Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1988

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The Daily Dormouse.
(aka Bike)
Part 1988
by Angharad

Copyright © 2013 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
  
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David helped me back to the house and I winced as I ran my bloodied fingers under the tap–cold water on a cold day–lovely, not. I patted them dry on some paper kitchen towel and as the feeling came back into them they began to sting. By this time David had come back to me with an ice pack.

“What’s that for?” I asked.

“You’ve got quite a bruise coming up on your face, thought it might help. I wasn’t sure how much you’re going to tell Simon about this.”

“Ugh,” was all I offered as he held the pack against my face, god it was cold–then it’s supposed to be. I took it from him and held it against my cheek–hopefully it won’t go up to my eye. David was saying something, but my mind was filled with what do I tell Simon–like do I tell him anything? He’ll go ballistic and in Danny’s fragile state, that won’t help anything. I think a little white lie is in order here, if the bruising doesn’t go.

“Can we keep this between us for now?” I asked David.

“Sure,” he shrugged, “I wondered if you might. Tea?” he pointed to the teapot he was holding.

“Please,” I must stop nodding, it makes my head hurt too much. “Where’s Danny?”

“I sent him up to his room.”

“Okay, I’ll drink my tea then go and speak with him.”

“D’you need me to come?”

“Thank you, but no–if I can’t deal with a mixed up kid what chance twenty somethings at the university?”

“Well shout if you do.”

“I don’t think he meant to hit me, it was reflex thing–I must have pushed his buttons–I didn’t mean to.”

“We do tend to lash out a bit more than you girls.” Coming from one of the gentlest men I know that was doubly surreal–seeing that his body was biologically female and mine was male, it seemed a bit upside down–but that’s what happens in our household, and he is a mean cook.

I drank my tea and took some Ibuprofen, hopefully the milk in my tea coating my stomach enough to make it safe to use–one has to be careful with NSAIDs, as they can cause gastric irritation. Time to see my errant son. I took a deep breath and went up the stairs, still holding the ice pack against my face.

I knocked and entered Danny’s room, he was pacing the floor like a condemned man awaiting execution of sentence. “I’m so sorry, Mummy, I didn’t mean to...” I interrupted him with placing a finger on my own lips and he shut up. I closed the door firmly and motioned for him to sit down.

“D’you want me to go? Shall I start packing?”

“For pity’s sake, Danny, shut up.” He stared at the floor his elbows resting on his knees and the tears dripping down his nose. I believed he was genuinely sorry for his act, as I was for apparently provoking him but I was in charge here and we’d do things my way.

“I accept your apology on the understanding that you never hit me again or any of the girls here.”

“I won’t, I promise,” he clutched the straw with two hands.

“Good. Now I don’t plan on telling your dad about this unless you want me to.”

“No I don’t,” there was a look of fear in his eyes when he considered the consequences of that. I didn’t think for one moment that Simon would get physical with him but just his size would be intimidating to a youngster half his size.

“Okay, so I think we’d better set some ground rules.”

He nodded.

“First; I have no desire for you to be anything other than my son–I don’t need any more daughters–okay?”

“Okay,” he sniffed with no more than a glancing eye contact.

“I don’t like your anti-gay attitude, and while I understand you’re angry at what happened, we have no evidence that those men were gay. In fact most male rapes are perpetrated by heterosexual men.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that.”

“It’s not a crime of sex but one of power–making someone do something against their will which is very personal and private, and because of that, it makes the effect on the victim much worse than say a simple beating.”

“I know, Mummy.” The tears started again.

I sat beside him and hugged him. “I can’t begin to know what you’re feeling from this, and I don’t expect you to be able to tell me–but I can promise that we, as a family, and I as an individual and your mother–will do whatever it takes to help you get over this experience.”

He nodded, the tears streaming down his face and I hugged him tightly and held him. “We all love you, son, and want to help.”

“I know,” he sniffed, “I just wish it had never happened.”

“If it was within my power to make that so, I would.”

“I will get over this,” he sobbed, “won’t I, Mummy?”

“Yes, you will, I promise.”

“Thank you, Mummy, I’m really sorry I hit you–I just felt so angry, so angry...”

“I understand, Dan,” I held him and rubbed his back.

We sat for a few minutes and he brought his emotions back under control. “Is Peter still coming on Sunday?”

“That was the plan, but I can cancel if you wish?”

“No, I’d like to see him.”

“If it gets too much, just tell me and we’ll let you withdraw.”

“I’ll be alright, I ’spect.”

“Okay. I’d better go and see what the others are up to.” I collected my ice pack and left him. I glanced in the mirror and noticed that my face had hardly any bruising at all and then at my hand, which had also seemingly repaired itself. I began to wonder if the light was beginning to take care of me without my asking, then I bumped into Trish and the smirk on her face made the penny drop.

“David said you fell over in the drive and bumped your face and hand.”

“Oh did he now?”

“Yeah, we reckon it’s because you’re so old–they say old people fall about all the time.”

“You what–you cheeky little monkey,” I snapped at her and she shrieked and ran off giggling. Two like her and I’d be a basket case–whatever that means.

“That looks better,” said David checking my cheek when I entered the kitchen.

“Why did you have to tell Trish?” of all people, I almost added.

“Because she can do this blue light stuff like you do.”

“Okay, when’s dinner going to be ready?”

“In half an hour.”

“Okay, I think I can last that long, what is it?”

“Frogs legs.”

“What?” I shrieked in horror.

He chuckled loudly, “Your face, Cathy, was a picture.”

