Taryn crossed her arms over her breasts—just in case Clinton was looking out a window—and hurried out into the yard to find that Anna Rose had set up half a dozen flameless candles around the big oak tree at the end of the trailer.
“Where did those come from?” Jorja tugged at the bottom of her Minnie Mouse T-shirt. “We’re not going to dance around that tree, are we? I may be trying to find myself and get past all this anger, but I’m not doing some weird dance.”
“I keep them in my tote bag for occasions like this,” Anna Rose said. “And trust me, this is something I learned in my therapy sessions, and we all need it. I’ve marked off a line here in the gravel. We have to stand behind it. I brought my tote bag full of things to throw. The lights are so we can get a better visual of the tree trunk.”
“Why would we do that?” Jorja asked.
“When you are depressed or angry—but mostly when you’re really mad, like you are tonight—your entire body tenses up,” Anna Rose explained. “Those emotions affect your thinking, your muscles, and most of all, your heart and blood pressure. You can’t sleep—which is what you and I’ve both proved tonight, Jorja. Lack of rest just makes everything even worse the next day. You need to work it out; throwing things helps. So we are going to stand behind this line and work out our tensions on that tree.”
“Sounds insane to me,” Jorja muttered.
Anna Rose dumped the contents of her tote bag onto the ground. “It did to me at first, too, but when I get all worked up, I get out the tote bag and I throw until the anger is gone. It might take ten minutes or an hour—but until I get all the tension out of my body, I keep at it.”
Taryn frowned. “Those things look like dog toys.”
“Yep.” Anna Rose nodded. “These kinds work best because they don’t bounce around. After we throw them all, we’ll take turns gathering them up, and we’ll do it again and again, until we are tired.” She picked up a stuffed frog, wound up like a professional softball player, and sent it flying through the air. It hit the tree with a loud thump and fell to the ground.
Jorja chose a plastic bone and did the same thing, but it fell short of the tree.
“Come on, girl,” Anna Rose said. “That was a baby throw if I ever saw one. Pretend that tree is Ford Chambers and you are throwing a stick of dynamite at him.”
Taryn chose a stuffed octopus, held it by a long tenacle, and hit the tree with force. “Damn, that felt good,” she said.
Jorja jogged over to the place where the bone had fallen and brought it back to the line. “Forget about his face and dynamite. This is me throwing his penis at the tree and smashing it so bad that he can’t ever do what he did to me to another woman.”
“I can’t believe you said that word out loud,” Anna Rose said with a giggle. “But now you’re getting the idea. We’re going to do this until our bodies say that we’ve worked out our anger toward the men who’ve caused us pain—and toward Kaitlin, for expecting us to be her servants.”
“Enough talk,” Taryn whispered, “more throwing.”
Thirty minutes later, Taryn’s arms were throbbing, but it was a good ache. Anna Rose had been right about the therapeutic value of giving the body a workout when a person was angry—whether it had been building for years and years or the moment had just happened in the past couple of days.
“Feel better?” Taryn asked.
“Not yet,” Jorja answered as she gathered up the toys and came back to the starting line. “Y’all can go on in if you’re done, but I’ve got some more frustrations to work out.”
“Nope.” Anna Rose sat down on the gravel and leaned her back against the van. “We’re staying until we all three feel better.”
Taryn sat down beside her and used the hem of her nightshirt to wipe sweat from her face. “Kind of like the rule in the military: no man left behind.”
“That’s it,” Anna Rose said. “We might not agree on a blessed thing, but when it comes to our group therapy, we don’t leave anyone out in the dark alone. So, Jorja, darlin’, you keep pitching. That tree doesn’t mind a bit.”
Jorja didn’t answer but picked up a toy in each hand. A good strong south wind kept the first one from hitting the tree, but the second one made a sound like the old oak had got the breath knocked plumb out of it. “I like this therapy. It’s better than just talking and talking, and I feel my body letting go of the anger. How often should I do this?”
“As often as you need to. The toys are always in my closet. Come and get them anytime. They’ve taken lots of beatings,” Anna Rose answered.
“I’m not so sure about that poor old tree, though,” Taryn whispered. “It probably wishes that we were little kids again and fighting over the old tire swing that used to hang on the lower limb. What else did you learn in therapy?”
Anna Rose held up one finger. “Walking and breathing in fresh air clears your head and keeps you from having a stroke.” A second finger shot up. “That talking can get anger out of the heart before it festers. There’s no pills on the market that will cure what we’ve all been through—especially you, Jorja.” The third finger came up slowly. “You gotta exercise—as in, batting practice or throwing toys at trees.” And the fourth one even slower. “Teaching yourself to trust. I haven’t come close to getting that one down yet.”
“I’m not sure I could even begin to learn that last one,” Taryn said. “How does a person teach themselves to trust?”
“I’m told that finding someone who is totally trustworthy and allowing yourself to trust your own judgment is the first baby step,” Anna Rose answered. “I’m not so sure I’ll ever get that far, but I still have hope.”
Jorja gathered up the toys, put them back in the tote bag, and sat down beside Taryn. “Even after all these years, you still hold out hope? I gave that up a long time ago.”
Taryn patted her on the knee. “Never give up hope. That’s what keeps your heart strong.”
Jorja leaned her head on Taryn’s shoulder. “You and Anna Rose hope for me. I’m too tired to even think about trusting anyone right now.”
