Poem: "Scraps"
Jun. 24th, 2020 04:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ysabetwordsmithThis poem is spillover from the February 4, 2020 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by prompts from technoshaman, readera, and shadowdreamer. It also fills the "Helplessness" square in my 2-1-20 card for the Valentines Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by Anthony & Shirley Barrette. It belongs to the Shiv thread of the Polychrome Heroics series.
WARNING: This poem includes intense and controversial topics that may disturb many readers. Highlight to read the warnings, some of which are spoilers and possibly also triggers. It contains the inside of Shiv's head which is always a warning, anxiety, poor self-image, hiding, personality and superpower clash, discomfort with courtesies, vulgar language, past religious abuse, past sexual abuse, pedophile priests, basement aversion, homelessness, foster care, sensory flashbacks, and using beer to quash them, reference to past underage drinking, reference to past genital injuries (for cause), and minor medical details from same, things that can't actually be fixed, attachment damage, feeling helpless and lost and alone, priests with protection from punishment, and other mayhem. Survivors of sexual and/or religious abuse may want to think twice about this one. If these are sensitive issues for you, please consider your tastes and headspace before reading onward. This is a significant plot point, but it's really just details about stuff that's already been discussed in more general terms.
"Scraps"
[Thursday, September 10, 2015]
Shiv jittered around his apartment,
waiting for the call to come through.
He still hadn't gotten used to this shit.
He also hadn't told Aidan to fuck off,
because while they couldn't stand
each other in person, Shiv had learned
that Aidan was about as useful as Dr. G
when it came to fixing fuckups, and that
was an advantage he couldn't afford
to piss away for no good reason.
Shiv wouldn't talk to Aidan
without a spotter, even over
the computer, but he talked.
When his laptop chimed,
Shiv made himself sit down
at the table, watching as
the screen split in two.
"Good morning, Shiv,"
the two men chorused.
"Hey," he said, eyeing
them through his fringe.
It made him feel safer.
"Are you looking forward
to the wedding?" Aidan said.
"Yeah, I'm good," Shiv said.
"Tolli and Simon are teaching me
adaptive dance. It's pretty cool."
"That sounds fun," Aidan said.
He wouldn't be at the wedding,
of course, because of Shiv --
it would be too hard to avoid
each other in all the activities.
That gave Shiv a squirmy feeling,
so he twisted away from it.
"Had fun working on murals,
too, and the new thing is
catching on," Shiv said.
"I call it Slash That Shit."
"Halley rented all the billboards
that Duke University usually uses,
and hired Shiv to redecorate them,"
Dr. G explained. "It's very entertaining."
"I'd love to see pictures," Aidan said.
"It's good to settle past wrongs,
one way or another way."
And that was the hell of it.
Aidan was determined
to dig into Shiv's past and
pry out all the awful people
who had hurt him before.
It was about as fun as
someone picking splinters
out of his skin with a pin, but ...
Shiv didn't owe 'em nothin'
and as long as he didn't have
to rat them out exactly, then
he didn't give a fuck what
happened to them later.
After the way that Aidan ran
A. A. Hole through a grinder,
Shiv was tempted to let him
have another go. Maybe.
"So what did you want
to talk about?" Shiv said.
"We were following up on
some of the church connections
from earlier," Aidan said, "and we
wondered if you could add anything."
"I hate church," Shiv grumbled.
"It's boring and stupid and --
and the priests are all fuckers."
Dr. G's eyebrows went up.
"Figuratively or literally?"
"Both." Shiv glared at him.
"I'm listening," they said
at the same time, and then
Aidan added, "Could you
give us a name, or names?"
He always asked, and Shiv
shook his head so his fringe
flopped. "Fuck no," he said.
"Okay, no names," Dr. G said,
patting the air with his hands.
"Maybe something about
the church you attended?"
"Was a bunch of 'em,"
Shiv said, looking away.
"But the worst was ... what'd
they call it, St. Maria's. It's
here in Omaha somewhere."
"That will help us find it,"
Dr. G said. "So was this
a nice church, or run down?"
"Not new, a little tatty inside,
but not a shithole," said Shiv.
"Upstairs was nicer, it had
carpet. The basement was
mostly tile, or concrete,
except for the classrooms."
"The basement was tile,
and you didn't like it?"
