High School Again? Ugh! Ch. 08

"He always brought gifts when he visited. The girl's was an expensive dress. It was absolutely gorgeous. She could picture herself wearing it to her first high school dance. She even knew who she'd be dancing with. There was a special boy she hoped would ask her." Tara paused and I squeezed her hand in support. She smiled, but there was no joy in it.

"The weekend came and her parents had a party to go to. Uncle Kyle volunteered to stay home and watch her," Tara continued. "At first they had fun playing some games, but he was a drinker and after an hour or so he started insisting she try on the dress he bought."

"He kept drinking, telling her how good she looked in it and how grown up the dress made her seem. He even let her sip from his glass. The drink was very strong and she became drunk quickly. That's when he suggested that they dance."

I suddenly realized where this story was going. I was horrified, but I was careful to keep a very neutral expression. Tara was watching me and I could tell she'd stop at the slightest provocation. This was obviously extremely hard for her to say. There was a fragility about her as she spoke that I never expected. She was telling this story in third person, but it was clearly too personal for it to be about someone else.

"The first kiss surprised her," Tara said, fighting off her own tears as she spoke. "But that surprised turned to horror when she realized what he was trying to do. She fought, but it was pointless. Her uncle Kyle was a full grown man and much stronger than her." Tara paused and shook her head before continuing. "The short of it is that he tore the brand new dress from the girl's body and had his way with her."

Tara was looking at me now, but I had no idea how to react. There was a part of me that wanted to insist things like that didn't really happen, but I knew they did. Yet, knowing and hearing Tara's story was something else.

"Her parents came home eventually," Tara continued. "But it was only her mother who found them. The girl was lying on her bed crying when the woman walked into the bedroom. What was left of the new dress was under her and stained with her blood. Her uncle Kyle was half passed out."

"What happened?" I asked, despite my promise to remain silent until Tara was done.

"Nothing much," she replied. "Her mother woke her brother and kicked him out of the house, but she decided to hide what happened. She carried her daughter to the bathroom and helped her shower."

"That's horrible!" I cried. Tara frowned at my outburst, but somehow I think it helped calm her.

"Yes it was," she agreed. "But what made it worse was that the girl was hurt very badly. Three days later she almost died. The doctors had to operate and by the time they were done she couldn't have kids any longer." Telling that part seemed more difficult for Tara than sharing the actual assault. She fell silent for a few moments. The only thing I could think to do was squeeze her hand to let her know I was here for her.

"When her father found out what happened he lost it," she finally began again. "It ended up in divorce. Her father sent her to counseling and it helped, but only a little. That went on until high school started."

I knew what came next. I knew Tara was going to tell me about how she rebelled and started wearing black, cut her hair and starting wearing crazy makeup. It all made sense now. Only, that's not what she said next.

"The girl went to high school and did her best to fit in," Tara said, surprising me. "But it wasn't easy, especially when it came to boys. They scared her after what happened. She actually switched out of one class because there was a male teacher who reminded her a little too much of her uncle despite everyone saying how good the teacher was."

"And then the boy who she hoped would ask her to the first dance actually asked her out," Tara continued, smiling at me. "She had a crush on him all the year before and they talked a lot in eighth grade. He was the one guy she didn't feel threatened by."

"So she said yes?" I asked.

"Actually," Tara answered, no longer smiling. "She burst into tears and ran away." She was obviously having difficulty continuing. She was tearing up again.

I was confused. I had been certain Tara was telling me her story, but it didn't make sense now. I remembered my first sight of her freshman year. She was in no way trying to fit in. I wanted to ask whose story she was telling and why it affected her so strongly, but I knew that would be a mistake. I needed to let her finish.

"The boy followed her and caught up outside of the school," Tara added. "Before she realized it, she was telling him the whole story. He was holding her while she stood there sobbing by the end."

"He was a good guy," I put in, causing her to smile once again despite her tears.

"Yes, he was," she said confidently. "He didn't blame her. In fact, he refused to take no for an answer when he asked her out again."

"What happened to them?" I asked.

