Chapter Eighteen

The following morning, Maddy escorted her sister to school. She sat on the gym sidelines, bleary-eyed, as the senior girls’ volleyball team ran laps and spiked balls. She even managed not to scream when, at a signal from Leanne, the entire team came at her, hoisted her onto their shoulders and carried her around the gym, singing “For She’s a Jolly Good Fellow!” When they set her down, Maddy was giddy with giggles, convulsing with them. The team crowded around her, patting her back and cheering her name. The air shimmered with goodwill.

“Okay, ladies,” called a beaming Coach Wurzer. “Showers for everyone or you’re gonna stink up your classes.”

The team headed for the changeroom, still cheering Maddy’s name. Watching them go, Maddy wondered how much Leanne had told them – not that she cared, really. Whatever it was, the team was certainly on her side. Not everyone thought she was the world’s least choosy slut, and just knowing that, feeling how much the team had wanted to show their support…well, it put a decidedly different slant on things. The comments that came at her later that morning still hurt, but they no longer staggered her heartbeat. Maddy started working on her shrug response.

Still, things were edgy in a way she couldn’t quite catch hold of. Like Nikki, Sean, and Elliot in yesterday’s English class, it was all quick glances, hit-and-run sneers, students looking at their phones then at her with eyes that knew something she did not. Then, in her morning math class, an image of a naked woman hanging from a guillotine was sketched onto the whiteboard when the teacher momentarily stepped out. And Maddy was tripped in the hall as she was heading to her French class, her books scattering as she hit the floor. No one extended a hand to help her up; no one even slowed to look. But the worst came in French, where Jennifer Ebinger sat one desk ahead, her back rigid, her silence loaded.

Jennifer’s refusal to speak to her left Maddy feeling as if she’d been sucker-punched. What had happened with Jenn? she kept wondering. Maddy hadn’t talked to her about Mr. Zarro yet, so it couldn’t be that. Had Jenn heard one of the rumors going around? Had she read something online? Had she believed it? What was it that moved in on kids and ate their minds like this? Tired out by thinking about it, aching from it, Maddy headed to the nearest girls’ washroom at lunch break. She pushed open the outer door and made for the farthest cubicle of three, which appeared to be the only empty one. As she reached it, the cubicle door nearest the washroom entrance opened, and Julie came out.

Maddy froze. Still in the process of doing up her jeans zipper, Julie looked up and their eyes met. Julie’s eyebrows rose, and she gave her signature smirk.

“Hello, Maddy,” she said.

Maddy didn’t know why it was – graphic hallway comments didn’t bother her anywhere near the way that smirk did.

“Mad mad mad-for-it Maddy,” Julie added in a singsong.

The middle cubicle door opened and Dana emerged. When she saw Maddy, she snorted. “Smut slut,” she quipped, crossing to the counter and depositing her books. “What I haven’t read about her on Twitter ain’t worth mentioning.”

A flush seared Maddy’s face. Heat invaded her brain; all rational thought went up in smoke.

“I heard she was at Stan Sassoon’s party last week,” said Julie, crossing to the counter to stand beside Dana. “And she gave it up free of charge to whoever wanted it.”

“Does she usually charge?” asked Dana.

“They even gave her a bedroom all to herself,” sniggered Julie. “And whoever dropped in to see her, of course.”

Dense with shock, Maddy could barely move. “I wasn’t at any party,” she blurted.

“Not what I heard,” cooed Julie, turning to examine her makeup in the mirror.

“Definitely not what I heard either,” said Dana, winking at Julie.

Maddy stared at the backs turned to her, the reflection of the two smirking faces that watched in the mirror. Watched the way kids watched all day long – sideways in their desks, sneering over their lunches, and tossing endless comments as they passed in the halls. Gone was the memory of Leanne and the team; gone was the inner voice telling her to keep cool, to shut the hell up and get out of there. Inside her brain, heat swelled, fused into quantum thermodynamics, and exploded.

“I wasn’t at any party fucking whoever came along!” she shouted. “I haven’t been at a party in months – seven months. You know why? You know why the goddamn hell why?” Raising a hand, Maddy pointed it at the now-wary faces watching her in the mirror. “Because your boyfriend and two of his friends raped me last March. Yes, your boyfriend,” she screamed at Julie. “Ken Soong. Pete Gwirtzman. And Keith Janklow. All of them together. And it was rape, not sex. They weren’t my boyfriends – I didn’t want them. So fuck you and your goddamn lies. Now you know the truth. Eat that and see how you like it.”

