A Song for Julia

wanted to know everything about her.
    “So, right before Christmas, he took me … somewhere in Beijing. It’s a huge city. Unbelievably huge. I was lost. There was a doctor there, and no one spoke English. I didn’t even fully understand what was going on. So while I was in the exam room, having my insides scraped out by some doctor, he left.”
    She looked bleak as she spoke the words. I didn’t know what to think, except that if I ever saw the bastard who did that to her, I’d kill him. But she kept talking, and it just got worse.
    “I finally got out of there … it was late afternoon and snowing. And I didn’t speak much more Chinese than ‘Where’s the bathroom?’ No one in that part of the city spoke English. I was lost and terrified and bleeding and … it was a nightmare.”
    “What happened?” Sean asked.
    She shrugged. “I finally found my way home. It was almost midnight, and my parents grounded me. And I tried to put my life back together. But my senior year, when I was in Bethesda, word got out.”
    Oh, God, I thought, closing my eyes.
    “How?” Sean asked.
    I opened my eyes. She smiled bitterly. “My best friend and I got into a fight right before I left China. And she emailed the story to everyone at our school, but twisted it. She had a picture. I don’t know where she got it. But it was me, and I was drunk … and … anyway. One thing led to another, and the story got out with the students at my new school.”
    “Were they mean?”
    She nodded. Her eyes were watery, bloodshot. “Yes. I know some people have worse problems, and it seems trivial. But I would walk down the halls, and hear them whisper, slut and whore , and worse. Every day. No one would talk to me. No one would even be civil. And my mother—you have to understand, we were supposed to be in Russia. It was supposed to be the crown of my father’s career, as Ambassador to Russia. But because of the rumors, one of the Senators blocked his appointment for two years. So my parents weren’t very understanding. I went home every night that year, locked myself in my room, and cried myself to sleep. I promised myself I’d never trust anyone again.”
    Damn, I thought, looking in. Her story was near enough to bringing me to tears, and a look in showed that Sean was crying. “Sometimes I feel like killing people who do stuff like that,” he said, his tone vicious. “They do the same stuff to me sometimes. Call me names. Push me around.”
    She put her right arm around his shoulder. Usually, when someone touches Sean, he moves away and quickly. He didn’t this time. “It gets better.”
    “How?” he asked, his voice full of grief.
    “Time,” she said. “Distance.”
    “But you said you’d never trust anyone again. Why did you tell me?”
    She gave him a sad smile. “Because you’re special. You’re just like me. So I know I can trust you.”
    He didn’t answer right away. It was like he was processing what she said, trying to make sense of it. To be honest, I was too.
    After a couple minutes of silence, the two of them just sitting together, he said, “Last year, on my birthday, my dad gave me Grandpa’s first police hat. And I wore it, all the time. The kids at school made fun of me. I know it was stupid. Nobody at school wears things like that. But I liked it. When I was little I wanted to be a cop, like my dad. But one day, they grabbed me and pulled me in the bathroom, and stuffed it down the toilet.”
    I could see his fists clenched as he told the story, and his face was screwed up: angry, eyes narrowed, eyebrows drawn down. He looked like he wanted to slam a fist through a wall.
    “What happened?” she asked.
    “I got suspended for a week because I fought back. That’s what always happens. They can push me around or hit me and get away with it, but if I do anything, I get punished. It’s not even just at school. When Dad’s National Guard unit was activated after September 11, I had to go live with Grandpa for a while. And he was just the same. I hate them.”
    Jesus. I knew it was bad for him. But I didn’t know it was that bad.
    She closed her eyes, wrapping her arms back around her knees again. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, Sean.”
    “Do you think I should apologize to my mom?”
    I held my breath. Sean hadn’t spoken to our mother in … well, pretty much as long as me. And I was starting to realize, maybe I wasn’t as innocent as I thought. I mean, I know kids, when their