Chapter 6

When we got back to the house, the four of us went inside. Carol was not a happy camper, and Judy looked somewhat confused at what had just happened. The rest of the adults heard the commotion and joined us in the living room.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Carol growled. “You can’t just abduct a woman just because you think she’s being abused by her husband!”

“I couldn’t just leave her there.” I shot back “You know she’d just go back to the slimy bastard, and he’d just keep beating her until he eventually killed her!”

“You don’t know that!” She exclaimed.

“The hell I do!” I was starting to get pissed. “The moment I was dragged into this, I saw what was going on. The moment I touched her, I could see the pain he’d already inflicted. There were so many scars, so many fractures, so many bruises. No one - No. One. Is. That. Clumsy!” I started punctuating my words to get my point across. “Don’t tell me I don’t know for sure - I actually do!”

There was a moment of silence as we stared angrily at each other. I could feel my fists clenching and unclenching at being accused of doing the wrong thing, even if it was the right thing to do. In the silence, a small voice spoke.

“I don’t want to cause any trouble.” Anita mumbled. She still looking down as she said this to no-one in particular. “I can go if you like...” her voice trailed off at the end.

My face softened. I realised that she was the victim in this whole mess.

“No,” I said softly. “Stay.”

“You can’t make those decisions for her!” Carol said to me. “She’s a grown woman - it needs to be her choice. But she needs to understand what she’s let herself in for.”

Turning to Anita, she said “You’re not a trouble, but you’ve got yourself into a bit of trouble, haven’t you? You don’t want to go back to that situation, do you? You are welcomed to stay here, but you’re going to have to tell us your story. Are you OK with that?”

Anita, still looking down, nodded her agreement.

Carol said “Why don’t we all get comfortable, and you can tell us your story. That way, you only need to tell us once. OK dear?”

Again, Anita nodded silently, and we all rearranged chairs so that we could listen. Anita sat on the edge of the couch next to me, knees together, hands together in her lap. She fidgeted with her fingernails, unsure where to start.

“You’re not in trouble sweetheart. This is a safe place - no one will hurt you here.” I said to her. I placed my hand on her arm, and concentrated on sending peace and comfort to her. She took a deep shuddering breath, and then sighed and began her story.

“My parents were farmers. We were fairly poor. For as long as I can remember, Mum was up at dawn working out in the paddocks. Dad would be shifting sprinklers, or spraying crops, or raking up seed beds, or any one of a hundred jobs that needed to be done. When I was old enough to work, I would go out and help them before they sent me to school. When I got home from school, I’d go and join them again, picking produce, sorting and packing getting ready for market.

“There wasn’t a lot of time for homework. I didn’t do that well at school. I wasn’t bright. They didn’t expect me to get A’s or anything. In fact, I think they would’ve been thrilled if I’d just graduated. They didn’t really talk to me about my future, but I know they just wanted me to meet someone so I could become someone’s wife, the mother of someone’s children.

“I met Martin in high school. He wasn’t perfect, but he seemed to genuinely care for me. I was sitting by myself at lunch, as usual, watching the people around me. I had noticed Martin for some time, watching how confident, how easy going he seemed to be, how much of a charmer he was. He had everyone around him enthralled, and I found myself drawn to him. One day, as I was watching him, he looked up and glanced in my direction, and our eyes met. When I realised that I’d been caught staring at him, I started blushing like crazy, but he just kept looking at me and smiled. He stood up, walked over to where I was, and asked me if I’d like to join him. I was so shy I just nodded, stood and walked with him. He sat back down with his friends, with me alongside. Just like that, we were an item, and I never left his side.

“The other girls at school gave me a hard time, but it didn’t matter, because one look at Martin and I felt like everything was OK in the world. I was crushing on him badly, totally smitten with him. He was everything I had ever dreamed of. He was so charming, popular with everyone - I could hardly believe that he chose me, that he cared for me! He charmed his way into my pants, and I knew that I would never deny him anything - whatever he wanted, I would give, willingly. I was totally in love, sold out to him body, soul and spirit.

