The New Law Protects Me

Shawna was surprised and a little disappointed that her mother was holding together so well while confronting her about the emails from and to Rik. But as soon as she tried to speak, Shawna cut her off. "Get out of my room and leave me alone!" she wailed. She had never ordered her mother out of her room before, but Destiny had urged her to stand up for herself. "I'm leaving, but you definitely are not," Stevie snapped, squaring her shoulders. "You stay right here until your father arrives."

Shawna slammed the door as her mother left. Destiny hadn't said anything about how to handle her dad; Destiny didn't even know who her dad was. It doesn't matter what Dad says, Shawna coached herself as she thought Destiny might. Mom violated my privacy and damaged my personal property. Destiny said that the new law protects teenagers from such things. My school counselor said the same thing. I can live anywhere I choose. I can even live with Rik if I want to—maybe not right away, maybe after I explain everything to him. But I don't have to live here anymore. When Mom thinks I'll leave, she'll let me do what I want.

Following Destiny's Advice

Shawna felt stupid for forgetting to password-protect her email that morning. She could almost hear Destiny mocking her: "What a dork! You fell from the top of the stupid tree and hit every branch on the way down!" What bothered Shawna even more was the look of shock and disappointment in her mother's eyes. But she knew Destiny would really rag on her if she backed down now.

Shawna lashed out at her mother venomously. "You have no right to snoop into my private things. You have no right to steal things out of my room and destroy my belongings. I'm not your slave. I'm a person, and I have rights. You violated my rights!" It took only seconds for her to work up a good cry. Her little brother Collin, who by now was watching bug-eyed from the doorway, was also tearing up at the conflict.

Misdirected Guilt

In reality, Shawna had a very good idea why the monitor had been taken, but she could not imagine her mother going so far as to purposely destroy it. In the midst of her confusion about her mother's actions and her anger at having her monitor destroyed, Shawna felt a slight stab of guilt about her on-line romance with Rik being exposed. But Destiny had coached her never to admit to anything in front of her mother. "Do what you want, and don't let her hassle you," her friend had advised. "She's only human. You know she must be hiding stuff from you and from your dad and from her clients and from the IRS. So if she pressures you, scream bloody murder about your rights being violated. And if she doesn't give in, well, you know how to get what you want." Shawna envied Destiny's freedom to do what she wanted at home.

Stomping back to the bedroom where her mother stood waiting, Shawna screamed, "Why did you do this to me?" To her surprise, her mother apologized for "overreacting," then calmly described how she found the "pornographic" correspondence with Rik.

Blaming Mom

Shawna's eyes opened wide. She could tell her mother had been crying. But about what? The computer? Had it been stolen? Had her mother taken it for some reason? Shawna's breath caught in her throat. Suddenly she knew exactly what had happened.

Immediately going on the offensive, Shawna put her hands on her hips and cried, "You took it, didn't you? What have you done with it? I want it back!"

Stevie held her hand up. "Hold it," she said, her voice firmer than it had been a moment earlier. "Yes, Shawna, I took your computer monitor. I took it out to the garage to store it for a while, but—". Shawna pushed past her mother and ran to the garage. When she saw what was left of her computer, which was lying in pieces on the garage floor, Shawna wailed in feigned disbelief and innocence.

We Need to Talk

It had been a frustrating day for Shawna. The teachers were always on her case, nagging her about being late for class, not turning her homework in on time, and a million other nit-picky things. When she had seen her mom sitting in the living room, it was obvious she was waiting for something—or someone—probably her. Whatever her mother wanted to discuss with her, Shawna was in no mood to hear about it.

That's when she saw the empty space on her desk where her computer monitor should have been. She looked around her room in disbelief. How could something like a computer monitor disappear? Where could it be? How. .. ? What... ? Her mom. It had to have something to do with her mom. That must be what she had been waiting to talk with her about. Shawna reached out and was just about to fling open her door and go charging out to confront her mother when she heard a knock. "Shawna? May I come in?" The door opened slightly. "We need to talk," Stevie said, poking her head into her daughter's room.

Committed to What?

Jon agreed to help his ex-wife talk to their 14 year old daughter about the vulgar, sexual emails to and from a guy named Rik who was in his 20's. Stevie, dreading the conversation, said, "I'm sure Shawna will be in her room ranting and raving at the empty space where her computer monitor once sat." Upon hearing Stevie's lightened tone, Jon smiled in spite of the situation. If their tragic experience with their son's overdose had done anything for them, it had made them more resilient. Stevie would get through this episode all right, and so would he. Jon hung up the phone and rubbed his forehead. There was more to deal with here than just Shawna. Stevie had turned to him for advice and consolation, something she had done only a few times since the split. Jon could not deny that such expressions of need stirred up the guardian and protector in him. Only fourteen months earlier they had renounced their commitment to each other. If those commitments were truly ended, Jon wondered why, at moments like these, there was not more distance between him and his ex-wife.

