Good Intentions
1984, Chattanooga, Tennessee
By Marla H. Thurman
The morning of the rape I was just out of the shower when someone knocked on the door. In my robe I peered out the peephole. “What the….” I unlocked the door and opened it just a bit.
“Wes, what are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you,” Wes said, holding his baseball cap in his hands and looking at his shoes.
I sighed heavily. “Well, come in, then. But I only have a minute. I’ve got to get ready for work.”
He sat down on my couch without being invited. Did someone die? I wondered.
I’d met Wes years earlier, at the lake. We went out a couple of times before I told him he really wasn’t my type. He wasn’t smart enough was more the truth. Wes, though, managed to find me or run into me often.
“What in the world is going on?” I figured something huge must have happened for Wes to come to my house at six-thirty in the morning.
“Nothing,” Wes answered. “I just need to get some things straightened out. Will you sit here with me for a minute?”
“Wes,” I started. “I have to get ready for work. He just looked at me. “OK,” I said, sitting opposite him on the couch. “What?”
“I know how you feel,” he said, “you being Catholic and all. You know, you say you aren’t attracted to me?” It was a question that wasn’t really a question. “Well, I’ve been thinking about that a lot … and I think you’re just afraid.”
I frowned. “Wes, I….”
“You haven’t ever been married,” he interrupted. “I have. I know what it’s like to be with somebody, and I know how good things can be if you let them.”
I started to get up. “Wes, really. I can’t do this right now,” I said. “I know how you feel and I’m sorry….”
He cut me off again. “It’s your Catholic upbringing,” he said, enunciating in the way he did when he was trying to sound smart. “Catholics think sex is bad. I know,” he said. “I read that in a book. Catholics think two people have to be married to have sex. I’ve studied on it.”
“Wes. . . .”
“Let me finish. It’s that Catholic thinking got inside your head and made you feel like sex is only for married people. I already told you I’d marry you. But sex is about love. I love you, Jane.”
“We’ve been through this before, Wes,” I said. “I don’t love you.”
I got up and started for the door to show him out, but he caught me by the wrist. “I read about how Catholics have all this guilt over sex,” he said. “And I know if you could just see how a woman and a man are made to fit together you’d realize that I can give you everything you need.”
I thought then that he might be a little crazy. “Wes, I don’t need a biology lesson. I’m sorry, but I’d really like you to leave now.”
“I can’t do that.” He pulled me down onto the couch. “I need to show you. God made us to fit together.” He leaned over to kiss me.
I pulled back abruptly. “I need you to leave,” I said, my voice shaking but firm. “Now.”
Just then Wes caught my other wrist in his free hand. “Just relax,” he said. “Let me love on you.”
“No, Wes,” I said. His words sickened me. But even as I spoke he was pushing me, forcing my body back onto the couch.
“Just go with it,” he coaxed. He pushed me all the way down and was kissing my neck.
“Stop, please!” I heard myself begging.
I wanted to scream. My apartment was a remodeled two-car garage in my landlord’s backyard and I was sure he would hear me if I screamed, but I was too embarrassed. How did I let this happen?
Wes pushed his knee between my legs. “No!” I cried out. “Please!” I tried to squeeze my legs together.
In response, Wes lifted my hands above my head and pinned them to the couch with one of his big hands. My mind was just beginning to grasp what was happening. I arched my back violently, twisting from side to side, trying desperately to get him off me. Wes reached down with his free hand and pushed my right leg off the couch. He moved himself farther up in between my legs.
“Don’t do this!” I said loudly. I was sweating and I started to cry.
“It’s OK, Jane,” Wes said, pulling at the crotch of my panties. “This is natural. Sex is just natural.” My panties tore and I felt his hand on my body.
He unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants. “It’s okay,” he said.
Nothing was OK. It was excruciating. My eyes squeezed shut, I tried not to feel, not to smell his animal smell.
When it was over Wes stood next to the couch and zipped his fly. I pulled my robe closed and somehow managed to sit up. I was shaking violently.
“You see?” Wes said. “It’s just like I told you. Our bodies were made to fit together. Now we can be happy.” He smiled at me.
