Peering through the Kaleidoscope (Trigger Warning)
I need to share. I need to share with you some of the scenes from my kaleidoscope of memory. I hope you are there. I hope you will listen. It's time to tell what I remember, in the hope that I might heal, in the hope that I might remember more.
My abuser was my older brother. He was almost three years older than me. Not a great difference in age and yet it made a world of difference back then. Me and my younger brother looked up to Thomas. He was clever. He was handsome. He was dashing. Yes, Thomas was everything that an older brother should be. But Thomas was also mentally ill.
No one knew it back then. It would be many years before Thomas would finally be institutionalized. And to my parents, it would seem as if his illness came out of nowhere. But me and my younger brother knew better. We knew all there was to know about Thomas and his cruel games.
One day, for example, Thomas called me to the kitchen and pointed to the stove. It was an old-fashioned kerosene stove with burners on one side and a griddle area on the other side. Most of the time the griddle was off, unless our Mom was in the kitchen. So I had no reason, no reason at all to suspect what was about to happen.
"See there!" Thomas said. "Someone left a nickel on top of the stove. You can have it if you want."
I was so little that I had to stand on tippy toe to see that nickel. And when I saw the nickel, I was really excited. Keep in mind that this was many years ago, many years ago when you could actually buy a candy bar for just a nickel.
"Do you mean it?" I said. "I can really have it?"
"Sure," Thomas said. "It's all yours. Just pick it up."
Of course, I didn't know that the griddle was on. When I picked up the nickel, it was very hot. But how badly did I burn my hand? This I don't remember. And why did I not go running to my Mom? What had Thomas said to frighten me from telling? I do not know. I want to know. But it is here that the kaleidoscope changes and another scene is revealed.
I am still small. Thomas has me in bed with him. He has taken off my underpants and is playing some game with me, some game that I don't understand. I don't like his games. So I must have made a lot of noise. Yes, I must have made a lot of noise because my father is coming up the stairs now.
Thomas throws my underwear across the room. I run out of his bed to retrieve them and just then my father enters. My father doesn't understand. He doesn't understand what is happening. He only sees me out of bed, long after all us kids had been warned to settle down. And he does something that I will never forget. My father spanks me. It is the first and only time that he has done this. Never again will he take a hand to me. But I cry. I cry because it is so unfair. Thomas was the one who was playing the game. Thomas was the one who should be punished.
Time passes. Thomas is now a teenager. And being that he is a teenager, my parents feel safe leaving myself and my younger brother in his care. They do not know that as soon as they pull out of the driveway, my younger brother and I run to find a hiding place. But wherever we go, whatever we do, Thomas catches us. One by one, he corners us and does things to make us cry. Sometimes he hurts us with his hands. Sometimes he hurts us with his words. But we are trapped. And worst of all, I can't protect my younger brother. I can't even protect myself. And I pray that my parents will come home soon. I want to tell. I know that if I tell, my parents will put a stop to it. Yet Thomas has made his threats very clear and so we keep silent. Yes, we keep silent and the kaleidoscope keeps shifting.
Thomas is in bed again. Just like when I was little, he wants me to get in bed with him and play a game. But I am older now, almost a teenager. I do not want to play any games with my brother. I want to leave. Just then I turn to go but Thomas pulls me back.
He lifts back the covers and I see that he is naked. How odd! I think. How odd does his "thing" look. It has hair. Little tufts of black hair starting to come in. Later I will know that this is pubic hair. But back then it just seems odd, a kind of curiosity like something you might see at a circus. Or like something you might see through a kaleidoscope. He has me by the arm. I am too old. Too old to play these silly games with my brother.
What does he want? What is he going to make me do? What will happen next?
Here the kaleidoscope changes once more. My memory fades out when I most want to know. I am sickened by the possibilities. What happened next? What did he make me do? Will I ever know?
Yes, my memory is like a kaleidoscope. It keeps shifting. It keeps changing. But the images that I see haunt me.
Thank you, friend. Thank you for peering through my kaleidoscope. I wish there were more. But that is all. That is all that I remember, at least at this point.
Oh...there is one other thing. A smell. A smell that has haunted me for years. I can't describe it. Yet somehow I know it. Somehow I know it has something to do with Thomas.