I Need Some Help

"I'm afraid I overreacted," Stevie said, sounding defeated. If only I'd stayed calm—". Stevie's ex-husband Jon interrupted, trying to console her, "It was a natural response. If I'd come across those filthy emails between Rik and Shawna I'd probably have done the same thing—or worse." "I'm her mother, but how am I supposed to deal with this situation? I have to confront Shawna about her involvement with this Rik person, but all she's going to want to talk about is her ruined computer." "Deal with it just like we taught the kids," Jon said. "'When you mess up, 'fess up and make it right.' That's what we always told them, didn't we? So you apologize for what happened to the computer because of your overreaction, then move on to the real issue." Stevie responded with a silence that communicated volumes. Jon had been with her enough years to know exactly what she wanted. Finally, he asked, "Do you want me to come over later and talk to her?" "Yes, please," Stevie said immediately. "This is a big deal, and I'm in over my head emotionally. I think we both need to be involved. Shawna will be home any minute. How soon can you be here?"

Telling the Ex

Jon, Stevie's ex-husband, had another harrowing day on the high school campus. He had talked two girls out of slashing each other with razor blades and called in the cops on another kid who had been suspended but refused to leave the campus. Drugs, weapons, and gang activity on campus injured kids every week. Jon sometimes thought about changing his resume to read "prison guard" instead of "school counselor." He was just leaving his office when the phone rang. There was no greeting, just, "I messed up, Jon. I really messed up." “What do you mean, Stevie?” Jon asked. His ex-wife, who was clearly upset but thankfully not hysterical, took a breath and summarized Rik's messages, including samples of his vulgarity. Jon felt his skin flush with anger and the anger turned to bitter bile in the pit of his stomach. Self-control was one of his strengths, but he realized that this jerk named Rik was lucky not to be alone in the same room with him at that moment. Jon's disappointment congealed into an impromptu prayer. Dear Jesus, how could my little girl get involved with a creep like Rik? Where is this foul language coming from? What else does she know about love and sex? What has she actually experienced? She's only fourteen.

Mom Has Gone Crazy

Awash in anger, remorse, and self-condemnation for reading her daughter's emails, Stevie reached behind the desk and, with shaking hands, scooped up the computer and carried it, cords dangling, until she had more time to consider her next move. For now, she knew only that she had no intention of allowing this disgusting email "romance" to continue. Still shaking, she turned, tripped over one of the dangling cables, and the computer shattered as it hit the floor. Stevie gasped. She had meant to remove Shawna's computer, but certainly not to destroy it. Now what would she do? Trembling, she collapsed into a chair in front of the fireplace, and began to weep. The last several minutes had seemed like a bad dream. But having experienced the same feelings countless times after Dougie's death, she knew this was not a dream. And the situation was not going to go away. Shawna would walk through the doorway in twenty minutes, and Stevie had no idea what she was going to say to her.

Shawna's Reply

Every email from Rik—including the most offensive ones—was followed by a reply from Shawna. Shawna's terminology was not as raw as Rik's, but Stevie was appalled at the suggestive words and phrases her daughter had used to stoke the fire in her perverted suitor. Most disturbing was the realization that Rik was in his twenties, and that he was the one with whom Shawna had intended to rendezvous at camp. Having read every word in the folder, Stevie pushed the chair back from the desk. She felt dirty inside and out, violated, as if Rik's blatant overtures had been directed at her. She also felt terrified for Shawna, who was still a naive child, clueless to the danger of encouraging perverts like Rik. Stevie was stunned by the realization that she had unwittingly facilitated the sordid tryst by encouraging Shawna's computer literacy.

Email from Rik (continued)

Stevie forced herself to read the love letter addressed to Shawna, a graphically suggestive love letter. The grammar and spelling were atrocious, but the message was clear. Using the crudest terms of the street, Rik described what he would do to please Shawna sexually and how she could please him. Stevie felt as if she had just witnessed the seduction and rape of her teenaged daughter. And she was enraged that the perpetrator had committed the act in her own home, in Shawna's own room. With trembling fingers, she opened another message from Rik, then another, and another. The earliest entries were playful and flirtatious, typical of romantic banter between a junior high boy and girl. But the last half-dozen messages were as vulgar and sickening as the one that had arrived that morning.

Email from Rik

Stevie had inadvertently jostled her daughter's computer mouse, revealing messages to and from Rik. They were probably as inane and harmless as all the others from Shawna's friends, Stevie thought. Yet as much as she wanted to trust Shawna, the incident at camp had alerted her that the girl was quite capable of deceit. Stevie wasn't about to lose another child through ignorance or neglect. A quick look at a couple of messages would surely disarm her fears. She reached for the mouse and clicked on the latest message from Rik. Stevie was not prepared for what appeared. Several of the words on the screen assaulted her before she even started reading the message. Vile words, unspeakable words. An involuntary groan leaped into her throat, as if someone had rammed a fist into her stomach. Forcing herself, she read the text line by line. (to be continued)