I sobbed. Wes knelt beside me and I drew back in fear. “You don’t need to feel guilty,” he said soothingly. “This is what men and women are supposed to do.”
I laughed, a crazy, abrupt plea.
Wes stood up and patted me on the head, as if I were a dog. “Tonight it’ll be even better.”
I inhaled sharply, then looked to see if he had noticed.
He walked to the door and opened it. “I’ll suck on your titties tonight,” he said, and giggled. “That makes women get real hot. See you later.” His voice was cheerful as he went out the door.
Marla H. Thurman lives in Signal Mountain, Tennessee, her hometown, with her two dogs, Oreo and Sleeper. She has published numerous reflections and articles in Sage of Consciousness Magazine, The East Tennessee Catholic, The National Catholic Reporter, InSync Magazine, and more.
Posted by Elizabeth Armstrong Moore on Tuesday, March 27th, 2007 | Email This PostThis entry was posted on Tuesday, March 27th, 2007 at 12:01 am. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
31 Responses to “Good Intentions”
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March 27th, 2007 at 8:16 am
What I find particularly creepy is that Wes doesn’t seem to realize that he’s commiting rape. I can almost follow the machinations that must have gone on in his mind: If I “make love” to her, she’ll like it and she’ll like me…” Shudder!
March 27th, 2007 at 10:14 am
What a painful memory. I could feel your fear and despair. Some men just don’t get it.
Wonderfully written. Keep it up.
March 27th, 2007 at 11:06 am
I’d like to put my hands on him. But he wouldn’t like it one bit. I promise. I used to have nightmares like this…call it old baggage from childhood. Some guys are just sick in the head like that. I could feel the scene come to life with your words. You tell a wicked tale, Marla.
March 27th, 2007 at 11:25 am
How painful. This story is so emotional and passionate. Perhaps because I have been where this Jane has, it made me shake, and remember my own past. People like Wes sicken me, and I’d love to ring his freakin neck! I could feel your pain and honesty and shame, and everything shining through this story. Because it’s so much more than a story. Your writing is amazing. You really have a gift Marla. But then again I suppose you knew that.
Thank you for being brave.
March 27th, 2007 at 12:03 pm
very well written and takes a firm grip on your mind.
about “wes”… can anyone be this stupidly insensitive? i guess the answer to this is “yes” as rape happens so much, under so many different labels.
March 27th, 2007 at 12:03 pm
That’s so horrible, but it makes me respect you so much more for overcoming it. I can’t believe he thought it was all because you were Catholic. What a jerk.
March 27th, 2007 at 2:58 pm
Well, yes. That’s a difficult one. From a personal standpoint, it is so maddening that this goes on and people (some men) seem to think that they are really not doing anything wrong.
From a literary standpoint, the ending is brilliant. I hope that’s not too good a word to attach to such a disturbing story. The thing is that you stop at just the right moment. We are left to wonder and almost dread what is coming. It has a Flannery O’Connor feel. (You love that, don’t you?) She was a southern Catholic, too, you know.
March 27th, 2007 at 4:47 pm
it makes me want to punch him in the face and give you lots of hugs.
it’s interesting to me that this story tells you in the first sentance what will happen, yet the entire time reading it, you’re still in suspense, in a way. i dont know if that k=makes complete sense, but yeah… basically i think you’re amazing!
March 27th, 2007 at 4:49 pm
*shudders* I cannot believe he thought it was because you were Catholic. I cannot believe he didn’t view that as rape. I wish the worst in the world upon him and people like him. Bastards.
From the literary view - superbly written, Marla, as always. You really have the talent to rip into the heart of your reader so he/she is right there with you. The ending was perfect. Horrifying, but perfect.
March 28th, 2007 at 6:05 am
Thank you for sharing this story with me, Marla. It’s very powerful–written with a spare, haunting prose. The last line is terrifying–and a very powerful place to end, leaving the reader wonder–and dreading.
March 28th, 2007 at 8:58 am
Marla,
Extremely well written and chilling. I wanted more: All the details of what you did, etc., but then a writer should always leave the reader wanting more. Interesting that I’ve seen no comments from men as yet. Perhaps, for many of them — as for me, Wes’s actions are too disgusting for words. Thanks for sharing, Marla.
