Flight 59 to JFK (Part II)

“Good morning, Nelly.”

“Hello, Sally. Good to see you.”

Nelly Belcourt opened the door to the office of her counseling practice. Sally had been waiting outside. It was first thing Tuesday morning.

“So urgent?” Nelly asked.

“I really wanted to see you yesterday.”

“I couldn’t come in to the office. I had previous engagements. Sorry. I left you a message. I’m presuming you got it. You’re here.”

They walked into her office. Nelly turned on the lights. Sally sat down on the couch and her counselor took a seat near her and turned so they could speak face to face.

“So. What was so urgent?”

“I saw him.”

“Him?”

“Walt.”

Nelly wasn’t registering. So Sally explained.

“The guy who raped me. The one whose brother got arrested by mistake after I called the cops. And got killed in jail.”

The counselor nodded. She remembered Sally’s story.

“Where did you see him?”

“At the airport. I went home for the weekend. I was flying back to New York on Sunday afternoon. We were going to fly on the same plane. Only we didn’t. I talked to him for a minute. And he broke down and cried and ran away. I had to come talk to you. I can’t sleep. I can’t think about anything else. I’m nauseous. I’m afraid.”

“What did you say to him?”

“I didn’t say anything at first. He was sleeping. I just stood there in front of him for a while. I didn’t know if I should talk to him. There was this gay guy sitting next to him. I thought they were together, but I guess they weren’t. For a second I thought maybe, in addition to everything else that happened, he went gay because of …”

“We’ve been over this. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But I called the police. And he went to prison for five years. And his brother died. And his mom had a stroke.”

“He raped you.”

Sally was silent for a moment.

“Looking back, I can’t be sure.”

“We’ve been over this. It wasn’t a misunderstanding. He forced himself on you. You tried to stop him. He was twice your size. That’s rape. What did you say to him?”

“When he woke up, he looked at me as if he were having a nightmare.”

“Of course. Don’t you think he feels guilty?”

“Well, yeah. But so do I.”

“What did he say?”

“He said he was sorry. He said he’d told me he was sorry. He said his brother was dead and his mom had a stroke. He said he’d been to prison for five years. He wanted to know how much he was going to have to pay and for how long. He said he thought I wanted it.”

“That’s horrible. Is that really what he said?”

“No, not all that. He said he thought he had ‘the green light.’ ”

“What did you say?”

“I said I needed him to forgive me.”

“You shouldn’t look at it that way.”

“But I do. So I held my hand out to him. He touched my hand and then he ran away crying.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“I knew you were going to ask that.”

“So you can tell me.”

“I was confused. I didn’t know how to react. The gay guy saw me on the plane later and asked me what was going on, but I wouldn’t talk to him.”

“You were too upset.”

“I’m very upset.”

“What did you want from him?”

“From the gay guy?

“No, from Walt.”

“I don’t know. When I saw him I just thought I needed him to forgive me.”

“He raped you.”

“I knew his brother. We went to school together. Sean. He was a really nice guy. He was retarded.”

Sally started to cry.

“It wasn’t your fault. You’ve told me before. The deputy killed him in jail. They didn’t know he was retarded. He didn’t understand what the deputy was telling him, so he got beaten. The deputy was fired. It was the deputy’s fault. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But if I hadn’t called the police …”

“He raped you.”

“He was caressing my leg. I didn’t stop him. He kissed me. I didn’t stop him.”

“You were 15. You didn’t know what to do.”

“He was only 17. He didn’t know what he was doing, either.”

“He was twice your size. You know all this. We’ve talked about this.”

“When his mother went to identify Sean’s body, she had a stroke. She’s been paralyzed ever since.”

“Not your fault.”

“Whose fault is it?”

“He raped you.”

“His brother didn’t rape me. His mother didn’t rape me.”

“What happened to his brother and his mother wasn’t your fault.”

“Easy to say. I can tell myself that. Harder to believe. What if I hadn’t reported it?”

“You reported it. You were raped. You had to report it. You did your civic duty. It would’ve been irresponsible of you not to report a rape.”

“I told you I came. I had an orgasm. It was my first time.”

“I know.”

“It was awful at first. I was scared. I thought he was going to hurt me. That’s why I didn’t scratch his face or hit him hard. He was twice my size. I thought I’d make him mad and he’d hurt me. But then when he calmed down, the sex got … good. It felt good. I came.”

“Doesn’t matter. He forced himself on you.”

“His brother’s dead. And his mother’s paralyzed. And I got off.”

“Don’t do this to yourself. You need to stop thinking about this. Go swimming. Go to the gym. Get a good workout.”

“I got into his car. I was wearing my summer dress. He asked if I’d smoke a joint with him. I said no. He asked if would go down to the orange grove with him while he smoked. I said yes.”

“You’ve told me all this before. Don’t keep reliving it. Put it behind you. You can’t keep reliving this. Close your eyes.”

Sally did.

“Picture it as something inside you. A black thing in your gut. Now imagine it’s a balloon, a black balloon. Let it out and watch it float away.”

Sally sighed. She opened her eyes.

“I haven’t eaten since I saw him. I’m starving. Something good for brunch around here?

Sally knew Nelly was a foodie. They’d traded recipes over the years of her counseling.

“There’s a new tapas place down the street. I had lunch there the other day. But I don’t think it’s open yet.”

“Anything else?”

“The deli.”

“Wanna grab something with me?”

“Yeah, I’ll go along and have a coffee. You should get some chicken soup.”

Sally recognized the recommendation for comfort food.

“Chicken soup won’t help. I’m hungry. Maybe one of those big omelettes.”

They got up and Sally led the way out. Nelly turned off her office light and locked the door behind her.