began shaking her. Holly groggily opened her eyes, mumbled “g’morning,” and promptly fell back to sleep. Lauren returned to her own room and fiercely jostled Jill into consciousness. That state was short-lived. With a slurred “not feelin’ well,” Jill returned to oblivion. Then Lauren spied something that sent her into panic. Peeking out above the top of the same jeans Jill had worn at dinner last night and below the ribbing of the same sweater, she saw Megan’s paisley underwear stained with blood.
Lauren immediately reached for her phone and called the number her mother had entered onto her opening screen.
“Campus Police Emergency Desk.”
“I want to report three possible sexual assaults. We’re in Gorman Hall suite 924 . . .”
Chapter 8
May the Lord answer you in the day of trouble;
May the name of the God of Jacob defend you;
May He send you help from the sanctuary,
And strengthen you out of Zion.
—Psalm 20:1–2
A campus policeman and an open-faced woman from the counseling center arrived not ten minutes later. Jill, Holly, and Megan weren’t aware of their entrance. Lauren gave a clear, brief explanation of the reason for her call. The counselor turned her attention to the other three and was able, with the policeman’s help, to bring them to the surface.
The woman, Janet, was calm, kind, and efficient. In answer to her question, “Have you been sexually assaulted?” Jill raised her shoulders and asked, rather than stated, “I don’t know?” Holly said, “Maybe.” Megan said, “No.” When Janet asked Jill why she was wearing Megan’s underwear, Jill looked down, lifted her sweater and definitely stated, “I don’t know.” With Lauren’s help as to times, Janet was gently able to get the basic story of the night before out of the other three. She was particularly interested in the details of the punch, and how they each felt on the way home. She several times reminded all four of them that they had done nothing wrong. Megan vaguely wondered why she said that, of course they hadn’t.
After she understood what she could for the time being, Janet quietly told the girls that she suspected that they had been drugged. “I am concerned that you may have hidden injuries. I would like you to come with me down to the Watauga Medical Center and have a forensic exam by a sexual assault nurse before you have a shower, use the toilet, or change your clothes. The exam will be paid for, but it will probably take several hours. It is your choice.”
Jill’s “Well, OK” was confirmed by the other two.
A minute later Lauren was all alone in 924 holding in her hand a copy of “How to Help Victims of Sexual Assault,” and holding in her mind Janet’s unqualified statement that she had been a good friend and had acted wisely. She was also left with the promise that another counselor from the center would be stopping by soon to check on her.
Down at the hospital Jill, Holly, and Megan all learned that they had sex within the past twenty-four hours with at least two men. But no evidence of drugs showed in their urines. Janet explained that this lack of evidence confirmed her suspicion that GHB, a drug known locally as Georgia Home Boy, had been in the punch. Unfortunately, this lack of evidence could not be used by the prosecutor. The SANE kits were stored, and several decisions made. Yes, they wanted protection for STD’s. Yes, they would take an emergency contraceptive pill called ella. Yes, they would report the “event” to the Poplar Police since it happened off campus. Yes, Megan would return tomorrow for some minor gynecological out-patient surgery. Yes, they wanted to prosecute Kevin Parsons. Yes, they would talk to a deputy DA for Watauga County. Yes, they felt safe returning to Gorman 924. Yes, they felt “yes” was the right thing to do. But yes, it was the most horrible day of their lives. Yes, they felt an overwhelming and crushing vulnerability. Yes, they were exhausted in every way possible. Yes, they felt ashamed, guilty, betrayed, and violated. Yes, they felt stupid and naïve. Yes, they were victimized and powerless, in spite of many kind people helping them.
As they were preparing to go, Holly said, “I now know what it means that women are the weaker vessels. Paul’s letter just doesn’t go far enough. Women are objectified and treated as inanimate meat, non-persons so vulnerable they have no power over their own bodies. We are seen as things to use.” They all cried into a group hug.
None of the girls heard the sexual assault nurse say to Janet, just as they were leaving, “Because of her dates, regularity, and exam, I think it very likely that Jill ovulated only yesterday.”
“Well, let’s hope nothing comes of it,” replied Janet quietly.
Jill, Holly, and Megan experienced a revolutionary reassessment of the world that Saturday. That the counselors, lawyers, doctors, law enforcement personnel, nurses, etc. could carry on business as usual, that this kind of trauma was expected by them and delivered every working day, that their utter disaster was simply routine for these helping professionals—showed these three very young women that the world was a much more deeply sinister place than they had realized. And being a woman took on a new and unwanted meaning, a meaning they had been trying their whole lives to deny.
Chapter 9
For my days are consumed like smoke,
And my bones are burned like a hearth.
My heart is stricken and withered like grass,
So that I forget to eat my bread.
Because of the sound of my groaning
My bones cling to my skin.
I am like a pelican of the wilderness;
I am like an owl of the desert.
I lie awake,
And am like a sparrow alone on the housetop.
—Psalm 102:3–7
Sunday morning Megan didn’t wake, because she had never really gone to sleep. But she became more self-aware by hearing herself emit a sound about half-way between a groan and a cry. She heard Holly sit up in her bottom bunk. The groan-cry formed itself into, “Oh Holly, I wish I didn’t have to go down to that darn hospital again this morning. But I know I should; the tear is still bleeding a bit.”
Holly asked, “Janet said she’d stay with you; do you want me to come along?” She immediately wished she hadn’t said it. If Megan asked her to come, what would she do? She couldn’t bear to go to the place of humiliation again.
“I doubt if you want to go down there any more than I do,” said Megan.
“I didn’t say I want to go, but I do want you to be supported,” replied Holly.
“It’s OK,” came out with a deep exhale, “I’ll just go with Janet. But please pray for me. I really don’t have the strength for this.”
Just then they heard the door close and Lauren call out, “Breakfast time.” She set a brown paper Baguette Boy bag on the coffee table and pulled out four of their favorite bagel sandwiches, “Green Eggs and Ham.” The eggs were only green because pesto sauce was spread on the bagel, normally a tantalizing meal. But nothing would be normal anymore. And none of the three victims felt like eating.
They
