K. Randis - Spilled Milk

I didn’t speak up then, so I’m speaking up now. I owe it to Brooke, and Adam, Thomas and Kat. I owe it to myself. I am asking that you issue the maximum sentence to David Nolan. Please do not let my failure to act repeat on generations to come.

I stared at the letter a long time until I heard a silent knock on the door. Heather appeared and she leaned against the desk, taking the letter from my hand. “You got justice for more than one person in that courtroom today Brooke. You should be so proud of yourself.”

I nodded, stunned. “Yea, but that means someone in my family knew what kind of person he was even back then. And they did nothing about it?”

My heart ached. Who could leave two little children in the care of that monster, knowingly? I didn’t even recognize the name on the letter. Whoever he was, he was obviously so ashamed of what he went through that he couldn’t even bring himself to be around family anymore. Was a family’s reputation that important?

Heather nodded. “The important part is that you knew what kind of person he was and you did something about it.”

“How many more people Heather? Who else’s life did he ruin?”

Heather shrugged. “I don’t think we’ll ever know, honey. But he’s in a place where he can’t hurt anyone anymore. Including you. Your life is far from ruined, it’s just starting.”

“I wish I knew who it was so I could thank him.”

“Thank him?”

“For his letter, for coming forward so many years later. It’s not his fault. He told someone, and they didn’t listen. I don’t blame him. But I don’t regret what’s happened. I don’t think I’d be the person I am right now if I didn’t go through that. Maybe I would have just run off to college, ran away like he did.”

Heather cocked her head to one side. “You’re the exception to every rule, you know that?” She reached out for a hug. “Now go, you have some celebrating to do.”

A Saylorsburg man was found guilty with raping a girl at his Kunkletown home twice on two separate occasions. David Nolan, 48, was found guilty after the jury deliberated for more than an hour following a two-day trial. Nolan, who had no prior criminal record, will be sentenced at a later date.

I pushed the headline away after reading it for the hundredth time. There was so much missing information and emotion intertwined in those three unimpressive sentences.

The newspaper lingered above the trash can as I looked down at the print suspended in air. I grabbed a pair of scissors and snipped out the article before I could change my mind, folding it in half. Maybe I would need a reminder now and then that he really was in jail, and this all really did happen.

Two weeks later I got that reminder, in the form of a panicked phone call from Mom. “Brooke, did you get an unmarked letter in the mail?”

“No, why?”

“Your brothers did. And your sister. I got one too.”

“What is it?”

“Maybe you should come read it.”

When I opened the front door at my mom’s she was one the phone. “I know, I know everyone got them. Just throw it out, if you want. Hey, Brooke is here, let me go.” She hung up the phone and pointed to the end of the table. A cigarette dangled from the corner of her mouth.

“What’s going on?” I looked at Jason who had picked up one of the envelopes on the corner of the table.

He turned it over in his hand. “They used labels to show who it’s going to, no return sender, stamped from a postal office in Jersey?” He slid his finger under the sealed encasement and read the sheet of paper that was inside. He frowned and I walked over to him, reading over his shoulder.

Brooke denies that she ever told anyone that her father sexually abused her. She denies that the allegations are true and states that he never touched her/sexually abused her.

She tells me that her dream was during this past summer and she dreamt about a time when she was laying on her father’s bed and her father was asleep on the bed as well.

She tells me that she told her boyfriend’s mother — Gina — about this dream a month or so ago. Brooke continued to deny allegations and denies that anyone — never mind her father have ever sexually abused her.

Safety has been assessed; Brooke appears safe at this time. Sexual assault has been unsubstantiated.

“Is this the interview social services did with me at the school? How did anyone get this?” I grabbed at the white envelopes sitting on the counter. “Who else got them?”

“Everyone.” Mom flung her hands up in the air. “Aunt Jean, your cousins, grandparents…”

“They sent this to Grandma and Grandpa?” I screamed.

The sole page from the interview social services conducted made it seem like Earl’s conviction was a hoax. It was completely out of context with no explanation of why I had initially come forward blaming the abuse on dreams. Except for the core family members who were subpoenaed to court, I didn’t tell anyone about all the details. Jason still didn’t know about all the details. No one knew that I told social services they were dreams at first, we had established in court why. Now, I had over twenty people in my family opening their mail that morning to a letter they never should have seen.

I was mortified. “Who sent this? How can we find out who sent this?”

“I don’t think we can, baby,” said Jason.

There was nothing but a single addressed label on the front and a stamp postmarked with the date. The location of the post office read Kilmer, NJ. Jason was right. Someone made it a point to make sure these letters didn’t get traced back to whoever sent them.

“Mom, how am I supposed to explain this to everyone?”

“I don’t know, maybe we can start calling everyone and…”

“No,” Jason’s voiced boomed, “You’re not calling anyone.”

His outburst startled me. “What do you mean Jason? I have to-”

“If anyone in your family is going to question whether or not this really happened based on some shady attempt at blackmailing you then you don’t owe them any explanations. It’s not your place to have to explain to every family member every detail of what happened. They know what happened, and if they don’t believe you because of some letter then screw them.”

I put my hand on his back as he turned away and ran his hand through his hair. “I mean what kind of sick bastard is still trying to control the situation from the other side of a damn prison wall?”

I’d never seen him upset like that, but he was right. I shouldn’t have to give explanations. Not to them, not to anyone. The details of what happened to me were already exposed in abundance throughout the last two years. Those people I never had to see again. I didn’t need to re-traumatize myself by calling everyone in my family on top of it.

“He worked in Jersey,” Mom said. She eyed Jason as he settled down. “He must have sent the letter to a buddy he worked with, had them send it out so it wouldn’t get back to him.”

“Maybe, but Jason’s right. He just wants to prove he’s still in control. I still want to call grandma and grandpa though. I can’t stand them thinking I lied about anything.”

The phone rang twice as I twirled my hair around my index finger. The front porch gave my some privacy while I made the call. When Grandpa picked up, I asked him if he had gotten any strange mail with information about me in it.

“Oh uh, yea. We got that.” I opened my mouth to start talking and was cut off. “Don’t worry, I um, threw it out. Didn’t need your grandma reading that garbage.”

“Thanks Grandpa.”

Jason smiled at look on my face as I hung up.