Ruthe Visits the Strangler's Victim

By Monday morning, on her private early dawn walk, Ruthe still considered backing off this new adventure trail, however, she knew with a growing insight, that she had to go check on that woman. At least once.

What if she has no home to go to? What if she was scared out of her wits? All morning, as she wrote her chemistry exam, these questions haunted her.

Lord, I'm scared of him too, but I have an advantage; I can pray and expect You to deliver me. That short young woman with the shiny black hair probably can't. The reasonable, mature thing to do was to check out the aftermath of Saturday evening, perhaps even with the police. Ruthe winced, but she knew that sometimes doing right costs.

As soon as her exam was done, Ruthe could leave. She threw her resolve to remain anonymous away, and her tightly budgeted studying time too. She told her mother she had to drive into Saskatoon a couple of hours before her evening shift. She did not say why.

When she was thirteen, Ruthe had stumbled on a profound thought. If she hid from one crisis, there would be sure to be others to cow her into a corner. That was not how she meant to live her life. On that premise she had begged her dad not to pick up and move just because he felt the neighbours did not like him in Kleinstadt. He had never said she had changed his mind, but Ruthe was relieved when he dropped the idea. This connected in her mind. She was going to follow through on what she had started the previous Saturday.

The woman sitting on the hospital bed did not recognize her, so Ruthe made a self-conscious face and introduced herself as, "the person who brought you here on Saturday night." She added offhandedly, "early evening, actually."

That olive complexion looked paler against the blue pillow and sheets. Now that Ruthe looked closer, the woman seemed much younger. But the expression was hard and old.

"By the way, my name's Ruthe. Yours?" she asked, shifting her weight back to her left foot uneasily.

"That's the idea," said the conscientious intern, swinging through the door on rubber soles. "Get her personal data and next of kin, will you? She's refused to help us out. Not a word."

Ruthe gave a startled look at the dimple man. She turned back to the woman.

"A-, I wasn't sure- what happened. What did I do? Them #@$%& cops don't need nothin' on me!"

Ruthe turned to show Dr. Davie her own dimpled left cheek. "Would you excuse us a bit," she asked softly, "while I censor the facts?"

He dimpled right back. "Sure, Angel o' Mercy. I trust you. D'sooner d'better." He left with a good-natured whistle.

Ruthe pulled up the cheap guest chair beside the bed. "Now, I'm just an ordinary, rather naive country girl, who cares about people."

The patient turned to face her directly. "Yeah. Y'look like a softy. Y'don't want to know the @#$ #$%& mess."

"You matter to me. Maybe more than you'll ever know."

"The cops said you bopped ol' Beresford on the head and rolled him under the bed, then you dragged me down those @#$* #$%@ stairs. Did you really?"

Ruthe grinned sheepishly, moving her chin around as if undecided on an expression to wear. "It was hard on the nerves. But we got away, didn't we?"

"Then it's true? You saved my life? I remember him tying a towel around my neck." She motioned dramatically as if yanking something tighter around her throat. Now the patient wanted to know all the details again from Ruthe, especially if the cops had anything to put herself in jail.

"As far as I know, they see you only as a victim of a strangler. Privately they may think you were dumb to be there in the first place, but no, I don't think they put you in jail for being the victim."

There was a deep sigh, so Ruthe asked for her name again.

"Okay. My name is Darlene. Darlene Bonne Barrett to be exact. I'm sixteen. I, -okay, so it was sort'a my fault. I was workin' my way through all the Johns in school, from Z to A, when this little Jamie runt sic-ed his big brother on me. How was I to know he was psycho?"

Ruthe listened in growing amazement as Darlene spilled out the ugly story of her life. Despite her broad-minded reading, she had never come across anything quite so awful. Do people really do such things? Does a prostitute mother really not know better than to show her daughter such vile, immoral acts?

No wonder Darlene was afraid she might have done something to put her in jail. Lord, now that I know all this, do I have to report her? Immediately Ruthe felt reassurance within her spirit that she had only to care and help as opportunity might arise. She decided what Darlene needed most was to experience God's forgiveness in Jesus Christ.

"I hate my life!" Darlene ended her story. "I sort of wish that #$@%@& #$%*+ pervert had killed me."

A slight gasp escaped Ruthe's lips. She ached, how she ached for this girl. Their eyes locked a moment, but Darlene pulled hers away.

"@#$%@! It feels like you're pourin' maple syrup on me!"


----END OF EXCERPT.



Some questions to consider;
If you have ever been a victim, of an attempted strangling, or a rape, or some physical attack, what kind of friend do you wish had visited you right after that?

If you have had a friend experience such an attack, did you know what to do or say to be helpful?

What exactly does such a person need most from a true and understanding friend?

What are the spiritual dynamics in such a crisis? God is present and involved, whether you think He failed you, or whatever. I think a good grasp of His loving concern, and the steps He said to take are crucial, but it is going to take a loving and wise friend to help the victim process all this. A counsellor may be vital, but so are good friends to the recovery from this devasting, life-changing experience.

For now, I'd like to suggest that my novel, Ruthe's Secret Roses is a book that deals with these issues, or at least shows you how one naive, country girl in the city, who cares passionately for others, grapples with learning to be the kind of friend Jesus wants her to be to the individuals - like Darlene - that she meets in the city. I recommend you read it and then contact me to discuss your thoughts and opinions.

Read six sample chapters Or go directly to Order the e-book to download and read on your computer. If you prefer the real paperback book in your hands, you can order that from Booklocker.com It's a Print-on-Demand book, which means it will be on the way to you within 48 hours!

Ruthe's Secret Roses available in softcover! Purchase it at BookLocker.com and it will be in the mail to you within 48 hours!

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