Julie turned around, her face pale, her eyes intense. For a moment, she simply stared at Maddy. Then her head tilted back slightly, and her eyes glazed over. “I don’t believe that,” she said airily. “I just don’t believe it.” Turning again to the mirror, she began fiddling with an earring.

Incredulous, Maddy stared at the two girls. Without speaking to each other, they were focused intently on makeup and fashion accessories. Dana gave a little cough; Julie sighed.

“What d’you think today’s lunch special is?” asked Julie.

Her eyes were still glazed, her expression almost dreamy. The Beautiful Land, Maddy thought, watching her. That’s where she is. If it had ever occurred to her to wonder how Julie had come up with the idea, she had her answer now. Crossing to the washroom entrance, she got the hell out of there.

. . .

Lunch with Leanne, Kara, and August was stressed. Maddy told them about her washroom encounter with Julie and Dana. The three girls responded with indignation and encouragement. They were everything Maddy needed, the exact best kind of sister and friends anyone could ask for in a situation like this. But she felt guilty for putting them through what they were facing for her – as if all the ugliness were somehow her fault. And she kept thinking about Jennifer’s silent back, the way the other girl had refused to speak to her. Maddy knew she could count on Leanne, but Kara and August – would that silence someday take them over the way it had Jenn?

English was a repeat of the day before. David again sat between Elliot and an uncomfortable-looking Harvir; his face grim, David didn’t seem to be talking to anyone. Julie and Ken openly snuggled; watching them, Maddy wondered if Julie had told Ken what had happened earlier in the washroom. No, not possible, she decided. Not with the way they were cooing at each other.

“Pigeon brains,” was Kara’s comment as she observed them. “Pigeon shit has a higher IQ.”

Everyone watched Maddy. Not outright – the glances came at her like light dancing off a mirror ball, moments of eyes flicking across her face and gone. It was almost as if the class were on a collective joyride at her expense: the more miserable she felt, the more excited their smirks became. But not everyone had joined in. Here and there, a pair of eyes watched her steadily, the face thoughtful – Rhonda, Theresa, even Harvir. A few students seemed oblivious; incredibly, they appeared not to have tuned in. But tuned in or not, they were all waiting…waiting for Wednesday and the last chapter, Maddy’s final word on the fate of Farang.

“You’re ready to go with your chapter tomorrow?” Ms. Mousumi asked, coming over to Maddy’s desk with a questioning smile.

Maddy nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak. Beside her, Kara spoke up for her.

“Maddy’ll do a great job,” she said firmly.

“I’m sure she will,” Ms. Mousumi said, but she was eyeing Maddy uncertainly. “Maddy, I’m just wondering…is everything okay with you?”

Maddy stared down at her desk, a flush creeping up her face. Thumbnail welts were once again wedged in across the back of her left hand. One more day, she thought, suddenly exhausted. One more day and it would all come out – the end of Farang’s story, and the end of her own. At least, that was the way it felt. How could life go on after what she was going to have to tell her family? Was she strong enough to handle it, or would the experience destroy her – shred her like a used Kleenex?

Under Maddy’s desk, Kara’s left hand settled onto Maddy’s right one and squeezed. It was enough to allow Maddy to get a grip.

“I’m okay,” she said, glancing sideways at the teacher. “I’ll have my chapter ready for tomorrow. Don’t worry.”

Ms. Mousumi hesitated. “Well,” she said, “I’m looking forward to hearing it.” And she walked to the front of the room to call the class to order.

. . .

That evening, Maddy sat in the tree house, the two flashlights trained on the mural and a notebook propped on her knees. It was chilly – she was wearing a jacket over a thick sweater – but she was about to start her chapter for The Pain Eater, and it had to be written here: she knew that if she knew anything. After school, she and Leanne had walked home together, and Maddy had told her sister the story of Farang, chapter by damning chapter. They had sat at the kitchen table over cups of hot chocolate as she’d described the last few chapters, and when she’d finished, Leanne had said, “That’s not the story of Farang, Maddy. That’s the story of your class. And you get to top it all off.”

Top it off in more ways than one, Maddy thought now as her eyes traveled over the mural, taking in details of the trees, the masks, the six figures…the moon caught on a tree branch and the cream-gold sphere hovering in the background. That sphere was where it had all begun, where she’d started to put form and knowing to things. And yet it was almost formless, just a soundless, revolving glow. What was it? Maddy wondered as she observed the image for probably the thousandth time. Why had it called itself into being? What was its meaning?