"Well," Tara sighed, letting go of the pent up emotions. "They dated throughout high school and college and were married not long after. They spent the next fifty-three years together until he died one night in his sleep. The girl who had turned into a woman had only one regret at the end."

"What was it?" I asked.

"That she couldn't give him children," Tara replied. "He would have made a great father, and she would still have had a piece of him after he was gone. It would have been carried by their children and grandchildren. Instead, she felt completely lost and alone once he was gone."

"That's sad," I mused. "But the way you describe him I'm sure he was happy for having her in his life no matter what the cost."

"That's what he always said," Tara said, smiling sadly once more. "But still, it was the one thing she could never give him."

"Did they adopt?" I asked.

"No," Tara replied. "She regretted it later on in life, but she refused to even contemplate it when they were younger. It was just too painful."

We fell silent for a few minutes. I could see Tara's mind spinning. She was clearly lost in thought. Eventually, she squeezed my hand and took another deep breath, building her courage once more.

"This is where the story becomes unbelievable," she said slowly. I had thought she was done despite not understanding why she'd told it to me, but clearly I was wrong. Tara looked at me and added, "Please let me get it out before you say anything." I nodded in agreement.

"The woman didn't eat much after her husband died," Tara said, taking the story up once more from where she left off. "She grew weaker and didn't leave her bed much. She was ready to die. It was her only chance to see her husband again, or so she thought."

That caught be off guard. What did she mean by, 'or so she thought'? He was dead after all.

"It was close to the end when a woman appeared by her bed. She had no idea who it was and quite frankly, she wondered if she was simply imagining her." I could understand that, but I didn't interrupt Tara to say so.

"The woman called herself Tyche," Tara continued. "And she asked the woman what was the one thing she wanted most in the world. The answer came easily. She wanted to give her husband the one thing she couldn't. The woman replied that she wanted to go back in time and stop her uncle from raping her so she could have kids."

Okay, the story was getting seriously weird, but I'd agreed not to interrupt. I was pretty sure the name Tyche had something to do with Greek mythology, but I didn't know anything about her. There seemed to be a lot of that going around. I mean, Hebe? Nemesis? Hera? The Fates? Crazy shit!

"Tyche stepped toward the woman's bed, but there was a sudden flash and two other women appeared. One of them was older and more than a little angry, powerful too. She grabbed Tyche by the hair and yanked her away from the old woman on the bed. She yelled something and both disappeared, leaving only the third one. The girl we saw last night. Hebe."

"She introduced herself, apologized for some reason and the next thing the old woman knew she was reliving her rape from all those years ago," Tara said, shaking her head. She swallowed once before continuing. "Only it wasn't a nightmare this time. It was really happening. The old woman was young once again, but with her memories of her life intact."

The story was completely insane. I was almost certain that Tara was joking with me, but her expression was dead serious. Still, I was certain it hadn't really happened.

"Yet, those memories didn't help with her uncle's rape," Tara continued with some difficulty. "He was still drunk and much stronger than her fifteen year old body. It was far worse this time. Her mind was older and knew what was happening, but she couldn't stop it. The two rapes were too much and I think she went a little mad." There was nothing I could say to that so I waited for her to continue.

"This time when her parents came home she refused to let her mother hide what happened," Tara finally said. "She ran to her father and he almost killed her uncle when she told him about the rape. I think he would have if her mother didn't stop him."

"All four of them ended up in the hospital. The doctors were able to help the young girl this time and she didn't lose her ability to have children, but there wasn't much they could do about her emotional state. It was bad. She been thrown back in time and raped again. Despite the impossibility of it all, she knew she couldn't tell anyone."

"What happened to the uncle?" I asked, biting my lip afterward.

"Her father wanted to press charges," Tara replied. "But her mother refused. She kept on making excuses for her brother and saying how bringing it out into the open wouldn't help anything. Her dad really lost it at that point. He told her to choose between her brother and us. Her mother replied that she couldn't turn her brother in. That was the last time they talked."

"That's a terrible story," I said, shaking my head.

"You promised not to interrupt," Tara said, wiping another tear from her cheek.

