To Solace or to Silence: Stories

By Mercedes Rosalsky

Interweaving love, injustice, and anguish, Mercedes Rosalsky explores the true roots of the relationship between men and women today.

In "Not in Silence," a student is sexually assaulted by a professor and denounces him. Will she receive justice? In "Three Acts of Treason," a male counselor molests a young patient, and she lets her mother know. Can her mother protect her? In "The Breakage," a father abandons his young daughter when she falls ill. Will she survive? In "The Yellow House," an old woman seeks revenge after being raped. Will she find it?

Taking place in Puerto Rico and moving back and forth between the fictional town of Las Cascadas and the Old San Juan, "To Solace or to Silence: Stories" explores the affections and betrayals to which women are continuously exposed. The trust between the genders can fracture in a second.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jun 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781098365424

Book preview

Not in Silence

I

I carefully climbed the rickety stairs to the fourth floor of Jorge Gaitan Hall, where the Department of Archeology was located. I was studying for my Masters Degree at University of San Esteban in the city of Las Cascadas. Professor Eduardo Carrillo, my thesis director, was waiting for me.

I had just collected more data on the excavation of the Taíno Ruins of the Búho Park in town. I was disappointed and couldn’t really understand the new findings. That’s why I wanted to discuss everything with Eduardo. I had already worked with him for three months.

At forty-three I was building a new life for myself after my two sons left to study in the United States. I felt lonely. My long, black hair and slim, jeans clad figure gave me a youthful look. My husband, Sebastián Carraza, was a professor in the department. Ten years my senior, he still had a fit body and a bright mind that was acknowledged by all the faculty. Always obsessed by his research, he worked very hard.

It was ten in the morning when I arrived to Eduardo’s tiny office. The door was open and I saw him there, sitting at his desk, engrossed in a magazine with the recently knocked down World Trade Center in its cover. The place was piled up with white plastic boxes where he kept bone samples. Everything was dusty. Two open wooden boxes sat in a corner, in front of the file cabinet, showing its contents: several sets of excavation brushes worn down by use. I knocked in the door, he greeted me and positioned a chair besides his, in front of the computer. I sat by his right. There was barely any space. I got the CD with the data out of my purse and we started to examine them. He soon showed enthusiasm.

Pointing at the numbers in the screen, he talked, and patted my shoulder in emphasis. He always did that and it made me feel uncomfortable but I didn’t know how to tell him.

I peeked at him. The skin in his face looked like leather. His hair was longish and graying. A big man, his belly stuck out over his belt. He looked about fifty, maybe more. I knew his wife, Nilda. She was Peruvian and a professor of French at the university.

Marcela, the bone fragments that you found appear to be human, he said. Let’s send them to the lab.

The lab is backed-up, overloaded with work.

Well, we’ll wait. I think the fragments are from this part of the hip, he said, placing his hand on my hip.

I tensed up and shifted uncomfortably. He had never done that before. Maybe it was just a way to point out the structure of the bones. I couldn’t be anything else. I’ve known him for two years, when he first entered the department. He had a good reputation both professionally and personally.

What’s up? he asked, caressing my upper arm.

No, nothing, I said. I have to go. I have a class in a few minutes.

I moved my arm to shake his hand off.

Well, we’re almost done, he said.

He took a lock of my hair and brushed it to my back.

This couldn’t be happening. He and my husband were colleagues. We knew his wife.

Please give me back the CD. I have to go, I said.

He gave me the disk and I grabbed my purse which I had left over his desk. I got up and he got up behind me, brushing my buttocks. Shoving aside some of the boxes, he rushed to the door and closed it. Then he just stood there, looking at me. Scared, I headed toward the door hoping I could quickly open it and get out. He didn’t let me. He grabbed my shoulders and pull me toward him.

No, Eduardo! Let go of me! I said, trying to shake myself off his grasp.

He pulled me further toward him and tried to kiss me.

What is this? Let go of me! I insisted, now in a panic.

I pushed him. He grabbed me by my waist and crushed me against him. He grabbed my purse and threw it on the floor.

No! Let go of me! I kept repeating and pushing him back.

Marcela, aren’t you interested in your thesis? I’ve seen the way you look at me. You’ve been wanting this for a long time. I’m giving you what you want, he said, heaving.

