(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Mature subject matter. Reader discretion is advised. 18+)
I am unable to remember exactly where Sydney’s camp was located. I do remember the drive there was over an hour’s drive away from my home in Kanata. I remember there had been several trees which surrounded her family’s campsite. I can also remember Sydney’s trailer vividly. Even though I was drunk for the first time at twelve years old. I can remember it like it was yesterday. Sadly, this day has been burned into my brain for the rest of my life, just like my time with ‘Necklace man’.
The way our minds tend to work fascinates me. I blocked out the sexual assaults so well that I didn’t realize how vivid my memory truly is. Is yours like that? I suspect it is when you really stop to reflect on your life. Your brain has a file cabinet for you to store all your information in. Press one button and you have access to it all.
Back to the camper. You would enter Sydney’s campground by a gravel road. Then a short driveway on your right. When you got out of the car you would walk up the side of the trailer on the same side as the driver’s side door to reach the front entrance. At the entrance of the trailer there were two metal steps which led to a metal screen door and an inner front door combination. Inside you would find a small couch budding up against the elongated trailer’s end wall and window on your right. You would also see a small table which acted as a television stand against the wall in front of you, closer to the built in sofa. Across from you and just slightly left of you within your peripheral vision, was a small countertop, cupboard space, and a small trailer sized stove. When standing at the front door entrance and slightly left, ahead of you, you would see countertop space, a sink with a window to look out from, and a decent sized fridge. When you look beyond the kitchen area, you would reach a narrowed space. To your left would be a small bathroom. To the right, and directly across from the bathroom, was a narrow linen closet. As you walked past the closet, you would reach a dining table on your right which could fold down and be used as a bed for two grown adults. Mr. Steinfelt had slept on that bed. Sydney and I slept on the bunk beds in the only bedroom. Sydney’s and her sister’s room where we slept was at the opposite end to where the sofa and tellie were located.
It was the Saturday night of the camping weekend. Sydney and I were sitting at the campfire talking about our adventures of that day. My favorite part was the boogie boards out on the lake. The lake was located about three trailers down the gravel hill from where their camper was located. I had fun on the water with Syd’s boogie boards. All my worries and stresses disappeared when I was in the water. I thought, “finally. I have a true friend for life. I am seen and accepted”.
To this day I enjoy sitting by water. Water is peaceful in my world. I consider bodies of water as a sacred place for me. Water soothes my body and my soul. It’s where I prefer to be when in deep meditative contemplation. I listen to the water and the beautiful inner voice and guidance inside my head whilst I breathe in the fresh air, and wonders of our natural world. This is heaven on earth in my mind. It’s my perfect spot to ask myself meaningful questions. When I go for walks in nature, I often receive intuitive answers to my questions as well. I hear a loving voice, who I identify as Clairity inside my mind, the loudest when mother nature is soothing my soul.
On that Saturday, Mr. Steinfelt had driven their boat whilst Sydney and I zoomed around the lake being pulled behind it. It was my first time riding on top of a board, on my belly, being tossed side to side as Sydney’s dad maneuvered in ways to knock us off. At one point Mr. Steinfelt became too aggressive. His sudden jerk of the steering wheel sent me flying into another camper’s dock. I got a little banged up. Not too big of a deal though. I dusted myself off quickly. I did refrain from going back on the board though. One bang up was enough for me.
Today, I can surely recognize Mr. Steinfelt’s reckless choice in driving. I sensed he did it on purpose back then. Today, my intuition tells me this is still the case. I will only come to know for certain after I have left this earthly experience for good. What I do know for certain is, Mr. Steinfelt’s decision to toss me in the water aggressively was a red flag for what was to come. Mr. Steinfelt’s moral compass was slightly water logged with a crack big enough to seep in more water.
Sydney and I were laughing and talking about boys whilst we made s’mores with the campfire. Sydney’s dad was inside the trailer during our girlie banter. After a while, he appeared from the trailer. He brought two tumbler glasses of red wine. One for Sydney and one for me.
“Here girls. Have some wine.” Mr. Steinfelt said, as he was handing each of us a glass.
“I don’t think I should drink this Mr. Steinfelt. No thank you.”
I knew the wine was alcohol. My mother used to complain about my dad’s heavy beer drinking. I didn’t care for the smell of beer. My dad had a bad habit of drinking about two and a half, twenty-four bottles of cased beer, weekly. My intellect was telling me not to. I knew if I drank the wine, I would be going against my parents trust in me.