"Sorry," I said. I wanted to comfort her, but I was too worried. She obviously believed that this story was real and that was crazy.

"I survived what happened, but it was too much," she said slowly, finally using the first person like I feared. She thought she was telling her own story. "I tried to forget and continue on, but on top of the rape and my mother's second betrayal, there was the simple fact that I was an old woman stuck in a fifteen year old body."

"It was no surprise that I lost my friends. What could I say to other fourteen and fifteen year old girls? It was impossible! Worse, I didn't recognize the girl who stared back at me in the mirror. I decided to change what I saw. I cut my hair, started wearing black and did whatever else it took to drive away the people I knew. Being with them was too difficult."

"The only exception was my father," she said, smiling a real smile for the first time. "I'd always remembered him fondly, but I never realized the patience and unconditional love he had for me the first time I survived the rape. This time was much harder, but still, he was there. I might have lost out by having a bad mother, but no one in the world has a better dad."

"Tara," I began gently. "You do realize this is impossible."

"Sure," she shrugged, smiling somewhat ironically. "I've even convinced myself at times that it was just my imagining it all, but you see the problem is that deep down I know it's true. Not only that, but I remember things that are my past and future. Do you want to know who the next president is?" I tried to think of something to say.

"I don't know how to react," was the best I could come up with. She nodded, clearly having expected my reaction.

"Do you remember our first conversation during freshman year?" she asked. I frowned.

"Not the details," I finally answered. "Frankly, you were very intense and scary. I was having problems reconciling the new you with the girl I remembered."

"I'm sorry for that," she sighed. "I was just so sure you'd understand. You were always my rock."

She'd just confirmed that I was the man in her story. If I were, that would mean that we fell in love, married and spent the rest of our lives together. It was a nice dream, but it couldn't possibly be real, could it?

"Johnny, I'm going to leave now. I know you're having problems accepting my story as the truth, but I needed to tell you. I haven't seen Hebe since that day she sent me back in time, but something is obviously going on since she's suddenly reappeared."

I couldn't argue that. Things were too weird since I woke from the coma. I thought I was crazy, and frankly, Tara's story wasn't helping.

"But Hebe's not the only reason I shared my story with you. The truth is that I wanted to tell you. You see, I love you. I always have and always will, but I learned the hard way that it can't be the way it was that first time. You are the man I fell in love with, but you aren't the man I spent over fifty years with. I made the mistake that first time getting you two confused and scared you away. You need to know the truth if there any chance of this working."

I nodded, but honestly only part of what she was saying was sinking in. She trying to tell me that I was in love with an old woman, but that wasn't what I saw. That wasn't what I needed. She looked at me and nodded sadly, as if expecting my reaction.

"Call me if you want to talk again," she said, giving my hand one last squeeze before leaving. I lay there for a long time, my mind spinning.

**********

"John, what's wrong?" my mother asked. "You've been quite all morning. You should be happy. You're finally out of the hospital."

"Is it football?" pop interjected. "The team will get along fine without you. I mean, I know they lost last night, but that wasn't your fault. You didn't ask the car to hit you."

That wasn't quite true. All I had to do was stay away from Tara and Nemesis would have left me alone. It's not like she didn't warn me. Besides, Tara was crazy. She thought she was living her life for a second time. On the other hand, I was thinking about Nemesis as if I'd met a real goddess. Calling Tara crazy was sort of like the pot calling the kettle black. On the third hand, my crazy wasn't nearly as impressive as hers. Time travel, well sort of anyway. My head hurt.

"And Tara was right," mom insisted. "You will be fine even without the scholarship."

"Um, that reminds me. Tara came by this morning," I said from the back of the car. It was time to nip this in the bud. I couldn't believe how taken my parents were with Tara despite her crazy hair and clothes. "She may not be able to make dinner tonight."

My parents exchanged a look and stopped asking me questions. I guess they figures out she was the reason for my mood. They were right, but they had no idea of the extent of it. I knew the best thing to do was forget about Tara, but the thought of doing so depressed me even further.

