DEMON DOCTOR BETRAYS WITH A KISS

 DEMON DOCTOR BETRAYS ME WITH A KISS,  AGE 16 

  9-16-21

 

          Following is a situation so painful that I wasn’t sure I could write it.  However, I am set on pulling out all the stops to state my life as it was; the good, the bad & the ugly.  So here it is, bear with me as it has a long back story.

           I had gone to live with my Dad, moving from Mommy Fearest’s house in Middletown, N.J. {2 Knapp Circle} to 356 S. 1^st St, B’klyn, NY. When I arrived at the local school the fall semester was under way.  It was cold.  I had got money from Dad to buy a coat.  The one I bought was white fake fur, beautiful, I had never owned anything like it – I looked like a polar bear.  {3 months later I took that coat to the cleaners & it came back a frazzled mess, the fur hairs were all singed.  It was a portent of things to come.}

 

          When I walked through the isles of the school it was a startling new racial environment – the majority of students were black, then Latin, then mixed like Jewish, Polish & traditional whites.  As I traversed the halls, time & again, I heard the refrain, referring to me,

           “Hello, Teacher.”

           I can only guess why they called me teacher.  One, I was tall {5’7”}, two, most teachers were white, three, I wore glasses, & four, I must have looked older than I was.  After all, there was not one bar or restaurant I had ever entered at 16 that refused to serve me alcohol.  When we were under age we were allowed wine during big feast days like Xmas & Easter, & when we dined out as teens we were permitted alcohol if the restaurant was willing.  So I was always served – that’s how I know I looked 21 or over, not 16.

          This honeymoon was shattered in the most horrible way a few months later – toward the end of my senior year.

 

          I was fascinated with black guys, which probably started when I was 12 & infatuated with a black athlete in the 8^th grade, Perrineville, NJ, Walter Wallace.  My interest in him lasted into High School but nothing ever happened except a word here or there.  When I appeared in B’klyn, then, surrounded by black citizens & going with a gang of black females to all the basketball games, this interest was revived.

          I looked around for possible candidates for a date & noticed the President of our student council, an impressive looking Jewish female with long honey-blonde hair, talking stealthily a lot with a handsome black male.  I decided this male had something going for him, & might be a good choice for a relationship.  Don't recall how it started that we spoke, but next thing you know, he’s at my apt in the absence of Dad & of course tries to have sex with me.

 

          But he persuaded me to allow him to masturbate on my bare stomach & have an orgasm & I obliged. {Truthfully my interest in sex per se was minimal, I was a virgin until one fateful night at 16 an Italian guitar player in a band, in a bar I was visiting, got to me – to be explained later – I was stinking drunk when it happened.}

           An unusual event did occur while this young man was in my apt – can’t recall his name, let’s say Ronald. 

          Someone was knocking on my door.  Now the back story to this is like I said I went with a bunch of black females to all the basketball games {I loved the game, played it myself a lot, & we were the all-stars of B’klyn, big shots}, & I was infatuated with an Italian player, his name was Peter. 

          I might interject here that a couple times, after the game, the kid persuaded me to allow them/us, to use my apt for a get together.  They always went some place after games to ‘make out,’ dance, I guess you call it ‘partying.’  {In those days, no one I knew did drugs – today almost everyone does - I never have.}

          It had to be some place where parents weren’t home, & Dad worked the evening-night shift, so my apt was suitable, & it had 2 bedrooms.

           I had decorated my bedroom, the larger of the two, exquisitely.  I had painted the walls hunter green, with the old-time wood trimmings gold, a mint green wood floor, & new furniture Dad bought me, not expensive, but beautifully crafted blonde jobs, & I bought a gold satin coverlet for my bed with a nice thick throw rug in front.  It was the most beautiful room I’d ever had & I was proud of it.

          But unfortunately, Peter & a few of the most popular kids took over my room & locked the door, where he laid on my bed & made out with a black girl. 

