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Carrie
Napi Mephisto by Ron West, pages 114-16


Napi recalls the other side of his split childhood, brought to memory by his experiences and sees a resemblance to the Native American boarding school legacy

When I was in fourth grade I used to run away and hide from the adults I lived with because they beat me badly and also severely hurt me emotionally. It was a childhood of actually having my face spit in, my neighborhood nickname was “The Maggot”

And not only terrible beatings with belts, and sticks from my parents, the kids that were bullies knew if they beat me up, my parents would do nothing about it or perhaps beat me up for getting beat up, the other kids thought that was hilarious. The only love or friends I’d know were my pets that I was only able to keep long enough to bond with, and then they were ALWAYS taken away and disposed of for some imaginary wrong blamed on me (as well it seemed I was responsible for every bad thing my biological father ever did, except he was actually a good guy I was not allowed to see except rarely and not for very long) But I had this safe place, a magical bamboo grove where I was sometimes able to escape and be safe, because no one else ever knew about a hidden room deep in thick bamboo that only I knew where to find One time I escaped to my bamboo hideaway and what seemed like some incredible event of magic and power happened. I found a girl also hiding there, I knew her, because we went to the same school, I was in fourth, and she was in third grade. Carrie was really very pretty and became to me incredibly beautiful I did not understand, for many years, the ‘why’ of what happened to us in the bamboo. We had known adult lovemaking. Carrie knew and had shown me this

Ron had quickly, quietly negotiated the path to his secret room in the bamboo thicket and surprised a girl there alone, Carrie. She looked frightened but overcame her fright when she recognized Ron, they knew each other from the school playground. Ron was surprised as well

Carrie asked “Do you like girls?”

Ron, remembering Lori, his one true friend, replied “Yes”

Carrie then said “I know what some boys like”

Carrie showed Ron, in the beginning, how to kiss with the tongue, it was a beautiful sensation.. they were lying on the soft mat of bamboo leaves, Carrie had then removed her panties and let Ron see under her dress

Carrie asked “Would you like to touch me there?”

Ron felt warm all over his body, unlike anything he’d ever felt, as he touched and then felt, Carrie’s vagina, evoking indescribable sensation..

Carrie then had said “Will you let me touch yours?”

Her cool touch, gentle, softly caressing was unlike anything Ron had ever known, Carrie said for Ron to close his eyes and keep them closed, as she continued and placed Ron inside herself while straddling from above. And then she was all over him, completely covering Ron who surrendered everything solely to feeling. Carrie kept her hands covering Ron’s eyes throughout these eternal moments and, Ron was suddenly very, very dizzy, as though he were passing out-

Ron thought “I’m dying!” but must have said it aloud because he heard Carrie, as though from very far away: “Silly, you are not”

Carrie had then lifted herself off of Ron and shortly after said “You can open your eyes now.” There was a faint rustle of bamboo. Ron opened his eyes, slowly

Carrie was gone I did not think back to this time of what seemed like incredible beauty (or remember it at all for two these very badly hurt children) until recently, and immediately realized Carrie’s father or someone close had been raping her

I only know we needed each other in those moments, and loved each other very much, because there was, as children needing only love, beauty and trust, not ever one mean thing happened between us when we would meet in the bamboo. Both of us were sweet and gentle to the other, and kept the others secret and we were never found out

But after only a couple of months and a few encounters, Carrie’s family moved away

Initially, when recalling Carrie these many years later, I thought I must have been in love with her, although this love should never have happened, for nearly all of my life, even if I did not recall this event for many, many years I’d met a woman that looks very close to what Carrie must have looked like when she had grown up, very beautiful. And I saw a lot of hurt in this woman, in her eyes, but also a deeply beautiful spirit, at least it seemed so, to me

I believed I’d fallen in love with her, because incredible emotions came up from deep, an indescribable grief, but somehow mixed with incredible beauty, I wanted to cry and in a way I did, for months, I lost weight (a lot of weight) my belly had what seemed non-stop adrenal or elevator feelings, and a great infatuation I believed was love for this woman nearly overwhelmed my mentality

I was never mean to her, upset, yes, at times, because she was in a position to and did some brutal things to my emotions, rather deliberately, it seems. But I could never hate her or stay upset at her. And then I’d remembered Carrie from my childhood

After this recollection, I’d the thought perhaps with this later woman it was not actually love, as much as my heart had opened to grieving for myself and Carrie

For the purpose of this ‘novel’ I have named the grown woman “Christine.” A literal ‘femme fatale’ who profiles for a sexually abused childhood manifesting as misandry in adult behaviors, it seemed she’d set out to destroy me, not only herself with poor or arrogant life choices but in the end, for people who genuinely care, adversity only causes us to grow

She will always have my friendship and respect, were she ever to face what she’d done rather than only excuse herself with self-pity for what she’d been through, and get back in contact

The raped girl Carrie from my childhood, on the other hand, appears to have been my lifetime guardian angel: in relation to imprinting my mind with eternal gratitude for women, and must be why against all odds I’d not become an abusive man. This points to the paradox noted by ‘Mephisto’ in Goethe’s Faust:

"..a part of that power that always the evil will, and yet ends doing the good"

Son of a Lesser God

Print

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1985161818/ref=sr_1_5/137-7661340-5393013?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1518069509&sr=1-5

Kindle

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079NQ28B1/ref=sr_1_70?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1518069773&sr=1-70&refinements=p_27%3AJames+LaFond

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