BEN
It’s 8 am and not a word has been mentioned about going to the police station. I know the way, I can drive up there myself but my hands and legs no longer seem to function anymore.
Gracie shifts closer to me and wraps her arms around me. We are hiding out in my room because the awkwardness at breakfast was worse than last night’s dinner.
They haven’t fought again but they are most likely not on speaking terms. I’ve tried to put myself in Josef’s shoes, as a father, what would I do? I understand his need to protect his daughter but she’s evil. Yet I can’t bring myself to be mad at him. It’s like the way I’m overprotective of Asher. If he’s in the wrong, I can’t confidently say I’ll give him up.
“What are you thinking about?” Gracie asks. She tries to smoothen the lines on my forehead and I wrap my hands around her tiny wrists. Her lips curl in a smile. “I’m here for you. You know that, right?”
Pushing her sunglasses above her head, I say, “You have to promise me something.”
“I promise.”
I laugh. It’s the first time I’m laughing since last night. “You don’t even know what I want to ask.”
“But I know I’ll do it for you,” she replies. Her lips brush mine in a brief kiss. “Anything for my Benny.”
“When we have kids, even if they have been bad, you promise to believe them when they come to you for stuff like these.” Maybe if Mum believed me, it would never have gone this far. Gracie tries to pry her hands from my hold but my grip tightens. I need her to promise. “We must believe them. Okay?”
“Okay. I promise.”
That’s why I love her. We are not perfect but we try.
I rise to my feet when the screen of my phone lights up with a text. It’s 8:30 am. The drive to the police station will take thirty minutes. Gracie also stands with her arm wrapped around my bicep. She nestles her head in the crook of my neck for a few minutes as if she knows I need those seconds of reassurance.
I have her. I am not alone.
I chant this mantra while walking down the stairs. There’s no one in the living room. The kitchen is also empty. I switch on the television and flip through channels till we settle on one.
We comfort each other with our presence for another fifteen minutes before I go restless again.
“They are taking too long,” I tell Gracie. I want this to be done and over with so we can leave. I don’t like this place. I don’t like this city. It holds bad memories for me and the only good things are Asher, Josef, Mum and Gracie. She tries to smile but it fails. “I think I’ll go check them upstairs.”
She gives me a thumbs up and I hurry up the stairs. In front of their room, I knock twice and a soft voice ushers me in. I open the door and my steps falter.
It’s my first time in their room. It’s as big as the living room or even bigger. Mum is on the bed, she looks up to me with red-rimmed eyes and tries to smile through her tears. She pats the spot beside her and I sit. We stay in that silence for some seconds before she slips her hand into mine. I hug her, my jaw rests on her head and she starts crying again.
“He’s not coming,” she says.
A blunt knife twists in my guts. I guess I knew I would always be the second option but it’s still heartbreaking to hear it. I rub my sweaty palms on my jeans. Eyes identical to mine stare back at me with so much emotions. I’m a bit numb. If I go through the process like an outsider, it will be easier to handle the flashbacks or narration required of me.
“It’s hard for him. That’s why we fought.”
“It’s okay. It’s fine,” I reply though I’m not entirely convinced I’ll be fine. This could go wrong. “You’ll be there, Gracie will be there.” If Asher wasn’t in school, he would have volunteered to follow me even without having an idea what was happening. “That’s all that matters. Gracie is waiting downstairs, we are ready if you’re ready, Mum.”
I wait behind for her to apply some makeup. She fixes her face in silence, swiping brushes and foams across her cheeks. When she is done, she walks over to me with a smile and takes my hands.
“How do I look?”
It’s a silent request for me to forget what I saw earlier. “You look very pretty, Mum.”
There’s an aura only a mother can exude. It oozes off her and wraps around me like a warm blanket on a rainy day.
“Josef is not a bad man, you know?” Her makeup is flawless. Knowing she was crying a few minutes ago and is all so perfect right now reminds me of Olivia. We are all broken, every single one of us. Some are just better at hiding it than others. “She’s his daughter and he is still in denial. Going to the station makes it real. But I don’t care, we are going through with this, okay? I’m here for you, Benny.”
