The Truth Bench
Originally posted on August 15, 2007. Story concept and photos by Clara in OR, story by Clara, edited by me.
Eli: What is this thing again? It doesn't look very comfortable.
Cassandra: It's an old Puritan Truth Bench. They used it in their schools when they thought a child was being untruthful. A student would have to sit on it, in front of the entire classroom, until he or she was willing to confess to whatever atrocity they may have committed. Legend has it that it still holds power over people to this day and that it's impossible to sit on it without spilling your guts.
Eli: Nice way to talk, Tiny! But I think I need some convincing. Let's give it a try. I get to grill you first.
Cassandra: (loftily) I have nothing to confess, Eli. As you know, I am always on the straight and narrow.
Eli: Just humor me, Ms. Perfection.
Cassandra: Certainly. I have nothing to hide.
Eli: Indeed. You ready for this then? Tell me - truthfully - Ms. Godard, do you really object to being called “Tiny?”
Cassandra: Yes I do! (as Eli begins to shake his head) Except for…. when you say it. Then it’s kind of sweet.
Eli: Uh-huh……. So tell me this: at what exact moment did you first realize that I was the manly man of your dreams?
Cassandra: (snorts) The manly man? Let me see now... when would that have been? Thinking, thinking....
Eli: (teasing) Come on, Cassandra. You must have some idea. Surely you can recall the time that my “lovely, brooding face” or my “intensely sexy eyes,” or my “luscious lips begging to be kissed” first bowled you over completely….
Cassandra: (soberly) Honestly Eli, the truth is, I don't think I can pinpoint the exact time. I was so busy working to deny how I felt about you, I'm not sure when I truly knew how much I cared. For a long time, I didn't even think I was capable of truly caring for anyone.
Eli: Aw, come on, Tiny. You’re a real caring person. Anyone can see that.
Cassandra: You know, I haven't talked about my background much, but now I think I’d better tell you a few things. I think I mentioned that my family was fairly affluent. My parents are very much tied into the lifestyle that their money can provide. My father is a CEO of a well-known electronics company and my mother spends her days presiding over various charity events that mean nothing to her, and moving in her social circles.
Eli: Doesn’t sound so bad. A lot of people would envy that.
Cassandra: Not if they lived it - in my family, that is. My family lacks something very important - a real caring for each other. I don't believe my parents love each other. Mother is beautiful and loves the lifestyle that my father's job allows her; she has obliged him by being the perfect trophy wife. Everything my parents have ever done is devoted to maintaining their lifestyle and social obligations - even to the point of having children. Did they have children because they loved and wanted them? No, they had children because it was the socially acceptable thing to do and would enhance their social status.
Eli: So did it work for them? Did it make them more “important?”
Cassandra: Probably. And I obliged them by being the perfect “trophy” daughter. I studied hard in school, joined all the right clubs, only dated guys who met their idea of “worthy.” But the truth was, Eli, those guys left me cold. And all it took for me to end a relationship with any of them was the knowledge that they were becoming too emotionally attached to me. Of course, some of them ended things with me too - because I refused to get too close to them - in every way.
Eli: (teasing) What? You didn’t ask them nosy questions? Didn’t dig through their heads trying to put them into categories? You mean you saved that especially for me?
Cassandra: Very funny, Big Guy. But don't you understand? For years I lived in fear that I was like my parents. Unable to form any close attachments - except with Marty Jean. It's no wonder she ran away when I left for college. Left alone with them without me - I can't imagine what she had to endure. Because she was the one that disappointed them in every way. She was the one who wasn't good enough and had to live with their constant urging to "be more like Cassandra".
Eli: So, am I like a delayed rebellion or something? Is that why you hightailed it clear across the country - to take up with someone your folks wouldn’t approve of? Exactly why did you come to West Virginia, Cassandra?
Cassandra: I…. wanted to prove to myself that it wouldn’t be any different with you. You attracted me in a way that no other guy ever had, but I was still sure that history would repeat itself. Or maybe....
Eli: Maybe what?
Cassandra: Maybe I was hoping that the attraction I felt for you would develop into more, and prove to me that I wasn't like them ….after all.
Eli: So… not such a failure after all, huh? Your trip? You proved something really important to yourself, and you sure convinced me.
Cassandra: I don’t know, Eli…
Eli: You’ll never prove to me that you’re like them, Cassandra. The failure of a couple relationships doesn’t mean anything. Only shows that “worthy” isn’t what it takes to make it right. But I don’t think just talking about it is the best way to convince you that you’re not cold or unfeeling…
Eli: I think a little hands-on demonstration is a better way to go, don’t you?
Eli: You were right - this truth bench works real well. But somehow……. I doubt the Puritans had this in mind……