Strega - Andrew H. Vachss [17]
I heard a knock at the back door. Then another. And then three raps, short and sharp. Max. I opened the door to let him in. If the three raps had come first, I wouldn't have opened the door without a gun in my hand.
Max and Immaculata came in together. She greeted me the way she always does—a slight bow of her head over her hands clasped in front. Always formal. She sat down across the table from me. Max went around behind me so he could watch her lips when she spoke.
"What was that I was watching?" I asked her.
"That was what we call a 'validation,' Burke."
"Validation?"
"That little girl has gonorrhea—a sexually transmitted disease. It was my job to find out how she contracted it."
"And she showed you?"
"Yes. The large doll is her father. Many children, especially very young ones, have no ability to use a narration. Most of them don't even have the words for what has been done to them."
"I never saw dolls like that," I said.
"They're 'anatomically correct' dolls. Under the clothes, the bodies have genitals proportionate to their size. They have to be specific, especially when the children don't speak."
"You mean when they're too young?"
"Not necessarily. The child you saw is almost six years old. But she had been told that the 'game' Daddy plays with her is their special secret and she isn't to tell anyone."
"Did he threaten her?"
"No. In fact, most incest offenders don't use threats until their victim is a lot older than this one. The child almost instinctively knows something is wrong with the activity, but the combination of guilt and fear is usually enough to ensure silence."
"What was that thing at the end—with the arms on the doll?"
"Just what it looked like to you. Rage. Sexually abused children are often consumed with anger at the person who hurt them. And sometimes at the person who failed to protect them as well. Part of the treatment process is letting them know it's okay to say 'No!'—it's okay to be angry. The arms and legs of the dolls are attached with Velcro; the children can tear them apart—and maybe put them together later, if they come that far."
"Doesn't the kid live with her father?"
"She lives with her mother. The incest happens during the time she visits him."
"No more visits for him?"
"That's really up to the courts. When the child showed signs of having been sexually abused, the mother took her to a doctor. She didn't know what was wrong, but she knew something was. The doctor didn't find anything physical—he never thought to check for V.D., it never occurred to him. The actual diagnosis wasn't made until weeks later—when the mother took the child to the emergency ward because of a vaginal discharge. The child was referred to a program where they do therapy and also teach the children physical and emotional self–defense. I work there too—I need the supervision to qualify for my license here. What I was doing in the playroom was preparing the child for supervised visitation with her father. She has to know she can confront her father and tell him to stop, and she has to feel protected if she is to do that."
"Why should this maggot get any visits with her?"
"That's a good question," she said. "The answer is that the child must work through her own rage at what happened to her. She has to recapture a sense of control over her life. The supervised visits are not meant to benefit the father—they are therapeutic for the daughter. And, at the same time, the father can start his own treatment."
"How about if he denies the whole thing?"
"They usually do, at first. But eventually, most of them do acknowledge what they have done—covering it, of course, with a thick layer of self–justification."
"What justification?"
"Oh, that the child was the instigator…that this was nothing more than showing his affection in a special way…minimizing
"What bullshit. Is he going to be tested for gonorrhea?"
"Yes, he will be