"Is that the only reason you lied?"
"I don't know. It's hard to explain. It's like, I guess I was pretty
sure they wouldn't arrest me or anything since I was in the hospital
and all. But I thought if they knew what I'd been doing, they wouldn't
believe me about what happened. Or maybe they'd believe me but not
really care, since I, like, you know, kind of got myself in that
situation. And I wanted them to believe me and go out and find who did
it. So I told the truth about what they did to me, but I didn't tell
them the parts I figured didn't matter as much. Does that make any
sense?"
"It makes a lot of sense. Are you still doing that? Are you still
leaving things out that you think aren't important?"
"No. Detective Walker said he'd work on my case even if it turned out
that I had been doing something bad before it happened."
"Good, because he meant it. I think you're a very smart young woman
and you've been brave to tell the truth."
She stuck her chin out, rolled her eyes, and tried hard to hide a
smile. "Thanks." She probably wasn't used to compliments.
"I know you don't know us very well, but can you tell us why you don't
like living here?" I asked.
"It's actually OK right now."
I'd forgotten how frustrating it is to try to talk to a kid. "Why do
you run away?"
"Last time I left was because I was going crazy here. I felt really
sick and wanted to get some horse. The doctor says I've gotten to
where my body wants it, even if I don't think I do."
"Is that why you started in prostitution?"
"I wouldn't really call it prostitution. I mean, I guess it's gotten
to that, but that's not how it started. It was just like I'd hear
about somebody who was, like, holding and then I'd find them and try to
get some. But most of the time I didn't have any money. At first, I'd
offer to go to the Kmart and, like, shoplift something in return. That
was working OK, but then all the stores around here started telling me
not to come in anymore.
"So then, last summer, some guy told me he'd give me the stuff if I'd
you know, if I'd, like, let him put it in my mouth. And that seemed
like a way for me to get what I wanted without getting caught stealing
or anything. Once I started getting it that way, I started to, like,
use even more of it."
"When did you start using heroin?"
"The middle of seventh grade, so like maybe a year ago?"
"Do kids at your school do that already?"
"No. Some of the kids smoke pot and stuff."
This was like pulling teeth. "So how did you wind up using heroin in
the seventh grade?"
"If I say, are you gonna tell my mom?"
"Not if we don't have to."
For a second, I thought that wasn't going to be good enough for her.
Kendra looked down at Eminem on her sweatshirt and started rubbing out
a blob of ketchup that had fallen out of her hamburger onto his pecs.
It was like she forgot we were there. Without raising her head, she
said, "Mom already feels real bad that I'm, like, the way I am. She
thinks it's her fault or something for not being with me more. If she
knew how it started, she'd, like, really freak out and blame herself
and stuff."
"You're very considerate to be concerned about your mom. I know she
works hard to keep everything going around here, and I won't tell her
things that you tell me unless the law requires me to."
She thought about that for a moment. "It started a while ago. My dad
doesn't live with us. I don't know him, actually. Mom works all the
time, so I'm usually here alone. I don't really mind. But every once
in a while, she has a boyfriend start living here. I don't know why
she dates these loser guys who don't even have jobs and stuff when she
works so hard.
"Anyway, last year this guy named Joe was staying here with us. He
said he was a contractor, but he like never left the house or anything.
I guess one day while I was at school, he went nosing through my stuff
in my room. I had a little bag of pot hidden in my dresser. I'd only
smoked it once. Me and my friend got it from this guy at school, just
to try it.
"So anyway, when I got home, he's sitting on the couch holding this
bag. He said he was gonna tell Mom unless I could keep a secret about
him. And then he goes into Mom's room and brings out his gym bag. He
had a bunch of pot in there, but he had heroin too. He told me he
didn't tell my mom or anything 'cause of how she feels about drugs, but
he'd let me use some. I didn't want to, 'cause that seemed like way
more major than pot. But Joe said popping wasn't really like shooting
up or anything and wasn't as big of a deal. And he said if I didn't
try it, then I wouldn't be in on his secret, and he'd tell Mom mine. So
I tried it."
"Is that the only time you used heroin with him?"
"Yeah, right. He wanted me to do it with him again like a week later,
then it was more and more, until he was waiting for me almost every day
after school."
"Kendra, did Joe ever touch you or do anything sexual to you?"
"Not really. He'd like touch my hair and stuff when we were high. Gave
me the heebie-jeebies. He was totally gross. After a couple months, I
guess Mom found his stash and kicked him out. I was happy he was gone,
but then I didn't have any way to get the heroin."
I didn't know what to say. This poor girl had destroyed herself out of
fear that she would create one more source of stress in her overworked
mother's life. Now, even after all she'd been through, she still
worried more for her mother's well-being than her own. I hoped Andrea
Martin deserved the concern.
"Before you started being with men in order to get the heroin, had you
ever engaged in any other sexual activity?"
She blushed and looked down at the floor. "Just kissing and stuff with
a couple boys at school."
"No older boys?"
"Unh-unh."
"Not Joe?"
"I said no."
"None of your mother's other boyfriends ever tried to touch you in a
bad way?"
"No. I'd tell you. How come you're so sure someone tried to get over
on me?"
I knew I had strayed from the open-ended style of questioning used with
child sex abuse victims, but it seemed unlikely that Kendra hadn't been
victimized before she began selling herself for drugs. It was
possible, but the vast majority of women who become prostitutes were
molested as children.
If she wasn't molested, my guess is that watching her mother's own
relationships with men had left her vulnerable to abuse before this Joe