Faith: Chapter 11

The path to our destination is not always a straight one. We go down the wrong road, we get lost, we turn back. Maybe it doesn’t matter which road we embark on. Maybe it matters that we embark.
- Barbara Hall, (Northern Exposure)

Sherry lay awake in bed, as she had almost every night since Belle came home. It had been almost three weeks since she‘d found Belle in her bathroom. Now, each night, Sherry stayed awake until she couldn’t anymore - just listening. They had lived in their current house long enough that Sherry knew every creak in the floor, and every other noise that her daughter made as she roamed the house at night.

It had been difficult, but Sherry had learned to stay put. Belle was predictable. Always either going into the kitchen to sit at the table or to the living room and watching TV marathons from the ‘70s and ‘80s.

Sherry suspected Belle had nightmares, though she never said as much. What Belle never knew is that Sherry had them, too. She had, since before Belle was born, when Sherry and her husband had begun having problems. It made Sherry sick to remember.

When she’d been pregnant the abuse had all but disappeared and he had gone soft, constantly talking to her stomach and treating her so tenderly. That all had stopped before Belle was a year old. Then, his temper started showing again. Belle was a toddler the first time Sherry saw him hit her. And though she knew she should have taken Belle and left then, Sherry had stayed, feeling strongly that Belle should have her father in her life - that she would do better if her parents were together.

Life continued much the same for the following couple years. Then there came the night he found Belle’s toys in a neat pile at the bottom of the stairs, hidden carefully behind a box. He had asked her to put them away in her room, and instead of obeying, she had been sneaky and hidden them.

For twenty minutes or more, Sherry had tried to keep him occupied, knowing how volatile he was when he felt disrespected. She had tried everything - antagonizing him about little things so he would come after her instead. That had worked, but only for so long. Eventually, he had enough. His daughter was going to learn her lesson this time. He was going to make sure she never forgot it. Unfortunately, all the time he had spent fighting with Sherry earlier, only seemed to be a warm-up compared to what he inflicted on their little girl.

For several minutes, Sherry couldn’t move. She had been stunned and wracked with guilt for not leaving when she saw the first bruise around Belle’s upper-arm two years before. Now,. Belle was bleeding from the mouth and her eye was bruising from a blow. He had her by the ear, as he used every foul name for a woman he could think of to berate their little girl. Then, she’d heard Belle scream through tears.

“Mama! I’m sorry! Make it stop!”

That night, she’d stepped up and did what she had always known was right. When Sherry couldn’t get a hold of Belle and leave immediately, she made a decision, and forced Belle onto the floor where she could easily take the blows, as he lashed out at them both. Sherry knew that Belle wouldn’t have survived this, had she not stepped in. When she had an opening, Sherry had picked Belle up and run. He had chased them for several blocks until they knocked on a door, and told the woman who answered that they had been robbed, and they couldn’t go home.

Getting out of bed, Sherry made her way to the kitchen to make some tea. She knew herself well enough to realize when she wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon. From the hallway, Sherry had a clear view of Belle sitting on the old couch in the living room, curled up with a blanket flipping idly between Italian cooking and the replay of the nightly news.

Belle heard her mother get up, and immediately moved to find the remote and adjust the volume on the TV. The last thing she wanted was another late-night confrontation. Belle watched, feeling tense, as Sherry continued into the kitchen and listened as she put water on the stove for tea.

Turning her attention back to the show about how Parmesan was made, Belle tried to ignore her own tiredness. Tonight, she hadn’t even bothered to try and sleep. She had done homework until she couldn’t focus anymore - doing all the reaction papers and composer bios that would help boost her grade. She had even tried to get a start on all her missed Geography, but she hadn’t gotten very far with that.

Belle had stayed off the phone, even going so far as to turn her cell off, and changing the message to inform Greta and whomever else called that she was catching up with school and promised that if anyone tried to bother her, it wouldn’t be pretty.

Though her mother hadn’t taken away privileges since she’d been home, Belle constantly felt guilty, like she should be punished. When she had the energy, which was rarely, she would try to clean house while her mom worked.

After hearing her mom in the kitchen after several minutes, curiosity got the better of Belle, and she went to investigate.

