Domination

Jenny lets herself down onto the train seat with a sigh of relief. It’s been a hard day, a long one as well. It is well past 11pm and she is relieved to be on her way home. Also glad that she has found a quiet seat, in a corner of the train carriage. It’s dark and chilly outside. The city lights twinkle. But she is too tired to appreciate them. All she wants is to get home, a hot shower and sleep.

Life is easier now. It’s been three years since her wrenching divorce. She has got her life back together. She is into a routine with a stable job at a Melbourne CBD gym. She likes it there. The managers and owners, Lynn and James, are aware of her background and hugely supportive, while her clients seem to appreciate her. The additional benefit is that it helps to keep her fit and her mind off her personal issues.

As the train leaves Flinders station, clickety-clack, she begins to drop off with the rhythm. Suddenly, she feels a harsh nudge and push.  Then a sharp, strong whiff of alcohol. Her heart catches; adrenaline spikes; anxiety klicks in.

Ha ha look who’s here. None other than the one who thinks she is God’s gift to humanity. He is slurring, obviously drunk. She shrinks into the corner, closes her eyes and wishes him away.

Please God, not again. Have I not had enough? She pleads silently.  

He slaps a rough hand on her thigh accompanied with another guffaw. She recoils in disgust and fear. Memories of old surface - the beatings, the abuse, the manipulation and exploitation. The sleepless nights, spent in constant fear of another assault. The waste of all her hard earned wages, week after week, till she could go on no more. She fled and sought refuge in a Brunswick home for women coping with domestic violence.  It had been a long, but determined recovery, from both the physical and psychological trauma, built up over five years of a deeply unhappy marriage to a monster.  It was the kind, gentle support of the nuns at the Centre that got her over the hill. She will be forever grateful.

But all this is just a flashback. She shudders. Nausea and fear now ride up to her throat; she is in immediate and present danger.

He thrusts a hand around her shoulders and pulls her to him. How is my delicate darling?

His proximity and breadth revolts her. He is shoddily dressed, unshaven, red eyed. It appears he is still without a job and on welfare. There are a few other passengers sprinkled around in the compartment. They look on wide-eyed, some taken aback at his behaviour. But none looks to intervene, unable or unwilling to jump to her assistance.

She realizes she is indeed on her own. Her defences kick in. She remembers her determination to never again be frightened by the physical threat of men. The hours and hours she has devoted to training herself in self- defence now come to the fore. She has, with the help of Lynn and James, specialized in martial arts defence techniques particularly appropriate for women.

She leaps up from her seat, backs away and says – Carl, I don’t want any confrontation. You know I am done with you. You are under police orders to stay away from me. Please do not come near me again.

With heart thumping overtime, she walks down the train compartment, watched warily by the others, and finds another corner.

He laughs, a hoot, and follows her, swaying with drunkenness and the movement of the train.

Come on love. You always had a soft corner for me. Admit it. Come back to papa, let’s go to my place tonight for old times’ sake, and we will make it happen again. I promise you won’t be disappointed.

The train jerks, he plunges forward and almost lands in her bosom. He grabs her face. She screams – Get off me, you creepy bastard.

She pushes him off as hard as she can and he lands on his butt on the floor. Other passengers close by get up and hurriedly scurry away to other seats.

What is it about these Melburnian inner city folks, she thinks; have they no gumption to help a defenceless woman?

The push back shakes him up. He is taken aback by her aggression; humiliated by his crash to the floor at the hands of someone he has so easily bullied in the past. His eyes turn wild, the look Jenny is so familiar with, the anger-crazed face she had come to hate.

On her part, Jen’s fear is suddenly replaced by anger and indignation at the audacity of his attack in a public place, and exasperation at the unwillingness of her fellow passengers to help. She explodes within. She is aflame with anger, determined not to submit. Her training informs her - calm down; stay focused; still the mind; breathe; be ready because he is not going to give up. Concentrate on his weak points.

He picks himself up shakily, struggling to stand in the unsteady train. This time he collects himself, seeming to say – I am going to teach you a lesson. He lunges forward, fist bunched and aimed at smashing her face. She moves with speed, her head dodges his fist and it crashes into the compartment wall behind her. He howls with pain. He is now incensed.

She slides off the seat, stands with feet apart, her defence position. The hours of training, the fitness she has acquired while working out with her female clients, now kick in. As he turns her fist shoots out like a piston; she uses her index and middle fingers together to strike the soft hollow spot below Carl’s larynx and above the collar bones. He chokes and gags. At the same time, she launches her right foot, in a tightly disciplined power kick deep into his crotch.

He howls again, sags; he can’t believe this is happening to him. He is now on his knees, holding his groin in pain, shaking his head to clear it from the shock of her fist blow. She then kicks him in the face with disciplined, targeted force. He goes sprawling again.

Is that enough, Carl, or do you really want a fight. She knows how unfit he is. He is big, but fleshy, with fat bulges around his waist. He is woozy with the blows and the alcohol has taken its toll.  

He struggles to his feet. He is still in pain. But his eyes have lost their wild look. Instead he looks shocked, stunned by how he has been demolished by his ex, the one he used to bully so easily and persistently. He seems lost, wondering what to do. This is not what he had expected. Something has gone awry.

Sit down, Jen tells him firmly. He sits, painfully, eyes now tearing up. She has no pity for him.

Still standing she looks around at her fellow passengers. They look away, ashamed at how helpless they have been.

Not a finger lifted, not a hand stretched out to help? But never mind. I need to ask you, are you willing to make a statement to the police as to what transpired here?

She looks each in the eye. Some turn away and avoid her look. Three women nod their assent. She picks up her satchel, takes out her note book and pen and asks them to write their names and phone numbers. Thank you, she says. The police will be contacting you for that statement.

Then she turns to the males. Aren’t you guys ashamed of yourselves? When are you going to stand up to bullies in our society? Tomorrow, it could be your own wives or daughters.

She plugs in triple zero on her phone and informs the operator, as succinctly as she can, what has happened and for the police to meet them in the second compartment from the front at the next station, and if that is not possible, then the station after that.

She turns to Carl. You are going nowhere mate. Its time you learnt your lesson.

Later, as she recounts the events to the police, a strange calm descends over her. She knows now, she can indeed take care of herself. She will not be dominated by men again, ever.  It’s a feeling of liberation.