          I was left in the living room with a Jewish boy who looked like Ichabod Crane.  He was shorter than me, had a nose as big as an elephant & an Adam's apple the size of a ping pong ball on his scrawny neck.  He harassed me the entire time to make out, I kept trying my door which had Peter behind it, but they put something against it so it wouldn’t budge. 

          Another black couple took over my Dad’s bed – it had no door so I could see the cartoon where the boy kept trying to do sex, the girl kept repulsing him, but would make out with him again & again. If only my Dad knew, right on HIS PILLOW.  One time the phone rang, it was him.  Before I picked it up I told them all to be silent.  Dad was suspicious, I think a Lithuanian neighbor might have said something or else he was psychic.

           After the Peter stunt, the next time the females asked to use my apt I said no.  They said to me,

           “We will get even with you for this – you’ll be sorry.”

           Now while this new boy is at my place someone is banging at my door.  I expected no one & Ronald & I went to the kitchen where the door was & just sat at the table. 

          After a while boy’s voices start to resound,

 

          “Rasa – Peter is here.”    

 

Ronald & I just sat there, nervous, astonished, we surmised a good number of males from the basketball team were there – 6 or 7 of them.  We didn’t know what to do.  We feared opening the door, but they would not stop.

After a long time, finally, Ronald says to me, 

“Open the door.”

 

So I open it, the guys are SHOCKED at the one who is there.  His presence confounded their plans, which I surmised only later, was to GANG RAPE me.  They seemed sheepish when they saw Ronald. 

OK, so Ronald being there, God had allowed it to PREVENT THE ATROCITY OF MY BEING GANG RAPED, because had I been alone & opened the door it would have occurred–but obviously, God didn’t want this & empowered my Guardian Angels to stand against it.  So one evil was avoided but another one took its place, as I have begun to explain. 

At this moment it might be expedient to channel Peter re their intentions.  Peter, why did you &the others come to my door? 

P:   Isn’t it obvious?  Your guess is correct, we planned to rape you, make it seem like you did it willingly because you were infatuated with me, I’d make out with you, have sex, then permit the others to take you. 

ME:   Didn’t you realize how much that would hurt me?  Both physically, mentally & emotionally.

 

P:  What did we care?  We were animals, or lower than that.  We had no feelings.

 

ME:   Why as the presence of Ronald so daunting that you all seemed confounded & sheepish?

 

P:   We weren’t expecting another guy.  It changed everything.  If he squealed on us – not being one of our clique – our asses would be grass.  We’d be held accountable; it wasn’t a consortium any more.

 

Me to Mother God:   Did god plan for Ronald to be there in order to prevent this trauma?

 

MG:   You have noticed that when it came to horrible rapes, like this one, or your Uncle, God had your Guardian Angels prevent it.  This type of suffering God refused to add to your story.  There are limits to what God will permit for certain people, some sorrows are allowed, some prevented.

 

ME:   Then obviously what was to follow did not have as much repercussions or pain as this would have been?

 

MG:   You know how the world is regarding sex, & so many people would have blamed you it would have been too much to bear, so God prevented it.

 

ME:   On a scale of trauma to me, this would have been a 10.  What about the situation I am about to explain, was that less than a 10? 

MG:   It was a different sort of 10, one you could bear more easily.  Trust me on that.

 

OK, thanks Mother God & end of channeling.

 

Back to the incident.  Ronald stayed at my apt maybe 15-20 mins more, biding his time to escape.  He was paranoid, & thought those guys would be waiting to jump him.  He asked me if I had a weapon to give him to protect himself.  I gave him a large pair of scissors of Dads – I should have given him an ordinary knife – because he never returned the valuable scissors. 

Now a few days after all this I’m sitting on the toilet & see something I’ve never seen before – tiny translucent bugs climbing around my crotch.  I am horrified.  I heard of cooties – we all did in school.  They’d check our heads  every year for them in school – if anyone had them, like I recall one time – in 6^th grade – the teacher came back to get the coat of a girl who was infested – a perfectly respectable farmer girl - & held the coat way out from her body – everyone laughed.  So you’d get sent home if you were infested.  But I’d never seen cooties before & I was frightened – what did this mean? 