Sherry was puttering around the kitchen.

“Did I wake you?” Belle couldn’t help asking. She pulled the blanket a little tighter around her shoulders, comforted by its softness and familiarity.

“No. Why don’t you go back out and sit down? I’ll bring you some tea.”

Belle blinked. It looked like her mother, but she was rarely this quiet.

“Okay,” Belle agreed hesitantly, returning to the couch and waiting. She muted the television, and then thought better of it and turned it off completely.

Minutes later, Sherry came out carrying two flowered cups - the kind they used to have afternoon tea with when they still lived close to Belle’s grandparents. Sherry didn’t use the cups much anymore, preferring a large coffee thermos that she could take in the car to a little bitty tea cup. Sitting down next to Belle, she offered her one and put an arm around her.

“You’re not tired either, are you?” Sherry asked sympathetically.

Belle shook her head. “No. I’m very tired. Just can’t sleep. Caught up on some homework though,” she offered.

“That’s good. Look, honey. I need to talk to you about something.” Sherry said seriously, pulling her daughter closer. “I made a real big error in judgment when I blamed you for everything with your dad. That wasn’t true, and it wasn’t right of me to put the blame on your shoulders.”

Belle shrugged. “That’s where it belonged. You said so yourself,” she tried not to care. Saying those words was almost as painful as hearing her mother say them.

“I did say that, and I suppose I meant it when I said it. But that was because I didn’t want to see the honest truth - that it was my responsibility, and I didn’t handle things well. You were just a child, and you were doing what all kids do. The truth is, I was scared to leave your father. It was easier to put the blame on you than admit I was scared,” Sherry spoke quietly.

Belle looked down, staring into her cup of tea. “But I didn’t help things either. I made them worse for you and him both. If I’d behaved, you wouldn’t have been forced into having to leave.”

Sherry felt her heart squeeze painfully. “Look at me, honey.” When Belle did, Sherry continued. “For me to blame you, that would be like Mikhail and Maria blaming Aly for something going wrong between them. Aly isn’t responsible for her parents’ happiness, and you weren’t responsible for ours. You were four years old. I should have never said those things to you, and I’d take back every one if I could.”

Belle closed her eyes, feeling grateful, but pained at the same time. She wished that her mother had come to all these realizations sooner. “Why did you tell me he was the one that left?”

“Because,” Sherry sighed. “I always hoped you wouldn’t remember that night. Eventually it faded, and you believed the story. I didn’t ever want you to remember your dad hitting you or calling you names. As painful as it was, I thought you’d do better if you thought he just left us.”

Closing her eyes, Belle felt overwhelmed and relieved. “I remember. We ran from him, and it was late at night. He was chasing us. It was after y’all fought about me… I heard it from under the bed.” Belle pulled the blanket tighter around herself.

Sherry stoked Belle’s hair tenderly, ignoring the resentment that came when she flinched. “I was the adult. I should have been protecting you from the start, but I didn’t. We were having problems long before you were born. You didn’t have anything to do with why we fought, not really. I should have never said what I did to you. When I saw you still had the bandana, I remembered grabbing it off the counter that night. Whenever I see it, I remember your little face that night and how hurt you were. It reminded me of all the ways I failed you as a mother.”

Belle stared at her hands. “When it started coming back to me, it felt like I was going crazy. You never talked about us running or anything. Or times he hurt us. I only remembered once. When I found this, it was like proof that it was real. Then the nightmares got worse, and I knew it was real, and you still never talked about it.”

“I’m sorry,” Sherry apologized. “It’s not a conversation I ever wanted to have with you. It’s been years, and I still can’t get over the memories of that time. I thought if we never talked about it, you might be spared the pain.” Looking into Belle’s eyes, she answered the silent questions that were lurking there. “It really happened, honey. He had a bad temper, and he hurt us, and one night after a fight, he came after you. And I knew I had to do something, or you weren’t going to make it out of that room. So I covered you, and let him hurt me, and then I took you and we left.”

It was silent a long time, before Belle had the courage to speak again.

“I wish I could have done more to help you then,” Belle said regretfully, laying her head on her mom’s shoulder.

