More Secrets

 

B

onnie and I remained close friends since meeting in fifth grade. We shared a hatred of our fathers and turned to each other for emotional support when there was no one else to turn to. Bonnie was the only one who knew what my father had done to me.

Boys paid a lot of attention to Bonnie. She was very pretty and had a figure equal to Marilyn Monroe. However, she also had a reputation for being easy. She slept with every boy she met. I wanted to tell her what people said about her behind her back, but I was afraid to hurt her feelings.

Instead, I stood by and watched her turn into a wild young girl, looking for love in all the wrong places. It wasn’t long before the inevitable happened. Bonnie got pregnant.

I hesitated for a moment before asking. “Do you know who the father is?”

“No. It could be anyone.”

How could she not know who the father was? To hide my shock I changed the subject.

“What did your dad say when you told him?”

Bonnie wiped the tears from her eyes, voice barely above a whisper.

“He called me a fucking whore and told me to get out and never come back.” She buried her head in her hands and began to sob.

“I don’t care what happens to me, but I’m worried about my sister. She needs me.”

Four years younger and devastated when their mother died, Mimi looked at Bonnie as her surrogate mother. She would not survive without Bonnie.

“What are you going to do?”

“I got a job as a live-in babysitter with a family down the street. They don’t like Daddy much, they know about my situation, and said I could stay with them. I just want to make enough money to be able to move as far away from here as I can.”

“What about the baby? Are you going to keep it?”

Bonnie shook her head and stared down at her feet.

“I’m giving it up for adoption. There is no way I can raise a baby on my own. I am not ready to be a mother.”

Getting pregnant was the worst thing to happen to a girl. The shame it brought her and her family was unforgivable. The title, unwed mother, was an invisible tattoo stamped on her forehead, to be worn like the scarlet letter for the rest of her life.

 Often, a girl would disappear from school only to return six months later saying she had gone to live with a sick aunt. Everyone knew why she disappeared, but no one ever said anything.

No one thought much about the boy who had gotten her pregnant; the attitude was boys will be boys, but girls should know better.

Bonnie dropped out of school when she could no longer hide the swelling in her stomach. Every day after school, I stopped by the house to see how she was doing and to ask if she needed anything.

She hadn’t seen or spoken with her father since she moved out and although Mimi wasn’t allowed to visit, she came by every day after school for a few minutes before running home to fix dinner and clean the house. I wondered if Mimi would someday follow her sister’s example.

One afternoon, I went to the office with a note I had written saying I had a doctor’s appointment. Mom’s signature was easy to forge. I caught a bus to the airport and walked up the hill past my house. I wanted to spend the afternoon with Bonnie. I was worried about her and hoped I could cheer her up.

I knocked on the door several times without getting an answer. It was only 12:30 and the children she cared for didn’t come home from school until 3 o’clock. I assumed Bonnie had gone for a walk and would be back later.

I walked home and when I entered the house, I found it strangely silent. Mom’s car was not parked in the driveway, telling me she left for work early, and by this time, Daddy was usually at the neighborhood tavern.

As I walked down the hall, I heard sounds coming from my parent’s room. I heard two distinct voices and recognized both. Gripping the handle, I pushed the door open with such force it slammed against the wall with a loud bang that reverberated throughout the entire house.

Daddy and Bonnie lay on top of the bed, naked. Shocked and disgusted, I immediately began screaming at them, directing my initial anger at Bonnie.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

I immediately turned to my father. “You sick son-of-a-bitch!”

I ran out of the room and down the hall, pausing for a moment in the living room to catch my breath. I heard Daddy laughing and seconds later, Bonnie whisked past me, holding her shoes in one hand while trying to zip her dress with the other. I tried to call out to her, but when I opened my mouth, no sound came. She ran away, leaving me alone in the living room listening to Daddy calling out my name.

“Valerie, I was just trying to help. Don’t be such a prude. Bonnie is a big girl and besides, she came to me.”

Furious, I ran down the hall and into his room. He sat on the bed, still naked. I grabbed a blanket from the chair and threw it over him.

“What the hell do you mean, she came to you?” 

“Bonnie said she needed some money and I told her how she could get it. What’s the big deal?”

I grabbed the lamp from the nightstand and threw it at him, hitting the side of his head. He yelped in pain and then started to laugh again. If there had been a gun in the room, I would have shot him, but all I could do was call him a son-of-a-bitch again and stomp out of the room.

I went out onto the back porch, shaking, and sat on the bench beside the picnic table, head buried in my hands.

“When will it end?”

The anger I felt was unbearable. My frantic heart beat so hard, so loud, I couldn’t hear myself think. How could Bonnie do something so revolting? Why would she go to my father for help, knowing he was a disgusting bastard? Why would she do it to herself? Why would she do it to me?

I never spoke to Bonnie again. She phoned me several times, but I refused her calls. Three
months later, she had her baby and moved away. I learned, years later, that Daddy had given her $500 so she could get an apartment. I often wondered if they had continued to see each other or if it ended the day I walked in on them.

I never told anyone about it.