Things Happen...and They Happen For a Reason

by Roberta B. Bombonato

I remember back when my life made sense. I knew where my locker was. When the bell rang, I would just go to the next class. Then the next...and so on. I lived with my father, whom never once asked how my day was. All he cared about was his job. Don't ask me what he did for a living because I have no idea. I just know that it had a lot to do with image. He pretended he didn't even have a daughter to uphold his image. He wasn't always like this.
Once upon a time, we had it made. It was mom, me, and dad. We were the three musketeers and one happy family. We even had family game night every Friday. She owned an art gallery and painted on her days off from work. Once in a great while, she would put one of her paintings in a random show under a different name. It would always sell, and then she would take us out to dinner. Dad and I used to always ask her why she didn’t have an art show of her own. She would tell us it was too much pressure. My dad used to be a lawyer. He would do a lot of pro-bono work. Yeah, we were a tight family all right. But that all changed when a driver fell asleep behind the wheel, and took her away from us. Then my father started going on trips without me always leaving me with a nanny. Then we moved into a mansion. Apparently, it was good for my father's image. My room was located in the west wing. The wing nobody was allowed to see when he gave tours. He would tell them that it was his office. I went to an all girl private school. Our uniforms were hideous, but I won't even go there. Behind our mansion there was a creek that dead ended on a ten foot waterfall. It was beautiful. I often went there to think.
One day, when I got back from school, my father was out front with two men dressed in all black. I knew that when he was with company, I had to sneak in the back. I walked in the back door and put my backpack on top of the washing machine. I took off my prep school maroon jacket and went in the kitchen to make myself a sandwich. I put everything on the counter and when I looked up, there was a man dressed in all black like the others looking at me. I didn't know what to do since I had my uniform on and I was obviously comfortable enough in this mansion to make myself a sandwich. Anybody with enough common sense would figure out I was my father's daughter.
"Damn, they didn't make them like you back in my day," The man said looking me up and down. I've had many men check me out before, but something about him just really creeped me out.
"O.K.," I said trying to pay him no mind.
"What's your name, baby?" The man said walking up closer to me.
"Teresa," I said feeling really uncomfortable.
"Teresa, have you had your first period yet?"
"Sir, shouldn't you be out there with the others?" I said trying to change the subject.
"I told them to wait for me outside," He said as he cornered me against the counter. He then put his humongous, rough hand on my voice box and squeezed. He squeezed it so tight that I couldn't speak. I tried screaming, but it didn't work. Then he put his other hand up my skirt and took my panties off. I looked around me and I saw a basket of fruits. While he was unzipping his pants, I tried getting the basket. I was so scared and my heart was beating so fast. Tears started running down my cheeks and my air supply was short. I was a virgin until I felt his penis inside me. I kept trying to get the fruit basket, but it was no use. His penis felt like a hunting knife cutting me deeper and deeper as he went in and out. I tried kicking but he got my right leg with his free hand and spread it. I gave up on the fruit basket and just started punching his back and hitting anything I could. I had long nails, so I tried cutting his back.
"I like it rough darling, keep it coming," He said. I felt so helpless. There was absolutely nothing I could do. Then, he flipped me over, still holding my voice box, and put his penis up my ass. That hurt even worse than my vagina. He went in and out a couple of times and then I felt his penis contract. He came inside of me and then rested his body, still holding my neck. When the wet, warm cum was going up my anus, his whole body went limp except for his extremely strong hand. I wanted to throw up. He took the dish towel from the sink and gagged me. I don't know what he did to my voice box, but it hurt to even whimper. He threw me down on the floor and zipped his pants up. I was about to get up to try and run away but he got to me too fast.
"Let's go for a walk, Teresa," he said picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder. He grabbed my backpack and my jacket from the washing machine. He started walking toward the back door I had came in from. I tried screaming, but it was no use. He was holding on to my legs so tight and I was still punching and fidgeting trying to make it harder on him carrying me. Nothing worked. I knew where he was walking to. He was walking toward the waterfall. Is he going to throw me down the waterfall? Help! Somebody help! Daddy...
"I can't have you blabbing about this. It was nice while it lasted wasn't it? At least you won't die a virgin," He said as he threw me down the waterfall. As I'm falling, I'm looking straight at the body of water that I'm about to hit. When I hit the water, my eyes were still open. I went underwater and the dish towel that he gagged me with impedes me from closing my mouth. I keep swallowing water and I'm desperately gasping for air. The rapids were scary strong and I'm just like a log doing what the current wants me to do. It felt like hours and hours that I fought for my life with the rapids. Then I blacked out.
I woke up on top of some rocks on the bank of a peaceful river. I looked down at my legs and I noticed my skirt was up and since my panties were still off, I was pretty much naked. I put the wet skirt down, covering my abused privates. My sneakers and socks were wet so when I stood up, they squished. I was all wet and it was starting to get cold. I looked around and my eyes felt awful. My vision was blurry and I had no idea where I was. I knew I was in the woods. I didn't know how far the rapids took me. I started walking. I figured I would hit something eventually. The more I walked, the blurrier my vision got. My eyes were also watering a lot. When I blinked, the pain was almost unbearable. The sun was setting and it reminded me of the last painting my mother did. I sat down on a rock and just watched it set. I pretended my mom was right there next to me. When traces of this horrific day was gone with the sun, I cried myself to sleep.
The next day, I woke up sorer than I had ever been in my entire life. My eyes were really bothering me and I now only saw shapes and shadows. It's hard walking in the woods only seeing shapes and shadows. Every time I blinked, my vision got worse and worse. I walked and walked until my vision was completely gone. I'm walking in the unknown with my arms out stumbling and tripping constantly. What am I going to do? How am I going to find help? Am I blind? I can't accept that I'm going to spend another night in these damn woods. I start screaming. At first my voice cracks a lot, but after a few deep screams my voice worked just fine. I scream things like "help!" and "please!"
"What's the matter with you?" a woman says. She sounds older than I am.
"Thank God," I say right before I faint.