Sherry kissed Belle’s hair gently. “Every time you smiled, you helped me. Every time you woke me up in that shelter or showed me a new song you learned at school, you lifted my spirit. That helped me more than you can imagine, love. Do you know why I gave you the name I did?” she asked Belle softly.

Shaking her head, Belle stayed silent.

“Belle Christine,“ Sherry sighed tenderly, “It‘s because, before I ever saw you, I knew you were going to be beautiful. Those days before I found out I was carrying you - those months and years - had been so dark, but I knew in my heart that within me, there was this beautiful little life growing, and that whenever the light of my faith was growing dark, all I’d have to do is look at you, and I’d be reminded of the Lord.”

“Are you still?” Belle asked hesitantly.

Sherry took her daughter’s face and looked into her eyes calmly.

“Every day.”

--

Josh never did well alone. He spent a lot of time alone, but he wasn’t the kind of person who voluntarily did things by himself. He didn’t like to be solitary. Whenever he was left in the house while his mother did an errand, Josh played music to fill the silence.

Closing his eyes, Josh tried to be positive but it was getting hard. He’d done all the homework required over break already, and he was bored. If Katerina didn’t come home for Christmas it would definitely be a quiet holiday. His mom was the type to spend any free time she had reading a good book, or going for a walk. For a while, Josh thought he may have inherited his mother’s personality down to the last attribute. But over the last year, Josh found himself growing up to be more like Kat.

Katerina was always happy and full of energy. She was rarely introspective and solemn, as he tended to be when he was younger. She always had a fun idea for a present for their mom, or a new, clever way to decorate their Christmas cookies.

Now that he was a sophomore, Josh found himself relaxing a little bit more than he ever had. By now, he was resigned to the fact that he was always going to be smart. He was okay with that. And the more Josh began to be okay with himself, the more he found himself enjoying things like his big sister.

Ever since Kat had gone away to school the previous year, Josh had become accustomed to a quiet and serious house. There weren’t footsteps thundering up and down the stairs - and there wasn’t anyone to pull pranks on. Josh had tried on his mom. She wasn’t amused.

Staring gloomily out the window, Josh thought of calling some people, but didn’t know who to try. Belle was probably one of his closest friends, but she was going through a really hard time right now and needed to concentrate on healing. He and Andrew had never been that close, and Elise lived far away. Josh thought of Jared. They talked occasionally, but this wasn’t the kind of thing he felt comfortable going to Jared with. This was about his sister. She was the most important person in the world to him.

A car pulled up in front of the house, and someone got out. Josh squinted. It couldn’t be.

It didn’t look like Kat’s car, and it didn’t look like Kat for that matter. Her once long hair was cut short - similar to the style Julia wore hers in. Of course, on his sister, it looked better.

It took only a matter of seconds for the Josh to hear her thunder up the stairs, screaming his name.

“Joshy!” Katerina ran forward to embrace him. “Surprise!”

Blinking, Josh stared up. He hadn’t seen his sister in four months, and every time she came home, he felt like he had missed out by not seeing her as often as he wanted.

“What are you doing here?” he managed, reaching up to give her a hug.

She smiled. “I’m home for Christmas. What do you think?”

“I thought you couldn’t come home,” Josh said, incredulous.

Finally, Katerina moved to take off her coat and hang it in the closet. “I pulled some strings,” she told him. “So what do you say? Wanna bake some Christmas cookies with me?” she winked at Josh.

“Mom always says you can’t use the kitchen, ‘cause you never clean up after yourself.”

“So? Neither do you!” Already planning what kind of cookies she was going to make, Kat began taking various ingredients out of the cabinets. “When’s Mom coming home?”

“Not for hours. She’s out shopping,” Josh said, pulling up to the table and taking whatever Kat handed him.

“We’ll have plenty of time then,” she said happily.

Josh’s brow furrowed. “Does Mom know you’re home?”

“Nope,” Kat grinned, handing Josh red and green sprinkles from the collection of decorating stuff.

He shook his head. “You’re gonna give her a heart-attack… Hey, we should make a whole bunch of these and bring them to the party at Mikhail and Maria’s. You should come.”

