Page 3 of Dorchad

“Sixteen is too young to date,” Jack had told Rebecca when she had been invited to a Valentine's Day dance at her school.

After her history teacher had organized a field trip to visit a Civil War fort on Georges Island, Bess had refused to sign the permission slip. “It’s too dangerous. Kids are always falling off those ferries.”

The same thing happened when Rebecca tried to sign up for driver’s ed. Her grandparents didn’t want her to have a driver’s license until after she graduated high school. Then when she began college, her grandfather had insisted she still live at home.

“We’ll sleep better knowing you’re here, Becky,” Bess would say.

As a naturally shy person Rebecca already had difficulties with making friends, but her grandparents’ over-protectiveness had been like a prison. Ultimately she’d had no social life, no friends, and never did any of the fun things that other girls her age did.

“You’ll have time for boys later,” her grandfather assured her when she’d tried once to talk to him about dating. “Now you should just think about your studies.”

Although Rebecca wanted to make Bess and Jack happy, she also wanted to escape the smothering limits of the solitary confinement of their rules. She had finally managed to secretly date a fellow medical student when she began her doctorate program, as she could explain the extra time she spent away from home as working on her thesis. He’d had a tiny studio apartment where they could be alone, but the relationship had proven awkward. Thanks to her isolation growing up, Rebecca didn’t drink, smoke weed or have any experience with sex, which for her turned out to be rather boring. Constantly cutting short their time together in order to get home by a reasonable hour didn’t make her boyfriend happy, either.

“No wonder you were still cherry when we first met,” he said the day he broke up with her. “How old do your folks think you are, twelve?”

As it happened, their relationship hadn’t suited Rebecca, either, so she didn’t bother explaining the circumstances at home to him. To her grandparents she likely would always be that battered, broken child they’d seen in the hospital after the car accident. If she wanted a lover, she probably would have to wait until she finished her postgraduate studies, when Bess and Scott had planned to move to Florida. She’d just never met anyone who attracted her since then, and her young and innocent looks didn’t appeal to men. She also wanted more than just a nice, safe relationship, but that also seemed unlikely.

There’s nothing wrong with you, Reuben had assured her when she’d confided in him. You’ve just got something that other girls will never have. Be careful who you tell, don’t rush it, and someday you’ll meet a guy who understands.

Back when she had first met him, Rebecca had been very confused. That day they had taken her to a huge room filled with odd-looking workout equipment. The big, dark man who had walked up and greeted her looked like a gangster with his bald head and gauges filling the big holes in his ear lobes. He also had two fingers missing on his right hand and walked with a noticeable limp.

“Hi, Ms. McIan. I’m Reuben Dane, your therapist.” He shook her hand like she was an adult before he wheeled her over to an odd-looking padded bench. “We’re going to work on stretching and strengthening the muscles in your legs and back before we tackle teaching you to walk again. It’s going to hurt, but in a good way.”

“How can hurting be good?” she had to ask.

“I went through something like you a long time ago.” Reuben pulled up his pant leg to reveal one of his calves was just a steel bar. “Not everyone gets to keep their legs, either, Becs. Pain means you’re getting better. Pain’s your friend.”

At first the exercises hurt so much Rebecca thought she’d start crying halfway through the session. The fear that something would hurt before it actually did kept her on high alert. Yet as she looked up at the bald man, the other thing happened, too: a strange sensation welled up from her belly and made the place between her legs go all hot and tingly. After her sessions Reuben would give her a big hug, which made her shivery and achy. She started to crave those hugs, and all the work she put in to earn them, too.

Pain was her friend, and Reuben was her friend. Maybe it was okay to be like this; she wasn’t hurting anyone else.

Bess and Jack McIan would have been shocked and horrified if she’d even hinted about her strange experiences. They still thought of her as a little girl. She hadn’t grown close to any of the nurses on her floor, either, so she couldn’t confide in them. The only person she truly trusted was Reuben, who had already assured her that anything they talked about would go no further.

After a long time Rebecca asked him to take her for a walk outside after her session, and then nervously confided in him about what she’d been experiencing without mentioning specific details. Reuben listened seriously to what she said, and then asked her if she wanted to talk to a doctor who could help her understand what she was going through.

“Do I have to?” she asked. “I’m not upset or sad like I was after the accident. I just want to understand why I’m like this.”

“Then you have to be careful who you tell about this, Becs,” he told her. “Not everyone understands we’re wired different from them.”

That startled her. “You’re the same way?”

“Let’s just say yeah, kinda.” He smiled. “At first I didn’t understand what was happening to me, either. Then a friend explained it to me, and it made sense.”

“Your girlfriend?” she couldn’t help asking.

Reuben laughed. “No, honey, my boyfriend. I’m gay.”

“Oh.” That almost crushed her to know, but at the same time it also gave her a little relief. She wanted to wait until she was better before she had her first love, and her therapist could never be that. “So what should I do about it? Nothing?”

“Keep learning more about yourself and your sexuality,” he suggested. “Books are a good place to start, especially if you want to learn more about people like us and how we live. Pay attention to what your body is telling you. When you get older, you can look for someone who understands you and what you like. Like my boyfriend understands me.”

That comforted her, but also made her a little unhappy. “If that’s how it is for people like us, then am I going to be like this for the rest of my life?”

“I can’t tell you that.” He rubbed his hand over her curls. “Just be careful, Becs. It would be easy for someone to take advantage of you, so it has to stay secret, something you don’t even mention to your grandparents or friends. If you ever need to talk about it again, come and see me, okay?”

After that talk Rebecca decided that her sexuality would be something she’d talk about only with her true love someday. She kept researching and learned more about pain, desire, and how they meshed for people like her. She came to understand that many forms of self-denial and struggle aroused her slowly, and ultimately gave her a sense of power when she rewarded herself with something she desired.

Rebecca knew she’d never meet anyone who would suit her unless she started dating again. Now that Scott and Bess had left Boston she could at least try to find like-minded possibilities.