The Seduction of Ada

Robert waited with the professor in the living room, telling him to sit and shut up for a few minutes. He stood looking out the window watching for Professor Franks' wife, Terry to show up. Robert looked at Franks while he was waiting, thinking to himself, "What a shit head! He has a great job, a lovely, very nice wife and a boy and a girl, both in their early teens."

He saw Terry's car park and waited a couple of minutes more and then took Billy Franks back to the kitchen. He froze when he saw me there. I must have been a pathetic sight, even to Franks, even with him knowing he had done this to me.

There was blood at my crotch and several splotches scattered on my skirt. My face was streaked with tears, the top button of my blouse missing, showing my small cleavage. Standing there, smelling of my vomit, my hair wildly mussed up, I must have looked like a small child, a broken doll.

Robert spoke sharply, harshly to the soon to be ex-professor, "That's right, you piece of shit! Look at her!"

He reached over and grabbed Franks by his chin, squeezing firmly. "Look at me! Did you do this to her?"

The suddenly spineless teacher slumped and looked at the floor, tears coming to his eyes, slowly nodding his head, not able to look at anyone.

Robert grabbed his shirt and, speaking coldly, told him, "If I had my way you would spend the next ten or fifteen years at the state pen in Salem," pausing a bit for emphasis he continued, " ... where we send the murderers and rapists! Ada, for her own reasons, doesn't want that to happen. So you are going to sign this letter of resignation, to be effective immediately. Part of what's in the letter is a statement that you will never teach again!"

"You will not go back to the school for any reason. Any personal stuff we will send to you. If word of thisevergets out, I promise I will personally come looking for you. Now Ada has something to say and then one more person will want to talk to you."

I walked up to him, my lips twisted in anger, "I trusted you! You were my professor. You stole something from me today that can't ever be returned. More than that you stole my pride." I walked up close to him, looking in his eyes, seeing a beginning of blankness setting in, his eyes seeming to become opaque.

"I just have one thing to say to you. My dad gets home tomorrow afternoon and I'm going to tell him what you did. If you are smart, you will be at least two states away by then." I spit in his face and with all the strength of a lifetime as a tomboy in the outdoors, raised my knee to his crotch as viciously as I could.

I thanked Robert and Anne and started to walk out when I saw the professor's wife standing there, looking crushed with tears streaming down her face.

She stepped up to me, put her arms around me and held me tightly and muttered, "You poor, poor child," several times.

I walked out the back door, taking a shortcut home. I put my clothes in a bag for the trash and took a long shower and went to bed. I had a terrible headache, I guess from the booze, and took several aspirin. I lay there silently crying, crying for my lost dreams of love and children.

The next morning I walked over to Anne's to thank her again; she had always been very nice to me. She told me about what happened after I left.

"His wife was furious! I won't go through the gruesome details but she's leaving him and taking the kids. She's going back to Memphis where she's from and she told him that she was telling her family what he had done - without mentioning your name, dear. They will beat the crap out of him if he ever comes near her or the kids again. She is going to get a divorce in Tennessee on grounds of desertion."

Anne gave me a hug and continued, "It doesn't make up for what he did to you but it should stay quiet and you got what you wanted. He lost his job and will never teach again, he lost his wife and at the right time she will tell his kids what he did, just in case he ever tries to contact them later. If he does he will find that he has also lost the respect and love of his children! So you have taken from him the three most important things in his life."

That afternoon I sat down with my mom and dad and told them everything. This was the hardest thing I'd ever done. Daddy was furious and wanted to call the police, then wanted to go kill the miserable son of a bitch! I calmed him down, explaining why I had done what I did and what had happened to him. They hugged me tight and we all cried a lot. It hurt me to see them so sad.

I was able to finish the term and get my Associate Degree in Forestry. It was bittersweet to stand up on the dais and get the degree. I had worked so hard and was proud of what I had done but I had tears in my eyes for what had happened to me and for what I didn't have anymore.