Dr. G said. "What else
was in the basement
besides classrooms?"
"Cafeteria, nursery ...
they had, um, this closet
cleared out with just a bench
in it, for a seclusion room,"
Shiv said. "The other side of
the cafeteria had a utility room."
His throat was drying out,
voice starting to squeak.
"And those were places
you didn't like?" Dr. G said.
"It sounds as if the utility room
and the seclusion room
both bothered you."
"Yeah, some things
happened -- the priest
used to come in there and --
anywhere in the basement
is bad, really," Shiv said,
shuddering. "Basements
are always bad news."
"I'm sorry to hear that
you've had bad experiences
in basements," Dr. G said.
"Story of my life." Shiv shrugged.
His stomach flipped over,
churning with memories.
Time to change the topic.
"Upstairs they had like offices
and stuff. The priest kept
all kinds of religious crap
in his," Shiv said. "There
was a loft over the part
where they had services,
and confessionals in back.
I hate being on my knees!"
"That's fine," Aidan said.
"Not all religions even do it."
Shiv's legs bounced in place,
just reminding him that he
wasn't on his knees right now.
"Hard to get away from, though,
when you're right there," Shiv said.
"It's all clumped together -- the priest
lived to one side of the church and
the homeless shelter was on the other.
I got stuck in there for a while with
this one family and it sucked."
"The homeless shelter or
the family?" Aidan said.
Shiv snorted. "Both,"
he said. "They crammed
all of us in one room, but I
guess it could've been worse.
Single people got shoved in
the basement, all together."
"Did anyone bother you at
the shelter?" Aidan asked.
"Nah, just at church," Shiv said.
"The shelter was too busy, but
the church had quieter places
that people could sneak off to."
The churning was worse, now,
he could smell the mildew in
the utility room, and taste --
Shiv jumped up from the table
and grabbed a beer, swishing
his mouth before he swallowed.
The familiar flavor helped
to chase away the ghosts.
Shiv paced the kitchen
for a little bit, trying and
failing to settle his nerves.
He knew that Dr. G and Aidan
wouldn't hang up on him.
They had insisted that it was
okay if he needed to move around,
they would always wait for him.
Shiv sat back down, bottle
swinging from his hand,
and Dr. G frowned at it.
"I need it, okay?" Shiv said.
"I didn't try beer 'til I was twelve."
"Ah," Dr. G said, although
now he looked some other
sort of unhappy that Shiv
couldn't quite pin down.
"It's an anchor for you."
"Yeah, yeah," Shiv said.
"It helps me remember
when and where I am.
Because it wasn't there."
"Do you need to stop?"
Dr. G asks. "We can."
"You've given us enough
to start looking, and if I
get close to that priest, I'll
know for sure," Aidan said.
Shiv was tempted to split,
but there's something about
talking that felt like picking
a scab. It hurt, but once he
started, it's hard to stop doing it.
"I can, I can keep going," he said.
"You fixed A.A. Hole, fixed him good.
Be nice if that priest got his too."
"Do you know if he's still there?"
Dr. G asked. "How old was
the priest when you knew him?"
"He seemed old at the time,
but then all the grownups did,"
Shiv said. "I was really little,
I don't know, four or five maybe?
"Did he look like the parents
of other children, or more like
their grandparents?" Aidan said.
"Parents, I think," Shiv said.
"He looked tall and thin. He had
dark hair, not a lot of wrinkles. I
remember his hands were smooth,
'cause one time he picked me up
and put me on his lap a while."
Aidan growled. Dr. G said
something in maybe Irish
that sounded pretty bad.
"It wasn't that big a deal,"
Shiv said. "I mean if he'd
stuck with just that, then
I could've put up with it."
"You should not have to,"
Aidan said. "Nobody should!
"I will make certain that he
never comes near you again."
Aidan really was like a sheepdog,
herding people away from danger,
then turning to face it with a snarl.
That priest was definitely a wolf,
and Shiv couldn't help imagining him
with Aidan's teeth in his backside.
It made him snicker a little.
"I'll look into the church and
its history, see if I can identify
who worked there fifteen or
sixteen years ago," said Dr. G.
"Zipper and I can check it out first,
while you're putting the police on
the trail," Aidan said. "I'll know if
anything is still going on, and I can
make sure nobody else gets hurt
before the wheels of justice turn."
