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One Woman Falling

By Melanie Campbell

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The voice of the LORD is over the waters;
the God of glory thunders,
the LORD thunders over the mighty waters.
PART ONE: THE RAPIDS


Chapter One


Before the waterfalls, the dream was all I had.
I stood near the base of high-desert mountains similar to the ones where I’d lived as a child. Sharp peaks of gray against a cloudless sky stretched before me as far as I could see. Grandpa was in front of me, wearing his old brown cowboy hat. He was fit, strong and determined—untouched by the cancer that took his life.
A path behind Grandpa curved into one of the mountains and disappeared around a distant corner. The only sound was a faraway roar, as ominous as the doom and uncertainty that fell over me. Choking back tears, I pleaded with Grandpa. “I can’t do this alone.”
Grandpa shook his head. “Cassie, you have to go.”
“Can’t you go with me?” I felt like a little girl, certain my plea would spur Grandpa into action. The darkness that lurked around the corner of the trail ahead couldn’t harm me if Grandpa was at my side.
“I’ll always be with you.” Grandpa’s soft blue eyes penetrated my soul with love.
How could he leave me alone in this desolate place with nothing but a narrow path to guide me? I was too weak, too naïve, and too afraid of being alone.
As if hearing my thoughts, Grandpa reassured, “Cassie, I’ve given you everything you need. Remember what I taught you.”
Then he vanished. There was no place to go but forward. And I would go alone.
I didn’t realize a dream could alter the course of a life. Sometimes change begins when we least expect it, in quiet whispers on the darkest nights.



A damp chill from the thick fog outside seeped through the front door as Derrick left. I shivered. Right before dawn, I dreamt about Grandpa again. The familiar heartache of the dream rested on me like the fog clung to the manicured lawn outside, a barrier between the hope of spring and the potential warmth of the early morning sun.
I made my way through my morning routine with my four-year-old daughter, Renee. By late morning the fog lifted, revealing a pale blue sky and warm sunshine—a rare treat for the Willamette Valley in mid-March. “Renee, honey, put on your shoes and we’ll go outside for a bit.” I helped Renee tie the laces on her sneakers, then swung her around over my head, making her squeal in delight. My chest ached with the realization she’d soon be too big for me to pick up. Next year she’d be in kindergarten and my days would feel empty without her contagious smile.
Before following Renee to the back yard, I grabbed my kitchen shears. The daffodils were in full bloom, and some of the tulips were starting to open. A flower arrangement would look nice on our mahogany dining table.
Renee blinked in the sunlight, her cheeks dimpling into a huge smile. She ran to the small wooden play structure her dad had built for her and climbed up the bars. My heart warmed at the sight, thinking of Renee enjoying countless hours this summer engulfed in the simple pleasures she’d find right outside her door. Picking strawberries, running through sprinklers, counting the apples on the young trees, spending time in the garden with her dad. I had a beautiful home, a successful husband, and a precious young daughter. It was everything I always wanted … almost everything.
Cassie, you have to go.
Grandpa’s voice echoed in my head, and my skin prickled. I cut enough flowers for a simple bouquet and called Renee to come in.
After lunch, I put my daughter in her room for a nap and sat down. The morning newspaper lay on the coffee table, untouched. I almost never looked at the paper anymore but today, reading sounded better than the drama of daytime talk shows.
I fingered through the pages. When I came to the outdoors section, a picture of a large waterfall covered the top half of the page. The water was pure white as it cascaded down a sheer rock cliff. Tall fir trees lined the small portion of the river that was visible before the fall, and green moss covered the grey rock above the pool where the fall ended. Spray obscured most of the pool in a white mist. It was dangerous, beautiful, wild. Altogether different than the picturesque view from the window of my living room. Something stirred inside me.
Cassie, you have to go.
For some reason, I missed my grandpa more now than I had three years ago when the sting of death pierced my heart. Perhaps that was why I couldn’t get the dream out of my head. I stared at the picture of the waterfall, searching. I could almost see him behind the veil of water, beckoning me to join him. Maybe I was losing my mind. Derrick often told me I was crazy. “Just like your mother,” he would say, slurring the “m” when he had too much to drink.
Was Derrick more perceptive than I realized? I wasn’t sure what was true anymore. I took my kitchen shears and cut out the picture of the waterfall. Only I needed to know why. It was a nice picture. That was all.