Getting to her feet, she crossed to the mural and stood before the sphere. Inches from her forehead, it seemed to pulse with an inner radiance. That radiance was gentle, sweet, and oddly familiar. Riveted, Maddy stared at the sphere. Blood pounded in her ears; her heart started a dull, painful thud; a cry leapt from her mouth. Then, like a blossoming flower of light, the sphere seemed to open, and something passed from it directly into Maddy’s forehead. She felt it like gentle fire, like angel wings, like the breath of a soul coming home. Oh! she thought, beginning to cry. Oh my goodness!

It was her goodness, her own good soul – the part of her that had left her during the rape because it wasn’t able to bear what was happening. Now, finally, it had returned. Sitting down, Maddy hugged and rocked herself, welcoming the lost part of herself home.

. . .

Midway into Maddy’s first paragraph, her phone rang. Picking it up, she hesitated, then asked, “Hello?”

“Maddy?” said a male voice. She recognized it, but couldn’t place it.

“Yes?” she said.

“It’s David. David Janklow,” said the voice. “I got your number from Jennifer Ebinger.”

“Oh,” said Maddy. A sinking sensation came over her, as if she was draining into her feet. Together, she and David breathed through a pause.

“They want to talk to you,” he blurted. “Tomorrow before school. It’s about The Pain Eater, what you’re gonna say.”

“Why?” asked Maddy. “It doesn’t have anything to do with them.”

“So just tell them that,” said David. “I think it’ll be okay then. If you say that, it should be okay.”

“You tell them,” said Maddy.

“They want to talk to you,” said David. “They won’t hurt you. They’re not gonna do anything. They just want to talk. 8:15 at the 7-Eleven, okay?”

Maddy was silent. Her heart thundered.

“Maddy?” said David. “Maddy? You there? Look, don’t you think you’ve been getting better lately? It’s not bothering you as much now – you’re getting happier, more like you used to be. So don’t you think maybe you could forget about it all? Since it’s not really bothering you anymore, and you’ve gotten over it.”

Maddy’s voice, when she spoke, dragged against her throat. “Just another good poison, eh?” she said.

“No!” cried David. “That’s not what I meant. But this afternoon Ken was talking about how maybe we could all be friends. They could make it up to you for what they did. This is about my brother, Maddy. Don’t you think…” David paused, breathing raggedly, then took a deep breath. “Besides,” he added, “you don’t want to hang around with August, do you? Maybe you and Julie could—”

Maddy shut off her phone. Then she sat a while, doing her own ragged breathing. Whatever David’s real intentions toward her were, his phone call made it clear he was under too much pressure to be of much help. Not that she’d expected any, but still…. Eyes closed, Maddy sat grimly fighting off waves of nausea. One more day, she thought. Just one more day, and then what?

Who knew, but she had a chapter to write. Picking up her notebook, Maddy reread what she’d written earlier. Then she looked at the mural and the cream-gold sphere. Everything seemed to be coming at her at once – inside herself, it felt as if everything that had happened since that fateful performance of Our Town last March had risen up and was swirling around like a hurricane. Well, it was time to let it out – to let the words decide for themselves what they wanted to be. Touching pen tip to paper, Maddy began to write.

. . .

Maddy heard the first sounds just as she was finishing up. She had written the last word, set down her notebook, and was staring at the mural when she heard a rustle of leaves in the backyard, then the quiet murmur of voices. Not the voices of her parents, or Leanne and her friends calling to one another – these were voices keeping themselves quiet, voices that didn’t want to be heard by anyone but themselves. Straightening, Maddy sat a moment, following the progress of carefully placed feet around the side of the house. Whoever this was didn’t seem to have looked upward, to have noticed the dim light that must be coming from the treehouse – for now, at least, she was safe. Picking up her phone, Maddy thumbed.

“Dad,” she said to her father’s hello. “There’s someone in the backyard. Creeping around. I don’t know who.”

“Where are you?” asked her father.

“The tree house,” she said.

“Stay there,” he said and hung up.

A moment later, Maddy heard the house’s back door open, followed by a sonic blast from what was probably Leanne’s boombox, as the Red Hot Chili Peppers flattened the neighborhood. Then the yard lights came on, the boombox went silent, and Maddy peered down through the trap door entrance to see her father and Leanne stalking every inch of the now quiet backyard.