Shiv just snorted. He didn't give
a fuck about the justice system,
because it hadn't given him justice.
"I hope his thing falls off and he
goes to hell forever and ever."
He wasn't sure what to call
the noises that they made, but
he was sure he didn't ever
want those aimed at him.
Dr. G and Aidan were
scary when they got angry.
Then Dr. G waved his hands and
said, "I'm sorry, Shiv, we didn't
mean to make you uneasy."
"I'm fine," Shiv lied, even though
goosebumps crept over his skin.
He just wanted to get through this.
"Take a moment to breathe and
find your center," Aidan said. "Then
you can tell us more if you wish."
Shiv wasn't sure what 'center'
he meant, because sometimes
Aidan's advice was just batty,
but he understood breathing.
There was nobody to lean against,
so Shiv just pushed against the back
of his chair and tried to remember what
Ambrose had felt like as a backrest.
That helped settle him a little bit, so
his skin stopped crawling around.
"Given your awful experiences in
church, it's no wonder that you don't
like religion much," said Dr. G.
"It wasn't all bad, though," Shiv said.
"That's where Gigi taught me about biting.
I got moved before I could try it there,
but I did it to the next guy and
he screamed like a girl!"
"And well he deserved it,"
Aidan said with a fierce glare.
"They said he had to get stitches
down there," Shiv said, sniggering
at the memory. "They put me in
a group home for it, and that
stunk, but it was so worth it."
"We'll check your next placement
after the church," Dr. G promised.
"Yeah, that's -- you can do that,"
Shiv said. It wasn't really ratting
if he hadn't given them a name.
"We want you to be safe," Aidan said.
"We want to make everyone safe."
Shiv shook his head. "Yeah, no,"
he said. "You can't -- I mean,
some of this I look back on and
laugh, like the people I bit,
but some of it's never going
to be anything but awful.
You can't ever fix that."
He could see Aidan
biting his lip at that,
because Shiv has
learned that Aidan
can fix things like that,
sometimes, for other folks.
They're not compatible, though,
their superpowers hate each other.
Shiv had no wish for another
gravel and cream sandwich, ever.
It must suck for Aidan, though,
listening to this and knowing that
it's something he could patch up
if they weren't so -- so themselves.
"We can't fix it, but we can help you
work through it so it doesn't keep
hurting you," Dr. G said. "We can
make sure that the people who
hurt you can't hurt anyone else."
Shiv flinched, not wanting to think
about how vulnerable he'd been
back then, how helpless.
He hadn't been that way
for years now, but talking
about it brought it all back,
made his skin crawl with
the certainty that someone
would grab him and hurt him.
"Even without being able to fix it
directly, there are things you can do
to pick it apart and deal with one thread
at a time," Aidan said. "I can talk you
through that, if you want me to."
"It's not the same for me, I don't want
to be part of that group," Shiv said.
"I'm not a joiner, I've always been
an outsider and I like it that way."
He'd fallen into gangs by chance
more than choice, and hadn't really
cared about any of them until he met
Boss White of the Ebonies & Ivories.
He still wasn't sure what to do about
getting rolled into Clan Finn, but that
was a whole different kettle of fish.
"Nobody decent would want to belong
to that church, and it's fine if you don't
want a different one," Aidan said.
"I'm wondering how you feel about
your connections with other people,
though, because that can be
affected by things like this."
"I have, um ... they said it
different before but Dr. G
said they got it wrong,"
Shiv muttered, trying
to recall the phrases.
"Attachment damage, not
Reactive Attachment Disorder,"
Dr. G explained. "There's nothing
wrong with you; it was the adults
who failed to meet your needs, which
now makes it hard for you to connect."
"Yeah, that's it," Shiv said, looking at
Aidan. "I see how you get with people,
you're all --" He hooked his hands
together. "-- and I'm not, I never was."
"I'm listening," Aidan assured him.
"It's not about trying to make you like me,
it's about trying to make you like you,
in a way that feels right and good,
not tangled up like you feel now.
If you can tell me more about who
you are, or who you want to be,
hopefully I can help you with that."
"Then why do I have to keep talking
about -- about basements?" Shiv wailed.
"That's not what I want, I never wanted it!"