“Think of it like a vacation away from responsibilities. Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” Mr. Steinfelt said with a wink and a smile.
I looked over at Sydney. She was sitting on a lawn chair just to the right of her dad. Sydney was already sipping the wine. She didn’t look my way. Sydney simply sat there. Gazing into the fire and quickly consuming her drink. In my mind, Sydney didn’t seem too bothered. It looked as though me having a small drink of red wine would be harmless. I was wrong.
After Mr. Steinfelt’s pleasant reassurance, I accepted the wine. I didn’t think about the possibility of me getting drunk when I did accept the wine. It was more a case of me not wanting to be rude nor be a party pooper. They were okay with it so I had to be okay with it to fit in, sort of deal. Adult pressure is harder for a child than peer pressure from other kids sometimes. At least for me that was the case.
Peer pressure comes in all shapes, sizes, and ages.
After about fifteen minutes or so of continued wine drinking, fire gazing fun, Sydney’s dad offered up a suggestion.
“Hey girls, wanna go inside and play some cards? We can play crazy 8.”
Sydney and I looked at each other, made a face, and in almost unison replied “sure. Why not.”
All three of us put away the lawn chairs by placing them back underneath the front door’s canopy. Then we all went inside. Inside, Sydney and I had sat across from one another at the folding table bed. It was reverted back into a seating area at that point in the evening. Mr. Steinfelt sat beside Syd.
Sydney’s dad asked in the form of a rhetorical question.
“Would you like a little more wine Clair?”
I say rhetorical because he had poured more wine into my glass at the same time that he had asked me the question. After, I don’t know how long, I became drunk. He may have spiked my drink? I truly wasn’t paying attention to him. I did have the awareness to place my hand on top of my glass the very last time Mr. Steinfelt had attempted to pour wine into it. I paid no mind to the amount of times Mr. Steinfelt topped me up prior to then. Nor did I pay attention to see if he put some other foreign substance into my drink. I was naively unaware of the danger I was in.
I was focused on our card game. When I did see Mr. Steinfelt from the corner of my eye, I covered my glass with my hand and said “No thank you” respectfully. Followed by, “I need to go to bed. I don’t feel so good.”
It was at that moment Syd and I retreated to the back room. Syd opted for the lower bunk. Leaving me and my woozy little buttocks on the top bunk.
After a while, the room started to spin. It was spinning so bad that I feared falling off of the top bunk. Sydney was fast asleep. Drooling on her pillow. She was gone to the world. Me, I could hardly sit up without having to hold onto something. I managed to get down the little ladder of the bunk beds. Not sure how I managed. I couldn’t see straight nor walk straight. All I could think to do was to move to the front couch so I could sleep. In my mind, the couch was lower than a top bunk. Safety measures, you know.
As I stumbled down the short little hallway, I saw Sydney’s dad sitting on the sofa. He was watching tellie on a wee little boxed television set. You know the kind you would see back in 1986? My stomach flopped when I saw him. I instantly wanted to retreat back to the little bedroom as I was holding the wall up.
“Can’t sleep?” Mr. Steinfelt asked.
“The room is spinning. I don’t feel so good.” was my putting it lightly response to Mr. Steinfelt’s inquiry.
Mr. Steinfelt was tapping his hand on the sofa beside him, whilst looking at me with a look of daddy-like concern.
“Come, lay here. You can place your head on my lap.”
I was instantly frightened. I knew I was in a predicament. I had little choice at that time in my mind. All I wanted to do was make the room stop spinning. I think he did drug me? I wish I actually knew.
I couldn’t sleep on the floor in Syd’s room. There was little space with all the clutter. The room was also quite tiny as well. I couldn’t sleep on the table bed. That’s where Syd’s dad slept. The sofa was all that was available. I was unnerved stumbling towards him. At the same time, relieved to get back down into a laying position. I must have passed out for a few minutes as I laid there with my head upon Sydney’s father’s lap. My plan was to remain alert long enough to see Sydney’s father go to bed. No such luck.
