fairly good accompanist. Mostly, it gave us something else to do together. I've long maintained that playing music with friends is the most fun a person can have out of bed. It helped bring us closer together.

Julie decided to open up on the Friday, two weeks after our first date. After locking up the store, she asked me to come into her den so we could talk. We sat down on chairs and she came right to the point.

"Kevin, do you like me?" she asked.

Before I could answer she continued, "Oh I know you like being around me or you wouldn't be here so much. I've only really known you a week and I already consider you my best friend. But do you LIKE me? Do you think we could ever be more than friends."

I sat there and pondered the question. I didn't ponder the answer, I knew that very well. I pondered whether it was time to tell her how I felt. Whether I should risk scaring her off. I decided, as I decided many times before that day and since, was that the best way of dealing with this girl was with total honesty. I stood up and walked over to her chair. I knelt in front of her and took her hands in mine.

I told her, " I need to tell you something and I don't want to bungle it. I hope I'm not saying this too soon. I don't want to scare you away but, Julie, I don't like you. Well I do like you but that's not my primary emotion. I love you, Julie, and I have since before I really met you. That first day I came to school, you caught my eye and held it while I was flirting with Lucy and her crowd of twits. I was fascinated by you even then. Looking back on it I think I fell in love with you in that moment, but didn't recognize the emotion.

"Since the day I met you, as I've grown to know you better, I've grown to love you more. You are bright, funny and just plain fun to be around. I love you for your sharp intelligence and your biting sense of humor. Also you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. I love you deeply and I will until the day I die.

"Julie, I'm not trying to pressure you by saying this. I don't ever want to pressure you in any way. If you just want to be friends that's all right. If we never kiss again, if I never touch you I'll still be the happiest man in the world whenever you allow me to be in your presence. I have to know though. Tell me, Is there any chance you might love me too? Just a little? Is there any chance that someday we might be more than friends?"

Julie eyes had been filling up with emotion as I proclaimed my feelings. When I finished, she slid down off her chair onto her knees. She knelt in front of me, close, but not touching me, except for my hands which she still clutched in hers. She looked deep into my eyes with her beautiful blues and said, "Kevin, two months ago, when I was lying in the hospital with my body broken and bleeding from a brutal attack, I swore a mighty oath that I'd never allow myself to get close to a male human again. I was convinced that they were all brutes, bullies and assholes, only after one thing, and they would do anything to get it. I picked up a few shapeless dresses from a Salvation Army store and learned how to use makeup to make myself as unattractive as possible. I drew deep into a shell and refused to talk to anybody, male or female. It was horrible. I have always been a bit of a loner, but I also have always had pretty good friends. My self-inflicted loneliness was worse than my beating but, I couldn't seem to break out of it.

"Then I saw you. The moment I first saw you come into the school, I felt strongly attracted to you and I hated myself for it. I hated myself for breaking my vow and I hated you for making me the way you did. At the same time, I was fascinated just looking at you. You were so different from any other boy I've ever seen around here. There was something about you that I didn't understand and wanted to. In many ways that I couldn't put my finger on, you seemed wise beyond your years--more mature.

"I watched while you flirted with Lucy Muffberger and her pack of harpies. You were so confidant and self-assured. You knew just what to say to make them laugh and blush and just how far you could push the boundaries of decency. But I noticed it all seemed to be a false persona and a facade you were putting up. A part of me wanted to walk up to you, drag you away from them and tell you, 'What are you doing with those bimbos. You should be talking to me.'

"I couldn't though. Fear was the overwhelming fact of my life at the time and my cowardice wouldn't let me do anything but stare at you, long for you and hate you for raising these conflicts in me.

"When you started going out with those bimbos, I decided that I had been wrong about you. If that was the kind of girl you wanted, then take them and good riddance to you. Then I heard the gossip about you. How you left each girl on the doorstep with a kiss that absolutely melted their drawers and then left, never talking to her again.

"When you started going out with my good friend, Lisa Holbrooke, I was sure I had lost you. Finally, you were showing some good sense. You saw right through Lisa's nerdish exterior to the beautiful, very smart girl that I know is inside but, as far as I know, she keeps well hidden from everybody else. I knew you had found the perfect girl for you and I felt a mixture of relief that I wouldn't have to deal with you and despair because I couldn't have you for my own. Then Lisa told me that you weren't her boyfriend, she had tried as hard as she could to make you hers, but you were in love with someone else. Then she told me that she thought I was the one you were in love with. That was when I went running out of the lunchroom sobbing.

"Then you cornered me and asked me out. I was terrified. I lashed out at you like a cornered rabbit will lash out at a hound that's chasing him. I said some horrible things to you that afternoon, but I didn't mean them. I knew even as I spoke that they weren't true. You didn't let it stop you, though. As you pleaded with me, I heard nothing but concern, caring and, yes, love in you voice. In that moment, I knew that the way I was living was no better than being dead. I had nothing to lose by taking a chance.