"You've been asleep for two days," the woman says.
"I have?" I say without opening my eyes.
"I think it's time that you wake up. I made some eggs and biscuits. Are you hungry?"
"I'm gonna be blind forever, aren't I?" I say with my eyes open. I see nothing. Everything is black. I know I should be angry, but I’m just so thankful to even be alive.
"Come on, honey. I'll help you to the table," The nice woman says helping me up. She puts her arm on my low back and holds my right hand leading me to the table. I smell the food. I don't remember the last time I had breakfast cooked for me. She helps me to sit down and then puts my hand on top of the silverware. I hear her sit on a chair and I feel the table move a little when she starts cutting her eggs.
"What happened to you?" The woman asked.
"Can we start with a less complicated question?" I ask back.
"I suppose so. What's your name?"
"Teresa, you?"
"Maryanne. Nice to meet you,"
"Nice to meet you too. Thank you for your hospitality,"
"You're welcome. How did you get to the woods?"
"If you have a good imagination, you can make something up...if you want,"
"I need to know if you're staying in my home. Does it have to do with the fact that you didn't have any panties on?"
"Yeah, that fact has to do with everything,"
"Do you want to call anyone?"
"Me being raped won't be good for my father's image. Or being blind, for that matter,"
"What in the world does that mean?"
"I told you it was complicated. I'm making a mess, aren't I?" I've never eaten anything with my eyes shut.
"You're fine. Keep trying,"
"Maryanne...I was raped by a man I never met before. Then he threw me from the top of a waterfall and when I hit the water, my eyes were open. My father hasn't been much of a father since my mom died. The last thing I saw was a sunset. Now I'm here,"
"That's a nice image. A sunset, I mean. I'm sorry about what happened to you. There must be a reason why you survived that fall. And there must be another reason why I found you. You can stay as long as you want if you make yourself useful. I don't care if you're blind or not,"
"O.K., where are we?"
"In my farm. I live here alone and I don't get many visitors. My son comes up on Thanksgiving, but that's about it,"
"What do you normally do after breakfast?"
"Don't you mean, what we do after breakfast?"
"Yes, that's what I meant,"
"Well, let me tell you what my usual days consist of: get up when the rooster calls, get the chicken eggs, make breakfast, eat breakfast, wash dishes, feed the chickens, milk the cows, bring the milk in the house, make doce de leite, do the dishes, and wrap up the merchandise. By that time, Jimmy will have already come and pick the stuff up. I sell my stuff at the local bakery. Things need to be done everyday at five. After everything is done, we feed the cows and then shower. After the cows are fed, you are free to do whatever you want. I normally play the piano. I have a spare violin if you'd like to play it. It used to be my husband's,"
"Oh, is that all we do?"
"Don't like it? Leave,"
"No, I was just making a joke,"
"You'll get used to being blind, Teresa. I'm a big believer that things happen for a reason. We might not always know why things happen, but there is a reason. Even if we never know what that reason might be. You understand?"
I touched everything and started letting my hands become my eyes. After breakfast, she taught me how to milk cows. I also fed the chickens and then we both made doce de leite for her to sell at the local bakery. We worked side by side as if we had been doing it for years. Jimmy came to pick up the order like he always did. At the end of the day, we showered and then played our instruments side by side. She played her piano and I played the violin. It’s funny that her husband left her the violin because that is precisely the instrument I have been playing since I was ten. Maybe everything really does happen for a reason.