“Maddy!” called her father. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she called back. “Are they gone?”

“I think so,” said Ian Malone, coming to the foot of the tree. “But someone was here. They knocked over the paint cans I left by the porch. You’d better come down.”

“You come up first,” said Maddy. “And bring Mom and Leanne. I want to show you something.” Because she knew now. She knew now was the time: there was no more putting it off; what had to be done had to be done. Heart thundering, she repositioned the two flashlights and listened to her family climb the ladder. Her father’s head rose through the entrance first, followed by her mother’s. After they crawled in, their eyes took a moment to adjust to the light. Then Ian Malone absorbed his first glimpse of the mural and let out a groan.

“Maddy?” her mother asked faintly, her gaze darting across the image. Leanne, climbing in on their heels, remained silent, kneeling before the mural and memorizing every detail.

“When?” she asked finally, and then, “Who?”

Maddy began to speak, her mouth the opening onto a cave that went deep into herself. Each word was huge and dark, part of a truth that had lived long underground and was now rising upward, seeking light. She shook as she spoke; tears poured down her face; she had to keep wiping her nose on her sleeve. But the words knew themselves; they were ready to emerge. She trembled, but she did not falter. She told her family everything – date, names, the masks torn off.

They knew enough not to touch her until she’d finished. Even afterward, they sat a while apart, silently studying the mural. “What is this?” asked Leanne, pointing to the cream-gold sphere.

Maddy felt the wistful smile that slipped across her mouth. “That’s The Beautiful Land,” she said. “Where I went when it happened – where a part of me went. It was beautiful there. No bad things happened. The Beautiful Land took care of that part of me until it could come back.

“The rest of me that never left…well, this is what helped me here.” Getting to her feet, Maddy undid her jeans and let them drop. Then she pointed to the burn scars that ravaged her inner thighs.

Her father sucked in sharply. Her mother moaned. “The bastards,” Leanne whispered. “I’ll kill every one of them.”

“It helped me,” Maddy said hoarsely. “I needed it for a while. I don’t anymore.”

“Thank god for that,” said her father.

Maddy pulled up her jeans.

“I feel so badly that you couldn’t tell us sooner,” said her mother. “What did we do wrong? I’m sorry—”

“It’s not your fault,” Maddy assured her. “It was just too awful. Like a killer living inside me. It felt like I would die if I even thought about it.”

“Oh, honey,” said her mother. “Come here.”

Maddy crawled into her mother’s arms and stayed.

“Maddy,” said her father. “A Mr. Vaughn called tonight, from your school. He told me about some boys who tried to push you into a washroom. Was that somehow connected to this?”

Maddy nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Kids have been on my case about it. There’s been other stuff too.”

“Tell me about it,” muttered Leanne.

Her father was silent a moment. “Well,” he said slowly, “there seems to be so much we don’t know about. I don’t want to push you, but how are you now? I know it’s tough, but the police…” His voice trailed off.

“The police didn’t help Rehtaeh Parsons,” said Maddy. “And I don’t even have a photograph.”

“We have to try, honey,” said Ian Malone. “Those boys could do it again. To someone else. We’ll be with you, every step of the way.”

“Rehtaeh’s family loved her, too,” said Maddy.

Her mother hugged her tightly. “What happened to Rehtaeh was very, very sad. But we can’t stay there, Maddy. We have to move forward. We have to believe change is possible.”

“Yes,” whispered Maddy. “I know it has to happen – the police and all that. But it’s just…. It’s going to be hard. I’m not sure…”

“Not sure what?” her father asked gently.

Maddy’s face crumpled. “Not sure I’m strong enough,” she said, breaking down again. “I want to be, but I don’t know if I can.”

Taking one of her hands, her father waited until her sobs quieted. “I think you’re strong enough,” he said. “I can see it in that mural you drew – incredible strength and courage. But when you need a little extra strength, Maddikins, we’ll be here. Your mother, Leanne—”

“You got it!” interjected Leanne.

“And me,” finished Ian Malone. “All of our strength together – for you. Okay?”

Maddy took a shuddery breath. “Okay,” she breathed.

“How about we go now?” said her mother. “It’s only 8:20. We’ll set the security alarm, and then we’ll all go together.”

“First, let me get the Nikon to take some pictures of this mural for the police,” said Mr. Malone. “It’ll do a better job than my phone. That is, if it’s okay with you, Maddy.”

Maddy nodded. A half hour later, the entire family was on its way to the downtown police station.