March 29th, 2007 at 6:02 am
I’m stunned. Stunned that someone can be alive but yet not really human.
When I read stuff like this, my first reaction is that I want this same thing, on this same level, to happen to this person. But I know that if nothing ever happens to him in this life that brings him to the point that he truly realizes what he did to you and took from you, he WILL have that moment of clarity when he stands before his maker. And in the presence of GOD himself, there will be no denial, deception or excuses…
The fact that you wrote about this speaks volumes about your inner strength and then the fact that you PUBLISHED it speaks even more about the depth of your healing.
From someone who understands a little too well, I thank you for sharing this.
SJ
March 29th, 2007 at 6:36 am
Marla-proud of your courage…jealous of your writing!! Excellent piece.
March 29th, 2007 at 7:23 am
I can’t recall ever reading something so skillfully and beautifully written that took me to such depths of sorrow, challenging me to struggle with such completely inadequate empathy as a male, meanwhile leaving me with waves of helpless regret by gender association over what you experienced.
They say time heals. I put my sincerest hopes on love AND time. Your life as a writer has obviously survived; you’re reaching out to share your life in poignant clarity, beauty and love.
For you and for your writing I am truly grateful.
March 29th, 2007 at 10:07 am
to everyone:
sending this story in to common ties was a big step and i told very few people they were going to publish it. it is important to me on a number of levels, but the primary reason i needed to publish this was so i could get on with doing something with my memoirs, which are much tougher to share than this could ever be. this, after all, was just a guy i knew. the “bad guys” in my memoirs are so much more to me.
i thought at first that common ties had changed MY name in this story, while i had changed the man’s. not so. i reread my entry and there it was in black and white. i changed my own name and don’t even remember doing it. some part of me must have wanted that extra layer of protection. BUT I AM FINE NOW. years of therapy will do that for you.
i’m exceedingly grateful for all of your comments. the personal reactions are what i was looking for in writing the piece. rape should evoke much emotion. the literary criticism helped me feel more confident as a writer. some days i know i’m good–other days i’m less certain.
just know that for me this piece is mostly about writing these days. people really do heal. and every two minutes in america, a woman needs to start healing from rape. i hope someone who reads this realizes that healing is possible, and that they go for it.
March 29th, 2007 at 7:14 pm
its a pity there is such depravity in the world but Marla articulates it well. Alas, there is a good God who heals the human heart.
March 30th, 2007 at 9:54 am
There is an important legal principle enunciated in the Talmud 1500 years ago that has still not penetrated some legal and cultural systems. Namely, that when an act starts as rape it does not change status even if the woman begins to enjoy it partway through.
Unfortunately, a lot of the game-playing among dating people involves the woman saying “No” when she means “Yes”. There are people having sex for their tenth time and each time she puts up a faux resistance. There is role playing and S & M etcetera, all founded on this scenario or its inverse [girl forces boy]. (If I’m telling you something you don’t know, I apologize.) In fact, when a Hollywood movie wants to signal that a guy is a real “player”, they have him open a drawer or something to reveal a pair of handcuffs. One guy I knew had a girlfriend who would leave the window open to the fire escape so he would come in and pretend to be a burglar and… enough said.
I think the women who find that cute or guilt-reducing or something probably should stop having that particular brand of “fun”. It breeds this kind of guy who has persisted his way through resistance into acquiescence a number of times and then stops recognizing the type of “No” that really means “No”.
Marla, in a sense you are partly the victim of the last girl who shrugged this off or encouraged it. And I certainly hope you went to the authorities, if not to get your own justice, then to protect the next woman.
March 30th, 2007 at 12:54 pm
When, as a youth, I was confronted with that suggestion (re: Mr. Homnick, above), probably as a test, by a woman I once knew and still admire, I responded approximately as you did without stopping to think how stupid it was to suggest, in any way, that the blame should be lessened due to some vague notion of sexual role playing by a hypothetical woman somewhere else that was “in to” kinky sex.
