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The Awakening
By Helen C. Downey
Last edited: Sunday, April 02, 2006
Posted: Sunday, April 02, 2006
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A young woman struggling to live a somewhat normal life finally realizes that she is a vitim of abuse and that her husband is a gangster. This is a chapter from a novel I am working on.
The Awakening
(An excerpt from the novel The Chameleon’s)
Lenore had decided on the petite filet mignonette with a baked potato. The other participants of the party had ordered different types and styles of steak other than what she had ordered and the aroma filled their surroundings. Daydreaming, a part-time job for Lenore, was done while the others carried on their conversation of work and women, these were things she was neither interested in nor could she care less about. Why would she want to talk about other women? All the others at the table just seemed to ignore her and that was just fine with her. She had not even noticed that Brian was watching her from the corner of his eye…a habit he usually displayed when he was interested in someone. It wasn’t hard for him to do it this time since Lenore was seated closely to his left side and no one would even notice what he was doing.
Brian noticed the slenderness of her tiny neck line, as well as the low cut the bodice of her black dress accentuating her small breasts. A simple tear drop diamond on a fine silver chain rested just above her cleavage that reminded him of something but he couldn’t put his finger on it. The smell of light musk perfume filled his senses as he slowly took in all of her femininity. He began to wonder if Oliver had questioned her about the plan they had discussed about the three of them getting together. It didn’t look like it at the moment since she had not even glanced his way…or maybe Oliver had mentioned the three-some to her and she was upset. Softly he shook his head and decided he would just let the evening unfold a little more, it was early.
Oliver completely ignored Lenore by talking excessively to everyone but her. He did not even mention her name nor had he even acknowledged her presence. He never even introduced her to the two other couples that sat next to him. All he seemed to be concerned about was food, his business, and the two new women that sat on each side of him. It must have been all that Scotch and water he consumed as if it were lemonade. He always seemed to drink more than the average human, yet he functioned at a top notch level at all times. At most meals he consumed at least 24 ounces of red meat cooked medium rare…had to be pink in the middle you know. No vegetables were consumed but more drinks along with a loaf of bread, each slice smothered in butter. As he sat in front of everyone with a napkin stuffed in his collar, Oliver always would made a comment that he needed all the red meat he could get his hands on since he was a heavy weight lifter; he lifted over 350 pounds of dead weight, so he said. He claimed to bench press weights three times a week, he reminded everyone while he shoved food in his mouth as fast as he talked. He continued to eat and carry on a boring conversation with his clients while Lenore sat quietly nibbling at her food and day dreaming. She couldn’t stand to watch this gluttonous human embarrass her any more and repeat the same old stories.
No one realized or even imagined that Lenore did really want Brian to notice her. She had met him on several occasions with Oliver. She quickly noticed that Brian was the complete opposite of Oliver and therefore Lenore took an instant liking to him. She noticed his soft spoken mannerisms as well as how he let others speak to him without them being ridiculed by him. Without her even realizing it, Lenore seemed to be on a mission. She longed to catch Brian’s attention and it was now becoming more than an obsession. As usual, during these boring parties, no one noticed or even bothered to talk to her. Without being noticed Lenore had slipped into her own private world. She often took her heels off while she ate dinner, she now crossed her legs and accidentally but subconsciously slid her left foot down Brian’s leg. Brian jolted and looked forward with an expression of embarrassment on his face… he felt as though he were electrified while a current of chills ran down his spine. He turned to look at Lenore, she was expressionless, and apparently she had slipped into one of her daydreams not noticing that Brian was starring at her red face.
At the same moment that Brian had noticed Lenore’s face turning red, two violinists had arrived at their table playing a waltz that was Lenore’s favorite. Easily she reminisced about dancing to that music, taking her to another time and place.
These were the nights that when a special waltz played in her head. In her day dream she danced around her house and sang to her self. Being a house wife with no children, she easily became bored with herself. Having little or no hobbies that were of any significant interest to her did present a problem…one being more bored! These were the days she would go through her antique treasures in the attic on the third floor ballroom. Most of the treasures she found were that of her grandmother’s jewelry. They were very elegant pieces with shiny gems and gold accents. Not the bold gaudy collection, but petite delicately cut pieces meant for someone tiny and graceful. Other treasures found were her grandmother’s ball dresses that had been especially made for her grandmother but surprisingly they fit her perfect. She especially loved the pastel pink chiffon gown with the bodice of the dress covered in shiny pink sequins. Often Lenore would take these things done to her room and then put this, her favorite dress, on as well as the long diamond drop pear shaped earrings and the matching necklace. Turning on the old Victrola she put on her favorite waltz, then gracefully she twirled around in her bedroom, oblivious to the out side world. The music seemed to sooth her inner soul somehow…she had always felt there was a demon in her that needed to be calmed and the music seemed to be the only way to repress them. Grandmother’s gowns really weren’t that much out of style. They were made gracefully and were ageless from the 1930’s, so Lenore worn them occasionally out to dinner with family never in Oliver’s presence. The dresses were ageless even though it was in the 1970’s. Another of Lenore’s favorite dresses was that of white silk. It had an empire waist, the bodice crisscrossed over her small breasts accentuating them softly as well as stylishly. The lower part of the dress was draped lightly in three layers of silk and taffeta that swayed gracefully with any movement. It was amazing that even her grandmother’s shoes of size six fit her. Another mystery about her grandmother that pondered on Lenore’s mind was that she never understood why her grandmother only left her all her clothing and jewelry, where was all the money… why was she in love with these old waltzes? Some day she would find out, but for now all she wanted to do is dance.
