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She only visited in the summer. Karen was used to a large group for the annual feast; now it was just two.It suddenly occurred to her that many people were in the same boat as her. They had no one to celebrate with. Karen walked down her street, just the block both sides of her street. She asked the women there, if they wanted to have a neighborhood Thanksgiving celebration. She left a flyer in the door of any house where no one answered.In total, five houses responded. Karen would provide the turkey and stuffing. All the others committed to bringing the other foods.At noon, on the fourth Thursday in November, her guests started arriving. Edith had been a big help to Karen, getting the dining room table set and providing a relish tray. Together they greeted their neighbors as they came to the door.One of the guests was a woman of Vietnamese descent named Barbara Nguyen. She was about five years younger than Karen. With her were her fourteen year old daughter, Angie, and her three. She did not habituate to it and it did not fade into numbness.She gave her leg a little kick. The motion only intensified the pain in her upper joints.She wanted to start screaming for mercy and never stop.?Please,? she said.She had barely spoken above a whisper but the room fell silent.?Please stop. Please let me down.? Her quiet words seemed to echo.?Please stop?? There was a sarcastic sneer in Mary’s ghost’s voice. ?That’s what I said. I screamed it until my voice was hoarse. I begged for mercy. Begged for days. The white men laughed at my funny antics. Laughed like I was a clown, performing for their amusement.?No one in this room was laughing.?You know when they let me down?? the ghost voice asked. ?They let me down when they wanted to rape me. That’s when they let me down. When they wanted to spend the rest of the night raping me.?Different silences have a different quality. The silence in the room changed in some indescribable but definite way from fascination to shock. ?They.
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