Until we, as men, take a stand to confront and soundly renounce such fantastic explanations some would offer to minimize our responsibilities, we’re more to blame than all those hypothetical women like the one you referred to who allegedly shrugged it off. I’m dismayed to see the fantasy persists so blantantly, even today.
By the way, just as a word to the wise: I failed the test. I never heard from that beautiful woman again, though I’m grateful for her to this day for teaching me a lesson I needed to learn.
March 31st, 2007 at 9:17 am
to jay:
any “no” should be taken to mean “no.” i don’t care about fetishes or coquettish behaviors; they do not cause rape. are men that stupid? the man in this story seems to be. but regardless of intention, REGARDLESS, any man pressing on after he has been told no should be castrated. who gives the man permission to behave as if he knows what every word means? no means no. period. how much translation does that two-letter word need? men in general seem to think they can do pretty much anything they please as long as strenghth permits. i say, “ladies, kick ‘em in the balls, scream your guts out, and forget about who might see or hear. you want people to see and hear to stop the pushy bastards. any embarrassment or shame is not yours.”
April 1st, 2007 at 9:54 am
I’m not sure what Mr. Thomas’ critique is, but my point stands.
Any and all game-playing in which “no” is code for “yes” damages the healthy balance of communication between men and women in which no should be taken as no.
Here is a little exercise. How many movies have you seen in which the girl tells the boy this is not a very good idea and we shouldn’t do this and then the camera cuts to them making out like crazy? You think that is helping the message that no means no?
April 1st, 2007 at 11:21 am
and here is an exercise: imagine that every two minutes a woman says no and a man decides she means yes. she isn’t participating. she shows only that she wants out, away. the man isn’t thinking, “ah, she wants me.” he is thinking, “i’m doing this anyway.” that’s reality in america.
rape is not about sex, jay, it is about power.
movies are fantasy. sometimes people go there, but if a woman means no you can damn well bet the man knows she means no. rape doesn’t happen accidentally and to imply a woman is responsible is dangerous and fallacious. you are trying to blur a boundary by inserting a non-issue. the kind of thinking you are asserting as the reason for rape is very misogynistic.
how many men are really that stupid? even this seemingly clueless guy did what he did to prove he was right, not because the woman–me–wanted it. that i can guarantee.
no woman who is being raped “begins to enjoy it partway through.” that’s just sick male thinking that, fortunately, many males recognize as ludicrous.
April 1st, 2007 at 1:04 pm
Marla, I am talking about doing things in the broader society to protect people like you.
Those kind of messages in TV and movies do affect people’s behavior. As one commentator brilliantly said: “TV claims their programming does not influence social behavior. Then they charge you a million dollars for sixty seconds of advertising on the premise that it influences social behavior. They can’t have it both ways.”
Again, I am talking about altering social constructs to protect people in your position. That does not excuse any individual from culpability or mitigate it in any way.
This is something any sociologist (or lexicographer) can tell you will make a real difference. When the culture bands together to use certain words only in one way, those words gain a greater power by their clearer definition.
April 1st, 2007 at 1:20 pm
Oh, incidentally, to clarify a point that readers might have misunderstood.
What you said, Marla, that women do not begin to enjoy it partway through and that only a sick male fantasy creates that notion, is exactly the point I was quoting from the Talmud. By establishing a legal premise that a rape is determined by the first moment, they cut off that male fantasy of thinking they will undo the rape by being gentle after the initial duress.
This was a remarkably progressive view, light years ahead of its time. (I should point out that the Talmud claims not to be making anything up but merely recording the traditions behind Biblical texts. In other words, if you believe the Talmud, Jews have advanced this principle for all 3300 years of their history. If you don’t, then you still have to give them the 1500 years since the Talmud was written.)
April 1st, 2007 at 5:22 pm
I’ll bet if we all sat down and talked this out, we’d be closer to agreement than anything else. It is true that the idea that women secretly want to be raped is prevalent in a lot of what I’ll call “trashy” literature, and possibly in some myths and such. It is an idea that we need to resist completely. Given the emotional and psychological nature of sex–for women, at least–it is right next to impossible for me to believe that any woman might begin to “enjoy” rape. If I am reading correctly, we all agree on this point.
