A continuation of my attempt to finish a book I started in December 2017. Posting chapters in an attempt to organize it all and finish.
The first time I remember ever being homeless was when my parents divorced when I was fourteen. That summer was a blur after my mother sold the house. Like many other times in my life, I only remember pieces.
But I think we stayed at so many different places. Maybe more than I can remember, but I know we were at least at a neighbor’s house across the street for a few days. And then at my maternal grandparents’ house for at least a couple weeks. Maybe at the Allen’s. I know we stayed with the Klassy and Kelley families.
And then also a motel on the outskirts of Temple. I think we were there for only one night. But that was enough.
My brother and I were really excited to go use the motel pool. We grew up swimming all summer so this was a welcome treat in the Texas heat. Also a rare moment of light-hearted joy amidst all the stress of the divorce and moving.
I took my nine-year-old brother with me down to the pool. We were having fun when all of a sudden I felt someone touch me underwater while I was swimming. I immediately knew it was a touch my brother would never give me. So I shot up out of the water. Alarmed.
A grown-ass man, maybe even forty years older than me smirked as I scanned to see who touched me. I hadn’t seen him get in. I thought my brother and I were alone in the pool.
Asshole. His eyes and his smirk communicated that he knew exactly what he did and was thrilled that he got away with it.
I was so mad and disgusted. But I was only a kid. At that time still very small and fit. And this male was much bigger than me – height and weight. I was scared almost out of my mind.
I don’t know how I was able to firmly insist that my brother and I exit the pool immediately. After we had only been there a few minutes. But thankfully he listened to me and I took him as quickly as I could back to the motel room. To hide.
I don’t even think I bothered telling anyone what happened. Church wasn’t the only place where I learned to stay silent. By that point in my life I had already long since given up.
When I was a little bit older. Probably around twenty-one. Still smaller and more fit, I loved to go to Mustang Island and use my boogie board to surf the waves. I could stay out there for hours. I’d tell my friends to call me in if they were ready to leave.
Even made a special trip to surf the beginning of Hurricane Katrina. Before we knew how bad that would be. Those Katrina waves almost killed me. Drove all that way and only stayed out a few minutes before I kept getting dunked so hard that I had to call it.
In any event, one day I went to clear my mind at the beach by myself. It was a busy summer day but I managed to find a spot where I had a few hundred feet free on either side. So I could surf without worrying about fisherman or kids getting in my way.
And I was out there enjoying the waves when I looked back to see a van pull up perpendicular to my vehicle. And very close when there was plenty of beach on either side to give more space. My gut immediately told me there was something wrong about this.
I was concerned that they were going to try to break into my car. I was smart enough to have carried the key on a chain around my neck, stuffed into my swimsuit. But I was so far in the water that I wouldn’t be able to stop them if they started to force their way in.
So I see a guy get out of the van. A really old man. At least in his sixties. And he opens the side door that is facing the ocean. Traffic is driving behind his vehicle. And he is standing there looking at me. Out in the ocean. I can see him smiling. Then he pulls his junk out and begins to jack off.
I was disgusted. I was probably forty years younger than him. And you could tell that he knew exactly what he was doing. He positioned himself in such a way that nobody passing behind or all the way down would see.
And I was stuck out in the water. I couldn’t go in to get to my car and drive away because he was right there. Only steps away from my vehicle. If I moved closer, I’d be exposed to more than was already way too much. So he successfully held me captive in the water.
Of course I turned away and tried to surf in order to act normal so he wouldn’t get off even more than he already was. I was hoping if I acted like I didn’t see then maybe he’d leave faster. And I think eventually that’s what happened. But I still had to quickly glance after I came up out of the water multiple times in order to check to see if he was still there before he finally left.
I hated him. There weren’t many safe places for me in this world. Even less that brought me joy. The beach had been one, but now he had ruined that for me. I would never be able to go again without thinking of what he did. And being scared it would happen again.