"Since that day, you've treated me with nothing but respect and kindness. You never put any pressure on me and never made any demands. You simply let me know, by your very presence, that you would be there for me if I needed you. Well, I'm telling you now, that I do need you. I do love you. I love you deeply and I loved you the first minute I saw you. The more I get to know you, the more I love you."

She let go of my hands and, wrapping her arms around my waist, she pulled her body against mine. I wrapped my arms around her and simply held her trembling body against mine. I don't know how long we stayed like that. I was just lost in the sensuous pleasure of holding her body against mine. After some time she said, "Why don't we get more comfortable? There's something else I'd like to tell you."

I let go of her and got to my feet. I took her hands and helped her up. Then we sat down on the couch. She settled into my lap sideways with her legs stretched out along the couch. I wrapped my arms around her waist as she leaned her body against me. I said, "You said you want to say something?"

"Yes. I told you that for a long time my main emotion was fear? Well that fear is not gone, I've just decided not to let it rule my life anymore. Now, it's combined with another combination of emotions--love, longing, lust. I probably shouldn't tell you this, seeing how short a time I've known you, but I think I can trust you not to take unfair advantage. The first time we went out, I said that I demanded total honesty from my friends. You deserve the same from me. What I want to tell you is that the emotions I'm feeling are a dangerous explosive mix. The way I'm feeling now, if you were to push me, even the slightest bit, you could have anything you want from me. It wouldn't be a good idea, though. I'm not ready for that yet."

I said, "Julie, I decided after our first kiss that I would never push you. I'll never ask you to do anything you're not ready for."

"I know that. But I want more from you. I know it's going to be hard on you, and maybe I don't have any right to ask, but I want you to protect me from myself. I'm a mess, Kevin; a psychological basket case. I think I need to seek some professional help. I'm not ready for too much intimacy."

I asked, "So what do you want from me?"

"In the long run, everything. I love you and I want to be with you for the rest of my life. But I don't want you the way I am now. I need to heal and regain my confidence first. I'm afraid it will be a long time before we can be a man and woman together. Until then, do what you've been doing. Be my friend; let me lean on you. Let me know you'll there when I need you. Also, a lot of hugs and maybe some kisses would help. Right now, I want you to hold me."

She fell silent and laid her head on my shoulder and I simply held her sweet body close to mine. I ran my fingers through her hair and massaged the back of her neck and her shoulders gently, trying to rub out the considerable tension I felt there. The scent of her hair and her body was strong in my nostrils--a delightful aroma not unlike lavender and strawberries. After a few minutes, I felt a wetness on my neck and her body began heaving gently. She was crying softly. I continued stroking her gently, trying to convey support, comfort and love through my very fingertips.

Suddenly, she began thrashing violently in my arms. Her head came up and there was a mad, desperate look in her eyes. She let out an ear-piercing scream and began shouting, "AAIIEEEE! No! Stop! Don't hit me! Please don't hurt me anymore!"

I knew instinctively that her pleas for mercy were not directed at me, but at an unseen enemy out of her past. She was reliving her brutal experience. I continued to hold her tightly against me, afraid that she'd hurt herself seriously if I let her go.

As Julie's first scream died down, I heard the door fly open. Mrs. Norton came charging into the room carrying a baseball bat in the cocked and ready position. The expression on her face was not unlike that of a grizzly sow charging a hiker who was foolish enough to get between her and her cub.

When she saw us, she understood what was happening instantly. She dropped the bat and rushed over to us. She dropped to her knees and pressed her body against Julie's other side, helping me to restrain her.

Julie's attack ended as abruptly as it began. Her head fell back on my shoulder and she cried against me. I continued to try to comfort her with my hands while I murmured softly in her ear, "It's all right, sweetheart. Let it out. Let it all out. Nobody's going to hurt you. I'll never let anybody ever hurt you again."

I was totally oblivious to everything except the girl in my arms. Her crying slowly stopped and she looked up at me. I saw, out of the corner of my eye, her mother sitting on a chair, watching us with a smile on her face. I reached for a kleenex from a box that was sitting on the table by the couch and wiped the tears from her face. She said, "Oh God, Kevin. I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me. I didn't want to do that. I don't know what you must think of me. I'm so embarrassed."

I said, "Don't be embarrassed, Julie. You said you wanted me to let you know I'd be here for you if you needed me. That's what I was tonight, here for you just like I'll always be. What I think of you is that you're a beautiful, sweet girl who is in a lot of pain. You obviously needed that or it wouldn't have happened. Do you feel better?"

She sat up, gave her shoulders a few stretches and took a couple of deep breaths. Then she said, "Yes I do. I feel like a great weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Thank you."