The phone rang while Renee was still resting in her room. I checked the caller ID and picked up the phone.
“Is it a good time?” Nannie didn’t waste time with formalities.
“Yes, he’s not home yet. How are you?”
“I’m doing fine, sweetie. When are you coming to visit? Renee’s probably grown a foot since I last saw her.” Nannie’s voice was tender, not accusing, yet pangs of guilt stabbed at my chest. In the past year, I’d only visited my grandma three times. With her living in a retirement home an hour and a half away, the drive and visiting took more time from my day than Derrick would allow. My mind searched for an excuse for not visiting Nannie that didn’t give away my true reasons, though she had probably guessed long ago what kept me away. Nannie had never approved of Derrick and warned me seven years ago I was making a terrible mistake by marrying an atheist. I thought I could change him, make him believe.
Instead, he changed me.
“Nannie, I’d love to come see you, but Renee is such a handful, it’s hard to make the drive over without any help. Derrick’s been working long hours lately, so he can’t come with me.” No lies there, only omissions.
The line was quiet, and I imagined Nannie sitting in her padded rocking chair, her short hair dyed the ash brown of her youth, fluffed and sprayed with Aqua Net.
“Well, I can give you money to stay in a motel when you come. That way you’re not driving so much in one day.”
“That’d be nice, but Derrick ... wouldn’t like me to be gone overnight.” I pulled at the hem of my shirt. I couldn’t even imagine telling Derrick I would be gone for a whole night.
“Are you two still seeing the marriage counselor?”
I closed my eyes, not ready to admit how the counseling had failed. In desperation and loneliness, I had confided in Nannie about Derrick’s increasing use of alcohol and his growing temper. She’d encouraged me to seek marriage counseling. Derrick had gone along at my request, but by the third appointment, he was done. He didn’t like what the counselor had to say. “Derrick didn’t really see eye-to-eye with the counselor.” My face turned hot at the admission. “I tried to go without him, but he insisted I stop.” To put it mildly. I leaned against the dining table. Why did I suddenly feel so weak?
“Cassie, Derrick is your husband. He’s not God. At some point, you need to realize what’s best for you and Renee, then do it.” Nannie’s soft voice was full of conviction. I felt like a teenager again, sneaking in through the backdoor of my grandparents’ house past my curfew, thinking they were too old and oblivious to notice.
“You don’t understand.” Tears stung my eyes. I bit my lip, my hold on the lie slipping away. “He’ll divorce me if I do anything like that, Nannie. He would even take Renee from me.”
“Honey, if you allow him to keep mistreating you, what does that show Renee about how she should be treated? He might decide to divorce you rather than change, but there isn’t a judge in this country who will give him custody. He’s an alcoholic.” The word made me nauseous.
I wanted to believe Nannie. It was logical. But I could see Derrick’s face during our late-night fights. The coldness in his eyes, the threats believable and real. He hadn’t always been like that. Even this morning he had been charming and playful, making funny faces at Renee while he ate his breakfast, and complimenting me on the eggs I had cooked. If I hung on a little longer, maybe we could make it.
“When his business settles down a bit, he’ll drink less and things will be better. He almost never loses his temper in front of Renee. He’s a good dad.” I stood in the living room and looked out the sliding glass door. Renee’s play structure sat grounded in the yard, its primary colors vivid in the sun. Three large, raised garden beds flanked the west edge of the yard. Soon, Derrick would be spending his evenings there, tending seedlings. At those times, he reminded me of the soft-spoken, nature-loving boy who had won my heart years ago.
“Nothing is going to change until Derrick admits he has an addiction and gets help. Do you really want Renee to grow up with alcohol as a part of her day-to-day life?”
Goose bumps covered the back of my arms as dozens of childhood memories flooded my vision. I saw my mom and smelled the sweet and acrid mixture of perfume and hard liquor. I felt the coldness of the car and pangs of hunger as she left me alone while she went in the bar and didn’t come back for hours.
“If he leaves me, I won’t have anything. How will I raise Renee?”
“What will you be losing?” Nannie’s voice escalated. It wasn’t like her to lose her temper, but there was a new desperation in her tone. “Cassie, what is the house worth? Is it worth your sanity? Your life?”
“No.” The tears I’d been holding back fell down my cheeks. “I don’t know what to do. I’m … trapped. I don’t even have a job.” And I’ve never lived on my own.