I tried to scream, but he put his hand over my mouth. I bit it. Furious, he grabbed my shirt and yanked it off me in one pull. I fell on the floor, half naked since I wasn’t wearing a bra. He threw himself over me. I kicked him while he tried to kiss my breasts. He was crushing me. Struggling, I freed one of my arms. I tried to scream again but my mouth was very dry. I could barely shout. My loose hand scratched on something and I felt a splinter dig in. It was the box of old brushes I’ve noticed before. I grabbed it and hit him hard on the head. He stiffened, then moved his body to the side, grabbing his head. I got up quickly, opened the door and, half naked, ran away.

I don’t know if there was anybody in the hallway or if anybody saw me. My only goal was to reach my husband’s office on the second floor of the same building. Sebastián was in, thanks God. He opened his eyes wide, in shock at seeing me half naked. I sat, panting, on a chair across his desk. The hum of his computer sounded like the roar of an animal. The blue walls of his office pushed on me. The finger with the splinter was burning. There was blood in my hand.

What happened? Sebastian kept asking, agitated. He took off his jacket and put it over me.

In a gush, I told him everything while he stared at me, incredulous.

Had he touched you before? he asked.

Sometimes he patted my shoulder.

Terrified, I thought Sebastián might be blaming me. He suddenly got up.

How can it be that that asshole tried to rape you? He must be crazy! I’m going to his office right now! Stay here! he screamed and headed out. I rushed after him. I’ve never seen him so furious.

What are you going to do? Please tell me what are you going to do! I kept repeating desperately.

We ran up the stairs and got to Eduardo’s office in seconds. The door was closed and locked. Sebastián kicked it open. Eduardo was sitting at his desk, holding bloody pieces of paper towel to his head. Upon seeing us, his face turned gray.

You, son of a bitch! Sebastián shouted.

Eduardo let go of the pieces of paper towel, pushed his chair backwards and raised his arms up, as if surrendering.

Nothing really happened, he said.

Are you deranged? Sebastián shouted, going around Eduardo’s desk, ready to pound on him.

Sebastián, please, don’t do anything crazy! I implored.

Sebastián stopped and closed his fists, veins bulging at his temples. Standing by the door, I trembled.

"This isn’t the end of this! I’m going to send all the authorities after you, cabrón, you bastard!" roared Sebastián.

Eduardo just sat there with a pained face, asking us to calm down. His right ear was bleeding.

Let’s go! Sebastián shouted at me. I grabbed my purse and my torn shirt, which I had left there, and ran after him.

A group of students stared at us down the hallway. We rushed down to Sebastián’s office.

I’m going to fuck him up! he kept repeating. I wanted to cry but couldn’t. Instead, I felt dizzy. Guilt overwhelmed me. I thought of Eduardo patting my shoulder for the last three months. I should have known something strange was going on.

We stayed there for a long time. I think neither of us could believe what had happened.

Take me home, please, I said, finally.

He took me home. I asked him to stay with me but he didn’t. He had two classes to teach that afternoon. I was left terribly alone.

I sat in my rocking chair trying to calm myself down. I didn’t know what else to do. The whole scene kept repeating itself in my mind. I went to bed and laid down in a fetal position. That’s how Sebastián found me when he got back home. The room was dark, it was already nighttime.

Marcela, how are you? I’ve been thinking that you should go to the ER, he said, sitting beside me in the bed.

No! I don’t want anybody to touch me! Now you’re worried, after leaving me here, alone.

I had two classes to teach! You’re in shock. You should see a doctor.

I don’t want to move.

What do you want to do?

Nothing. I don’t know.

We should call the police and inform the university of what happened.

No! They’ll blame me! I said.

Blame you? What are you talking about?

I don’t want to make any decisions now, please. I feel dirty. I’m going to shower. We’ll talk tomorrow.

We didn’t have dinner that night and slept badly. We got up late. It was Saturday.

Marcela, we have to inform the university of what happened, he said at breakfast. We can accuse Eduardo of sexual assault, sexual harassment or both. He’s dangerous. I’m going to look in the university’s website for its regulations in these cases.

I don’t want to think, I said.

Well, I’m going to find out.

He sat at the computer in the kitchen. After a while I sat by him, in silence.

What do you want to accuse him of? he asked.

What requires the least effort?

Marcela, he was going to rape you! That’s a serious crime! We should make sure he gets punished. I want to fuck the hell out of him!

"I don’t