Friday, March 30, 2012

The Molester

   The molester was always trying to intimidate the kids, which were already deaf from all the screaming this type of environment creates. The molester was a forty year old man that used to be an ex soccer player for some second division team.
Trying to talk to him was so complicated cause he would just push you away and mumble something like “ get out of here already “. It didn’t matter if it was his wife, kids, grandkids, or friends.
At this point in his life he was living at the family house. A three-story house where the grandkids played at the backyard, the two sons had their own rooms and the wife and the molester shared the main bedroom. Everything in his life was negative. His garden was unfertile, slowly everything was deteriorating and looking damaged and uncared, everything was crumbling on top of him and everybody knew except him.
The kids used to jump rope by the backyard , he would usually just shout “stop making noise “ , but more often he would come to the backyard. The two kids would say, “ are you going to play with us today grandpa?” he would reply “ yes but its going to be a different game “. First he would let them jump the rope a couple of times, then he would lift the rope so the kid would fall. “ Get up already life is difficult and you have to learn that it’s not all fun and games “
The kid would get up in tears and a little bruised. He told the other girl Mary, his other granddaughter, to jump the rope too.” I don’t want to grandpa “ Mary said. “I’m not asking you its and order”.
At school the girls were very shy and had a dark aura around them, because nothing beautiful can grow up in an environment like that one. By carrying their grandfather’s madness on their shoulders without knowing it they were creating a prison that would hold them hostage for the rest of their lives.
At home it was calm and chaotic, it all depended if the molester was close by. If he was in his room it was usually calm except for his constant enjoyment of denigrating his wife, which he would scream at the top of his lungs “ you cant even match my socks, you cant even iron my shirts properly, you are not a woman, and that’s why you are a terrible mother and lover “.
Their two sons would work most of the day so they wouldn’t hear or see the molester but they knew, besides all the neighbors, the only ones who would see and hear everything were the two granddaughters.
Before the first granddaughter was born, there was a reception and a wedding. The oldest son was getting married so both families were present. It was in an old Peruvian cathedral. Since the bride was taking her time and the groom couldn’t see her before the wedding cause of superstitions, the molester went up the steps of the cathedral and opened the door without knocking and found her still half undressed. The molester went in and closed the door behind him, she told him to leave. Neither the high ceilings of the old cathedral nor the walls filled with gold were ready for what was about to happen. She kept shouting at him “ get out, I knew you were a fucking pervert”. He was oblivious to her words; he just kept coming closer to her. Right before he grabbed her, she spit on his face. He raped her with her wedding dress on for about eight minutes. She was crying on the floor in shock, that’s when the molester told her “now we know who the real father of your kid is going to be”. “Get up already I didn’t stain your dress, there is a wedding about to begin”.
She got up and started dressing in shock and ashamed, without knowing if she would tell her mother, father, or soon to be husband. In the back of her mind the thought that she was going to have a kid from the molester couldn’t be happening, it had to be a bad dream. She kept looking at the big old mirrors with gold on the sides, telling herself why me? Looking at the mirrors and feeling her future that she had worked so hard for was over. The mirrors reflected shame, anger, and still a face that wished this was just a bad dream.
She decided to go on with the wedding and never tell anyone what had happened that day. She stopped being so emotional and with a clear head, she thought about everything that would involve telling what had just my husband going to support me or is he going to believe I have been sleeping with him for a while? Am I going to have to raise the child with the molester if no one believes me? What about my career? Everybody is going to be talking about how I left the groom at the altar possibly and most likely for another man. Can I raise this child on my own? What am I going to tell him about who he’s father is? Can I escape this life and move far away to raise him on my own?
Finally, after all those thoughts, she grabbed her father’s arm to walk her through the aisle and to the altar. With pride her father gave her to the groom.
The wedding went on without any altercations. People were drinking, dancing, and eating. In Peru is a costume that the bride shares a dance with the father of the husband. Everybody was dancing and drinking when the molester took her by the hand and guided her to the dance floor. They danced the traditional vals without any problems. The molester kept saying to her “ now I know why my son married you “. The molester made a toast in front of everybody “ I’m happy today for this union, I wish both of you the best “. After everybody toasted and drank the champagne, he added, “ I hope that a grandchild is on the way “. Everyone laughed except the wife of course.
The molester enjoyed the pleasure of continuing denigrating the person he just molested. It was one of his trademarks to keep shoving it in their faces and also even years after the incident telling them again what he did to them. He would say it like someone tells a friend an anecdote. This gave the molester the feeling of control over the entire people he had hurt. In his mind it was like a part of them belonged to him now and forever.

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