he got very angry.”
“Did he hit you?” Ellen won’t answer. “Ellen, did he hit you?” Jamie asks again, more insistent.
“That wasn’t the worst of it,” Ellen finally whispers. “It became this sort of ritual for him. He’d tie me up.…”
“Oh God …” escapes from Jamie.
“He had this elaborate way of doing it depending on which part of my body was going to get the punishment.”
“Don’t!” Jamie says. He can’t hear this, but Ellen continues on anyway.
“And then he’d find the spot he wanted. It was always a soft spot, somewhere that could be covered up with clothes, and he’d cut me.…”
“No …” Jamie is moaning now. “Please …”
“And he’d tell me this would all stop if I’d only be good, what he was asking for was only reasonable. Wasn’t it reasonable that he know where the woman he loved was? Wasn’t it reasonable that he be able to believe what she told him? Wasn’t that reasonable, he’d ask me, and I had to agree or he’d find another soft spot.”
Jamie gets up abruptly. He can’t hear any more of this, but Ellen grabs his forearm. “Sit down. I’m not finished.” And as muchas he’s desperate to walk away, to wipe from his consciousness what she’s just told him, he looks into his sister’s urgent face and sits down again.
“But I didn’t just give in. I began to fight back. And that’s when it got really scary. We began to inflict major damage on each other. Not just black eyes and bruises, but I broke his wrist once and he pushed me across the kitchen one night and I fell against the stove and blacked out. And he couldn’t revive me and so I ended up in the emergency room with a serious concussion.”
“And that did it?” Jamie asks, begging her to tell him that this horrendous story is over.
“You would think, wouldn’t you, that that would have been enough.” Ellen sits back and says this without emotion, as if she’s telling the story of someone else, someone completely crazy. Someone who has no relationship to her.
“You didn’t leave him then?!”
“Not the first time I showed up in the hospital, but the second time, yes. But only because he was arrested and when I was well enough to go home, he wasn’t there.… Before he made bail, I did the one smart thing in the middle of all this mess: I called Tracy and she came and got me.”
“Is that the end of this story?” Jamie asks her. “Because I don’t think I can hear any more.”
“The rest of the story is good,” she says. “The rest of the story is how I became this paragon of health and happiness that you see before you. The rest of the story is what I came to California to tell you.”
“You know what, El, I don’t think I’m ready to hear it now.”
“Okay,” she says reasonably, “I’ve given you a lot to take in.”
“Would you call that an understatement?”
And she grins at him. “Yep.”
• • •
WHEN HE LEAVES FOR SCHOOL the next morning, she comes with him. She wants to see where he works and then she wants to explore San Diego. She’ll drive around a bit and then pick him back up at three thirty. They arrange it over breakfast, sitting at his breakfast bar, drinking their coffees, and idly reading the morning paper.
She seems so calm to Jamie, so present, so unaffected by the story she told him last night that part of him doesn’t believe her. How could she have gone through what she described (and he has a feeling she left a great deal out) and still be the Ellen he knows? The two things can’t quite coexist in his mind.
When she looks up from the paper and sees him scrutinizing her, she again knows what he’s thinking. “I survived, Jamie, and something miraculous happened because of all the pain. Don’t judge until you hear the rest of the story.”
“Give me a breather here, El.”
She laughs. “I can wait.”
Jamie’s school is close to the water. It seems to Ellen that practically everything in San Diego
“Did he hit you?” Ellen won’t answer. “Ellen, did he hit you?” Jamie asks again, more insistent.
“That wasn’t the worst of it,” Ellen finally whispers. “It became this sort of ritual for him. He’d tie me up.…”
“Oh God …” escapes from Jamie.
“He had this elaborate way of doing it depending on which part of my body was going to get the punishment.”
“Don’t!” Jamie says. He can’t hear this, but Ellen continues on anyway.
“And then he’d find the spot he wanted. It was always a soft spot, somewhere that could be covered up with clothes, and he’d cut me.…”
“No …” Jamie is moaning now. “Please …”
“And he’d tell me this would all stop if I’d only be good, what he was asking for was only reasonable. Wasn’t it reasonable that he know where the woman he loved was? Wasn’t it reasonable that he be able to believe what she told him? Wasn’t that reasonable, he’d ask me, and I had to agree or he’d find another soft spot.”
Jamie gets up abruptly. He can’t hear any more of this, but Ellen grabs his forearm. “Sit down. I’m not finished.” And as muchas he’s desperate to walk away, to wipe from his consciousness what she’s just told him, he looks into his sister’s urgent face and sits down again.
“But I didn’t just give in. I began to fight back. And that’s when it got really scary. We began to inflict major damage on each other. Not just black eyes and bruises, but I broke his wrist once and he pushed me across the kitchen one night and I fell against the stove and blacked out. And he couldn’t revive me and so I ended up in the emergency room with a serious concussion.”
“And that did it?” Jamie asks, begging her to tell him that this horrendous story is over.
“You would think, wouldn’t you, that that would have been enough.” Ellen sits back and says this without emotion, as if she’s telling the story of someone else, someone completely crazy. Someone who has no relationship to her.
“You didn’t leave him then?!”
“Not the first time I showed up in the hospital, but the second time, yes. But only because he was arrested and when I was well enough to go home, he wasn’t there.… Before he made bail, I did the one smart thing in the middle of all this mess: I called Tracy and she came and got me.”
“Is that the end of this story?” Jamie asks her. “Because I don’t think I can hear any more.”
“The rest of the story is good,” she says. “The rest of the story is how I became this paragon of health and happiness that you see before you. The rest of the story is what I came to California to tell you.”
“You know what, El, I don’t think I’m ready to hear it now.”
“Okay,” she says reasonably, “I’ve given you a lot to take in.”
“Would you call that an understatement?”
And she grins at him. “Yep.”
• • •
WHEN HE LEAVES FOR SCHOOL the next morning, she comes with him. She wants to see where he works and then she wants to explore San Diego. She’ll drive around a bit and then pick him back up at three thirty. They arrange it over breakfast, sitting at his breakfast bar, drinking their coffees, and idly reading the morning paper.
She seems so calm to Jamie, so present, so unaffected by the story she told him last night that part of him doesn’t believe her. How could she have gone through what she described (and he has a feeling she left a great deal out) and still be the Ellen he knows? The two things can’t quite coexist in his mind.
When she looks up from the paper and sees him scrutinizing her, she again knows what he’s thinking. “I survived, Jamie, and something miraculous happened because of all the pain. Don’t judge until you hear the rest of the story.”
“Give me a breather here, El.”
She laughs. “I can wait.”
Jamie’s school is close to the water. It seems to Ellen that practically everything in San Diego
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