Anger flashes through me. If she had been there for me earlier, we wouldn’t be here. The anger leaves as fast as it came, I am used to those flashes of raw emotions. We exit the room and Gracie brightens up once we step in. We sit behind while Mum drives.
The drive to the station is a blur, including the walk inside. Temperatures drop when we are inside. We sit on the bench lining the walls while Mum talks to a police officer. I watch everything like an outsider till the questions are turned on me. Gracie gives my hand a firm squeeze, drawing me back to reality.
I blink morosely at everyone staring at me in anticipation. Sadly, as an adult, I have to do the talking myself. I wish someone else would do it on my behalf because I don’t want to narrate the whole experience again, much less to professional strangers.
“We will need to talk in private,” the voice says. It’s one of the policemen Mum approached. He motions to a long corridor like I know what lies ahead.
The man must have sensed my hesitation, he offers me a kind smile. I wonder if it’s real or fake. Maybe he will laugh at me later for coming up here to file a report for sexual assault. Men don’t do shit like these. They man up and live the rest of their lives without mentioning this to anyone. It’s the norm.
A tap on my shoulder drags me out of my daydream. Gracie appears in front of me. “If you don’t want to do this today, that’s completely okay,” she whispers. “We can come another day.”
But we don’t have time. Our break is for only a week so I have to use the free days wisely.
“I want to do it,” I whisper back. Mum flashes me an encouraging smile. Gracie slips off the memory bracelet and pushes it into my wrist. My heart skips at the thought of being away from her for the next few minutes or hour. I don’t want to be alone with that officer. “Don’t go anywhere, okay?” I say instead. She makes the criss-cross sign on her chest and her cuteness elicits a smile from me. “I love you.”
“I love you more. I’m right here. Waiting.”
The officer starts walking and I follow behind him. Right before he turns the corner, I look behind to check if Gracie is keeping to her words. She’s still there, hands tucked in her pockets. That’s good. I can do this. As long as she’s here, I’ll be fine.
He gives me a nod at the entrance of the room that is more like a cubicle. With the grey walls and scanty furniture, I feel like a suspect about to be investigated. He tells me to get comfortable but that’s impossible. Comfort is where Gracie is.
I fiddle with the charms on the bracelet as he reads out some jargon to me. I can take a break if I want. I mustn’t say what I don’t want to. It’s all nonsense.
If I don’t say it all today, I’ll have to come back tomorrow or some other day. Who wants to go through this tortuous process again?
I hate it here.
I want my Gracie here.
I want to go home and cuddle with her. Skin to skin, no sex or kisses. It’s the best form of cuddling.
A click goes off. I notice the voice recorder on the desk for the first time. I recline on the soft couch and the officer offers me one of those sympathetic smiles. He starts off easy with some generic question I know will lead up to the bigger moment.
The pressure in my chest builds each time he nods. I don’t know if he’s listening to me or pretending to. His face is schooled into a mask, I can’t tell what he’s thinking. I repeat most of what I told Gracie, doing well not to appear vulnerable. I have to be strong and keep up the facade. Like mum and Olivia, I can only show weakness to the ones I love.
He seems to pay rapt attention to each word I say and it’s relieving. “Where were your parents when all these were happening? Did you live with them?”
“Yeah but my dad was dead. Mum remarried.”
He props his elbows on the table and I sit up, spine stiff and straight. I feel like his next question will annoy me. “What about your mum? Where was she?”
Something tells me a wrong answer will put Mum in trouble, so I shrug. He can’t hold me accountable if I say nothing. My countenance must have made him realise he won’t be getting any more answers from me and his head lowers in a mocking bow.
“I guess we are done here, Mister Benjamin.”
“I guess so.”
“You might be called in anytime in the future for some questioning. I hope you’re okay with that?”
No. “Sure.”
The screech of his chair as he rises to his feet irks the shit out of me. He tucks his pen into his breast pocket, takes one step towards the door and turns around to face me. I don’t like this man one bit.
“One more thing,” he says in a tone that promises doom. “Do you want to press charges against her?”