Living on a farm, things have to be done at a certain time and a certain way. Maryanne taught me how things were to be done and throughout the months, they have become second nature to me. I do sometimes miss being able to see, but I feel I am more fortunate than a lot of blind people, for I had my eyes for seventeen years. I can still picture things simply by their sounds, their smells, their touch and the picture is clear in my head.
Today is the day before Thanksgiving and Maryanne and I are getting ready for her son’s visit. We got a turkey and we’re going to make everything else from scratch. When the doorbell rang, Maryanne ran to the door. She introduced me to Edward and he excused himself shortly after since his train ride was very tiring. Then we started to play our instruments like we always do around this time. I heard Edward’s footsteps come down the stairs. Then I heard him sit down on Maryanne’s reading chair. We kept playing as if he wasn’t there. When we were finished, he hugged Maryanne while I packed up my violin.
“That was amazing! I haven’t heard you play like that since dad died,” Edward said complimenting his mother.
“I have this one to thank for that,” Maryanne said lightly touching my arm.
“You play the violin beautifully, Teresa,” Edward said. This sentence was the beginning of a glorious night. When Maryanne went to sleep, Edward and I stayed awake all night talking. Have you ever just had a conversation that you will remember for your entire life? That’s what this night was. Maryanne woke up at six thirty with the rooster like always.
“You two are up early,” Maryanne said yawning.
“We just haven’t been to bed!” Edward said giving his mom a kiss. We ate breakfast and Maryanne and I tended to our chores. Today, we had even more chores than ever because of Thanksgiving dinner. At dinner, Edward asked Maryanne if he could stay until New Year’s. Maryanne was thrilled and speechless, and of course said yes.

The next few months, Edward and I became close. Closer than I have ever been to anyone not including my mother. One day, he asked Maryanne for me to have a day off to be with him. He took me to the mountains. He packed a wonderful picnic with wine and cheese. I know I am only eighteen, but who’s going to tell? After our picnic, we went out on a row boat. I knew something was bothering Edward.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
“I have to tell you something about me. Something that I can’t ever change, but I wish to God I could,” He said with a crackling voice letting me know that this might be difficult to hear.
“You can tell me anything, Eddie,” I said.
“Three years ago, I killed someone. No, let me finish. I was up all night studying for the last test I ever had to take in my high school career. I aced the test and when school was over, I was completely zombified. On the way home, I fell asleep behind the wheel of my truck and I hit a woman. She died after three surgeries and all the judge did to me was take away my license, forever...” His words echoed in my ears. Did he say three surgeries?
“Was her name Janice Timboulin?” I asked already knowing the answer.
“Yes...how did you know?” He innocently asked. My stomach dropped and then I threw up. I’m in love with my mother’s killer?
“Take me home,”
We didn’t speak on the way home. This is why we took a taxi in the first place. When I though I was about to cry, Maryanne’s words came into my head. “Everything happens for a reason.” I couldn’t sleep that night. I went outside and started walking through the woods. The woods I got lost in, after being raped. Then I started running. I didn’t care if I hit a tree or anything. Maybe not caring was the best thing I ever did, because I did hit a tree. I hit it so hard that I blacked out. I don’t know how long I was out until my mother appeared to me. At first I was so scared. I mean, wouldn’t you be? She’s dead. She looked beautiful though. She was wearing a radiant white gown and her hair was up in a bun. She was also wearing diamond earrings. Everything was black except for her. She was the light through all the darkness.
“Mommy?” I finally asked.
“Hi baby, it’s me,” She said hugging me. Tears came to my eyes. She smelled like she always did.
“I miss you so much!” I said. Those words hurt me to say. Especially since I met the man that took her from me.
“You don’t have to miss me. I live in you,”
“I met...”
“I know. And it was my time. As hard as that is to believe, everyone has their own time. Edward has much to offer this world still, and so do you. Together you will achieve many things and you will give birth to the best president this country has ever had,”
“What?”
“Maryanne is right, honey. Everything does happen for a reason. Life itself is God’s design. When you come home, you can ask him why your part of the design was the way it was. Until then, just have faith that things are the way they are for a reason,”
“I don’t even know how to get back to the farm from here,”
“I’ll take you back,”
“When we get back...does that mean you leave me again?”
“Yes. But we will see each other again,”
“Then let’s walk slow,” I said making my mom smile. On the way back home, we talked. She helped me find the forgiveness I needed in my heart. Our hug goodbye was difficult. I remember when the doctors told my father and I that she was gone, I wished I could’ve hugged her goodbye. I actually got my wish. I finally got the closure I needed. After that day in the woods I realized that she does live in me because I feel more and more like her everyday that passes by. I never told anyone of my encounter with my mom. I also never told Edward that it was my mother he killed. We did get married and took over Maryanne’s farm when she passed. I started a musical school for the blind. I became the violin teacher. Edward wrote a book to help people deal with guilt and overcome it. Our son hasn’t become the president yet, but he is only two.