"Of course you didn't, nobody wants
to get hurt like that," Aidan said.
"It just helps to know how things got
broken in the first place before you
try to put them together the right way."
Shiv got up and started pacing again.
"Here, let me just -- it's easier
to show you than tell you."
He burrowed into a closet
where he kept his therapy things.
Leafing through a binder, he
took out a folder full of pages.
"This is -- this is it," he said as
he spread them out on the table,
using his smartphone to take a video
that he sent live to Dr. G and Aidan.
"It's a collage," Shiv said. "If I match
the edges, it's pretty big now, almost
covers the table. But it's just scraps.
Many little scraps of paper, things I've
ripped out of magazines or newspapers,
old worksheets, things I've drawn. Trash."
His hands messed around in it even now,
restless, stirring the loose pieces of stuff that
he hadn't gotten around to gluing down.
One of the rectangles had a suggestion
of a black cassock, another a gold cross,
while a third held a stiff Roman collar.
A snatch of bright color proved to be
a broken window in a church, the saint
headless where a rock had gone through.
In the next panel, a Christmas tree burned.
Yet there were quiet pieces, too, like
the people standing in rows to sing
and a picture of a children's group
enjoying some Bible-themed snacks.
"This is all -- it's confusion, it's chaos,"
Shiv said. "In its variety, it shows
the world messed up, like I am.
Everything is mixed around and
nothing makes any sense."
His hand found one of the bits
that he'd meant to add, a picture
of a child hiding from a priest,
the paper wrinkled from being
crumpled and then flattened out,
its inner edge frayed where he'd
torn it loose from a magazine.
"That's what we were to him,"
Shiv said, his fingernails dragging
over the paper. "Scraps. He'd
just use us and throw us away."
A flake of paper fluttered at
the corner. Angry, he yanked it
off and swept it onto the floor.
Droplets of water splashed onto
the picture, making the ink run.
"I hate this," Shiv said. "I hate it.
Every time I look at it, it's like I can
feel all the pain and suffering again,
mine and everyone else's. Wasn't
just me, not that anyone cared."
"I care," Dr. G and Aidan chorused.
The sound startled Shiv. He had
almost forgotten that they were
watching, listening, but they
were still there for him.
"It sounds like you get it,
really get it, and that's rare,
Shiv, even for someone with
a lot more therapy than you've
had," Dr. G went on. "You have
a deeper understanding than
usual, even if you show it in
pictures instead of words."
"I hate this," Shiv said again,
shuddering. "It makes me feel
helpless all over again. I just
feel so fucking lost and alone."
"You're not helpless anymore,"
Dr. G said. "You're quite powerful
now, and use your abilities with
great precision. I'm impressed
with how you have handled them."
"You're not alone either," Aidan said.
"We're here for you. So are Tolli and
Simon. You can fight back, but you
don't have to do it alone. You have
people who will fight with you."
"And what if I don't want to fight?"
Shiv snarled, shoving the pages
back in their folder, not caring if he
bent them. They'd been bent before.
"What if I want to walk away and
forget this shit ever happened?"
"It's not so easy to forget, but if
you don't want to fight, that's okay,"
Dr. G said. "You have people
who will fight for you. All you
have to do is say the word."
It was a nice thought,
to sit back and just let
somebody else deal with
this shit, maybe find the priest
and kick him in crotch a bit.
Shiv swallowed, his throat
scratchy. "Okay. Do it."
"Thank you," Dr. G said,
sounding like Shiv had given
him a treasure instead of
a buttload of trouble. "I'll get
right on this from my end."
"Zipper and I will look into it
as well," said Aidan. "I'll know
what horrors he's hiding, and that
should give us an idea where
to search for further proof."
"Just, you know ... be careful,"
Shiv said, looking aside. "He's
got some kind of protection, not
the gang kind or Boss White would
know and he don't hold with that shit.
Important people stuff, I guess."
"We'll be very careful," Aidan said.
"Zipper can jump us out in an instant
if anything goes seriously wrong."
"Okay," Shiv said. "Okay."
It really wasn't, and neither
was he ... but he was starting
to hope that it might be.