I think it is a testament to the power of this story that it has provoked such conversation. It’s a conversation that needs to go on in lots of places so that women will be encouraged to speak out and men will be shown the truth. I do believe, however, that most of the time rape is violence, and sex is merely the weapon. People given to violence are rarely persuaded by reason.
April 2nd, 2007 at 1:16 pm
Marla, you are incredibly strong. Your message helps to evoke the changes that are very necessary. Godspeed for that change to come.
April 3rd, 2007 at 2:37 pm
You have shown how a twisted mind makes his actions reasonable and even “natural”….He believes he is doing a “good” thing for you…..
I admire your writing for its brevity but all the emotion is there. Everything we need to know ….a trait I can’t seem to master!
I might have ended with his saying “Tonight, it will be better” though and cut the last paragraph….that’s pretty chilling that a “tonight” is planned already…..
April 4th, 2007 at 4:54 pm
You write so beautifully and vividly. I have known way too many people like that man. ~sigh~ I feel everything you write, so sometimes it takes me a minute to be able to respond the way I want to. Keep writing!
April 4th, 2007 at 8:15 pm
I just want to know what happened afterwards. I hope he spent a long, long time in prison.
You are a wonderful person, Marla, and I\’m glad beyond words that you survived an ordeal like this and were able to continue living, and especially having recovered enough to be able to share it in an entry as detailed as this. I was literally shaking as I read this.
Take care.
April 7th, 2007 at 5:41 pm
I was hoping this was a fictional writing, except it felt very real as I read it. I do believe rape is the single worst act someone can commit.
How you wrote this, Marla, is beautiful. You did such a great job. Very easy to follow and to get right into the heart and pain of your story. Plus you were able to portray the rapest as a confused person, which must be hard to do from your position. love to you! Colleen
April 13th, 2007 at 11:58 pm
I need an analogy right near (either before or behind) the moment of \”entry\”. I\’m thinking between your feelings/sensory details and some thing precise that would give momentum to the imagery/setting tone (it might twist the existing terms a little by application of the implied definitions in the analogy). The abrupt stop would be heightened/deepened in a way that you chose. So the detail of the second half of the analogy would need to be exceedingly well thought out. I couldn\’t do it! You could though.
Oh, you know I love it as it is. But this is the kind of thing I thought you might like!
Oh, and about that fantasy/what\’s real/what\’s propagated stuff. It\’s an interesting interplay of mixed concepts. The fantasy is the way it actually works just blown up real big, (you know guys and sizes). And it\’s that way not for just heteros either, and give it five and you\’ll think of like six more species outside your window that are the same. Anyway, that\’s not what happens in rape. And the Talmud was before its time for sure.
So without a more defined concept of what rape is someone without that knowledge (through self, friend, or relative. Think about that. A ton of women don\’t tell until they\’ve had a few and are girl talking. Lots of guys have no idea if their wife or girlfriend has been raped.), a person would constantly be relating it to every other concept it could to find a match. And the fantasy does come the closest in terminology and vocabulary. Even if two completely different things are happening as well there are so many other links in common.
But it isn\’t the fantasy or it propagation that causes this or permits or gives the impression that rape s going to be like that. Other wise it wouldn\’t be illegal.
It\’s a whole different thing.
That analogy. It could go a long way toward bridging that gap because it seems like everyone wants to try to understand something better. Or did.
This is too old eh? Where the hell was I? I\’m using profanities now. Thanks!
Hey, you know what? I have had too much to drink just now. I\’m such a sinner.
I will get to the other one tomorrow. I am so excited to read it! Thank you for sending me these links!
Got about fourteen classes scored tonight. I am not in my right mind I tell you!
But still, you keep doing this please!
April 14th, 2007 at 10:09 pm
Marla, since I’ve been away, I’m just catching up to reading this story. All I can think is how God has brought you through so many traumatic moments and how the comfort with which He has comforted you is touching others. I see how my signature verse, Jeremiah 29:11, is playing out in your life. Beautiful writing, Marla, from a beautiful person.