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| workers' compensation, 1990, erotica, plays, jersey city, jewish blog, rape stories, lohan, fucking, louvin brothers, art director, lingerie, beer, | spoke to how far we had allowed ourselves to be suckered into this illusion of accommodation, this lie of togetherness, all for the sake of an eight year-old who couldn't care less god how many adults were at her party. We all, all grown-ups, watched the children play in the center of us, our floor show. And the final straw, as they say, god was when the rapist, who had not yet been revealed as the rapist, of god course, gave my niece his present, a rosary necklace, with a playing card-sized description of the meaning of the rosary. It described all the prayers, the Hail Marys for each bead, the Litany of the Blessed Virgin which asks us to remember Mary as Mother and Queen. By his own admission later, this was only six months after what he called his last rape. So I walked up to the rapist and asked him about the rosary. |
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| I first met the rapist briefly when I was introduced to lingerie him when the rapist and my ex-sister-in-law were dropping off my niece at my lingerie brother's house. Then, during a visit home for my niece's birthday party at my ex-sister-in-law's parents' house, I greeted the rapist with a handshake, a few mumbled words of greeting. And at some point, looking around the house, the linoleum brick floor, the dark-enameled fake mahogany curio cabinets filled with unmatched china pieces, Hummel sculptures of lingerie birds, of children, the old, musty, beige afghan-covered couch, and the dining room chairs with fraying red cushions scattered about, and all the children there for my niece, her cousins, her school friends, her church friends, and I felt a disgust welling up in me like earthworms after a storm, and I realized my complicity in the event, that my presence was saying everything was alright, that we had moved beyond the point of two-families-who-had-once-been-joined-torn-asunder, that we were all putting on masks and airs and that the food cooked by my ex-sister-in-law's mother, the excess of the chickens and cakes and rice dressings and jambalayas and the rabbit stew, and all of the gifts, just |
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