The only time Lenore had been able to dance and be in another world was when Oliver was not at home because he had absolutely forbid it. He never gave any explanation as to why she was not allowed to touch her inheritance of such grand jewels and exquisite dresses, but she was sole owner of the house and part of her father’s factory, but these were all material things. There was no money to speak of that was left to her, except when her father had passed, Oliver was left to control all the money and she never saw any of it nor any records of money transactions. Her thoughts now had slipped deeper into her darker days…Once when Lenore thought Oliver was not to return from a trip for a few days, he came home a day early and found her aimlessly twirling around her bedroom and it became a scene of horror, something that she did not want to remember…ever, but it was emerging through the recesses of her mind fast and there was no stopping it…it was flooding her senses now. There were times when all he would do was yell at her and she would blank out, entering into her bad memories and easily slipping back to that time of pain and blood.
"Just what do you think you are doing, you bitch?" Oliver barked as he stood in the open door way of her bedroom, his face as red as a beet. If one would have walked closely to him they would have seen the steam emanating from his head while a perfusion of sweat streamed down from his temples. The whites of his eyes were reddened while his pupils appeared like black holes to hell. Both fists clenched rapidly and were ready to strike whatever came in their paths.
"You little tramp! Get those clothes off now! They are not yours and are never to be worn, especially by you. I have told you a thousand times that those are museum pieces." Oliver barked hoarsely.
Then he thunderously stomped towards Lenore, fists still clenched exposing white knuckles. She didn’t know what to expect and seeing the redness in his eyes grow redder and his eyes bulging out more, she froze exactly where she was. Oliver’s large muscular fist slammed against her pale face forcefully, her body hitting the floor with a loud thud. After hitting the ground and bouncing a few times, he grabbed her long hair in a quick jerk like movement flung her across the room as if she were a rag doll. Lenore’s body was stopped by the wall to Oliver’s far right. She lay crumbled in pile of pale pink silk. As she attempted to get up his large muscular hands were around each of her thin upper arms now raising her up from the carpet. He squeezed her arms tightly as if his hands were a vice, stopping the blood flow to the lower aspects of both of her arms. He then lifted her entire body up off the floor until their eyes met. Oliver was six foot five inches while Lenore was only five foot two inches, an extremely big difference for Lenore. As their eyes met she realized her life was now severely threatened. He shook her violently over and over again as if she were a limp old rug. He held her body tightly while he slammed it against the wall repeatedly again and again. Her head bounced back and forth causing her to become dizzy and nauseated, not a sound emanated across her vocal cords. Lenore caught a view of his eyes…they were solid black now with the whites of his eyes completely reddened. She didn’t know what to expect from him at this point… she could be mince meat at any time now. Once he got in this state there was no telling what damage he would do. As she weakly thought this Oliver’s trance broke, as well as his grip on her, letting her body slide slowly to the carpeted floor. Nausea over whelmed her as she lay on her side to vomit. Oliver said nothing… he went toward her crumbled body and swiftly kicked her in the chest several times as hard as he could with his thick soled shoe. Abruptly he walked out of the room and left her in her misery.
The room faded in and out as she laid there trying to get enough energy to get up. As the room slowly came into focus, she touched her right arm which was not being lain on. It hurt, but when she saw how badly bruised it was she sat upright. Both her arms, from her shoulder to her elbow were purplish red and should the large imprint of Oliver’s hands. The room swooned as her attempt to move in an upright position which was unsuccessful. Again she sat up, her equilibrium was very unstable and the room now spun around fast. Through her double vision she observed her badly bruised arms again. Now sharp abdominal pains were beginning to erupt. Before she was able to concentrate on her abdominal pain the back of her head started to throb. By instinct she placed her left hand on the back of her head and felt a thick warm sticky substance which oozed from what felt like a large lump. As she pulled her hand back to look at what the sticky substance was from behind her head she then glanced down and noticed a large puddle of blood that had pooled between her legs and had seeped through the beautiful pink chiffon of her grandmother’s dress.