“Sure, I’m always up for a party,” she agreed easily. “So, how have you been? How’s Belle doing?”

“Better, I think,” Josh ventured. “But it’s kind of hard to tell. I hope she’s at the party though. We don’t really talk at school anymore.”

“That’s too bad. She’s a sweet girl,” Kat commented, running a hand over her brother’s head absently.

“Yeah.” Josh measured out some flour and dumped it in the bowl.

Katerina stopped studying the mixer to see where the power switch was and looked at him. “You’re not blaming yourself, are you?” she asked seriously.

“No,” Josh admitted quietly. “I did at first, but not anymore.”

“Are you sure?” she pressed.

Shrugging, Josh elaborated. “I think we all blame ourselves for it a little bit. For not seeing she was in trouble. For not showing her we loved her enough. Obviously, I know it was her choice, but I still feel guilty knowing she was walking around with so much pain, and not even noticing. Every time I see her now, I just want to cry. She was really upset when we were gonna pray for her and just got up and left. It just let me know that she must still be really hurting.”

Kat nodded, sympathetically. She’d read every one of Josh’s letters, taken all of his phone calls. She knew how hard this had hit him. Belle had always been a good friend. Kat regretted nothing more than not being able to be there for her brother the night he found out.

“It’ll probably take a while. All you can do is be her friend.”

Josh nodded. “I know. I haven’t been doing the best job at that. I can barely talk to her. I have no idea what to say. We had fun together before. Now she’s so different, I don’t want to say something wrong and make her worse.”

“Just say hi. Tell her it’s nice to see her,” Kat encouraged. “Girls always love to hear that kind of stuff.”

Smiling, Josh agreed. He couldn’t wait to go to the party with his sister, so he could show Gabe that their prayers had been answered.

--

Andrew couldn’t remember wanting anything less than to go to Mikhail and Maria’s party this year. He knew it was tradition. He knew it was expected. But he didn’t want to go. If he did, he’d have to stare at Belle and pretend everything was fine between them, when he knew it wasn’t.

It had been weeks, and still there were times Andrew would wake up in the morning and forget that his best friend was so changed. He knew it wasn’t his job to forgive her for what she’d done, yet he still felt like he needed to. He had barely talked to her since she’d returned to school, and ignored her when she asked for notes for Geography, but he couldn’t help it.

Every time he looked at her, he was reminded of what she had done and the anger had risen up inside him. It made him furious that someone who meant as much to him as Belle did could just try and throw her life away. He remembered all the times she’d helped him, and constantly wondered why she wasn’t aware that he would do anything he could to help her. He had seen her change, little by little, but had believed that she would be okay no matter what.

She hadn’t been.

From the time they were first graders, he and Belle had been like brother and sister. She was the first person he met when his family moved. The first friend he made. She had always been sweet and confident - and, he knew deep down - she had always hurt.

Though he had never been brave enough to press for real answers the one time she’d come close to sharing with him after they had gone to see Alex in the hospital last year, he always wished he had. He knew there was more to her fear of being vulnerable than she admitted. But with time, the memory faded, and without even realizing it, he bought into the lie that she was fine.

Andrew couldn’t bring himself to look at her. Now that her ever-present smile was gone, and she dressed like she didn’t care. Because he knew this was the real Belle, and he wondered how long she’d been in hiding.

Despite everything, Andrew sensed God working in him. As much as he was sure his faith would shatter knowing that the Lord would allow this to happen - he only felt it growing. He knew it was going to take a long time before he could come to terms with what happened, but he was willing to wait.

What was important now was to somehow find it in himself to look outside himself, and give to Belle what she had given him countless times, when she put aside her own pain to help him deal with his own.

He prayed often and hard, knowing that by his own strength he had nothing to offer Belle but anger and blame. He wasn’t expecting a quick fix and didn’t want one. He wanted to do God’s will, even if it was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

Andrew knew he would go to the party. He would see his friends, and he would talk to Belle. He couldn’t even imagine how much courage it had taken her to come up and talk to him, knowing that he was upset with her. But Belle had.

It wasn’t going to be easy, but walking into God’s will and outside of your own was rarely easy.

Andrew smiled.

Rarely easy, but always worth it in the end.