A short story for mature readers.
“Despite nature working against him, a stepfather learns to take responsibility for his new daughter.”
the stepfather didnt assume anything the day his girlfriend told him that she had a two year old daughter. that was fifteen years ago. things were different. he wasnt bombarded by calls to shelter youth the way he is now, by the government and other parents. people are scared. and in many ways the stepfather agrees with them. modern life is a breeding ground for deviants. he wonders if he would have the same opinion if he had walked away, during the date at the restaurant where she told him. he liked lucille. the night of the fifth date they finally had sex after fooling around as far as a young couple could without performing the act itself. he couldnt wait to see her the next night, but sitting down at the table with her already waiting for him felt eagerly pessimistic. she told him about her daughter. who was the father? she told him that too. he could tell she was nervous, the way she held him tight with one hand and collected herself with the napkin she held in the other. when the dinner was over they hugged it out and went to a movie. it was too early to go home. what if he said no? then he would still be in his forties now, still trying to reconcile the missing pieces of his own adolescence. but he would be single. and he wouldnt have susanna. by all accounts he is her stepfather. and try as he may to do the best that he can, she is seventeen now and it is almost too late. evenings spent just the two of them kindling their bond were only embers. he is okay with that. she isnt his kid, as much as he feels like she is. there is still a beacon that goes off inside him any time he wants to question that blossoming independence. maybe he should have been harder on her? more of a disciplinarian? lucy couldnt handle that. no, he decided to leave most of the parenting to her. he just had to. lucy had problems of her own. has. she has to be his primary responsibility, and susanna hers.
so when susanna was six and the stepfather took her out for ice cream on a rare daddy daughter date, and a rakish middle aged man watched the little girl while they were making their order, the stepfather didnt do anything. the whole time, susanna was watching the man more than the stepfather could bear. he even did his best to put his hands on that side of her face and avert her eyes back to the fifty two flavours she could pick from, his whole body shaking from the shock of his own outrage, but she wasnt interested in the ice cream. susanna loved the attention. she sneaked out from under his hand and played peek a boo with the rakish man who didnt play back. and when susanna was eight and walking home alone from school, and the old turkish man who lived in the cul de sac across the street shepherded her to the corner where the two streets met, it was her mother who first looked out the window to find her daughter dwarfed down the block by the shadow of the man leaning over and saying something to susanna and pointing down the crescent to his house, which stood out with its red roses full in bloom lining the chain link fence that gated the house curbside. she told the stepfather right away and he ran down the block to snatch susanna away, but he didnt speak up then, either. all the neighbours knew who the old turkish man was and where he lived, except for the stepfather. now he did too. the following season the old mans roses died and everyone assumed the pedophile who tended to them did as well. the stepfather beats himself up regularly. why didnt he say something? why was he so afraid to protect susanna? why did he have to wait for her mother to initiate? this kind of behaviour had gone on for most of susannas young adult life, and there were times that her mother and the stepfather knew exactly what kind of woman she could grow up to be, and were powerless to stop it. they felt they could only postpone the inevitable. monitor her when they could. know who their neighbours were. even if the stepfather wasnt that sociable it became essential for him to practice. lucy was sure her daughter would have been lost and found five days later naked and dead in a ditch if they had not intervened when they did. what kind of life would susanna be living now if lucy hadnt caught her with the old turkish man on the corner? would they have seen susanna again? if they did, would she be the same? worse? or would it have been just what fate needed to bring her back to the right path? but what kind of life is that for a child, to hope that a tragedy befalls them, to make them stronger? she just wouldnt listen. all day in her second floor room with the door shut, listening to loud radio music that would drown out whatever it was she would be doing in there. swearing at them. taking half hour showers.
the stepfather had pieced it together himself some time ago, but it wasnt always easy sharing what he knew with lucy. it was what had happened to lucy, susannas mother. shared trauma. but there was also the curiosity of a child. when susanna was thirteen, on the computer search history he began finding urls to porn sites and he had to remind himself that they hadnt raised her as a boy. key words in the search history were sex and boobies and naked men and naked women, immature dilutions he imagined would be right at home in the schoolyard. when he was a child there was a rumour at school about a girl and a boy who went to the bathroom together, that they sat on the toilet together at the same time. kids stuff. the younger stepfather walked home with that boy one afternoon and asked him about it and the boy kicked him in the groin so hard that the stepfather limped the five houses left before he was home, crashing on the foyer carpet, out of breath from the shock. the shock of the hit and the shock of the betrayal. why did he think they were friends anyway? wasnt this boy a bully the rest of the time? what was he doing thinking they could have been friends? the younger stepfather didnt have many friends. any. his mother found him at the door wincing and insisted they report it to the school, and to his surprise they suspended the boy even though the incident didnt happen on school property. it could have been worse. story of his life. even though he was aware of where his own choices had led to his own antisocial behaviour and was trying to correct it, susanna was only just starting on her journey, and the weight of parental responsibility again reared its head on the stepfather. how could he broach this in a way to get her to talk and not retreat? to be defensive, in the way she was becoming at thirteen? what he chose to say could make the impact that had eluded her mother and him so far. he never did talk to susanna about the porn, or to her mother about what he had found.