“Damn you,” I snapped back, “Now what’s for dinner?”

“Sea bass.”

“Oh, that’s different, but why do they call it sea bass? They’re not freshwater fish anyway.”

“Don’t ask me, missus, I just cook the bleedin’ thing.”

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Comments

So...

So, you start and end this episode with blood. Hmmm. Come to think of it I've never actually had Sea Bass. Came close a time or to, but always ended up with something else. LOL One of these days.

As to the "strike out" by Danny. Boys and Girls can do things like that when things get too emotional and they can't come up with any way out. Striking out seems to blow off steam - for them - anyway. That said, it's not the healthiest way to blow off steam. And, for Danny to have decked his mom... That's really not so good and worth being a topic for discussion with Stephanie. (Also, looking into his fear of being turned into a girl as well as phobia of gays. I'd not be surprised if there's some overlap in there... Probably some stuff left over from his old "mate" Billie, too...)

Thanks,
Annette

Yet another good chapter Ang.

Rape has just so-oo many different ways of affecting the victim. I think it's hard for a counsellor or therapist to really get their heads around it. In my head, I've built a wall around it but the wall needs constant repair.

The most lasting damage for me is forever knowing that I voluntarily sunk so low whilst trying to stay alive in 1960. I continually have to acknowledge what I did and my only rationalisation is this. I was very young, very hungry and I didn't know what else to do. Stealing and begging was too risky because of the risks of getting caught by the police and not being able to escape.

It's no good any therapist trying to tell me it was not my fault, I was not to blame, I was doing it to stay alive. The fact is I chose to do it and that makes me amongst the lowest of the low.

Thanks for these chapters Ang. They help to convey the issues surrounding abuse and assault. Those who've suffered by such attacks have no need to refer to the chapters in any clinical or psychological sense. However the narrative helps to illustrate just how destructive and hurtful rape and indeed all other forms of sexual assault or abuse can be.

This afternoon, I listened to a programme on radio 4 whilst driving home. It was about the Rochdale Paedophile case and how badly the CPS handled it.

The child victims have been as badly traumatised by their betrayal in the legal system as they were traumatised by their violent abusers.

Thanks

Bev.

bev_1.jpg

After Cathy and Danny talked

things over, he has probably found a bit of psychic healing as he cried. With Trish zapping Cathy with the Blue Light, it also touched Danny and comforted him.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

I can understand his homophobia

50 years ago we used to go out at night and roll bums and make rude comments about gays. Click ahead 40 years, and suddenly I'm in the midst of it. Was God punishing me for my cheeky attitude?

Two years ago I became involved in a church that has been inexplicably, and insanely supportive of me, and I have enjoyed it greatly. They are absolutely accepting and never is there any mention of my past, and I have finally learned not to out myself.

Skip ahead to two months ago, and a Trans woman has walked into my church, my place of safety. Much to my shame and dismay, I have great difficulty dealing with her. She wears a gallon of makeup, and is way too out there in my estimation. Today, she brought another one with her, and I am just running on auto pilot, just feeling scandalous embarrassment and deep shame, but trying to do the right thing.

My issue is that I have worked very hard to be just like other women, blending in with the culture as seamlessly and as invisibly as I can. I absolutely believe the doctrines. These two don't seem to make any effort at all. They've been treated very badly at times, as I was for years. I should feel more sympathetic but I don't unless they clean up and act like proper women.

Sometimes I wonder if I should have just killed myself instead of inflicting myself on this church, as was my plan. I know there is a lesson to be had from all this, and I will. Right now, I am feeling particularly like a hypocrite.

It's up to you

... but killing yourself due to a church seems silly to me. You make your peace with your personal deity not a bunch of yahoos which from my experience I find to be typically hypocritical anyway. As you can guess I have given up on organized worship of any kind. The Goddess can take care of herself, thank you very much.

As for the obvious trans people, it is not your job to take care of them. They have the right to do what they do but they just have to reap the consequences. Sadly, outing yourself to these folks is probably for naught as one has to be pretty clueless not to realize too much makeup and poor dress sense is not what OTHER WOMEN wear. If they identify with a typically 'every woman' at all then they would know how other people think else they are acting like 10 year olds trying makeup for the first time *rolls eyes*. Sadly it of course will reinforce negative stereotypes of T girls being drag queens and the stereotypical negative connotations the straight public believe.

Kim

Bass

janet_L.'s picture

In North America, at least, various species of fresh-water bass are popular sport-fish, so the "sea" in sea bass is definitely significant.

A good tale, but this lacuna in your knowledge base needed touching up.

Bike is set in the UK

Angharad's picture

'Debate has been ferocious in Britain in recent years as to the origin of the word "seabass". The traditional word was "bass" but that has changed with the recent popularity of cooking programmes and the expansion of restaurant marketing, both of which have adopted the phrase "seabass".[citation needed] There is only one type of bass in the British Isles and thus the expression "seabass" is probably unnecessary.' Wikipedia

Angharad

i thought it prolly a

i thought it prolly a shortened form of "north sea bass"

“Frogs legs.”

I tried them once , And guess what ? They taste just like chicken, Well at least they did to me and my undeveloped taste buds ...
Maybe it was the thought of what they were that made Cathy throw her hands up in shock when she thought that was what David was cooking , To be honest though i have tried them once and would not bother again ,They look like just what they are and are a lot of hard work for the meat that i seemed to get off them, So as far as i am concerned the French are more than welcome to them .... Think i will stick to my Fish and Chips..

Kirri