The rest of the trip home went quickly. I walked in the house to my little sister Cindy running toward me and threw her arms around me. My ribs protested, but I grinned despite the pain. I kissed her on top of the head. The moment was ruined only when I caught myself wondering what happened to my sister in the version of the future Tara supposedly came from. I guess I could ask her and see was she made up, but did I really want to know? Had I really fallen in love with a madwoman? Damn.

"Mom, I'll be in the yard," I said after a while. I felt claustrophobic in the house for some reason.

"Just don't do anything too strenuous," she called back. The fresh air felt good. It was one of those typical fall days, bright, sunny and a bit on the brisk side. I stood looking at the different color leaves on the tree in our yard.

"Hello John." I didn't quite sigh as I turned around. There was yet another beautiful woman standing there. She reminded me of Hebe for some reason.

"Hera?" I guessed.

"Of course," she replied with a smile. I noticed that her eyes were actually purple, but other than that she looked like pretty much any other perfect ten, and I do mean perfect. I shook my head. I couldn't take much more of this.

"I don't suppose you want to tell me what going on?" I asked. "Or is it much simpler than that. I'm crazy, right?"

"Not quite," she laughed. "And let's be honest, you don't really want to know what's going on. It will probably only end up pushing you over the edge." I knew better than to push. Hera didn't seem to be the type to share anything she didn't want to.

"I'm not," she interjected. The truth dawned on me all at once and she confirmed it. "Yes, I can read your mind. All the gods can read human minds."

"That explains a lot," I said, but then I shook my head. "Actually, now that I think about it, not all that much."

"All you really need to know is that you're my champion and that without my protection you'd be dead already," she said. I remembered Nemesis coming toward me with death in her eyes so I couldn't argue, after all her daughter Hebe had saved me. Yet, I also remembered Nemesis's parting remark about preferring death to serving Hera. The little reading I did during my trip the library didn't make Hera sound particularly benevolent.

"That's because I'm not," the goddess laughed again. "But that doesn't mean I don't reward those who serve me."

"Look, why not tell me why you're here?" I asked, rubbing my left hand through my hair. The right couldn't do much with the broken arm.

"You know, all your dreams aren't really gone yet," she said in reply. "I could heal you right now and you could be ready to play football by next weekend."

"For a cost," I said knowingly. I was starting to understand some of what was going on.

"It seems only fair," she agreed. "And you'll enjoy what I want almost as much as me."

"What's that?" I asked, not really expecting her to answer. That's why when she did it surprised me so much. Well, that and her answer.

"Sleep with me," she replied in a matter of fact tone. "Do that just once and I'll heal you and you can have the life you dreamed about."

Did I mention that she was a perfect ten, purple eyes or not? It was tempting, but the truth was that somehow my dreams had changed in the last twenty-four hours. Sure, I still wanted my scholarship and big school education, but that wasn't all I wanted.

"What about Tara?" I asked. "Can you fix whatever's wrong with her?"

"There's nothing wrong with her," Hera answered. "She is exactly what she says she is, but that's not really an issue. She's the Fate's Champion. Once you give me what I want then she'll be nothing more than another human, short lived and imperfect." I don't know why, but from her tone I got a sense of just how short lived Tara would be once I gave Hera what she wanted.

"In that case, no deal," I said. My dreams weren't worth that. Despite my confusion, I knew deep down that nothing was worth that.

"Humans," Hera said, shaking her head. She didn't sound particularly concerned or surprised. Then again, she could read my mind. She proved it once again by responding to my thoughts. "Exactly, my point. Do you really think I' m going to let you ruin my plans?"

"Me? No," I answered honestly. "But the Fates? Maybe."

"So, you think that the Fates, the ones who sent Nemesis after you, are somehow going to save you?" she asked. I didn't miss the sarcasm.

"Save me? No," I shrugged. "But Tara? Sure, and in the end that really the only thing that matters."

"You'd give your life for her?" Hera asked in surprise.

"You tell me? After all, you can read my mind," I replied.

"Your mind," she sighed. "Not your heart. Only my grandmother can do that."