Another time I went to the beach near North Padre Island. I parked at the very end where the pilings are setup so you can’t drive down the stretch that is part of the paid section. It was during the off season so there was no other cars or people around.
I had driven down from Austin and just needed to clear my mind. So when I arrived, I locked up the car and set off walking on the part of the beach where the cars were not allowed to drive. I wanted to get to a spot where all I could see was the ocean on either side. So I had walked quite aways until I finally found a spot and sat down near the dunes. Just staring out at the ocean and thinking.
I swear, I wasn’t there maybe five minutes before I looked to my left and saw someone approaching. And to my horror he was completely naked! Except cowboy boots. I could barely believe it.
Maybe he didn’t see me? That’s what I hoped. So I stayed frozen hoping he’d eventually see me without thinking I saw him. And the scamper away like a respectable human being.
But no, this pervert doesn’t stop. This old ass man, again at least forty years my senior, not only walks over to me, but stands directly in front of me as I am sitting in the sand. His junk inches from my face. Laughing. Introducing himself. Asking me questions. As if this shit is normal.
I hate that I was frozen, but I didn’t know how to fight for myself back then. I fawned only to the extent that I was trying to buy time to strategize. But I really didn’t know what to do. I was so far down the beach that I couldn’t see my car. And there was no one around. Not one other human being in sight. Nobody would even hear or see me. This was absolutely terrifying. I remember thinking, “This can’t happen. I can’t go out like this. If this man drags me into the dunes, nobody will ever find me.”
So I played nice. He of course was getting around to soliciting. Trying the jovial nice guy approach first. So I went along with the conversation in order to not too quickly start a fight I wasn’t sure I had a good enough chance of winning.
But eventually I made up an excuse to get up and start walking to my car. Trying not to let my fear betray the fake “nothing is wrong” vibe I was hoping would keep from spooking him into aggressive action.
And he was doing the same but with a different agenda. Who would win?
He wouldn’t give up that easily when I said I needed to leave. Of course not. Not an old male who had the audacity to walk up on and interrupt a fully-clothed barely out of my teens girl on the beach.
No, he was right beside me as I tried to leave. Positioning himself on the water side. Walking towards me, causing me to veer away – closer and closer to the dunes. All while increasing his advances. And not respecting my objections. I was starting to get really scared.
He was trying to get me to go to his “camp”. I was petrified. Even though he was only wearing boots, I was afraid he had a weapon like at least a knife in one of them. I was afraid he’d pull it out and force me into the sand before I could make it back to my car. I remember telling God, “I can’t go out like this, like a bad B-movie.”
In a panic I looked ahead and saw a woman dressed completely in white. With two huge white dogs walking alongside – one on her left and one on her right. Finally – someone! But she was so far away that I wasn’t sure if she could see me. How would I get her attention?
I glanced to my right real quick. To make sure my glance towards the woman ahead hadn’t distracted me so much that I missed the man trying to steal a quick advantage. But to my surprise, his entire demeanor had changed. His face was pale almost as if he had seen a ghost. And he rapidly came up with some lame excuse and dipped off quickly into the dunes by himself. Leaving me alone, thankfully.
I immediately knew everything was going to be okay, but I still walked as fast as I could to get away while I had the chance. I was still several minutes off from reaching the woman with the dogs.
She was walking towards my direction, right up against the dunes. So I moved more towards the ocean in order to give her space. I wanted to tell her what happened and thank her for saving me. But as I came within earshot, she didn’t look at me.
Odd because at this point we are now the only two visible on the beach. It would be like if you were on a random path in the middle of Alaska, passing a stranger in the middle of nowhere, and they didn’t even acknowledge you. But maybe she came there to be alone in her thoughts just like me. So I didn’t want to interrupt that, but I couldn’t in good conscience not warn her of the trap I had just passed. So I called out to her just to say, “Ma’am, there is a naked man back there in the dunes.” She didn’t even look my way or acknowledge me. She kept on walking. I
I was so confused. But I had done what I could do, right? So I kept on towards my car. But I turned around to check on her after many more steps. And she wasn’t anywhere to be seen on the beach. I didn’t think her pace had been that fast. But she wasn’t there. To where did she disappear?
