Summer Winds-in part
Chapter Three
Joseph Wilson crept out of his fifteen-year-old daughter Gloria’s bedroom at three a.m. that Fourth of July morning and went back to bed with his wife, Prudence, Gloria’s mother. He wanted to get some sleep before finishing his preparations for Sunday’s sermon.
It was getting on his nerves that Gloria didn’t go to church. “I don’t feel well,” she would say to Prudence who would let her stay home because she “looked pale.”
Inevitably, Prudence would call to Joseph to come check on Gloria, who would lie in her bed stiff as a board when he sat down on the edge of it.
“You’ll feel better soon,” he’d whisper in her ear dancing his fingers lightly over her breasts. Prudence always stood directly behind him effectively blocking from her sight what he was doing—deliberately—he sometimes suspected.
He felt no shame at touching his daughter. It was his right to do as he pleased in his own house. After all, he was a man of God and the head of his own family. Still, he wished his wife would back him up and make Gloria go to church. What kind of mother was she anyway, to deny her daughter the word of God? How did Gloria’s rebellion look to the congregation who depended on him for spiritual guidance? That is what he’d like to know! After all, he had some important parishioners who depended on him; besides, Gloria would change her tune about him if she saw him in action. He excited women, he knew, once he got on that pulpit. He wanted his daughter to see how magnificent he was up there. Then she would be like the rest, he was sure of.
There was another whelp getting on his nerves a lot lately, too. Shannon Thompson did not like to be around him, he could tell. She would cringe if he touched her shoulder, or bent down to whisper something in her ear. She was lovely though. There was no reason he shouldn’t be the one to “break” her in.
Her mother was easy enough—not that she’d bed him—he didn’t want to bed her, she was too old. He courted her for a different purpose. She was the most important congregation member he had. She thought so highly of him, she helped him get elected parish pastor. She was a stellar leader in the community. With her backing, he could do anything he liked, but little Miss Shannon was another matter, and just the right age.
She made excuses to get away from him, and wouldn’t come to any of the children’s programs if he led them. He would handle her easily enough, he decided. He’d just have to wait for the right moment and the right moment always prevailed eventually. If after that moment arrived she were to say something about him to her folks, they wouldn’t be too hard to dissuade. After all, he was the pastor, she, just a hysterical little girl entering into puberty. It was always that easy.
Later on that day, and downtown, Gloria walked across the street behind Dennis Hanson to catch up with Judy Thompson, but the crowds were so thick, she visually searched them out but couldn’t see Judy.
Judy stood next to the Sands Café tucked behind those close to the street watching as Gloria walked past her. She called out, “Hey, you, I’m over here!” She yelled at the top of her lungs because of the size of the crowd. Everyone turned to stare at her. She didn’t mind; she lived for attention.
“What’s up with you?” She said when Gloria got close enough so that they could talk quietly. “You look down in the dumps?”
Gloria smiled. She wasn’t about to tell Judy what was wrong with her, what was going on at home; she knew Judy wasn’t anybody’s friend. Judy hung around with Gloria because she thought she could outshine her with her fancy clothes and pretty looks. Gloria didn’t care. She needed to hang around with someone and Judy was obligated to make friends with her. Judy’s mother had brought their family to Rutledge. Gloria was glad Judy adopted her as companion for the summer. She was easy to be quiet around, and so self-centered she didn’t look too hard at Gloria, which gave Gloria the anonymity she craved. She didn’t want any attention.
It was also through Judy that Gloria met Sam; now there was someone she felt she might be able to confide in, someone she suspected was abused, and knew was an out-cast, shunned by a lot of townspeople. She doubted he’d look down on her if he knew, but still she doubted that she could open her mouth to speak of what her father was doing to her; it was too horrible to tell.
“You don’t look so good,” Sam said, hitting Gloria’s arm playfully. He liked her, better even than Judy, but Judy put out and he found he liked that best of all.
“What’s it to you?” Gloria said playfully. She really wasn’t in the mood for horsing around, but she liked Sam enough to spar a bit. Deep down, she was really wondering how everything could look so normal, so nice, when at home her own father was raping her. Why aren’t their ragging fires, devastating earthquakes, and title waves crushing cities into the sea? How can the sun shine so beautifully? How can so many people have a look of joy on their faces in the midst of her devastation?She wonderedhow her father could treat her like a whore and not care. While those thoughts flitted through her mind, she stood erect and looked out into the crowd without saying a word.
Sam didn’t hold her attention long, and it grieved him as he watched her slip away into herself gazing about at the crowd. He wondered at the sudden change in posture, why her chin jutted out a bit in defiance. Whom was she defying? She reminded him of him, and he wondered what her story was? Was her old man as bad as his was? Maybe it was her mother. He doubted it though. Gloria’s posture was just like his; did she have a chip on her shoulder, too?
When she turned her attention back to the group, she looked angrily at all the boys there, including Sam, and wondered if he would do the same things to her as her father given half a chance.
“You look different,” Sam said staring into Gloria’s angry eyes.
Gloria glared back silently.