Someday.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its notes appear elsewhere.
technoshaman, readera, and shadowdreamer. It also fills the "Helplessness" square in my 2-1-20 card for the Valentines Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by Anthony & Shirley Barrette. It belongs to the Shiv thread of the Polychrome Heroics series.WARNING: This poem includes intense and controversial topics that may disturb many readers. Highlight to read the warnings, some of which are spoilers and possibly also triggers. It contains the inside of Shiv's head which is always a warning, anxiety, poor self-image, hiding, personality and superpower clash, discomfort with courtesies, vulgar language, past religious abuse, past sexual abuse, pedophile priests, basement aversion, homelessness, foster care, sensory flashbacks, and using beer to quash them, reference to past underage drinking, reference to past genital injuries (for cause), and minor medical details from same, things that can't actually be fixed, attachment damage, feeling helpless and lost and alone, priests with protection from punishment, and other mayhem. Survivors of sexual and/or religious abuse may want to think twice about this one. If these are sensitive issues for you, please consider your tastes and headspace before reading onward. This is a significant plot point, but it's really just details about stuff that's already been discussed in more general terms.
"Scraps"
[Thursday, September 10, 2015]
Shiv jittered around his apartment,
waiting for the call to come through.
He still hadn't gotten used to this shit.
He also hadn't told Aidan to fuck off,
because while they couldn't stand
each other in person, Shiv had learned
that Aidan was about as useful as Dr. G
when it came to fixing fuckups, and that
was an advantage he couldn't afford
to piss away for no good reason.
Shiv wouldn't talk to Aidan
without a spotter, even over
the computer, but he talked.
When his laptop chimed,
Shiv made himself sit down
at the table, watching as
the screen split in two.
"Good morning, Shiv,"
the two men chorused.
"Hey," he said, eyeing
them through his fringe.
It made him feel safer.
"Are you looking forward
to the wedding?" Aidan said.
"Yeah, I'm good," Shiv said.
"Tolli and Simon are teaching me
adaptive dance. It's pretty cool."
"That sounds fun," Aidan said.
He wouldn't be at the wedding,
of course, because of Shiv --
it would be too hard to avoid
each other in all the activities.
That gave Shiv a squirmy feeling,
so he twisted away from it.
"Had fun working on murals,
too, and the new thing is
catching on," Shiv said.
"I call it Slash That Shit."
"Halley rented all the billboards
that Duke University usually uses,
and hired Shiv to redecorate them,"
Dr. G explained. "It's very entertaining."
"I'd love to see pictures," Aidan said.
"It's good to settle past wrongs,
one way or another way."
And that was the hell of it.
Aidan was determined
to dig into Shiv's past and
pry out all the awful people
who had hurt him before.
It was about as fun as
someone picking splinters
out of his skin with a pin, but ...
Shiv didn't owe 'em nothin'
and as long as he didn't have
to rat them out exactly, then
he didn't give a fuck what
happened to them later.
After the way that Aidan ran
A. A. Hole through a grinder,
Shiv was tempted to let him
have another go. Maybe.
"So what did you want
to talk about?" Shiv said.
"We were following up on
some of the church connections
from earlier," Aidan said, "and we
wondered if you could add anything."
"I hate church," Shiv grumbled.
"It's boring and stupid and --
and the priests are all fuckers."
Dr. G's eyebrows went up.
"Figuratively or literally?"
"Both." Shiv glared at him.
"I'm listening," they said
at the same time, and then
Aidan added, "Could you
give us a name, or names?"
He always asked, and Shiv
shook his head so his fringe
flopped. "Fuck no," he said.
"Okay, no names," Dr. G said,
patting the air with his hands.
"Maybe something about
the church you attended?"
"Was a bunch of 'em,"
Shiv said, looking away.
"But the worst was ... what'd
they call it, St. Maria's. It's
here in Omaha somewhere."
"That will help us find it,"
Dr. G said. "So was this
a nice church, or run down?"
"Not new, a little tatty inside,
but not a shithole," said Shiv.
"Upstairs was nicer, it had
carpet. The basement was
mostly tile, or concrete,
except for the classrooms."
"The basement was tile,
and you didn't like it?"
Dr. G said. "What else
was in the basement
besides classrooms?"
"Cafeteria, nursery ...
they had, um, this closet
cleared out with just a bench
in it, for a seclusion room,"
Shiv said. "The other side of
the cafeteria had a utility room."
