“Up until eighteen the law spoke to all adults for me and said no sex with Betty Jo. Even if she doesn’t object, keep your hands off. She’s too young to know her own mind. Then instantly, at the tick of a clock, I’d better know it all because, ready or not, I became fair game. From then on, the kid can decide for herself. She’s now free to do what a woman does. Now she has to deal with men who no longer worry about that law. Men quite likely to be older and wiser. Okay guys, she’s out there. Say whatever you want and do whatever you want to get her to cooperate. Lie to her, tell her you love her, any trick you can think of is fine. She’s not our problem.
“The law wasn’t going to say no for me any longer. I had to speak for myself...and I didn’t. I knew I could say no to George. I’ve said no to boys plenty of times in the past. Why was I confused about saying no to George?”
“But Betty Jo,” I said, “your choice wasn’t difficult. You should have kicked and screamed and tried to run out of there. Whatever it took.”
“All I can say is I decided I didn’t have that choice. It made sense to me at that frightful time. I know, Freddy, you always want things nice and neat. Such and such happened, therefore I should have done such and such. My point is, in the real world it doesn’t work neatly like that. Choices are muddled. Everything is so clear to people outside the problem, yet not to you until later. You read about someone and wonder why the hell did she do that?”
“I suppose you’re right,” I replied. “If everyone made the correct choice, there’d be no novels and movies.”
“Exactly, and no story about George. Anyway, I wasn’t certain what I should do. Incredible as that seemed to me later. I now think I was waiting for him to suddenly change back into the old George. To stop acting that way. To be nice to me again. When I realized the sex was really going to happen, I began to think, okay I’m a big girl, it’s creepy, but let’s get it over with.
“I didn’t believe him when he said I was free to go. Didn’t believe the door was really unlocked. I didn’t think he’d hit me if I tried to run, although I wasn’t positive about that either. I wanted to cry, but I held back because I didn’t want to act like a child. I was absolutely convinced he wouldn’t let me go until he was tired of me. And knowing George that might be a long, terrible time.
“But, you’re right, I didn’t leave...until I finally started thinking again. Through all the fog and confusion in my mind, eventually I decided my best action was to get him to fall asleep. I didn’t think of that until a couple of hours had passed and it wouldn’t have worked anyway until he was a little tired. I pretended to fall asleep. He didn’t want to sleep. He didn’t even want to rest. He was just getting started. He didn’t like it and shook me. Finally, he moved away a little. I laid there not moving a muscle. I was very cold. He was really sweating and had turned the air conditioning on high, and I wasn’t covered with anything except one of his hairy legs. It seemed like a month before I heard him snoring.
“I was able to move away from him and get off the bed without any noise. I didn’t dare breath. I gathered my wrinkled clothes from the corner, went in the bathroom, and gently closed the door. Damn! The noisy fucking exhaust fan came on when I turned on the light. I cringed and froze, hoping he hadn’t heard. Nothing I could do about it. I was exhausted. Didn’t want to look in the mirror. I could imagine how I appeared, my hairdo ruined—half up and half down. What the hell, nothing else I could do. I dressed quickly, shut off the light, and slowly opened the bathroom door.
“He was awake, sitting up in the bed watching me. He ordered me back on the bed. He was now rested and reenergized, ready to go at me again. My heart started pounding. I gauged the distance to the door. I wondered if I could get there and unlock it before he could grab me. If I could just get it unlocked and opened, he’d have to run naked down the hall after me.
“I took a deep breath and ran for the door. It was unlocked. I looked back. He hadn’t moved. He didn’t look powerful then at all, he looked foolish. You know what he said? ‘I thought maybe you’d go along with it. I waited until you were eighteen. I didn’t threaten you. I didn’t rape you.’ Later, I thought about all the clever words I should have dumped on him to put him down. I just wanted out of there. He didn’t make a move. I left. I could have left at any time, and that thought continues to upset me.