But just as I am on the verge of recalling something, the odor is gone.
My abuser was my older brother. He was almost three years older than me. Not a great difference in age and yet it made a world of difference back then. Me and my younger brother looked up to Thomas. He was clever. He was handsome. He was dashing. Yes, Thomas was everything that an older brother should be. But Thomas was also mentally ill.
No one knew it back then. It would be many years before Thomas would finally be institutionalized. And to my parents, it would seem as if his illness came out of nowhere. But me and my younger brother knew better. We knew all there was to know about Thomas and his cruel games.
One day, for example, Thomas called me to the kitchen and pointed to the stove. It was an old-fashioned kerosene stove with burners on one side and a griddle area on the other side. Most of the time the griddle was off, unless our Mom was in the kitchen. So I had no reason, no reason at all to suspect what was about to happen.
"See there!" Thomas said. "Someone left a nickel on top of the stove. You can have it if you want."
I was so little that I had to stand on tippy toe to see that nickel. And when I saw the nickel, I was really excited. Keep in mind that this was many years ago, many years ago when you could actually buy a candy bar for just a nickel.
"Do you mean it?" I said. "I can really have it?"
"Sure," Thomas said. "It's all yours. Just pick it up."
Of course, I didn't know that the griddle was on. When I picked up the nickel, it was very hot. But how badly did I burn my hand? This I don't remember. And why did I not go running to my Mom? What had Thomas said to frighten me from telling? I do not know. I want to know. But it is here that the kaleidoscope changes and another scene is revealed.
I am still small. Thomas has me in bed with him. He has taken off my underpants and is playing some game with me, some game that I don't understand. I don't like his games. So I must have made a lot of noise. Yes, I must have made a lot of noise because my father is coming up the stairs now.
Thomas throws my underwear across the room. I run out of his bed to retrieve them and just then my father enters. My father doesn't understand. He doesn't understand what is happening. He only sees me out of bed, long after all us kids had been warned to settle down. And he does something that I will never forget. My father spanks me. It is the first and only time that he has done this. Never again will he take a hand to me. But I cry. I cry because it is so unfair. Thomas was the one who was playing the game. Thomas was the one who should be punished.
Time passes. Thomas is now a teenager. And being that he is a teenager, my parents feel safe leaving myself and my younger brother in his care. They do not know that as soon as they pull out of the driveway, my younger brother and I run to find a hiding place. But wherever we go, whatever we do, Thomas catches us. One by one, he corners us and does things to make us cry. Sometimes he hurts us with his hands. Sometimes he hurts us with his words. But we are trapped. And worst of all, I can't protect my younger brother. I can't even protect myself. And I pray that my parents will come home soon. I want to tell. I know that if I tell, my parents will put a stop to it. Yet Thomas has made his threats very clear and so we keep silent. Yes, we keep silent and the kaleidoscope keeps shifting.
Thomas is in bed again. Just like when I was little, he wants me to get in bed with him and play a game. But I am older now, almost a teenager. I do not want to play any games with my brother. I want to leave. Just then I turn to go but Thomas pulls me back.
He lifts back the covers and I see that he is naked. How odd! I think. How odd does his "thing" look. It has hair. Little tufts of black hair starting to come in. Later I will know that this is pubic hair. But back then it just seems odd, a kind of curiosity like something you might see at a circus. Or like something you might see through a kaleidoscope. He has me by the arm. I am too old. Too old to play these silly games with my brother.
What does he want? What is he going to make me do? What will happen next?
Here the kaleidoscope changes once more. My memory fades out when I most want to know. I am sickened by the possibilities. What happened next? What did he make me do? Will I ever know?
Yes, my memory is like a kaleidoscope. It keeps shifting. It keeps changing. But the images that I see haunt me.
Thank you, friend. Thank you for peering through my kaleidoscope. I wish there were more. But that is all. That is all that I remember, at least at this point.
Oh...there is one other thing. A smell. A smell that has haunted me for years. I can't describe it. Yet somehow I know it. Somehow I know it has something to do with Thomas.
But just as I am on the verge of recalling something, the odor is gone.