I was startled awake with Mr. Steinfelt’s hands inside my pajama pants and underneath my panties. He was fondling my vagina. I froze at first. I was in shock. I didn’t stop him right away. I was too busy thinking about ‘Necklace Man’ and the teenager from way back in the day. I was being physically abused in that present moment and abused in the past inside my mind, all at the exact same time. After I snapped out of the shock, I had pretended I was dreaming so I could close my legs and roll over. When I started to move, Mr. Steinfelt removed his hand from my pants. He stayed there for a few minutes. Pretending to watch television. After, what seemed like an agonizing long time, probably five minutes or so, Mr. Steinfelt got up. He had retreated to his bed. I waited another five minutes or so before I decided I couldn’t trust sleeping there any longer.
I sobered up pretty fast after that incident. As I walked past Mr. Steinfelt, headed towards Syd’s room, I looked at him leaning up against his pillow on his bed. I looked him right in the eyes as if to say “I know what you did.” He looked at me as if to say “oh shit. She knows what I did.” I didn’t say a word. I went back into Sydney’s room, closed the door, and curled up into a fetal position on her floor. I slept there the remainder of the night.
I woke up before anyone else the next morning. I didn’t want to be there. With water being my refuge, I decided to go down to the beach, whilst Sydney and her father slept. As I replayed the nightmare of an experience the night before in my head, I rocked back and forth on a 2×4 wooden plank. I was so deep in thought that I hadn’t realized I had stepped on a heavy rusted construction nail.
The nail was sticking out from the wood about a quarter length from the end of the wooden plank. My feet kept inching wider and wider apart. As they inched apart, my foot landed on the spike of the nail. The nail was so long that it went through the sole of my shoe, into my foot, out the other side of my foot, and beyond the top of my shoe. I have the scar on the top of my foot which acts as a stark reminder of this day. Another permanent scar left behind from a nightmarish experience with a mentally sick man.
Sydney was making her way towards me that morning when she announced “we have to start getting packed up. We have to head out soon.”
I was relieved that we had to go. I was agonizing over the idea of telling Sydney about what had happened. Her telling me that we had to go made things simple. There was no private time to tell her, so, I kept it quiet.
I acknowledged Syd, then went to move from my spot. I was stuck.
“Uh Syd, my foot is stuck.” I exclaimed.
“What do you mean your foot is stuck?”, Syd yelled with a sense of confusion.
” My foot! I can’t move it!”, I exclaimed with the same confusion.
I looked down at that moment, only to see a wee little spike sticking out of the top of my shoe.
“Holy shit! I stepped on a nail!” I said with horror and curiosity at the same time.
I didn’t feel any pain. I only felt stuck. I used Sydney’s shoulder for support as I slowly pulled my leg up to release my foot. The drop to the ground pain I felt the first moment I took a step on that foot has no words. My God it hurt.
Sydney helped me limp back to the campground. I could hardly put my foot down on the ground. With each press of my heel, I felt a stabbing pain pierce me, not to mention the blood pouring out of the hole. That was something else.
Syd and I had explained what happened with the nail to Sydney’s father when we had arrived back at the trailer. Mr. Steinfelt felt it best we hurry home in the event I would need a tetanus shot. I bet Syd’s father had a slight sigh of relief thinking, “distraction from my travelling fingers. Woohoo!”.
Mr. Steinfelt had hardly said two words to me that day. He went back to his normal nice distance. The rest of the details of that weekend and how my foot was treated is a blur. I truly cannot remember.
I was exhausted after visiting that life altering rabbit hole inside my mind whilst Bill was driving me back to Fredericton from Rosie’s. All I wanted to do was minimize myself enough to where I could disappear from people’s view. I dosed in and out of sleep for the rest of the drive from Montreal to Fredericton. I had awoken about thirty minutes away from Fredericton. Bill and I had made it to Liv’s without further incident.
Before I end this entry I would like to mention the fact that I am so pleased you decided to join me through this doorway in my mind. Again, just like with ‘Necklace man’, this is my first time offering up this much detail about this experience to anyone. You, reading this now, know more than my family, or anyone else who has been in my life, when it comes to Mr. Steinfelt and Sydney.
There is a reason, a purpose for sharing this story. With the help of this experience, I am incredibly empowered today. How does a person move past an experience similar to this one? How does a person overcome shame of being a predator or a victim of sexual assault and violence? Those are questions I asked the voice inside my mind. I received an incredible response and have every intention of sharing it with you, in time.
LivWithClairity 