"Oh Lord! I better get to the hospital." Lenore thought as she attempted to get up again. Having no luck in being able to stand up she got in a crawling position and attempted to slowly crawl her way to the night stand where the telephone was.
Her room was twenty feet wide and she was that far from the telephone as well as the intercom she used to contact Ruth, the maid. It was at this time, Lenore realized that her right arm had been badly hurt since she could not move it in any forward direction and her legs felt as they were heavy logs that would not cooperate willingly. With what strength she did have, Lenore semi crawled her way to the night stand leaving a trail of blood behind her. With each attempt to pull herself in a forward direction she heard the tearing of her grandmother’s gown. After she pulled herself forward a few times she had to rest her head on the bedroom rug while the room spun around, making the distance between her and the telephone seem endless. It seemed that an hour had passed before she had reached the night stand…she didn’t care, she had made it. She pulled down the telephone and not thinking rationally she managed to press one button that would connect her to her best friend. The telephone wasn’t even hung up and Lenore passed out.
Oliver had made his way down to the living room and sat in his favorite huge dark maroon leather chair. His facial expression was blank as he starred out into an unknown world, not even acknowledging anything around him. After thirty minutes of sitting in a stupor, the door bell began to ring. Oliver was still in a stupor, another world where he did not hear a thing. Lenore’s good friend Millicent and her boyfriend Fred were let in by Ruth. Instinctively, while heading for the stairs, the three of them looked to the right of them into the living room and observed Oliver slumped in his chair just staring into space. They realized that Lenore was more than likely upstairs somewhere possibly in her room in need of help. Millicent took the steps two at a time, then made a right hand turn down the hallway towards Lenore’s room. The second door on the right was Lenore’s as Millicent remembered from her many visits. With the door wide open, Ruth as well as Millicent and her boyfriend Fred, observed a heap of pink chiffon lying on the floor near the night stand. Both Millicent and her boyfriend gasp as they saw all the blood that had been dragged from the wall to where Lenore had lain. They also noticed all the blood on the wall and how it had oozed its way down to the baseboard.
"Do you think you can pick her up and carry her down the steps and into our car, Fred?" Millicent asked.
"Hell, she’s a tiny thing. I won’t have any problems at all. Better get a blanket to wrap her in though, she’s probably in shock." Fred replied in shaky voice. Moments of other paramedic emergencies rushed through his mind.
Quickly Millicent tore a blanket off from the bed and helped wrap Lenore’s unconscious body in it. Before wrapping Lenore, Fred took her pulse and finding a weak one asked Milly to call the hospital. Millicent unthinkingly kicked the telephone to the side in order to help pick up Lenore. Before Fred was about to pick Lenore’s body up and take her to the car, Millicent picked up the telephone and called the nearest hospital to report that they were bringing in an unconscious female that had been badly beaten. Fred picked up Lenore’s limp, clammy body and holding her close to his chest walked as fast as he could down the long stair way and to his car. Millicent had thoughts of calling the police to report this heinous crime but changed her mind, worrying more about getting Lenore to the hospital.
Unaware of what was happening; Oliver continued to sit in his large leather chair in a slumped position and stared into space as people rushed through the large hall way to his left.
Lenore woke up while on a stretcher in the emergency room and started to hyperventilate. One of the hospital nurses or someone in white gave her a paper bag and explained that she should breathe in and out of the bag. She did as she was told while a parade of nurses and doctors came in and out of her small curtained area. They checked every aspect of her body especially the areas where she had been bleeding from and they wrote down everything they had observed and did for her. The bleeding from her head stopped after a surgeon sutured the back of her head with three stitches. She noticed that she had on one of those tacky cotton paisley hospital gowns and wondered what they did with her grandmother’s gown. Before she was able to ask where her gown was she noticed it crumbled in a reddened heap on the floor. "Well Oliver, that dress isn’t worthy of any museum except the horror museum." Lenore thought sadly. As if she were in a heavy down pour, she vaguely heard a doctor asking her to please remove her panties so that he could check to see if she had been raped and to assess where she was bleeding from. Everyone in the room became quiet except one nurse. After a gasp was heard from Lenore everyone left the room. Lenore had looked down at her panties to see them soaked in blood. Tears streamed down her pale cheeks as she slowly slid off her panties. The nurse that left came back in with a clear plastic bag and put the panties in it. After tying the bag she looked at Lenore with saddened eyes and said, "Miss. There is Officer George and Doctor Bob; they would like to ask you some questions."
Why?" asked Lenore.
"It’s just hospital policy in a situation as this." replied the nurse.
It seemed that just after the nurse had made her statement an officer of the law came in through the pulled curtains. He had many forms in his hands in which he wanted Lenore to sign. Before he showed her the papers he did repeat to her that this was a serious situation and there would be many papers to fill out.
"What do you mean a situation as this? What are you talking about?" Lenore questioned as she searched for an explanation herself for what was going on.
