Chevy Stevens - Always Watching

“But you didn’t?”

“I’d met my husband by then. He saw Joseph outside my house one day and told him that he’d kill him if he came near me again. We didn’t hear from him after that.”

I remembered when my father had shown up to claim us. It seemed like they were all for pressuring people until there were any confrontations with angry fathers or husbands. They were careful to fly under the radar.

Tammy’s tone had been proud, happy to have a protective husband, but then it changed to sad as she said, “It’s hard, not being able to talk to Nicole or anything. She was my best friend.”

I gave her a sympathetic smile, and said, “I imagine you miss her a lot.” I waited a moment, then asked, “Did you ever see Aaron with other girls?”

She nodded. “Sometimes he’d be really nice to a new girl and ignore me or Nicole so we’d know what he was probably doing. But the weird thing is I’d be jealous, like it meant I wasn’t special anymore or something.”

“It’s normal to want to feel special, but that doesn’t mean that you wanted his sexual attention. You shouldn’t feel ashamed of those feelings.”

Tammy looked a little relieved. “I think sometimes that’s why Nicole went back. She wanted to be there, where that stuff was normal, because then she didn’t feel so weird about it. Out here, she felt more ashamed… and dirty.”

I felt sad, thinking of this young girl struggling on her own with these emotions. “Some people have difficulty adjusting to a new environment with less structure, where no one is telling you what to say or do all the time, especially without your family and friends for support. That may be another reason Nicole chose to go back.”

“It was tough sometimes. I’d remember how scary Joseph looked, and I’d have nightmares about him showing up to take me back. I still do.” She even glanced at her door, like he might hear her speaking his name.

I said, “Was Joseph ever violent at the commune? Or what about Aaron, if someone did something wrong, or wanted to leave?”

“Not that I remember…” She squinted, thinking back. “The counselors just consult with Aaron, then he takes that person for an adjustment.”

“Who are the counselors?”

“Members who’ve been there a long time,” she said. “They’re sort of like our mentors, and they helped us when we were having problems. Sometimes they told us how to help the other members. Mostly, if someone did something wrong in meditation, like drank water early or went to the bathroom, we weren’t allowed to talk to them.”

“Did anyone else ever try to leave? How did you get out?”

“We worked at the store and made some friends on the outside. We were scared because when other people had moved out, Aaron said that terrible things happened to them on the outside, like car accidents and violent crimes, or getting some bad illness. And the ones who came back said that things were harder on the outside. Like they had no money and couldn’t get a job—a lot of them would start doing drugs again. They’d come back all messed up.” She was quiet.

“What if anyone got sick?”

“We weren’t allowed medication, but everyone smoked marijuana. We weren’t supposed to talk about that with anyone who just came to retreats, only people who became full members. He said outsiders wouldn’t understand.”

I nodded, thinking over everything.

She said, “Now that you’ve told the police your story, are they going to arrest him?”

“They interviewed him, but without more witnesses, they can’t lay charges.” I explained the process.

Her face dropped, surprised and disappointed. “So nothing’s going to happen?”

“Not unless more people share their stories. If you wanted to reopen your case, now might—”

“No.” She’d started shaking her head. “I’m not going through all of that again. Their questions, it was brutal. My parents… they’d never forgive me.”

“I understand how it can feel as though you’re the one who’s done something wrong. But if Aaron’s arrested, it would break the hold he has on the members, and the center would probably shut down. Even if he flees the country, he’d be away from your sister and your parents. You might be able to reconnect.”

“I hadn’t thought about it like that before.” Her baby started crying in his playpen, and she walked over and picked him up, bouncing him on her hip. She said, “I have to get him down soon. Do you mind if I think everything over?”

“Of course. I’m curious, though. Why were you willing to meet with me?”

“I’ve never talked to anybody else who, you know, lived with them.”

We held gazes. I said, “Thank you for letting me come here today and speak with you. It also helped me to share my story with you.”

She gave a small smile, but added, “I still don’t think I want to talk to the cops about it again. I’m sorry.”

“Take your time. You don’t have to make any decisions tonight.” I took some paper out of my purse and wrote down my number. “I know this is painful. And there are a lot of things to consider.” I slid the paper across the table as I said, “If you ever want to talk, give me a call.”

“Thanks.”

Still standing by the playpen, she held her son tight as she looked away and nuzzled his hair. The baby gave me a gummy grin.

Outside in my car, I sat for a moment and stared back at her house, thinking about Joseph’s last visit to her home. Was I being reckless? Putting myself, Tammy, and who knows who else at risk? I thought again about Willow, possibly lying in a lonely grave in the forest, no one but birds and animals a witness to her death. Then I reminded myself that we still didn’t know for sure that Aaron had harmed her. If he had, it was a different situation. She was a runaway, not someone who would easily be missed. He would have a harder time denying his involvement if something were to happen to me or anyone else I spoke with. Still, I locked my doors and glanced around, looking for anyone else sitting in their vehicles. The street was quiet.

I’d hoped that I’d hear from Tammy soon, but as a day turned into a week, I began to accept that she would likely never pursue criminal charges against Aaron. I couldn’t blame her; it was a difficult process. I’d called Corporal Cruikshank and told her what I’d learned, but she said that it was all hearsay, so they couldn’t act on it unless it came from Tammy. She suggested she talk to her, but I had a feeling Tammy would shut down if she felt pressured and asked that she wait a few more days. I also didn’t want to call Tammy again without any additional information, or upset her, but I was worried about how she might be feeling since our visit. It might have opened a lot of pain for her, and I wasn’t sure how much support she had from her husband. I was still debating my options when my worst nightmare came true.

I was sound asleep when one of the nurses in emergency called.

“Sorry to wake you, Dr. Lavoie, but your daughter, Lisa, was brought in unconscious tonight. You’re listed as her emergency contact in her records.”

I bolted awake. “Is she okay? What happened?”

“A witness reported she was vomiting and, as he said, ‘jerking around’ before collapsing, then losing consciousness. There’s no evidence of head injury, so we need to know if she has any allergies or takes any medication.”

“No, no allergies, but—” I hesitated, remembering Lisa saying, I’m clean. “She has a history of drug abuse.”

I remembered her first overdose on methamphetamine when she was sixteen. She’d been hallucinating and started to hit me while I was driving, nearly killing both of us. There might have been more occasions when she was an adult that I never found out about. If she was treated and released quickly, they would have no reason to notify me. But this time they called, which meant it was serious.