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.We reluc-tantly let go of each other.Our faces are just inches apart when the samenurse romps in, her rubber soles squishing on the tiled floor. What happened? she exclaims, pointing at the stained gown.We're still untangling and trying to separate. Oh, that.Just an accident,Kelly explains.The nurse never stops moving.She reaches into a drawer under the televisionand pulls out a folded gown. Well, you need to change, she says, tossing itonto the bed beside Kelly. And you need a sponge bath. She stops for asecond, jerks her head toward me and says,  Get him to help you.I take a deep breath and feel faint. I can do it, Kelly says, placing the gown on the table next to the bed. Visiting hours are over, hon, she says to me. You kids need to wrap it up.She squishes out of the room.I close the door and return to the side of herbed.We study each other. Where's the sponge? I ask, and we both laugh.She has big dimples that formperfectly at the corners of her smile. Sit up here, she says, patting the edge of the bed.I sit next to her withmy feet hanging off.We are not touching.She pulls a white sheet up to herarmpits, as if to hide the stains.I'm quite aware of how this looks.A battered wife is a married woman untilshe gets a di-vorce.Or until she kills the bastard. So what do you think of Cliff? she asks. You wanted me to see him, didn't you? I guess. He should be shot. That's rather severe for a little tantrum, isn't it?I pause for a moment and look away.I've decided that I will not play gameswith her.Since we're talking, then we re going to be honest.What am I doing here? No, Kelly, it's not severe.Any man who beats his wife with an aluminum batneeds to be shot. I watch her closely as I say this, and she doesn't flinch. How do you know? she asks. The paper trail.Police reports, ambulance reports, hospital records.Howlong do you wait before he decides to hit you in the head with his bat? Thatcould kill you, you know.Coupla good shots to the skull  Stop it! Don't tell me how it feels. She looks at the wall, and when shelooks back at me the tears have started again. You don't know what you'retalking about.Page 105ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html Then tell me. If I wanted to discuss it, I would've brought it up.You have no right to godigging around in my life. File for divorce.I'll bring the papers tomorrow.Do it now, while you're inthe hospital being treated for the last beating.What better proof? It'll sailthrough.In three months, you'll be a free woman.82She shakes her head as if I'm a total fool.I probably am. You don't understand. I'm sure I don't.But I can see the big picture.If you don't get rid of thisjerk you might be dead in a month.I have the names and phone numbers of threesupport groups for abused women. Abused? Right.Abused.You're abused, Kelly.Don't you know that? That pin in yourankle means you're abused.That purple spot on your cheek is clear evidencethat your husband beats you.You can get help.File for divorce and get help.She thinks about this for a second.The room is quiet. Divorce won't work.I've already tried it. When? A few months ago.You don't know? I'm sure there's a record of it in thecourthouse.What happened to the paper trail? What happened to the divorce? I dismissed it. Why? Because I got tired of getting slapped around.He was going to kill me if Ididn't dismiss it.He says he loves me. That's very clear.Can I ask you something? Do you have a father or brother? Why? Because if my daughter got beat up by her husband, I'd break his neck. My father doesn't know.My parents are still seething over my pregnancy.They'll never get over it.They despised Cliff from the moment he set foot inour house, and when the scandal broke they went into seclusion.I haven'ttalked to them since I left home. No brother? No.No one to watch over me.Until now.This hits hard, and it takes a while for me to absorb it. Ill do whatever youwant, I say. But you have to file for divorce.She wipes tears with her fingers, and I hand her a tissue from the table. Ican't file for di-vorce. Why not? He'll kill me.He tells me so all the time.See, when I filed before, I hadthis really rotten lawyer, found him in the yellow pages or someplace likethat.I figured they were all the same.And he thought it would be cute to get the deputy to serve the divorce paperson Cliff while he was at work, in front of his little gang, his drinkingbuddies and softball team.Cliff, of course, was humiliated.That was my firstvisit to the hospital [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]