His throat was drying out,
voice starting to squeak.
"And those were places
you didn't like?" Dr. G said.
"It sounds as if the utility room
and the seclusion room
both bothered you."
"Yeah, some things
happened -- the priest
used to come in there and --
anywhere in the basement
is bad, really," Shiv said,
shuddering. "Basements
are always bad news."
"I'm sorry to hear that
you've had bad experiences
in basements," Dr. G said.
"Story of my life." Shiv shrugged.
His stomach flipped over,
churning with memories.
Time to change the topic.
"Upstairs they had like offices
and stuff. The priest kept
all kinds of religious crap
in his," Shiv said. "There
was a loft over the part
where they had services,
and confessionals in back.
I hate being on my knees!"
"That's fine," Aidan said.
"Not all religions even do it."
Shiv's legs bounced in place,
just reminding him that he
wasn't on his knees right now.
"Hard to get away from, though,
when you're right there," Shiv said.
"It's all clumped together -- the priest
lived to one side of the church and
the homeless shelter was on the other.
I got stuck in there for a while with
this one family and it sucked."
"The homeless shelter or
the family?" Aidan said.
Shiv snorted. "Both,"
he said. "They crammed
all of us in one room, but I
guess it could've been worse.
Single people got shoved in
the basement, all together."
"Did anyone bother you at
the shelter?" Aidan asked.
"Nah, just at church," Shiv said.
"The shelter was too busy, but
the church had quieter places
that people could sneak off to."
The churning was worse, now,
he could smell the mildew in
the utility room, and taste --
Shiv jumped up from the table
and grabbed a beer, swishing
his mouth before he swallowed.
The familiar flavor helped
to chase away the ghosts.
Shiv paced the kitchen
for a little bit, trying and
failing to settle his nerves.
He knew that Dr. G and Aidan
wouldn't hang up on him.
They had insisted that it was
okay if he needed to move around,
they would always wait for him.
Shiv sat back down, bottle
swinging from his hand,
and Dr. G frowned at it.
"I need it, okay?" Shiv said.
"I didn't try beer 'til I was twelve."
"Ah," Dr. G said, although
now he looked some other
sort of unhappy that Shiv
couldn't quite pin down.
"It's an anchor for you."
"Yeah, yeah," Shiv said.
"It helps me remember
when and where I am.
Because it wasn't there."
"Do you need to stop?"
Dr. G asks. "We can."
"You've given us enough
to start looking, and if I
get close to that priest, I'll
know for sure," Aidan said.
Shiv was tempted to split,
but there's something about
talking that felt like picking
a scab. It hurt, but once he
started, it's hard to stop doing it.
"I can, I can keep going," he said.
"You fixed A.A. Hole, fixed him good.
Be nice if that priest got his too."
"Do you know if he's still there?"
Dr. G asked. "How old was
the priest when you knew him?"
"He seemed old at the time,
but then all the grownups did,"
Shiv said. "I was really little,
I don't know, four or five maybe?
"Did he look like the parents
of other children, or more like
their grandparents?" Aidan said.
"Parents, I think," Shiv said.
"He looked tall and thin. He had
dark hair, not a lot of wrinkles. I
remember his hands were smooth,
'cause one time he picked me up
and put me on his lap a while."
Aidan growled. Dr. G said
something in maybe Irish
that sounded pretty bad.
"It wasn't that big a deal,"
Shiv said. "I mean if he'd
stuck with just that, then
I could've put up with it."
"You should not have to,"
Aidan said. "Nobody should!
"I will make certain that he
never comes near you again."
Aidan really was like a sheepdog,
herding people away from danger,
then turning to face it with a snarl.
That priest was definitely a wolf,
and Shiv couldn't help imagining him
with Aidan's teeth in his backside.
It made him snicker a little.
"I'll look into the church and
its history, see if I can identify
who worked there fifteen or
sixteen years ago," said Dr. G.
"Zipper and I can check it out first,
while you're putting the police on
the trail," Aidan said. "I'll know if
anything is still going on, and I can
make sure nobody else gets hurt
before the wheels of justice turn."
Shiv just snorted. He didn't give
a fuck about the justice system,
because it hadn't given him justice.
"I hope his thing falls off and he
goes to hell forever and ever."