A couple weeks after that I missed my period. The shock was almost as great as what happened at the lake. We worried about it for a few weeks and I finally decided to have the baby. I would not make any final decisions about keeping it now; I'd just wait and see. Shortly after that Grandma Pearl called mom and told me about this nice woman in Hood River that needed someone to help take care of her until her time ran out. I agreed to go up and meet them.

What had I learned from all that had happened? I remembered a quote one of my teachers wrote on the blackboards one day, I guess to inspire the students. It was from Mary Barnett Gilson," ... every experience in life enriches one's background and should teach valuable lessons."

Well I learned! I had two new rules to guide me in my life as I struggled for a direction:

1. Don't trust men.
2. Only drink with men I trust (see rule one).

On the bus from Bend to Hood River I was reading a novel by Oliver Goldsmith, written in 1762. I found a certain peace in reading the old classics. It was both fun and interesting to try to picture what life was like at that place and time. I ran across a stanza that would provide me with food for thought for months to come. At odd times the image of the words came to me:

"When lovely woman stoops to folly,
And finds too late that men betray,
What charm can soothe her melancholy,
What art can wash her guilt away?"

Looking out the window, thinking of those words, I came to the decision to keep the baby. My life would be with little Silvia Marie. Somehow I knew it would be a girl; the name was one I picked out as a child for one of my dolls. I would protect Silvia from a disaster like mine; I would forego men and their treacherous ways. I knew of folly and betrayal; I already had melancholy and guilt. My dreams of marriage died in the back of that pickup truck. My family would be Silvia.

LIFE AFTER DEATH

"If it is not a tragical life we live, then I know not what to call it."

Henry David Thoreau

Missy died in the days between Christmas and New Years and the funeral was on New Year's Day. We had Missy buried on the ranch outside Medford. She wanted to be next to the kids. The trip would have been too much for Ada so she stayed with her grandmother, Pearl, for the two days I was gone.

Driving home I had this sense of an ending and a starting anew. I couldn't keep my mind focused enough to really grab hold of the thought but it was there.

When I got back I walked over to Pearl's house to let them know I was back. I thought Ada would walk back with me but she looked at me funny, like she was scared of me. She asked if she could stay with her Grandmother for another day or so. Later over dinner I really started to wonder just what had happened to her. From things that Missy said, I knew that Ada had finally confided in her but Missy never gave any details. I realized then that having Missy with us had provided a buffer between Ada and I, a sort of security blanket for Ada.

I thought about it for a while and wished Missy had clued me in on what had happened to Ada. I decided I'd better be very gentle with her and give her the space it seemed she needed.

