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Chapter 5
Sally
Barringer was a newspaper reporter, and her friends considered her quite
attractive. Medium reddish-brown hair the color of a sorrel horse reached
to her shoulders when she wasn't wearing it up for work. The sun had left
her face a golden apricot making her brown eyes seem even wider and deeper.
The expression on her face held years of seasoned experience. Always, an
inner clockwork of compassion and empathy showed through her soulful eyes.
Sally had returned
to newspaper reporting after her divorce from Timothy Barringer Jr. 15
years earlier. Now 49, Sally's writing experience stemmed from college
where she was feature editor on the university newspaper. In her senior
year she had become Chief Editor.
The character of Sally
Barringer was shaped many years earlier at the age of five when her mother
put her in a orphanage. When Sally was born out of wedlock, her mother
struggled to support both of them, but could no longer do so. Sally
spent the next two years being transferred from orphanage to foster home
and back to orphanage.
At the orphanage, she
would play on the front sidewalk so she could see the faces of people as
they walked by. She painstakingly and deliberately looked for the face
of her mother in every woman who passed.
Sally was completely
dependent upon her mother. To be abandoned by the source of her security
was the worst possible devastation. Often, such an event destroys a child's
trust beyond repair. Fortunately, Sally was buoyant and survived the devastation,
but with pain and confusion which would take many years to dissolve.
When Sally's mother
found regular work out of state, she sent money to her widowed sister,
Myrtle, who lived on a small farm. Myrtle reluctantly agreed to adopt
Sally. It was a burden Myrtle was sure the Lord gave her to bear.
Even though she had
never met her aunt, Sally received the news of being adopted as a homecoming.
In her child's heart, she felt her small world might be all right
now. Those hopes were dashed when Sally was confronted by the reality of
Myrtle's outlook on life.
Aunt Myrtle was rigid
and moody because she felt abandoned by her deceased husband. Sally became
aware of Aunt Myrtle's unpredictable nature because she would receive stinging
swats for confusing reasons. She had no way of knowing this behavior stemmed
from Myrtle's harsh religious convictions about the sinful state of man.
Aunt Myrtle was always
quick to voice her opinions on this subject and would say, "Every man's
got some weakness. You have to understand this. They can't help it. With
my husband it was chain smoking. He couldn't stop it even when the doctors
told him to, and now he's dead."
As the years went by
Aunt Myrtle became more domineering, and harsh. Mr. Peck, who lived down
the lane once invited Sally to go horseback riding. Sally was timid and
afraid, but Aunt Myrtle forced her to go.
Sally said,"I'm afraid
of horses. Couldn't someone hold him the first time, until I get used to
him?"
"No," replied Aunt
Myrtle. "You're big enough to do this yourself. Just get up there, and
do it now!"
Sally was shaking,
and at the brink of tears, when she climbed on the horse which got jittery
because Sally was holding on so tight. The horse started to dance, so Sally
held on tighter. Then the horse danced more excitedly.
Luckily, the neighbor
stepped in and grabbed hold of the horse to steady it. Sally cried,"Please
don't make me do this." with tears in her eyes.
Aunt Myrtle was quick
to take charge, saying, "OK, calm down. Don't be afraid. You're making
the horse nervous."
Sally sucked in her
tears, and tried to calm herself, but underneath she was still terrified.
Aunt Myrtle instructed,
"Pull on the left rein to go left, or pull on the right to move right.
Kick the horse to go forward. And pull back on both reins to stop. It's
very simple. Now, just try it."
Mr. Peck smiled and
released the horse. Sally nudged the horse with her feet, and the horse
walked forward. When she tugged on the right rein, the horse turned right,
walking in a circle. Sally loosened up, and relaxed slightly.
Next, she pulled on
the left rein. The horse went left, and Sally smiled with tentative confidence.
She was starting to get the feel of it. The next moment would erase her
confidence completely.
As the horse walked
along the fence toward the back gate where two garbage cans stood, a small
gust of wind blew a clear plastic bag out of the can nearest the horse.
The horse was startled,
and shied instantly away from the flying plastic bag. Sally was unprepared
for the horse to jolt so quickly. As the horse pounced to the left, Sally
went over the right side. Her foot caught in the stirrup.
It happened so quickly
she had not released the reins before going over. It was this good fortune
which saved her from being on a run away horse, completely out of control.
The horse was now considerably
shaken, and just wanted to bolt out through the gate. But because Sally
still held the right rein, the horse was forced into a small left spin.
Time became compressed
for Sally, and very still. It was as if her whole life were reduced into
this small wedge of swirling silence. In astonishment it seemed to Sally
that Aunt Myrtle and the neighbor revolved slowly in the background, not
because the horse moved slowly, but because time moved slowly. Sally's
intense reaction melted those moments into a nightmare, which she would
have for many years.
Three times the horse
spun Sally as she looked up with her foot caught in the stirrup. She was
eyeball to eyeball with the horse, each terrified and each desperately
wanting to get loose.
Chance, grace, or plain
luck play a bigger part in our lives than we sometimes acknowledge. Such
was the fate which released Sally's foot from the stirrup. Her foot just
worked itself free and she fell to the ground, letting go of the rein.
Aunt Myrtle rushed
over to her, asking if she were hurt. Sally shook her head, hating Aunt
Myrtle too much to use words.
Then Aunt Myrtle hardened,
and demanded that Sally get back on the horse. Sally broke into gasping
tears. She pleaded and begged Aunt Myrtle not to force her on the horse.
Still Aunt Myrtle harangued.
It was Mr. Peck who
then intervened, knowing Myrtle's rage had boiled over, and she was nearly
out of control. He suggested he bring the horse back another time.
Sally's life was drab
and poor, and Aunt Myrtle made little effort to be understanding. The only
brightness in Sally's life was school, where she excelled. The teachers
were kind and encouraging.
As Sally grew into
her teens, her feelings became numbed because she was so often overwhelmed
with despair, helplessness, resentment and anger toward her domineering
aunt.
Like anyone else in
such bleak surroundings, Sally denied what was too upsetting or too menacing
to accept. She didn't make a conscious choice to insulate herself from
reality or to ignore her emotions, it all just sort of happened.
Anyone in an uncomfortable
situation seeks to control it. And this was the source of Sally's need
to control the people and events in her life. When Sally could be in control,
she could create for herself a sense of safety and security. No upheavals,
no surprises, no conflicting feelings to reconcile.
As Sally grew older,
she unconsciously controlled relationships, especially with men. She masked
her efforts to control by being helpful or even instructive.
Whenever Sally could
help, advise, prompt, remind, or even warn, she was at her best because
she was in control, like a mother. Somehow, she always became the lover,
but never the loved. And yet all Sally ever wanted was to be loved.
With Aunt Myrtle's
bias about men, it was easy for Sally to accept the weakness of Timothy
Barringer. Because coldness was all she ever knew from Aunt Myrtle, she
was pre-adjusted to his aloofness. For all the wrong reasons, she was drawn
to Timothy as the moth is drawn to the flame.
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