I suspect when Stacy Brown first entered through the hallowed doors of Kinsman Hall, he entered them the same way everyone else entered them. He came into Kinsman Hall thinking he had been thrust into some bizarre episode of the Twilight Zone. That weird, sinking feeling always seemed to dissipate after the first few days when reality had time to set in and make Kinsman Hall and all its idiosyncrasies feel a little more like normal. By the time a person realizes resistance is futile and there is no way out, it usually made any person fiery mad and they were ready to act out, but when they realized they were trapped in the middle of nowhere with nowhere to go with a bunch of freaks and dried-out druggies, that’s when the Kinsman Hall method of doing things starts creeping in ever so slowly. It's like a setting sun. The warm rays would wash over you gently erasing yesterday and everything with it. Then the next morning when you would rise with that “I’ll show them” attitude, you couldn’t really remember what you were trying to show them and it didn’t seem to matter anymore! You would eventually attempt to start to blend in and to hope for redemption. It’s just the way it was! The indoctrination process was easier for some people than it was for others. But in Stacy’s situation blending in wasn’t exactly his forte. Some people are all about bucking the system!
Although it was highly discouraged to form cliques at Kinsman Hall or to belong to any, everyone belonged to them. A person couldn’t help but gravitate to their “people.” Stacy’s “people” were a few chosen ones from Connecticut, his home state and a special group of bad boys who seemed to stay in trouble all the time. Bernie McHugh, the ringleader, chief instigator and the most gregarious of the four, Rick Lawrence, Mike Orsini and Stacy kept staff more than busy dishing out outrageous punishments. It gave others like Scott Servisky, a low-key “Maineiac” a chance to grow his golden locks to his shoulders and breeze through the program as a shining example of what a role model resident looks and acts like!
Mike Orsini and Stacy could have passed for brothers they looked so much alike. Between the four, I don’t know who held the record for most shaved heads, but I think my money would probably lean towards Bernie because he was the most outrageous acting of the four. Sure, the rest of us wore stocking caps, got shaved heads, did contracts and wore object lessons, but somehow those four always seemed to manage to bring the heated wrath of staff down upon themselves all the time. Even minor infractions of the rules seemed to somehow erupt into major ordeals. Senior male staff members contrived punishments that could only be seen as nothing short of being sadistic or pure brutal torture in hopes of breaking their gang down by chipping away at their tough guy images and defenses. As they slowly chipped away at Stacy with repeated haircuts and outrageous punishments, eventually something snapped inside of him.
Once staff accomplished their mission of completely breaking Stacy, Stacy’s “people” no longer understood him because Stacy’s behavior changed so radically. He was no longer the “Stacy” they had accepted into their group. This left Stacy totally vulnerable, defenseless and on his own. Without his people, Stacy was broken and weak. He no longer wore that bad ass tough guy image like a well-polished badge of honor. He was a mere shell of himself. Stacy was unable to shake the humiliation and shame he felt by being made to wear a diaper. Essentially, it had stripped him of any dignity he had left. As he walked through the house clad as an infant, his eyes never met anyone else’s eyes and it was truly heart breaking to witness what staff had done to him. They had broken him and I wondered what else they planned to do with the shell they had created. It was obvious Stacy needed a friend.
It was shortly after the diaper incident when Stacy sought me out in the dining room when I decided to go on strike and stop working. Perhaps my “fuck it” attitude matched his total apathy and he felt it was safe to reach out to someone again. Or maybe I just looked like I needed some company! Maybe Stacy didn’t want to leave me defenseless in the dining room as I sat there trying to figure things out. I doubt staff would have tried any strong-arm tactics on a girl, but you never know! Nonetheless, Stacy accompanied me on my journey as I sorted out what I needed to do and for that I will always be grateful. Stacy gave me support when I needed it most. He sat with me when no one else would even at his own detriment. He paid a heavy price for showing me support but how I showed my gratitude was ambiguous even though my intentions were pure. But my intentions came with a pricetag that would hurt Stacy before all was said and done.
On my way upstairs, everyone kept remarking that they wish they were going too. I just shook my head in amazement and muttered under my breath about them being crazy. Why would anyone want to be sequestered and totally bored for days on end and then be confronted with all the worst dirt in their lives, torn apart emotionally and then thrown together long enough to beg for acceptance from someone? A marathon was about as much fun as a trip to the dentist without Novocain. At least with a trip to the dentist, a person gets numbed up before the pain begins. Here at the Hall, we took our pain straight up...shaken, not stirred! We grieved it away the Hepper way! If the humiliation each person was subjected to as each of our private lives were picked clean like the bones of some unfortunate road kill wasn’t bad enough, the begging for acceptance was done while a person was on their knees. The people who thought this shit up had to be a direct descendent to Marquis de Sade or someone equally sadistic.
When I returned to the dining room, the whole house was buzzing about the marathon. Apparently this one would be a little different from all the rest since it had people from all peer groups on the list plus a few staff members. I could handle being on equal terms with all on them for a week or so, but I wondered how they might feel about being stripped clean in front of the peons. It wasn’t until I walked up the path to the cabin talking to Bernie and Rick that I realized how many people were actually headed towards the cabin.