That night I had the dream again. The last time I had it was the day we heard about Bobbie's death at Khe Sanh. The dream was of blood... blood on my face and hands. In the dream I could not wash it off and it kept spreading, covering more and more of my body. My body and soul was stained with a suffocating redness that turned black in my mind.

~~~~~~

"We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he today that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother."

Henry V, IV,iii,60

We had taken Henderson Field from the entrenched Japanese forces. Somehow they had no front line troops holding the field – just the construction workers and support elements. The company commander, Captain Hewitt, called the officers and NCOs together for a briefing. The latest intel said the Japs had moved major combat elements to Guadalcanal to take the airfield back.

What was making it look bleak was that the navy had taken off before we got much of our heavy artillery unloaded. I was a corporal then and our platoon was tasked with finding out the enemy strength and troop dispositions.

The platoon leader, Lt. Zimmerman, led us out quietly at 0100. The second squad had point and my squad was bringing up the rear. We were going in the jungle at the edge of the clearing at the top of the ridge. After about 500 yards we turned off down a path towards the river. We were specifically looking for infiltrators trying to bypass the ridge.

About 200 yards down the trail the point squad was met head on with what sounded like a company of the enemy and the other two squads were hit from the uphill side of the trail by what sounded like another company. Both of the attacking forces had machine guns. I signaled my men to drop off the downhill side of the trail and led them slowly forward. We needed to get into position to see what we could do to help.

We were a heavy weapons squad with a BAR and a couple guys carrying ammo for it. We got close enough we could see from the firing which side was which. Johnny, the guy with the BAR, was a big kid from Arkansas. The Browning Automatic Rifle was a heavy son-of-a-bitch, weighing almost sixteen pounds. It took someone with a little heft to handle it. The ammo is really heavy too. Given that the BAR could shoot around 450 shots a minute made it a definite team weapon, considering the total weight of weapon and ammo.

We spotted a small group of the Japs trying to encircle what was left of the platoon so I told Johnny to take them out. He opened up and I could see from the flashes some of the enemy soldiers going down. Suddenly, not more than fifty yards from us and down the hill a little, a Japanese machine gun opened up. From the sound it was a Taisho 11 Light Machine Gun. It was fairly light for a machine gun and easier to carry in the jungle. Its downside was a smaller cartridge.

Their first burst took out Johnny and the two ammo carriers... it just cut them to pieces. I grabbed the BAR – none of the guys left were big enough to handle it – and took off to the right of them a bit. I dropped down and threw a grenade, more to distract them than anything else. As soon as I saw the flash I jumped up and ran at them as fast as I could holding the BAR down and spraying them. Just as I got to their position I ran out of ammo. It looked like they were all dead so I turned back to see if anyone was bringing ammo.

While I had my head turned one of them with a dying strength jammed a knife in my calf. I spun around, yanked the knife out of my leg and sliced his throat with it. In the dim light, lit only by intermittent weapon flashes, his throat looked like an evil grin... blood spurting out in waves. Jerry arrived first carrying one of the ammo cans. I had him tape my leg as tight as he could and we edged uphill to the LTs position. We were able to make contact and moved in with the rest of the platoon. Out of the original 44 guys in the platoon there were only 13 effectives left.

The Japs had backed off and were just laying down harassing fire. I guessed they were waiting for reinforcements. Lieutenant Zimmerman had a nasty scalp wound and was bleeding heavily in spite of the bandage around his head. The platoon sergeant and the other three squad leaders were all dead leaving me in charge. There were too many wounded to carry back. I made a quick decision to carry the Lt. back and get reinforcements.

I told the guys that were still able to fight what I wanted them to do. I put the LT's pistol in my belt – anything else would be too heavy to carry. I picked him up in a fireman's carry and started back, returning the same way I came. Just before I got back to the trail at the edge of the clearing I almost bumped into a sniper that was getting ready to climb a tree. He looked over and saw me... and froze! His hands were both hanging onto a tree limb. I grabbed the pistol and put a round in the middle of his back. I guess I was just quicker than him. With the stopping power of the .45 I wasn't worried about whether he would come back at me.

Even at 150 pounds I was staggering with the LT's weight. What bothered me more was his blood dripping down my face and neck, some of it getting in my eyes. I was starting to panic from getting his blood all over me. I felt like the blood was running into my nose and my mouth, suffocating me.

I picked up the pace and got close to our line. I shouted out the challenge word and when I heard the response I hustled in. I was limping pretty badly by this time. The battalion XO was with my company commander and made a quick decision to send two platoons out with some stretcher-bearers. They tried to get me to stay behind but I knew I could get them there faster and safer. I showed him on the map where they were and asked him to fire some mortar rounds in a hundred yard semicircle past their location.

The Japs had backed off with the mortar fire and we were able to get in and get out fast. I helped one of the walking wounded back with his arm around my neck. We were able to bring all the dead back also.

Lt. Zimmerman lived and was out of the war. I wasn't so lucky. The bayonet went through the fleshy part of my calf. I bled a lot but there was no major damage. I got a month in Pearl and was back for the mop up of Guadalcanal.

For what I had done I got a piece of ribbon and metal that got Bobbie killed in Nam.

"I thought of all that worked dark pits
Of war, and died
Digging the rock where Death reputes
Peace lies indeed."

Wilfred Owen

~~~~~~

The next morning after the dream I felt out of sorts. Missy's death was expected but even so it was still a shock and a surprise. I guess I was feeling a little depressed, certainly down.

Ada came back over that afternoon. I guess she would have just stayed at her grandmother's house but it was a tiny place with only one bedroom. It was okay for her to stay for a short time but it was in no way big enough after the baby was born.

