Page 120 - Reason To Sing by Kelita Haverland

Reason To Sing

The telephone is another issue. If anyone dares to call our
house after 8 pm, look out! He figures, like him, everyone should
be up at 5 am and in bed when the sun goes down. If he is in bed
and the phone rings, he’ll get on the extension and start cursing
and making threats to my poor friends. On one occasion, a new
boy came to the door and Mike told him he has a shotgun and
was not afraid to use it. Another time the poor youth leader from
my church showed up in cut-off jeans. Did Mike ever let him
have it! He thought it offensive for any boy to come to call on
one of his daughters dressed like that. I just wanted to die.
Mike really likes his Scotch on the rocks. And I guess I’m
learning to like it too. Because when he drinks, he’s more lenient
and likely to allow me to go out. But sometimes, late at night
when he’s had one too many, he comes into my room. He sits on
the edge of my bed and gets all teary, telling me how much he
misses my mother. He tells me how much I remind him of her.
I actually feel a little sorry for him during those rare moments.
However, those feelings stop abruptly when he insists on giving
me a sloppy old man kiss right on the lips! There have been a few
times when his behaviour has become highly inappropriate. He
will tease me about my breasts or about my panties getting wet.
Sick. I cringe just thinking about him looking at me that way.
The man has no filter. A few weeks ago he said to me, “The
only reason I ever adopted you and your sister was because your
mother wanted me to. She didn’t know who else would look
after you when she was gone.” Who says that to a young girl? A
young girl with no parents?
Although he’s never physically harmed us, we live in
perpetual fear that one day he might. I know we have to stay
strong. Especially me. I need to be strong for Vian and for myself.
I have no other choice.

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