Every October dad goes moose hunting with anyone who has a tag. He was usually fortunate enough to get a tag yearly and if he did not, he would go hunting anyway or catch a moose and then come to town to bring a Native friend to the bush with him so he would not be caught poaching by the Ministry of Natural Resources. Dad never followed hunting rules because he always knew better than the politicians did. In reality, this was dad’s yearly two to three week vacation.
I imagine based on what you’ve read so far, you would expect these weeks in October to be horrible for us girls; you would be dead wrong (most of the time). I only remember her being really bad one year, but I digress. On this particular October in 1986 Big M and I bonded; I realize (now) I was the only one bonding.
While dad was gone, we went to the grocery store and picked all our favourite foods including lamb since dad hates lamb and we are not allowed to cook it if he is home. We always got a leg of lamb and then I would use leftovers for Moussaka. I remember we would also have charcuterie often, which has always been my favourite way to eat. When Jack was hunting, food was also not restricted and I could eat whenever I was hungry without being told “don’t eat that, it’ll make your ass fatter.”
I remember Big M and me chatting, like I imagine any normal mother-daughter would, and while she was sitting on my bed, despite that little voice in my head screaming “DON’T DO IT”, I did it. We were sharing life experiences in that moment, she told me about all her past boyfriends, that she had only ever had nine sexual partners that she had an IUD so that’s why she never got pregnant and when it was time I would be put on the “pill.” All of a sudden, I felt this overwhelming NEED like a motor driving me and I was NOT able to stop the barrage of words spilling out of my mouth. This is what ADHD is like for me and what I only discovered in my 40s.
Me: Bruno used to do that with me. He used to touch me all the time.
Maeve: What?
Me: Yeah, when I lived there we used to have alone time all the time.
Maeve: What do you mean? He touched you?
Me: Yes, without my clothes on. He used to be naked all the time.
Maeve: Did you see his penis?
Me: Yes, I had to kiss it and stuff.
Maeve: Did he like it?
Me: I guess so.
Maeve: How do you know?
Me: Well,
stuff came out of it and then it was over and I went back to bed.
Maeve: Oh my God Margeaux, why didn’t you tell us sooner?
Me: I did. I told dad at the store. He told me to stop watching so much television.
Maeve: What? But… what? Why didn’t you tell me?
Me: Um.. well.. dad didn’t believe me so I didn’t think you would either. It seemed like it happened in a dream, but it wasn’t a dream. I have nightmares at night sometimes and that’s why I scream. Other times I can’t get out of bed because it looks like I have red glowing snakes all over the floor.
Maeve: We’re calling the police.
That’s when all hell broke loose.
There was a lot going on that evening and I felt very overwhelmed. Everyone was asking me questions and I felt over exposed. It was validating and humiliating all at once. I had to tell the police what happened, they wrote it down in a book and they told me I could not tell anyone that the police were involved because they would need to investigate. At least I think that’s what they said. Then for some reason, they thought it would be a good idea to get Jack involved. I had no idea they would send a helicopter looking for him in the bush, while he was on vacation. No idea. If I had known, I definitely would have kept my big fat trap shut.
Jack does not
like authority. He does not like the Ministry of Natural Resources. He does not
like being asked questions. He does not like other people sticking their noses in ‘his’
affairs. I don’t know if dad had a tag that year or if he had planned to get a
friend to go with him or what. All I know is that when he walked through the
door after being told to get home, he was not happy. He had the proper look on
his face, worry – no concern though, his eyes did not match the expression on
his face so I knew he was mad. I thought he was mad at Bruno, but no.... he was
seriously pissed off that a helicopter came to the bush to tell him about a past experience and in which nothing could be done and no longer mattered. Maybe he was trying to run the clock for statute of limitation?
 |
| I thought it was my duty |
The next day at lunch time, I went to see my grandparents and to tell my grandmother what had happened – clearly I suck at keeping secrets because the police had just told me the night before not to say anything, especially not to them. I did anyway. My grandmother told me not to tell my grandfather because he would probably have a heart attack. My grandfather was always down in the driveway chasing men away from his granddaughter. Léa had a lot of boyfriends and my grandfather was worried about the riff-raft she brought home. She was also headed down a path of drugs, prostitution, and illegal activities. Her story is not mine to tell. My grandfather was a large imposing man and if he had known, I have no doubt he would have harmed Bruno – maybe even killed him. Before returning to school, I went down to see my aunt and when I noticed she wasn’t home, I left a note in her oven.
When my aunt came home later that day and found the note in her oven, she packed up Bruno’s belongings in garbage bags and set them all in the driveway. This coincided nicely with the police who came by later to arrest him.
************
Over the course of several weeks I was interviewed by police and by social workers at the Children’s Aid. Jack did not come to any of those appointments. Maeve was by my side through it all. She was not permitted in the room where I was questioned. First, I had to write a detailed statement, then I was questioned and my statement picked apart.
After the written, came the video. I was then required to re-enact everything that happened on this doll and it was captured on video.
I was asked to do this multiple times – I am assuming to rule out if I was lying.
This experience was one of the most difficult of my entire life – even now. It was humiliating having to relive it and recount it over and over and over again. I was a kid when this happened and the grown ups focused on the events being three times a week (to my recollection, I was 5 FFS). Next came the "which three days?" I don’t know which three days. So if I didn’t know which three days in a week, how could I be certain it was three days and then eventually, how could I be certain it even happened at all?
So, to verify my ‘story’ I was sent to a female gynecologist who treated me with kindness, respect and compassion - new territory for me. She explained what she would do and why. Her exam proved my abuse definitively because she noted I had scar tissue in my vagina and it was significant. It was not something a child would do to herself. Finally, I had corroboration.
After that medical confirmation, I had to do the written statement and video all over again.
My father never spoke to me about it and never mentioned it, other than to say he had planned to handle Bruno, “in my own way.” He led me to believe that he had planned to murder Bruno for doing this to me but he had not worked out how to get away with it.
I was supposed to forget that I had told him when I was 7, back in 1981, 5 years prior, and he never believed me.
Do you think he believed me any more now? No.
But at least I had a mommy now, right?
My parents are a$$holes
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