He wasn't sure what to call
the noises that they made, but
he was sure he didn't ever
want those aimed at him.
Dr. G and Aidan were
scary when they got angry.
Then Dr. G waved his hands and
said, "I'm sorry, Shiv, we didn't
mean to make you uneasy."
"I'm fine," Shiv lied, even though
goosebumps crept over his skin.
He just wanted to get through this.
"Take a moment to breathe and
find your center," Aidan said. "Then
you can tell us more if you wish."
Shiv wasn't sure what 'center'
he meant, because sometimes
Aidan's advice was just batty,
but he understood breathing.
There was nobody to lean against,
so Shiv just pushed against the back
of his chair and tried to remember what
Ambrose had felt like as a backrest.
That helped settle him a little bit, so
his skin stopped crawling around.
"Given your awful experiences in
church, it's no wonder that you don't
like religion much," said Dr. G.
"It wasn't all bad, though," Shiv said.
"That's where Gigi taught me about biting.
I got moved before I could try it there,
but I did it to the next guy and
he screamed like a girl!"
"And well he deserved it,"
Aidan said with a fierce glare.
"They said he had to get stitches
down there," Shiv said, sniggering
at the memory. "They put me in
a group home for it, and that
stunk, but it was so worth it."
"We'll check your next placement
after the church," Dr. G promised.
"Yeah, that's -- you can do that,"
Shiv said. It wasn't really ratting
if he hadn't given them a name.
"We want you to be safe," Aidan said.
"We want to make everyone safe."
Shiv shook his head. "Yeah, no,"
he said. "You can't -- I mean,
some of this I look back on and
laugh, like the people I bit,
but some of it's never going
to be anything but awful.
You can't ever fix that."
He could see Aidan
biting his lip at that,
because Shiv has
learned that Aidan
can fix things like that,
sometimes, for other folks.
They're not compatible, though,
their superpowers hate each other.
Shiv had no wish for another
gravel and cream sandwich, ever.
It must suck for Aidan, though,
listening to this and knowing that
it's something he could patch up
if they weren't so -- so themselves.
"We can't fix it, but we can help you
work through it so it doesn't keep
hurting you," Dr. G said. "We can
make sure that the people who
hurt you can't hurt anyone else."
Shiv flinched, not wanting to think
about how vulnerable he'd been
back then, how helpless.
He hadn't been that way
for years now, but talking
about it brought it all back,
made his skin crawl with
the certainty that someone
would grab him and hurt him.
"Even without being able to fix it
directly, there are things you can do
to pick it apart and deal with one thread
at a time," Aidan said. "I can talk you
through that, if you want me to."
"It's not the same for me, I don't want
to be part of that group," Shiv said.
"I'm not a joiner, I've always been
an outsider and I like it that way."
He'd fallen into gangs by chance
more than choice, and hadn't really
cared about any of them until he met
Boss White of the Ebonies & Ivories.
He still wasn't sure what to do about
getting rolled into Clan Finn, but that
was a whole different kettle of fish.
"Nobody decent would want to belong
to that church, and it's fine if you don't
want a different one," Aidan said.
"I'm wondering how you feel about
your connections with other people,
though, because that can be
affected by things like this."
"I have, um ... they said it
different before but Dr. G
said they got it wrong,"
Shiv muttered, trying
to recall the phrases.
"Attachment damage, not
Reactive Attachment Disorder,"
Dr. G explained. "There's nothing
wrong with you; it was the adults
who failed to meet your needs, which
now makes it hard for you to connect."
"Yeah, that's it," Shiv said, looking at
Aidan. "I see how you get with people,
you're all --" He hooked his hands
together. "-- and I'm not, I never was."
"I'm listening," Aidan assured him.
"It's not about trying to make you like me,
it's about trying to make you like you,
in a way that feels right and good,
not tangled up like you feel now.
If you can tell me more about who
you are, or who you want to be,
hopefully I can help you with that."
"Then why do I have to keep talking
about -- about basements?" Shiv wailed.
"That's not what I want, I never wanted it!"
"Of course you didn't, nobody wants
to get hurt like that," Aidan said.
"It just helps to know how things got
broken in the first place before you
try to put them together the right way."
Shiv got up and started pacing again.
"Here, let me just -- it's easier
to show you than tell you."