"Miss, you can press charges against the individual who did this to you. This is extreme physical abuse. We don’t know if you were raped and beaten or just beaten. Also, we need to know who did this to you so that he can pay what is due him," replied the nurse.
Lenore began to cry violently. Her body quivered as coldness ran through her. Her head was throbbing and at this time she felt as if her world was falling apart.
"Are you in pain, Miss?" asked the Officer George.
"No. I am very frightened, sir." Lenore stared with wide eyes.
"That’s why we need to protect you, Miss. Your attacker can and will hurt you again. Once an individual does this to another person they always do it again. Next time you might not be so lucky, you could be killed. Please sign these papers so that we can press charges against him and hopefully he will get help. You will have to go to court; you will need a lawyer….."
Lenore pushed the papers away. "I can’t! Please! Please! Don’t force me, please. He, he will come after me and kill me! Can’t you people understand?" Lenore was frantic at this point and her voice was almost a shriek.
The officer just stared at her, then stated that he would leave the papers with her and once she calmed down, and once she had thought things over she could sign the papers, then she would be allowed to go home.
"I can’t do it, please don’t make me sign the papers." cried Lenore as tears were forming in her eyes uncontrollably.
"Well who is this big shot?" asked the officer.
"His name is Oliver Merivale," stated the nurse, whom had been informed by Millicent. Millicent had also informed the police and the hospital staff that this had not been the first time that Oliver had abused Lenore. All of this was verified by the hospital staff checking older records that had been kept on file for the past five years. Lenore had refused to sign any papers in the past as well.
The officer’s voice was fading away. Lenore saw his lips moving but no words were coming out. The tears continued to stream down her face. She had to lie back down, the room was spinning. A doctor that had been in the room came closer to her and she felt the prick of a needle. After a few minutes she had calmed down and closing her tired eyes she rested quietly.
"Oh, he’s Oliver Merivale, that gangster leader who is rolling in all the money in this town!" claimed the police officer.
Lenore vaguely heard something about Oliver and gangster…
"What did you say officer? Did you just say that my husband is a gangster?" asked Lenore.
"Ah, yes I did. Surely, you already knew that?"
"I’ve been married to him for ten years and this is the first time I have been made aware of this. Are you sure you’re talking about my Oliver Merivale, the owner of the textile factory in Akron, Ohio? ." Lenore said sadly and then almost under her breath. "Well, that sure explains a lot."
"Like what does it explain? What unusual happenings have you noticed?" asked the officer.
"Never mind, I have said enough. This is all the more reason why I can’t press charges against him." Lenore replied as more tears gushed down her pale cheeks. ‘Oh, Oliver what have you been up to?’ she thought sadly to herself.
"So, you are not going to press charges then?" asked the officer.
"NO! I said no! Don’t you or anyone else understand those two little words!" screamed Lenore. "I can’t!"
The documents in the room that were held by the nurse had the entire incident recorded by written word and witnessed by the nurse, doctor, and the police officer. The nurse gathered the papers up and asked that the officer leave the cubical as she pushed open the curtains to let them out. She turned to Lenore and informed her about the processing and filing of the papers.
"You have up to two years to sign these and to press charges. These papers will be on file at the police station just in case you want to sign them during the next two years. Also they will be filed as with any other domestic violence case that had been noted or reported." stated the nurse.
Before leaving the room, just out of curiosity the nurse asked, "Has this been the first time he abused you?" Millicent whispered to the nurse and reminded again about the past incidents.
Lenore lowered her head in shame, "No." she whispered. Then she remembered the time he hit her so hard she flew twenty feet and landed against the television set, almost knocking the television over. The next day he sent her two dozen roses. Whoopi! She was in bed that time for a week with back problems. No wonder she could never get pregnant, with him beating on her just about every week at the beginning. It tapered off to every other week then once a month or so. You never knew when he would explode or why he did what he did.
As she entered the small hospital bathroom down the hall from her curtained room Lenore noticed that her cheeks were dampened as she looked into the mirror. It was then that her mind let her enter reality. ‘Those damn thoughts of our past fights were supposed to stay away! How could they just rush in and take over! Look at me!! Ooooh! Now I have to redo my face again,’ thought Lenore as she washed her face and patted it dry with a paper towel. She needed one of those pills that her regular doctor had prescribed for her in case those bad thoughts came back. She would take one of the blue tiny pills whenever she started to have an attack. She would place it on her tongue and just swallow. It would go down easily. Oliver did not know that she had to see a doctor once a month because of his physical and mental abuse, that her nerves had begun to be ragged and that her self esteem was floating around in the wind some where. Lenore stood in front of the bathroom mirror and repeated to her self, ‘I will forget. I will forget. I will forget. That son of a bitch will pay, oh, yes he will.’
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Site: www.authorsden.com/helencdoewney
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