Читать онлайн "The Road Through Wonderland: Surviving John Holmes" - Schiller Dawn - RuLit

“Nope. Not that.”

I stare at her dark-rimmed glasses and then into her brown eyes, and a well of emotion comes to me from across the table. I am touched. “I’m sorry, Sharon,” I say with a burning need to clear my conscience. “I… John always… I thought you, well, knew. I’m… so sorry.”

“No!” She breathes a deep sigh. “I’m sorry. I never thought he would stoop so low. To me… I just couldn’t imagine it. I should have known… but, I… it was something I couldn’t look at. It’s me who should apologize. You were just a kid. I only, well, again never thought he could…” Her words fade.

In my heart, I know she was aware of John’s inappropriateness with me—all along. But I know Sharon is doing the best she can to turn past mistakes around for the better… and so am I.

I try to remember, for the book’s sake, as much of the abuse as I can stomach. Several of the details are left dark and impenetrable for many self-preserving reasons. My throat constricts when I close my eyes and picture myself back there, and I feel frustrated. Many days, the need comes over me to hike up the mountains behind my house for solace. There is a trail I take in the summer months, and right now I can’t resist.

I bring my daughter to a friend’s, throw on my hiking clothes, and head up the path. My heart begins to beat louder as I make my way up. I can’t stop asking myself, Why? Why am I bringing myself to remember such terrible memories? I cannot remember my reasons for beginning to write my story with John. I know they were good reasons, but somehow I cannot recall any of them.

I begin to chant, “God’s will, not mine. God’s will, not mine,” as I steadily climb to the top of Table Mountain.

The top is my reward. I am breathless, and my mind is clear. Everything is beautiful, and all is right with the world.

I still cannot put words to why I began to write this, but I know I am right where I am supposed to be and I say a prayer out loud, out into the sky and the wind, for strength.

EPILOGUE

Who would have thought that twenty-two years later, Hollywood would make a movie called Wonderland? But I’m not Alice, even though I fell into a world I could never have imagined. I am Dawn. For all my wishing, it seems I was never able to wipe John’s name from mine after all, but it doesn’t matter.

As with all stories, this one has as perfect an ending as you can get. And, despite all its pain and sorrow, it is simply a true story—and nothing is better than real life… if we listen.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To GOD… for my life.

To Maria Morris, the mother of my heart, for encouragement, reading my early chapters, and grading me in the loving way only a fourth grade teacher could.

To Val Kilmer for launching this book by asking for my chronology and then praising my writing. For keeping a special place on his office shelf marked “Dawn’s Book.”

To Linda Pereira—songbird, rooster, lioness, and angel—who praised me for my courage, disarmed those who spoke against me, and called me every day to make sure I hadn’t given up.

To Rhea Sampson, the Angel Lady, who kept my spirits up by sharing the words of the Angels.

To my brother, Wayne, and my sister, Terry, for the many tears we shared back then and to the healing that still needs to happen.

To my mother, Edda, for teaching me strength.

To my father, Wayne, for serving his country.

To Paula Lucas, my friend and supporter.

To my counselors and support groups who brought me out of the dark.

To the Blue Mountain Writers (BMW) and all my writing mentors.

To everyone who supported and believed in me.

PHOTOGRAPHS

^{New Jersey—Me at 6 months sitting on the lap of Great Aunt Ella}

^{With my Grandma Cora at age 6 months in New Jersey. She passed away waiting for dad to come back from Asia.}

^{My mom, great-grandma, and Great Aunt Ella in the back of the house in New Jersey. You can see the branches of my favorite climbing tree.}

^{Me, my brother, and my sister took a portrait our first year in Carol City, FL. I was 8 years old, and just about to start the 3rd grade.}

^{With my father, brother, and sister at Asbury Park, NJ. This was one of the last times I spent with my father before he left for Vietnam.}

^{My mom and dad in 1977. Dad went back and saw mom in Florida after he left me on my own at 16 in California.}

^{Summer 1977 on a day back from Zuma Beach with John and his sister-in-law, Karen. This light blue Chevy had the plates WADD on the back. John’s infamous brown Samsonite is packed with his “goodies”.}

^{David and Karen’s living room surrounded by temptation.}

^{Christmas, 1979. Visit from John’s mom & niece. John is strung-out on coke while putting on his good “show” face.}

^{John being escorted out of the courtroom, and later acquitted of murder.}

^{Early 1981. After I ran from John, before the Wonderland murders. I’m at mom’s with my brother in Oregon.}

RESOURCES

Adult Survivors of Child Abuse

www.ascasupport.org

The Morris Center

PO Box 14477

San Francisco, CA 94114

info@ascasupport.org

Ahava Kids