“This ought to be freaky having staff up here with us.”
“Hey B, you aren’t gonna believe this, but I think I see Mike Morra headed this way.”
“Oh yeah, that’s just what I need is for him to put my head in the toilet again as a way to let me know I’ve been accepted. This ought to be fun.”
“He’s not really all that bad. You two just rub each other the wrong way. Maybe you’re too much alike. You’re both attention whores.”
“Who are you calling a whore?”
“Ha! It takes one to know one and I ought to know.”
“You got that right, little sister.”
“Hey Rick, are you gonna protect B from Mike?”
“Just get in the door you little bitch and shut up.”
“Oh baby, I love it when you talk rough to me!”
“Now say thank-you, you putrid slimy slut!”
“Thank you and I love it just as much as I love you. And just to make you truly miserable, I’m gonna hang out with you two wonderful gents during this nasty little soiree.”
“Hey Rick, you haven’t said a word. What’s up?”
“I just don’t want to be up here.”
“Huh? Why not? You’d rather be washing dishes? You’re crazier that I thought.”
“Nah! It doesn’t have anything to do with being crazy. I’m just tired of being here period. I want out.”
B and I looked at each other and then in unison we said, “Oh and we love it here!”
Dean greeted us at the door by saying, “Stop whining both of you and get inside. We have a lot to do before bedtime tonight.”
Once inside we decided where everyone would sleep. Since there were fewer girls, we took the room next to the kitchen, a cozy room with no windows. It probably was made that way so no one could escape at night or have any clandestine meetings outside for a little fun in the woods. The guys would sleep out in the main room with the television, of course.
As the marathon began, everyone seemed to pair off into their peer groups. The dynamics were amazingly predictable. I’m sure Dean and Jack were watching closely and waiting to see if they would have to step in and break up the cozy little groups that had formed. Like most marathons, while people were going through therapy on the mat, everyone played cards, read and found quiet ways to entertain themselves around the perimeter until the person was ready to ask for acceptance.
It wasn’t long after the marathon began that the mingling began. B, Rick and I hung back and did our regular thing. We picked others apart and insulted each other. B and I were always putting each other up to doing naughty little things as a sort of game. Of course neither of us knew what direction the game was about to take. One afternoon when I was so bored I wanted to jump up and scream right in the middle of someone’s breakthough on the mat, I whispered to B to pick someone out for me to ‘hustle.”
Hustle?”
What do you mean?
You know what I mean...I mean I can get anyone in this room to be fall for me.
Rick, are you following this? This loser has an ego.
I love you too!
Go ahead and pick someone...anyone or are you afraid?
Okay, I pick him. He nodded in Bruce's direction.
B, he’s a staff member.
Oh, now she’s trying to skirm out of this.
You said anyone, didn’t you?
Well yes!
And you told me to pick anyone....right?
Okay! Okay! You don’t need to say anything else.
So what are you gonna do?
I’m not going to tell you. You’ll just have to watch me.
Over the next few days I thought about the situation and watched Bruce. I studied what he read, what he watched on TV and got close enough to him to listen to what he talked about without talking directly to him. Each day, B reminded me I hadn’t done anything and each day I told him that I’d handle it. I could tell how he looked at me, that he doubted that I was capable of making Bruce like me let alone fall head over heels in love with me. I knew it might be difficult for several reasons. We had a large age difference. I was only 17 and he was 26. He was on staff and I was just a resident. He wasn’t even in my peer group so I knew very little about him actually. This would have to be a crash course and probably not one of my finest moments, but I was confident I just needed to pick the right moment to make my move. Experience taught me that people who are patient always can find that right moment. Biding one’s time is a underrated skill. I can be patient when I need to be. And then it came to me... Perfect clarity! Yes! It all made sense! The perfect plan came to me! I had a solution to everything!
A few days later, I was tagged to start my therapy. This wasn't like a trip to the dentist, it was like getting your ass kicked outside the dentist's office and then being thrown in the front door to see the dentist smiling at you. As I lay on the mat, it all unfolded to me. No, not the right path in which to take my life, but how I could win the bet. Right now, the bet was all that mattered! When I “finished” my therapy and was told to ask the person in the room who I felt would least likely accept me as I am for acceptance, I reached out to Bruce. There I was, broken down, alone and needing acceptance. I looked at him as I was on my knees in the center of the room. I knew all eyes were on me especially Bernie’s. The room was silent awaiting the grand finale. I hesitated and looked down.
"Go ahead Karen. Ask someone for acceptance. You know who the person should be," Dean said.