He burrowed into a closet
where he kept his therapy things.
Leafing through a binder, he
took out a folder full of pages.
"This is -- this is it," he said as
he spread them out on the table,
using his smartphone to take a video
that he sent live to Dr. G and Aidan.
"It's a collage," Shiv said. "If I match
the edges, it's pretty big now, almost
covers the table. But it's just scraps.
Many little scraps of paper, things I've
ripped out of magazines or newspapers,
old worksheets, things I've drawn. Trash."
His hands messed around in it even now,
restless, stirring the loose pieces of stuff that
he hadn't gotten around to gluing down.
One of the rectangles had a suggestion
of a black cassock, another a gold cross,
while a third held a stiff Roman collar.
A snatch of bright color proved to be
a broken window in a church, the saint
headless where a rock had gone through.
In the next panel, a Christmas tree burned.
Yet there were quiet pieces, too, like
the people standing in rows to sing
and a picture of a children's group
enjoying some Bible-themed snacks.
"This is all -- it's confusion, it's chaos,"
Shiv said. "In its variety, it shows
the world messed up, like I am.
Everything is mixed around and
nothing makes any sense."
His hand found one of the bits
that he'd meant to add, a picture
of a child hiding from a priest,
the paper wrinkled from being
crumpled and then flattened out,
its inner edge frayed where he'd
torn it loose from a magazine.
"That's what we were to him,"
Shiv said, his fingernails dragging
over the paper. "Scraps. He'd
just use us and throw us away."
A flake of paper fluttered at
the corner. Angry, he yanked it
off and swept it onto the floor.
Droplets of water splashed onto
the picture, making the ink run.
"I hate this," Shiv said. "I hate it.
Every time I look at it, it's like I can
feel all the pain and suffering again,
mine and everyone else's. Wasn't
just me, not that anyone cared."
"I care," Dr. G and Aidan chorused.
The sound startled Shiv. He had
almost forgotten that they were
watching, listening, but they
were still there for him.
"It sounds like you get it,
really get it, and that's rare,
Shiv, even for someone with
a lot more therapy than you've
had," Dr. G went on. "You have
a deeper understanding than
usual, even if you show it in
pictures instead of words."
"I hate this," Shiv said again,
shuddering. "It makes me feel
helpless all over again. I just
feel so fucking lost and alone."
"You're not helpless anymore,"
Dr. G said. "You're quite powerful
now, and use your abilities with
great precision. I'm impressed
with how you have handled them."
"You're not alone either," Aidan said.
"We're here for you. So are Tolli and
Simon. You can fight back, but you
don't have to do it alone. You have
people who will fight with you."
"And what if I don't want to fight?"
Shiv snarled, shoving the pages
back in their folder, not caring if he
bent them. They'd been bent before.
"What if I want to walk away and
forget this shit ever happened?"
"It's not so easy to forget, but if
you don't want to fight, that's okay,"
Dr. G said. "You have people
who will fight for you. All you
have to do is say the word."
It was a nice thought,
to sit back and just let
somebody else deal with
this shit, maybe find the priest
and kick him in crotch a bit.
Shiv swallowed, his throat
scratchy. "Okay. Do it."
"Thank you," Dr. G said,
sounding like Shiv had given
him a treasure instead of
a buttload of trouble. "I'll get
right on this from my end."
"Zipper and I will look into it
as well," said Aidan. "I'll know
what horrors he's hiding, and that
should give us an idea where
to search for further proof."
"Just, you know ... be careful,"
Shiv said, looking aside. "He's
got some kind of protection, not
the gang kind or Boss White would
know and he don't hold with that shit.
Important people stuff, I guess."
"We'll be very careful," Aidan said.
"Zipper can jump us out in an instant
if anything goes seriously wrong."
"Okay," Shiv said. "Okay."
It really wasn't, and neither
was he ... but he was starting
to hope that it might be.
Someday.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its notes appear elsewhere.
Re: Release the krakens!
Date: 2020-06-25 12:59 am (UTC)Re: Release the krakens!
Date: 2020-06-25 03:39 am (UTC)Re: Release the krakens!
Date: 2020-06-25 03:42 am (UTC)Re: Release the krakens!
Date: 2020-06-25 03:52 am (UTC)