 It’s obvious Ronald had given me them when he orgasmed on my stomach. 

 Dictionary – Cootie: a louse, especially one affecting humans, as the body louse, head louse, or pubic louse. 

Louse:   Phthirius pubis  (crab louse, or pubic louse )

           I was spooked out, having had no experience of this, & told Dad about it.  I asked him for$10 to go to a doctor.  He kept asking again & again, where it was, like I felt he was invading my privacy & I was so embarrassed, I kept saying it was on my stomach. 

          He finally gave me the ten bucks.  I had seen a shingle near us -‘Myron Cohen, M.D.’ up the street – I think it was Keap St. on the corner of South 2^nd – for 60 years ago it’s great I recall what I did.

 

          I go in, the doc – an older man, tall, gaunt & ugly, maybe 60 - examines me & gives me a prescription. I think it was a cream.  Then he does something wrong –he kisses me on the lips, & after that, he does something even worse.  He says,

           “This proves you are a loose girl – you let me kiss you.”

 I was baffled.

It’s like a guy rapes you & says it proves you’re a slut, because you let him.  I felt fear.  A person in authority had accused me of being ‘loose.’  I stood accused of wrong doing.  I went to a doctor for healing & instead I got judgment. 

But it gets worse; it leads to one of the most devastating events of my life.

 I go to school & notice pretty soon, that no one is talking to me.  I see old friends; try to speak with them, they walk away.  I am being shunned.  And I am baffled. 

I had two best girl friends, both Jewish, one short, one tall.  One day I am right in front of my building & the short one comes by.  I approach her & I say,

“Please speak to me!  No one will talk to me & I don’t know why.  What’s wrong?” 

I thank God she explained it to me.  She says something like,

 

“Rebecca {the other girl} & I are both forbidden to speak to you–because we were told that you have VD” {venereal disease}.

 

I gasped & told her it wasn’t true.  She didn’t know what to think & said sorry, she had to run, & that was it.

 

I figured it out later, that Dr. Cohen, who had forced his kiss on my lips – told his wife I had the cooties, or maybe he said VD.  He gave his wife MY NAME {which I should not have given him} & she questioned her lady friends – Jewish – if their daughter in school knew me.  So then the Moms of the other girls would tell them never to speak to me again, I was toast. 

The news that I ‘had VD’ must have gone through the school like wild fire, because I couldn’t get a single person to speak to me!  And the black girl who said they’d get even with me for not letting them use my place gloated over this & said, ‘We told you so.’  So I guess they spread it 100 times worse than it might have been, starting with two Jewish girls whose Mom’s knew Dr. Cohen, this gossip reached the entire school. 

But there was one girl who didn’t care, & she was the most beautiful female I’d ever seen.  She was blonde, voluptuous, movie star quality.  Her breasts were bigger than mine –  DD cup.  Everywhere we went, men fell over themselves admiring us – her more than me.  When we ate at a cafeteria, a man paid for our food asking nothing in return.  It was like that everywhere we went.

Going to school now for me was unbearable; I played hooky a lot with gorgeous Cecilia.  She hated school also because people said she was a prostitute.  If she was, I didn’t care.  She was always happy & smiling.

I believe this ostracism helped me to make up my mind to leave it all behind, burn my bridges, & embark on that journey to Hollywood.  Had I been happy, had I had something to hold onto, it might have deterred my departure.  But this was my second escape, first from Mommy Fearest, then from this, & in June, 1961 I took one tiny suitcase that held all the clothes I owned, went to the Chelsea Hotel to meet ‘Marilyn Monroe’s preferred photographer’ – It was 6AM, I gave my last 50 cents to a poor black guy on the street - & onto my next great adventure, Hollywood, here I come.   {End Chapter 11}