Was she an angel sent just to protect me? To scare that naked man off who probably had plans to hurt me? I don’t think I’ll ever know on this side. And that’s okay. But she certainly saved me that day. I even wonder if she manifested as a woman with two dogs to me, but something more menacing to him – by the look on his face and the way he raced to run off. Something to comfort me and something different to scare him? God could do that – make us each see what we need.
I think of Joseph. Having a dream. Being excited about it. Wanting to include his brothers in the celebration. Not fully realizing how much they resent him. Until they throw him in a pit. Fully intending to kill him. What must Joseph have felt? “Uh, God? This doesn’t at all look like the plan I thought You gave me. Was I wrong?”
Then maybe some hope when his brothers decide to at least spare his life and sell him. “Ok, You’ll rescue me soon, God.” Armed with that dream still very full of possibility. Joseph is determined to believe.
And he does good. Representing his religion well. So much that the boss he’s been sold to is repeatedly giving him promotions. It’s not the outcome Joseph wanted, but at least things are getting more comfortable. Maybe God still needs some more time to arrange His deliverance? Joseph decides to remain patient.
I think his bosses’ wife had been harassing Joseph ever since he arrived. Bored with her husband and life away from the action. Unimpressed with Joseph’s religion – mocking it and him behind his back. Seeing it all as a fun cute little challenge. To get Joseph to fall. To steal his attention while her husband was away providing.
And I think she harrassed Joseph. Threw herself at him constantly. Trying to trap him. But he yearned for home – for the few who loved him. For his community. He didn’t desire his bosses’ wife. He was focused and determined. Even to the point of not having any trouble shutting her down.
Until one day. When she tricks him. Maybe asked him to reach something high on a shelf. And then tried to touch him. Knowing for sure he couldn’t resist natural stimulation.
But Joseph was appalled. He’d never want to hurt his boss this way. He’d never want to encourage the bosses’ wife to be unfaithful. He’d never want to sabotage his chances of getting back home. So he runs away so quickly that the wife is able to steal a piece of his clothing in the process.
And Joseph has faith in his boss. Why wouldn’t he? It was obvious to everyone that the wife was running around. And Joseph had been promoted to the top. Never betrayed his boss. Never run away with the business in order to get back home. Always trusted God, always trusted due process.
But now the wife was even more incensed. It was one thing when she saw it as a game. But Joseph didn’t give in at all – whereas others were so easy that they were no fun. No, Joseph left her standing there looking like a fool. No amount of vanity could override the injury to her pride. Joseph must die. Or at least live a miserable life. So she lies on him with a vengeance.
And her husband puts up with it even though he knows the truth. Because he still thinks his love can save her, he still hasn’t forgiven himself, and he’s so worn down that he doesn’t want to chance her wrath. He knows exactly what she’ll do and he’s not sure he’d make it through. Maybe even if just without hurting her for good.
Joseph didn’t see that coming. He knows his boss is inherently better than that. He’s bitterly disappointed that all his efforts have come to nothing – his boss deposes of him as if he’s noone and has done nothing. All this time.
There Joseph goes back to another pit – this one in prison. But just like before, he makes the best of it. Almost getting to the top again. Thinking now God will finally show up and show off. Redeem him.
But each time someone betrays him. Forgets him. Moves on and leaves him behind to pick up the pieces.
“God, WHERE ARE YOU?!?! This feels like torture! I thought I was Your kid?!?! Every time I think we’re finally getting started, You don’t let me get up. Instead, it feels like you let me fall further down than I ever was before. What the fuck is going on?!?! What about the dreams I thought You gave me? Was I wrong? Do You even exist? Or did I just make it all up!?”
Silence. For a bit.
Sarah Nyhan 
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