I briefly glanced at Jack and then turned towards Bruce. I made sure we made eye contact while I asked him to accept me for the person I am. He rushed to me and held me close as the way one typically shows that they will accept the person. As he held me tight, but tenderly, I whispered, thank you and asked him to please not to let me go. He held me just a little longer before releasing me so each person could hug me. When Bernie grabbed me, he put his lips by my ear and said, “smooth move, you slimy punk!” Rick just chuckled when he hugged me and took the liberty of patting me on the ass like I had just made a touchdown. Everyone was happy and chattered away while I made my way back over to Bruce and asked him if he wanted to play chess later. I not only had won the bet, but in doing so Bruce stirred something in me by the way he held me so tenderly. He felt good pressed up against me and just for a moment I let myself believe that he actually did accept me for who I am. It wasn’t until later that I found out he actually had done just that and the stirring I felt had been a mutual one.
Bernie never knew I had had a talk with Mike Morra. Both Mike and Dean knew about my bet with Bernie. A relationship with Bruce had been given the go ahead by Dean but certain criteria had to be met by me. I had to stay away from Stacy and I had to go home after the marathon ended. Whatever else I did was up to me. Since I was going to be in a relationship with Bruce, I figured I'd give it a go and get to know him.
While in the Marathon Cabin, many things transpired. Rick grew restless and split for several days, but came back. The split team was never called out for him. Everyone was shocked when he returned on his own. He never received any type of punishment for splitting. From what he told us, he went to Canada for a few days. Nice vacation, Rick! I think things that happen in marathons are overlooked. I know Bruce and I got pretty outrageous throughout the duration and couldn't keep our hands off each other and nothing was said to us. Yes, he was a staff member, but I wasn't. He had confided in me that he was a virgin and that thought aroused me. All I could think of was us getting naked and convinced myself I couldn't wait until that time would eventually come. My hormones were kicking into overdrive.
As the seasons changed and summer became fall and fall became winter, the snow finally came and with it the trailer roofs became blanketed heavily with snow. During the winter, they needed to be kept shoveled off to keep them as free of weight as possible. Since we were in the Marathon Cabin nearest to the staff trailers and we were just laying around "doing nothing" all day, we got elected to do the job. Late one night while it was practically a blizzard, we went out to shovel off the roofs. The one I was on didn't take long to finish, but when it came time to get off the roof, everyone else simply jumped off into the snowbank. It was maybe a four or so foot jump into soft powdery snow, but I froze. I couldn't make myself jump. All of a sudden I realized once again I was afraid of heights and I just couldn't jump off the roof. I started to get an instant replay in my head of that day on the train trestle when Stacy helped me. Now, Stacy wasn't there! He'd never be there for me again! Everyone tried to coax me, but nothing anyone said mattered. Fear got the better of me. Finally, I was told that I would come down when I got cold enough and I did exactly that. It took a few hours for me to reason my way through my fear, but I eventually did it and I felt like a fool when I walked through the door a couple hours later to the sound of applause.
I don't know where I developed a fear of heights since I always climbed trees when I was a kid and I never had a problem with it. I never fell off anything. The first time I got frightened was when a group of us had been taken out for a walk by Carol Hepper then Carol Maass. We walked across the train trestle in back of the house. I was fine going across it, but coming back I made the mistake of looking down between the cross ties at the water below and I froze. I couldn't move! I was paralyzed. I had vertigo and had a panic attack on top of it. I had to be led off the trestle. There is nothing logical about fear when it grabs ahold of a person. No amount of persuading anyone to do anything simply does not matter. I felt sick. I was dizzy and could barely walk. My legs were like rubber and the spaces between the crossties kept moving. It was such a horrible feeling. All I remember is being hollered at that I needed to move because eventually a train would come along and standing in the middle of a train trestle wasn't where I needed to be when that happened. I suppose that person had a valid point. Stacy eventually got me off the trestle because I allowed him to take me by the hand and lead me off the trestle. He was my hero!
When the marathon finally ended, none of us believed it ever would end. Dean pulled me off to the side and told me not to screw it up. When he said that to me, I just looked at him and smiled. I never asked him what he meant by what he said to me, but I assumed he was talking about my relationship with Bruce since he was a staff member. Why would anyone think I would screw anything up? I often wondered if anything was ever said to Bruce. Did Dean pull Bruce aside and tell him to treat me right? Ha! If it was, he never said anything to me about it. As I walked back to the house, the reality of the situation hit me...I was going to have to deal with Stacy or maybe not. Maybe the situation had taken care of itself while I was in the marathon. Maybe someone had told Stacy about Bruce and I. Hurting anyone especially Stacy wasn't high on my priority list before I left Kinsman Hall and went home. Now, I had to keep my deal I had made with Dean and Mike. First, I had to stay away from Stacy and second, I had to go home. The first part I hated and the second scared the hell out of me. There was no turning back now.
Yes, Dean’s famous final words to me as we left the marathon cabin were, “Don’t screw it up! So here I am, I’ve sold out; I’ve drank the Kool-Aid. I've gotten involved with a staff member and now, I’m headed home finally….yippee and every time I looked at Stacy before I left, I felt like a fucking whore. I was actually ashamed of myself and avoided eye contact with him. He was always able to read me like a book and I often wondered if he knew what I had done, especially when things lightened up on him and the others. Oh, the tangled webs we weave!