“I’d been an idiot. This nobody jerk tells me to take off my clothes and instead of telling him to shove it, like an idiot I say nicely, what are you doing, George? Of course, it was rape. But I didn’t even get that until much later. I hadn’t said no, so how could it be rape?”
“I’m so sorry for you, Betty Jo.” I took my eyes off the highway and glanced over at her. She didn’t seem to be emotional for having recounted such a disturbing episode. But I was truly stunned. I told her, “Sorry you went through that. I’m so glad you were able to get out okay.”
She turned to face me. “So I got screwed, Freddy. I wish I could start that day over. But you can’t let things like that haunt you. What did you get for your eighteenth birthday?”
“I guess it’s healthy you can joke about it now. Didn’t you want to get back at him, to hurt him?”
“If I’d told Jimmie, he’d have gotten a shotgun and blasted George between the legs just enough so he wouldn’t die. I thought about telling him. He’d hunt George down and do it right now if I asked him. If I could find him. Jimmie’s married now. But at the time, I just wanted it all behind me. To my thinking, there was no hurt I could lay on him that would equal that rape. Even if I tortured him with a red-hot iron. He’d already had me. Luckily it was two hours instead of two days, but what he took I can’t take back. The memory of me on the bed in that hotel room can’t be erased from his mind.”
“How can any woman get over a rape?”
“That’s my point. It can’t be undone. Yet, I wasn’t going to let Big Shitty George change my life. Sure, it’s a big deal to have someone you trusted disappoint you. To find out, after five years, they thought of you as some cute little piece of ass.
“And Freddy, something I want to clear up. Although I might have looked the part, I never did the Lolita bit at any age. Even if I had, then he should have ignored it. If a child says, let’s get drunk, you don’t go get the ice you take the bottle away. George can’t pin that one on me.”
I said, “Do you think he was really that devious to look and lust all those years with this big scheme in mind?”
“No, I don’t. Let me tell you, I’ve figured out the whole thing. George never had any five-year plan of taking up with Momma to stay close to me. Later, on my birthday, he thought it was worth a try. He was sure I liked him and he knew I wasn’t innocent. Sure, he’d done some fantasizing about me over those years. But no, George didn’t have any long-range plan. Momma was the one with the five year plan.”
“No way!”
“Now don’t misunderstand. Here’s how it went. Momma kept him interested in her for five years. He kept coming back for more. Early on, she discovered his weakness, which is where I came in. Maybe at age thirteen I wasn’t aware of how he looked at me, but she did. She also noticed if he saw me when he came over, he was fantastic in bed that night. We’re talking multiple lightning strikes here. If I happened to be out of the house and he didn’t see me, he was ho-hum—an early night.
“I remember an incident when I was sixteen. During those years, I lived in tank tops and shorts, day and night, summer and winter. I would have worn them to school, but they weren’t allowed because of girls who were built like me. I’m not sure George had ever seen me wearing anything else. One night I told Momma I was going to show off my new jeans to George. Absolutely not, she said, those shorts look fine, but do something with your hair. She had another great time that night.
“Momma told me I should be polite and always come out and greet him when he came to the house. If I didn’t hear him come in, she’d send him back to my room to say hello. For five years, George got his appetite with me and satisfied his hunger with her. He turned on when he saw me and it took Momma hours to turn him off. That went on from age thirteen until I turned eighteen. Then George realized he had a shot at me.”
“What did your mother say?”
“Never told her. I lied to her, said we just had dinner, and went to a late movie. I couldn’t fool her. She could tell I hadn’t enjoyed it. She knew something had happened. She might even have guessed that George got out of line with me. Put his hand on my knee in the movie or something. She regretted letting me go alone. To this day she doesn’t know what actually happened.”
“But she’s your mother, she’d want to know.”
“Sure, she would. But why spoil five years of good memories for Momma? It’s all she has. I liked him to come over because I knew it’d make Momma happy. I’m not going to take that away from her. Plus, if I told her, she’d