and then just last year, when susanna was sixteen she ran. she was still a minor so it was relatively easy getting the police involved. finally, he thought. didnt the cops have some sort of weirdo loser arrest quota to meet every month? what is it about a small town that attracted the rogues? especially those who wanted to know his daughter in law. the stepfather knew what made susanna attractive to those dirtbags. the naivety. perverts are always attracted to tiny girls. at least thats what the online seminar that lucy and him watched one night said. this is what they are teaching to the parents of today? he caught himself realizing that he was, in fact, one of those parents. just another wave of guilt. hold it together. he couldnt wander off on his own, not this time. lucy needed him. they didnt get the call from the bus company until the weekday front desk clerk heard the news almost three days after the bus had already left. ontario. lucy had a feeling she was going to stay with her uncle, there wasnt any other family left alive. they looked at the parental authorization form that susanna had forged and they felt as if they had signed it themselves. the same day the bus company called, susanna was halfway across alberta when her bus rolled into a police checkpoint on the highway and she was found. the reunion was short lived, and she kept the same earphones in from the moment she was helped into the cruiser to the last moment the stepfather saw her trying to slam her bedroom door in her mother’s face. where were you? where did you think you were going? how did you get your uncles phone number? lucy knew she shouldnt have held on to it. maybe she thought she would call her brother and confront him one of these days. why should she wait any longer? she sealed herself in the downstairs study that night and when she was done on the phone she stayed and cried for an hour while susanna and the stepfather listened from the adjacent living room, incapable of consoling her. he stepped outside for a smoke. maybe this really would all go away tomorrow and a new susanna would join them for breakfast, before she would leave early to catch the bus that would take her to school on time for her first class. he laughed. a dream! another evening wouldnt make any difference. it wasnt really his problem, was it? he tried and tried to get close to susanna but every door was firmly closed. she avoided him. maybe susanna thought that the stepfather wasnt her problem, either.
the local bar has a stripper pole and hosts amateur night every wednesday. the stepfather has been asked to blandish some potential clients but if he had his choice they wouldnt be here. he hasnt been to this bar before. it has one main walkway down the centre with the bar itself awkwardly crammed on one side leaving little room for people to go around it to the back corner where the bathrooms were. he hasnt been to a strip club in a long time, probably since before he met lucy. he never had a use for them after he met her, especially not this local place, and especially not on amateur night. he is scared he could see someone he knows. he is scared he could see susanna. the amateurs are as wrecked as he had feared. he even recognizes a handful who still hang around susannas school even though they are two years dropped out. the one that he knows for sure, her name is emma. he knows because she always has her waist length blond hair in a braid. she swings it around her head like a whirligig in a desperate attempt to get a few more tips from the patrons. it makes him sad, but he can curb it for his guests, who are big businessmen with big personalities, slapping each others backs and topping their glasses up with a mickey one carried in his breast jacket pocket. and then they announce the next performer, sasha. and susanna steps out in a white tank top and tight light blue jeans and her shoulder length auburn hair pulled into a tight pony tail. and she takes the pole with both hands and straddles it while the dj spins something indecipherable to the stepfather, watching her squat up and down building to a fierce grind, and the sweat beads on her little body making her tank top wet, you know exactly what she would look like fully naked, and the men go wild around her, hucking five dollar bills and twonies at her, at his daughter! and she blinks in her ecstasy and spots him at the bar and makes eye contact and thats enough susanna! get down from there! no, get down now we are leaving. you can come back tomorrow for your purse, no leave the money. leave the money! he is caught in the bottleneck between the end of the stage and the bar. get the hell away! shes only seventeen!
no you get off! let me go! jesus christ you are just as bad as she is arent you?
susanna you dont belong here
how do you know that? you arent my father!
