Free Antonelli - 03 - The Judgment by D. W. Buffa Page A

normally think of as rape. He never took her by force; he did something far worse. He made her the accomplice of her own destruction. He made her think herself guilty of her own defile-ment. He taught her pleasure. That is how he stole her innocence.
    He made her want what she believed only he could give her. He corrupted her, his own flesh and blood, and so far as I could tell, never gave it a second thought. All the therapy in the world was not going to change it. Everyone in that family was seeing a psychologist—two of them testified at the trial—but they knew nothing about what had really happened to that girl. They droned on forever about ‘dysfunctional relationships,’ and they described the coping mechanisms by which everyone could eventually learn how to adjust to what had happened, but they had nothing to say about the human soul or the evil of incest. Not one word.
    There was madness in all of this; madness in what the father had done; madness in what these self-proclaimed experts in human behavior had done or rather failed to do. I am not a religious man, but I tell you without hesitation that you will find more wisdom in the book of Genesis than in all their scholarly texts.
    The girl had been forced to eat of the tree of knowledge by her own father, forced to leave the Garden of Eden and the unquestioning innocence of childhood. Even worse, she was made to believe that it was her fault, that she was the one who had committed the original sin.
    “She certainly believed that her knowledge of what her father really was made her responsible for what happened to her brother.
    ” ‘Did your father ever do or say anything that made you think he might do something to Gerald?’
    ” ‘He told me that sometimes he’d find himself getting aroused.’
    ” ‘By Gerald?’
    ” ‘Yes.’
    ” ‘And do you remember what you said to him about that?’
    ” ‘I told him if he ever did anything to Gerald, I’d tell mother what he’d been doing with me. He promised he never would.’
    ” ‘Did you believe him?’
    “She did not answer, not directly. ‘I tried to take care of Gerald. I spent a lot of time with him. I took him places, even when my friends didn’t want to have a little kid along. I let him know every way I could that he could talk to me about anything he wanted, that I wasn’t just his sister, but his best friend. I told him that parents didn’t always understand what kids were going through.’
    ” ‘Did Gerald ever say anything that made you think he was doing what he now says he was doing with his mother?’
    ” ‘No, of course not. He told me everything, and he never said anything like this until …’
    ” ‘Until?’
    “She rubbed the corner of her eye, and then, grasping the arms of the chair, sat straight up, her mouth pressed into a rigid straight line. ‘Until he went to live with my father.’ With a thin, bitter smile, she added, ‘My father is very good at seducing children and getting them to believe whatever he wants them to believe.’
    Her eyes moved to her mother, sitting in the chair next to mine, as if she wanted to make sure she was all right. It was the look of a parent checking on a child.
    “Goldman was no fool. Most of his cross-examination was short, to the point, and done with a show of reluctance.
    ” ‘After all the terrible things that have happened, it must be good to know you can count on your mother’s support.’
    “She was too smart. She did not say anything. She watched him, waiting for a question.
    “Goldman flashed an ingratiating smile. ‘You know what it’s like, don’t you? Not being able to tell anyone, even your own mother, about something that has been done to you?’
    “He should have known better, but despite everything he had heard, he still thought he was dealing with someone too young, too inexperienced, to know that questions often have meanings beyond the things they ask.
    ” ‘I couldn’t tell my mother,’ she replied,