Seeds Breeding Distrust

Seeds 

Breeding Distrust

Jill has trust issues.

 “You were starting to say something about your father. Then you did a deep dive. Into your past, I imagine. I’ve been watching you try to work things out. Anything to share?’

Jill decides to keep her thoughts to herself. She guesses Bill may already know Daniel and Joseph’s feelings, but she is not about to confirm them. That part of her history she intends to control. Trusting others can only lead to compromising her strength. Bill’s words, trust me, poke her like finger of guilt.

An uncomfortable feeling seizes Jill. It’s a feeling she experienced when she charged outside of Dave and Greg’s house, a feeling when she hid in the closet at home after hearing her intoxicated father in the living room shouting for her to come out. 

‘Men are dangerous. Don’t trust men.’

I don’t know.” Reluctant to follow Bill’s idea Jill shakes her head slightly.

“It’s worth a try. Trust me.” Seeing Jill’s silence, Bill asks again, “You do trust me?”

Bill’s question opens a wound that Jill tries to ignore. ‘My friend, the one I met in Chicago, the one I trusted, the one who sided with Joseph when Joseph said he wanted to divorce me.’

      In the novel, Baggage burdens., if Bill had suggested to Jill that she needs to work on trusting others, Jill would have respond, “I can’t.”

SEEDS of Jill’s Distrust

What she couldn’t tell Bill is that her father was a liar. He couldn’t be trusted to keep his word. His failure meant pain and fear for Jill.

Jill confronted her drunken father in the kitchen. She dared to challenge his behavior. Result: a neck jarring slap in the face. With pent up fury Jill delivered a similar action.

Her father exploded.

Jill deflected his first swing. More swiftly followed. His first direct hit landed Jill on the floor. Her single opportunity to escape resulted in him grabbing her hair and yanking her back. Sitting on her, he slapped her left and right again and again until Alice struck his head with a cast iron frying pan. 

Police were called again. Warnings were issued. Promises were made. Three weeks passed before Jill’s bruises disappeared, and she could face her classmates.

 “He said he wouldn’t drink anymore!” Jill’s outburst erupts, as she fails to contain her fury. Her mother doesn’t respond. Righteous anger forces the seventeen year old to her feet to face her father.

 “He’d better go downstairs and call his AA buddy.” Jill summons her courage; then advances, intent to demonstrate her conviction and redirect her father downstairs.

Alice scrambles after her angry daughter. “Jill, don’t.”

“Don’t what? That was the deal. He said if he ever comes home drunk again we could tell him he had to call his AA buddy. We could remind him of it. He agreed to that. Remember?” The volume of her voice rises.

Jill advances again toward the top of the stairs planning to meet her father before he reaches the top step. The smoke from the cigarette, which he tossed on the top of the stairs nips at her nostrils. ‘Step on it,’ flashes through her mind. Before she can act, her mother’s objection interrupts.

Jill couldn’t even trust her mother to hold her father to the promises he made.

Dave settles back against the counter, his face bright red. A storm of embarrassment, anger and fear engulfs Jill. She searches for a target to release her overflowing energy.

“How dare you?” explodes Jill glaring at a bewildered Dave.

With the real target of her anger gone, Jill summons other reasons to vent her frustrations at Dave. ‘My home away from home––gone.’ She stares at her betrayer— “You bastard. You said me living here would be no prelude to some kind of relationship.” Her words have no effect on Dave. Jill realizes she’s been deceived. Her phony friend leaning against the cupboard stole the only security she had.

A friend who said all he wanted to do was help her turns out to be a liar too.

Given Jill’s childhood experiences how could she trust anyone?  Without knowing Jill’s past, Bill tries to help Jill learn to trust people. Mission impossible?

Canadian Thistle   infestation

 haiku capsule:

                                                                                 her father’s beatings

                                                              her mother’s help lost in fear: 

    teen years––choking weeds

next blog: Why

I MUST Tell Jill’s Story