“So this is what you do while I bust my rear to make a living?”
Impossible. It was too early in the day. I spun around.
Derrick stood in the entryway, his briefcase in hand. The look on his face said he was standing there long enough to hear things not meant for his ears.
“Nannie, I have to go. ’Bye.” I set the phone down on the dining table.
“Did I interrupt your husband bashing?” Pain flickered in Derrick’s eyes, but his voice was low and heavy with his typical sarcasm.
Heat rose in my neck while my mind raced through what I had said, trying to think of a way to spin it so it didn’t sound bad. But there was no covering up the truth.
“Honey,” I murmured, trying to appeal to him. “Nannie wants us to come visit her and … she doesn’t understand why we don’t.”
Derrick threw down his briefcase and walked toward me with measured steps, his head cocked to one side. The intensity of his stare, the light perspiration on his forehead, the loosened tie around his neck … he’d had a drink before coming home. Probably more than one. I stepped back against the glass door.
“You know why you can’t see your precious little Nannie? Because she’s white trash, exactly like you. I don’t want that rubbing off on our daughter.”
I cringed at the familiar words—white trash. I had my mother to blame for the title. Here I was, caught talking about my husband behind his back. That’s not what good wives from respectable families did. Maybe I was no better than my mom. I focused on the ground and hunched my shoulders, trying to make myself disappear.
Cassie, you have to go now.
Derrick scowled, then turned and headed toward the kitchen. I heard the refrigerator door open, then slam shut. I forgot to stock his beer. I headed toward the pantry closet, but when I got there, Derrick had already grabbed a beer off the shelf. He popped the cap off, put it to his lips, and gulped it down. My stomach turned.
“I guess that’s what I get for coming home early.” Derrick laughed sardonically, and his eyes turned the calculating green I’d become all too familiar with. He brushed past me and strolled into the living room.
I was speechless. It was only 3:30. If he drank at his usual rate, he would be drunk long before Renee was in bed.
If I woke Renee from her nap now, I could put her to bed a little earlier. I’d make dinner early too. The food would help counteract the effects of the alcohol, and a well-prepared meal might help appease Derrick for the evening.
By the time dinner was ready, Derrick had downed a six- pack. He ignored me, and took intermittent breaks from the basketball game blaring from the television to play with Renee. She laughed as her dad tickled her or chased her around the room, pretending to be a bear while she was a rabbit. She was too young to care about the yeasty smell of beer on his breath, his slowed speech, or the ruddiness of his cheeks. To her, he was simply Daddy. The weight in my stomach grew.
Dinner went well. Derrick devoured the steak and potatoes but pushed his salad aside. I had no appetite. I glanced at the clock. 6:00 p.m. In one more hour I could tuck Renee in bed and steady myself for the imminent fight with Derrick. Maybe he would fall asleep too. For a moment I let myself imagine a quiet evening alone, curled up on the couch, watching an old episode of Friends. Then the phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and almost didn’t answer, but I couldn’t do that to my precious Nannie.
“Cassie, is everything okay? You hung up with such abruptness earlier. I couldn’t stop worrying about you and Renee. With Derrick’s temper …” Nannie’s voice was weary. She must have been overcome with concern to call when she knew Derrick might be home.
“Yes,” I lied, trying to keep my voice neutral. “Everything’s great.”
Derrick looked at me with narrowed eyes. “Who are you talking to?”
Derrick would see right through a lie, and even if he didn’t, he would check the caller ID as soon as I hung up.
“It’s … Nannie.”
Derrick’s cold glare was more effective than any words.
“Nannie, I need to go. Can I call you tomorrow?” The words rushed out of my mouth.
“What’s going on?” Nannie wouldn’t let the issue die. I shouldn’t have opened up to her. Someday I would learn to keep my mouth shut.
“Nothing. I just have my hands full.” I kept my eyes on Derrick. His jaw was clenched, and his glare had turned into a scowl. I needed to hang up. “Nannie, I …”
It was too late. Derrick darted over and grabbed the phone out of my hand before I could touch the “end” button. With his other hand he grabbed my wrist and yanked my arm behind my back. Sharp pain seared through my shoulder. I screamed and fell to my knees. Derrick’s voice was vehement as he spoke to Nannie. “If you really care about your granddaughter, then you should stop calling. Because every time you do, she’s going to pay for it.” Derrick slammed the phone down, ending the call.