“Things were going so well. I had finished high school, working back on the farm. Martin was working in town. We saw each other as often as we could, and he would take me to deserted places and he would have his way with me. It was thrilling, daring. I felt like a whore because I was so addicted to his sex, it was unbelievable. Then one day I missed my period, and things started to fall apart.

“I tried to hide it, because it wasn’t long before it was obvious that I was pregnant, and that Martin was the father. Both our families insisted that we marry, and before I knew it I was Mrs Martin Jones. I think that’s when things started to go downhill.” Anita paused, and struggled to tell the next part of her story. Tears started to run down her face as she continued to fidget with her fingernails in her lap, looking downcast.

“It wasn’t long after that, when my parents were killed in a car accident. Drunk driver, the police told me. It was instant, they didn’t feel a thing. Suddenly, the farm was mine, and there was a lot of work to do. Martin quit his job and came and worked the farm with me, but it was obvious that he started resenting me for dragging him down from his career. He wasn’t used to the hard work, the early starts. Even pregnant I was up at dawn doing almost everything that my father and mother did. I couldn’t do it all, and every little mistake that I made, Martin would yell at me. ‘Stupid cow’, he would say, ‘how could you stuff up something so simple!’

“When the baby was born, it was harder again. I would leave the baby in the house, and go out to work in the paddocks. Sometimes I would make a sling and carry the baby with me. Martin never lifted a finger to help me - he blamed me for our situation. If I hadn’t fallen pregnant, we would’ve been better off...”

We were all spellbound as we listened to Anita’s story. She continued “Martin started drinking at night. After a couple of drinks he was back to the happy-go-lucky guy that I first met. After a couple more he became abusive, and started pushing me around. A couple more, and he would pass out on the couch. The first time he hit me, once he was sober he was so apologetic. He bought flowers, made dinner, bent over backwards in saying how sorry he was. I forgave him - he was my life, how could I not? That happy moment didn’t last, and as the drinking got worse, so did the violence.

“I think the worst was when he would take his frustrations out on my sexually. After a few drinks, he’d force me into humiliating positions, and take me whether I was ready or not. Sometimes I was dry, and it hurt so bad I would start bleeding. Then he’d blame me for not doing my job - somehow it was my fault that I wasn’t ready for him. I started buying lube, and when he started drinking I would just put some in me so he wouldn’t hurt me. I would pray that he would drink so heavily he couldn’t get it up, and I would be spared the night. Sometimes he would realise I had lubed myself up, and he would beat me anyway. It seemed my cries of pain just aroused him more.” Anita started sobbing opening, tears streaming down her face.

I drew her into my arms, and held her as she sobbed into my shoulder. So much pain and tragedy! It was a wonder she was still alive. Everyone drew closer to us, as Anita shoulders shuddered with each teary breath. I felt my shirt wet with her tears, her anguish seared into my soul.

“He’s never going to hurt you again, love.” I said to her, slowly rubbing her back. “I’ll make sure of that.”

Carol, ever the practical one, said “How long ago did all this happen? Where is the child now?”

“Julie’s at kindergarten. She goes into town with the neighbour.” Anita replied.

Carol started to go into nurse mode, issuing orders to us all. “Anita, sweetheart, we need to go in and pick her up together. Gill, you can come with us. Judy, see if you can make space for Anita and her daughter here - we need to make sure they’re safe for the time being. Frank - you and Maggie see if you can followup on what happened to Martin after we left. We can’t risk him finding Anita or hurting their daughter.” Everyone dispersed to their assigned jobs, and I was left sitting on the couch, wondering what I had dragged everyone into.

It was much later in the afternoon when everyone arrived back at the refuge. I’d started thinking of our hideout as a refuge, the irony of rescuing people I guess. I’m not totally inept in the kitchen, so I had started preparing dinner, with Judy for company. We made smalltalk, Judy sitting at the island counter in the kitchen while I was peeling and cutting vegetables to go with the evening meal.