Reviving Ophelia - Mary Bray Pipher [122]
Red-faced and flustered, he swore as he pushed Anna Lisa into the backyard and told her to go home. He said that he was only teasing and tried to hand her some money. This time, thank goodness, Anna Lisa couldn’t keep a secret. She ran home sobbing and told her mother what had happened and about Kyle as well. Her mother called the police and set up our appointment.
TERRA (15)
Terra was referred by her school counselor, who had been worried about her for some time. Terra had been failing classes and looking depressed. Then last week she’d come to school with a black eye. The counselor asked her about child abuse, but it turned out that the black eye wasn’t from her mother but from her boyfriend, who had “accidentally hit her.”
Today she sat quietly in my office, a small girl with dark hair and eyes. Only her fluttering hands betrayed her nervousness.
Terra said, “I don’t need to be here. Mom and my counselor are making a big deal out of nothing.”
“A black eye is nothing?”
Terra said, “Court would never have hit me if he hadn’t been drinking. He apologized and bought me a rose. It’s over. It won’t happen again.”
I asked about Court. Terra described him as seventeen, a high school dropout who worked at a body shop weekdays and customized vans on weekends. She said he’d had a tough life. His dad was an alcoholic and his mother ran around with other men. Court took care of his younger brothers when he was little. Even now he slipped them money.
They had been dating for a year and Terra wanted to marry him, but she admitted there were problems in the relationship. Court was jealous and controlling. He expected her to be either at school or at home waiting for him. He got mad if she even talked to other guys, and he didn’t like her to do things with her girlfriends.
I asked about school and Terra flung her arms up in despair. “I hate school. I’m killing time there until it’s legal to quit.”
Terra told me that her mom had quit school at sixteen to marry and she’d done just fine. Well, not with her marriage, which had ended in divorce when Terra was two, but with her money. She cleaned houses for a living and earned more money than lots of women with high school degrees.
I asked about depression and Terra denied any problems. She said, “I’d be okay if people would leave me alone.”
I asked about her family history. She talked about her parents’ divorce and her father’s remarriage and move to another state. She never saw him and heard from him only on her birthday and Christmas. For a long time he’d sent no child support, but now he did. Terra said, “Mom and I have plenty of money.”
In spite of her arguments with her mom over school and Court, Terra described her mother in positive terms. She said, “Mom’s a hard worker and she’d do anything for me.”
I asked about other family and she said, “I used to stay with my grandparents, but I don’t anymore. When I was little my step-grandfather did nasty things to me. I told Mom when I was seven and she stopped it. He’s in jail now.”
Terra looked even smaller and younger than when she came in. She yawned dramatically and said, “I’ve had enough for one day. I don’t like to talk about this.”
I asked if I could talk to her mother and she agreed. She said, “Let her tell you the details. I forget.”
Mona came in the next week. She was a small, wiry woman who looked a lot like Terra. But in contrast to Terra, she was energetic and talkative. Mona said, “I’m worried about Terra. Not so much her schoolwork—I did fine without school—but I don’t like Court. He’s bad news.”
I asked about Terra’s earlier abuse. She sighed. “Now, Irwin wasn’t my dad. He married Mom after Dad died, but Terra always knew him as Gramps. He was a big cuddly guy who wore overalls and kept candy in his pockets for kids. I thought he was great and he seemed to love Terra.”