But He Loves Me
By Palmtree
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When Julie says, "Hey, Maxx. Gotta run. Be right back," I know she doesn't want me to know where she's going and doesn't want me to follow her.
This of course is my signal to follow her.
About a block behind her. Far enough back to escape her notice. Close enough to help if I have to. Considering the line of people she deals with on a daily basis, I usually have to.
I don't know what drives her to work with these people. The victims I understand. But the perpetrators. To actually feel sorry for them and want to help them out when they have done the victimizing...I just don't get it; even when she says, "If we don't understand why they do what they do, if we can't reach them, we can't prevent it from happening again."
I thought a social worker was supposed to be an advocate for the helpless? Not the dangerous characters who help themselves.
The shelter was about 3 blocks from her apartment. I keep telling her she should move to a safer part of town, but does she listen?
A woman paced outside the shelter, rubbing her arms, her shoulders hunched up under her ears, looking as skittish as an alley cat, and about as thin.
"Gina," Julie said taking the young lady's arm and pulling her around the corner for a private talk.
Gina tried to duck her face to one side, away from Julie's eyes, but too late.
Julie gave an appreciateive whistle as she examined the shiner some low-life had given the girl.
"Juan again?" Julie asked.
Gina didn't have to nod.
Julie's pretty hands curled into fists down at her sides. "I told you before. He won't change unless he gets help. And if he won't get help, then you have to be the one."
Gina's voice was meek.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. It's his fault, not yours. But if you continue to stay with him...look...you're scared...he probably threatens you...won't let you have any money...isolates you...makes you feel worthless...tells you it's your fault...always apologizes..."
"How do you know?"
Only I could see the flicker of pain that came, then vanished in a blink, from her eyes.
"It's my job to know. He needs help. You need help."
"He isn't always like this. He doesn't mean it. He just has an anger problem. I drive him to it."
"He knocked your teeth down your throat last time. Almost choked you to-"
Around the corner Juan came, at Julie, his big gnarly claws jerking at the shoulders of her long knitted sweater-"Mind your own business, bitch, or I'll put you in the hospital too-"
He tossed her into the brick wall like she was a toy doll-then MY claw raked across his demented head and he went flying across the street to land on his rear end.
No Isz. No Mr. Gone. Just your garden variety thug out to hurt the most important person in my world doing what she loved to do most in hers.
No need to say anything else to Juan. He got the message. He climbed to his feet and hobbled away on a broken foot.
I put my arm around both girls.
"Maxx," Julie said pretending to be strong, but was unable to hide the tremble in her body as I held her close to my side. "What are you doing here? Don't you think I can take care of myself?"
Well...
"Just going for a loaf of bread," I said. "I got hungry for some toast and jelly."
"Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight."
We looked at Gina, who was following after Juan, no doubt to nurse his wounds after all he had done to her.
Julie took a few steps after her. I pulled her back.
"Let her go," I told her. "You'll be hearing from her again in a couple of weeks."
Julie looked at me, knowing I was right.
"Thanks," she said as she dusted some grit from her sweater. "Now let's go get that bread you were talking about."
We walked down the street arm in arm, her body losing the tremble along the way.
There would be another Gina. Another Juan. And I would be there for Julie. Again.
The End