thats right im not your father. but your mother is worried sick about you and i know that she wouldnt want you in a place like this
what kind of place is that, huh? one where they love me? where i get paid to be myself?
these losers dont want anything meaningful from you! im not debating you, you arent staying here, you are coming with me right now
no im not! let me go!
susanna! come back here! get your hands off me, thats my stepdaughter! let go! im going to call the fucking cops on all of you!
she takes the bus home that night anticipating what she could be expecting at home. another lecture. she was tired of the lectures but she knows how to tune them out now, and she is good at it. just as long as her stepdad doesnt get involved. she doesnt like him looking at her. she had tried to keep their interactions brief and only when they were necessary. she didnt need some third party father figure trying to be what she never had. she isnt sure if she loves her mom or not. lucy certainly seemed like she loved her, at least she tried to. susanna couldnt unify the same woman who reared her being the same with pictures of herself in the magazines hidden in the bottom drawer of the master bedroom armoire. susanna knew where the key was, she had known since she was seven, searching her parents bedroom for money. and even though they were the same magazines she had read a million times before she would never forget the way those images made her feel the first time she saw them. she felt a chill up and down her spine, firing off every nerve she had, stimulating her in a way she had never felt before. it makes her feel alive when walking around in daytime makes her feel deceased, people always talking about her, about her body, about what they want from her and how they are going to get it. she didnt always hear them but she knew they were there. that group of boys at the front of the bus have been glancing at her the entire ride and she hikes her jacket up to hide her cleavage that is still damp and glistening under the interior bus lights. she looks at her shoes. they are cheap dirty sneakers that she stole from fields the year before and the tips are split on both ends. she usually walked everywhere but she doesnt feel like it tonight. she doesnt feel like being alone. but she is never really alone when men are around. they watch her like women watch other peoples kids. she feels dirty and changes her mind. she isnt far from home when she gets off at the next stop, checking to see if the boys at the front are going to get off too and follow her. they dont. when she arrives home, the stepfather is sitting on the steps of the front porch, waiting for her. she makes a dash for the door.
wait wait wait, i told your mom. shes not in there, shes gone. she said she would be back later, i guess she just needed some privacy. sit down. im not angry, susanna. its your body. at the end of the day you can do whatever you want with it. we can only suggest different choices, right? i know youre mad at your mother and i, maybe we could have been different parents? maybe we could have made better choices? and then maybe we would be having a different conversation right now. like one about your grades or how good youre doing in school. no no sit down, im, this is hard for me. i always wanted kids but it never happened. so when your mom told me that she had a kid, i guess there was a part of me that knew i might not get another opportunity. i dont want anything from you susanna, other than to look after you and your mother. and if it seems like ive been paying too much attention to her lately and not enough to you then i am sorry. really. but that was too much for me to see tonight. i had to do something. yes ill be calling the cops tomorrow morning, you shouldnt have been there and they shouldnt have let you up on that stage. i dont care if you know the bartender or if you know that emma girl from class and she put you up to it, it was all you huh? you could have gotten yourself in a lot of trouble. if youre always putting yourself out there like that then how do you expect other people to act around you? those men werent treating you with respect. men who treat you right will be few and far between in this life but you arent going to find a prince charming while working at a place like that. your mom used to be a stripper. really. she has some things she needs to say to you, i dont think it would be my place to tell you anything without her here, but she used to dress sexy and present herself the same way as you. and she really didnt get enough when she was younger, attention i mean, from her own parents, it was easy to fall back on her body to get what she wanted. but it got her into trouble too, and it took her a long time to recover from it. yes the magazines are part of it. i didnt think you knew about those. there really isnt anything wrong with magazines, so long as looking at those pictures dont make you want to become someone or something that you resent. its your life. dont you understand that youre worth more than what those creeps out there give you credit for? youre worth more than your physical person. i dont want to lecture you. its a hard road and you have to work at it every day. but you need to talk to us. you cant stay hidden in your room all the time and lie to us because then we come to resent you. maybe we have some experience that we can give you? and thats what i think we should do when your mom comes home. ill order a pizza now and when she gets here we can sit down and put all our cards on the table. its an expression. it means, how to explain this, youre showing what you have? youre all in? in cards, when youre all in that means that youre betting it all by showing your hand to everyone else youre playing with. no more secrets. your mom will tell you some things and you can ask questions and say some things yourself if youre comfortable and ill be there the whole time to help you both through it. we wont get mad. i promise ill back you up this time if your mom freaks out. i just want you to try.
//jf 4.1.2020
theory of a daskeman 