Judy didn’t like Sam fixing his attention on Gloria, so she slipped her arm though Sam’s batting her eyelashes up at him. She looked at Gloria feigning concern at Sam’s comment, although she didn’t say anything.
It was getting on his nerves that Gloria didn’t go to church. “I don’t feel well,” she would say to Prudence who would let her stay home because she “looked pale.”
Inevitably, Prudence would call to Joseph to come check on Gloria, who would lie in her bed stiff as a board when he sat down on the edge of it.
“You’ll feel better soon,” he’d whisper in her ear dancing his fingers lightly over her breasts. Prudence always stood directly behind him effectively blocking from her sight what he was doing—deliberately—he sometimes suspected.
He felt no shame at touching his daughter. It was his right to do as he pleased in his own house. After all, he was a man of God and the head of his own family. Still, he wished his wife would back him up and make Gloria go to church. What kind of mother was she anyway, to deny her daughter the word of God? How did Gloria’s rebellion look to the congregation who depended on him for spiritual guidance? That is what he’d like to know! After all, he had some important parishioners who depended on him; besides, Gloria would change her tune about him if she saw him in action. He excited women, he knew, once he got on that pulpit. He wanted his daughter to see how magnificent he was up there. Then she would be like the rest, he was sure of.
There was another whelp getting on his nerves a lot lately, too. Shannon Thompson did not like to be around him, he could tell. She would cringe if he touched her shoulder, or bent down to whisper something in her ear. She was lovely though. There was no reason he shouldn’t be the one to “break” her in.
Her mother was easy enough—not that she’d bed him—he didn’t want to bed her, she was too old. He courted her for a different purpose. She was the most important congregation member he had. She thought so highly of him, she helped him get elected parish pastor. She was a stellar leader in the community. With her backing, he could do anything he liked, but little Miss Shannon was another matter, and just the right age.
She made excuses to get away from him, and wouldn’t come to any of the children’s programs if he led them. He would handle her easily enough, he decided. He’d just have to wait for the right moment and the right moment always prevailed eventually. If after that moment arrived she were to say something about him to her folks, they wouldn’t be too hard to dissuade. After all, he was the pastor, she, just a hysterical little girl entering into puberty. It was always that easy.
Later on that day, and downtown, Gloria walked across the street behind Dennis Hanson to catch up with Judy Thompson, but the crowds were so thick, she visually searched them out but couldn’t see Judy.
Judy stood next to the Sands Café tucked behind those close to the street watching as Gloria walked past her. She called out, “Hey, you, I’m over here!” She yelled at the top of her lungs because of the size of the crowd. Everyone turned to stare at her. She didn’t mind; she lived for attention.
“What’s up with you?” She said when Gloria got close enough so that they could talk quietly. “You look down in the dumps?”
Gloria smiled. She wasn’t about to tell Judy what was wrong with her, what was going on at home; she knew Judy wasn’t anybody’s friend. Judy hung around with Gloria because she thought she could outshine her with her fancy clothes and pretty looks. Gloria didn’t care. She needed to hang around with someone and Judy was obligated to make friends with her. Judy’s mother had brought their family to Rutledge. Gloria was glad Judy adopted her as companion for the summer. She was easy to be quiet around, and so self-centered she didn’t look too hard at Gloria, which gave Gloria the anonymity she craved. She didn’t want any attention.
It was also through Judy that Gloria met Sam; now there was someone she felt she might be able to confide in, someone she suspected was abused, and knew was an out-cast, shunned by a lot of townspeople. She doubted he’d look down on her if he knew, but still she doubted that she could open her mouth to speak of what her father was doing to her; it was too horrible to tell.
“You don’t look so good,” Sam said, hitting Gloria’s arm playfully. He liked her, better even than Judy, but Judy put out and he found he liked that best of all.
“What’s it to you?” Gloria said playfully. She really wasn’t in the mood for horsing around, but she liked Sam enough to spar a bit. Deep down, she was really wondering how everything could look so normal, so nice, when at home her own father was raping her. Why aren’t their ragging fires, devastating earthquakes, and title waves crushing cities into the sea? How can the sun shine so beautifully? How can so many people have a look of joy on their faces in the midst of her devastation?She wonderedhow her father could treat her like a whore and not care. While those thoughts flitted through her mind, she stood erect and looked out into the crowd without saying a word.
Sam didn’t hold her attention long, and it grieved him as he watched her slip away into herself gazing about at the crowd. He wondered at the sudden change in posture, why her chin jutted out a bit in defiance. Whom was she defying? She reminded him of him, and he wondered what her story was? Was her old man as bad as his was? Maybe it was her mother. He doubted it though. Gloria’s posture was just like his; did she have a chip on her shoulder, too?
When she turned her attention back to the group, she looked angrily at all the boys there, including Sam, and wondered if he would do the same things to her as her father given half a chance.
“You look different,” Sam said staring into Gloria’s angry eyes.
Gloria glared back silently.
Judy didn’t like Sam fixing his attention on Gloria, so she slipped her arm though Sam’s batting her eyelashes up at him. She looked at Gloria feigning concern at Sam’s comment, although she didn’t say anything.