My office was in the basement. The house was on a hill, with the back on the downward slope, facing the morning sun. I had a large walkout sliding door so the room was very light. When I had remodeled it for the office I had also added a library – I had accumulated a huge number of books for research – and a good-sized bedroom with bath. The bath just had a shower but that was all I ever used anyway.

While Ada had been at Pearl's house I moved all my stuff downstairs. The room Ada had been using was pretty small and she had been using the upstairs guest bathroom. I thought this would give her more privacy.

When she got back I had put the small amount of clothes she had in our old bedroom and put all of Missy's stuff in bags. I thought about giving some of it to Ada but realized that Missy's stuff would be way too large for Ada.

I thought she would be really happy but when I told her when she walked in she looked upset. When I pointed out how much better it would work for the baby she blushed and stammered, " I... I thought it was about me leaving the bathroom door open. I swear that was an accident. I pushed the door closed but didn't notice it came back open a bit.

I laughed and said, "No, this will make it much easier for me since I spend a lot of time down in the basement when I'm writing anyway. This will give you more privacy and I'm sure you will appreciate that."

She didn't say anymore so I guess it was okay.

I wanted a dog for company and one that would be good for protection and if I was away and a dog that would be good around kids. A friend of mine from Portland was moving to England and wouldn't be able to take his four-year-old white boxer with him. The dog had been around kids his whole life so it should work out great. I asked Ada and she was excited about it. Her dad had always had two or three working dogs for his hunting of various types of fowl.

The dog's name was Sammy. When I talked to Ken, he said it was actually Samuel Adams but his wife refused to call him anything but Sammy. It was funny the way it worked out. I got the dog as a companion for me but within a day it was Ada's dog. I guess dogs are smarter than we think.

It was a strange interlude. It was in the middle of January and the rainy/snowy weather bleak and dark added to my depression. Ada was worn out and mostly slept on the sofa in the living room. It changed suddenly when her water broke. I've always been level headed and had gone through this a couple of times. The hospital was on 13th Street just above Jackson Park. My house was about two miles west of there so it was only a five-minute ride.

After we got her admitted and into a room I went in to see her. She was a surprisingly strong-will girl but she looked scared.

"Are you okay, Ada? Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Mr. Chance... David... I don't know if I can do this. I thought I was okay. I guess – I mean that I thought - I hoped Missy would be here to help me. Mom is coming up but they won't get here until tomorrow. If I asked you to do something for me would you do it?"

I didn't have a clue what she was talking about. Making a joke out of it I told her, "Ada, it's okay with me if you name the baby after me. At least it's okay if it's a boy."

Looking cross at me, she replied, "No, don't be silly," she answered. "Besides, it's going to be a girl and her name is Silvia. What I want - what I need is for you to be with me when the baby is born. I'm afraid!" she finished as she started crying.

I was stunned! I hadn't even thought about that. I had no general problem with doing it. After all I had been with Missy for both of our kids' birth back when it wasn't done very often. Those had always been my most treasured memories. But for Ada?

"Ada, I'm honored that you ask me and if you need me... well, sure! But I have to ask, why me? Sometimes I think you fear me or are at least uncomfortable with me. Don't you have anyone else?"

"I know, David, and I'm sorry. I can't talk about it yet but I have some problems... with men! Someday I'll tell you about it but for now, could you help me please?"

She was crying again and my heart melted. "Sure honey, I'm here." I whispered this as I took her hand.

It was a difficult delivery and took a long time, almost ten hours. The doctor was ready to do a C-section because Ada was so small but she preferred not to. I was doing the things I'd done before, calming her, talking soothingly and wiping her forehead with a damp cloth. It was a wonderful experience, one I thought I'd never experience again. The thought came to my mind as I watched Ada labor – maybe it was time to stop writing war novels and start writing love stories. Since Missy had died I hadn't felt like writing anyway.

Finally, the baby was delivered. Ada was right. It was a girl. The nurse handed her to me thinking I was the father and I held her looking at her as she struggled to open her eyes. At that moment I fell in love – a different kind of love than I had for Missy but just as deep. I cried thinking of the daughter I lost and knew I had a love for Silvia that would last and grow for the rest of my life.