My heart pinched at the vision of Nannie sitting alone in her room, worried about Renee and me. Ignoring the pain in my shoulder and my awkward position, I looked up at Renee, still sitting at the table with what was left of her dinner. She darted a leery glance at her dad.
Derrick leaned over me, pointing an accusing finger. “You need to tell your precious little Nannie to stop calling. If she doesn’t, I’m pretty sure I can make that feeble heart of hers stop beating for good.”
A chill bit deep into my bones. Renee wailed. She was old enough now to understand Derrick’s harsh words.
Derrick released my arm and placed his hand on the back of my neck, under my hair. He pulled on the layers of hair closest to my neck. I winced as my head was yanked back, now eye to eye with my husband.
“I won’t have my wife talk about me behind my back. You are replaceable.”
Renee cried louder. “Mommy! Daddy!”
Derrick let go of me and straightened. I fell on my hands, grateful for the release of the pain. Derrick turned to Renee, and spoke softly. “Quiet down, Pumpkin, everything’s okay.”
Renee shook her head and cried louder. Derrick’s fists clenched and his jaw tightened. I scrambled to my feet, ready to run to my daughter. Derrick was quicker. He reached for Renee and picked her up. Bile rose in my throat and my knees turned to water. “It’s okay, Sugar Bug.” I spoke as evenly as possible, though my voice was shaky, desperate to calm Renee.
My gaze was locked on Derrick’s clenched jaw, and I fought the urge to pull Renee from his arms. Any action from me would only make things worse. After a couple of moments, her crying ceased. Derrick’s face was once again soft, and his fists were no longer clenched. Renee was okay and Derrick was calm, but every nerve in my body still screamed danger.
“Let’s find a cartoon for you to watch while Mommy cleans up.” He spoke soothingly to Renee and gently brushed her tears away with his fingers. As the adrenaline subsided, my shoulder throbbed, and my head spun.
Derrick had never used such physical force with me. He’d held me against a wall and lifted his hand as if he would hit me, but he’d always stopped, and he’d never done such a thing in front of Renee. It wasn’t that long ago that he would have an outburst but regain his composure quickly, reassuring me with a hug or soothing words, as he had just done with our daughter.
After setting Renee on the couch and turning on a cartoon, Derrick marched over to me and leaned in close. I flinched instinctively. His eyes narrowed, and he motioned toward Renee. “See what you’ve done?” he whispered. “Some mother you are.” He continued down the hall, grumbling obscenities. I ran to Renee and put her on my lap, rocking her side to side.
Renee looked at me with solemn eyes. “Mommy, you shouldn’t make Daddy so mad.”
Her words stung. I remembered Nannie’s warning only hours ago. What was Renee learning from what she witnessed? How would it affect who she became? How long until Derrick’s anger with me boiled over and hurt our daughter?
Cassie, you have to go now.
A chill ran down my neck. I had nowhere to go.
I wanted to call Nannie back so she wouldn’t worry, but if Derrick caught me, it would only make things worse. I headed to the kitchen to clean up. When I was down to the last couple of dishes in the sink, I heard footsteps down the hall. Derrick had showered and changed into jeans and a t-shirt. His eyes were clearer, and his cheeks were freshly shaven, I turned my focus back to my task and ignored the pounding in my chest. Derrick entered the kitchen and stood behind me as I rinsed the skillet. I didn’t turn to face him. His breath was warm on my back, and I smelled the mint of mouth wash.
“Renee deserves better. You’ll probably leave her, like your whore of a mother left you.” Derrick’s mouth was so close to me, his lips grazed my ear as he spoke. I kept on task, ignoring the oft-used insult. My pulse beat in my neck, and a sharp, needle-like pain flared in my temples.
Derrick sneered. “That Nannie of yours is a piece of work. Your grandpa must’ve been one whipped little man.”
A growing, wild animal chained up inside me for too long was unleashed. I spun toward Derrick and screamed. The sounds that came out of me were guttural, full of rage. I slapped Derrick across the face with the wet dish cloth in my hand once, then again, before pushing him backward with all my strength.
“Enough!”
Derrick didn’t fight back. He laughed, looking past me and out the kitchen window. I raised my hand to slap him again and froze with my arm in mid-air. A flashing blue and red light reflected off the glass cupboard behind my husband.
The doorbell rang.

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