The Choice

by Joseph and Christine M. Jagodowski

Photographer Richard Smolko

Copyright ©2000
ISBN: 0-87714-504-0 eBook edition
ISBN: 0-87714-245-9 PB edition

All rights reserved by Denlinger's Publishers, including the right to reproduce this electronic book, or portions thereof, in any form, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

Christine M. And Joseph Jagodowski are first time authors. Joseph has had several poems published including The Prophecy Machine and One More Time. They are a married writing team living in Northern Virginia.

I was captivated by the story line and there were enough twists and turns to keep me interested until the end.

I enjoy reading books where I can't predict, or am shocked by the ending. This was well written. I'll remember to look for future books authored by you - and, I will certainly consider electronic book formats in the future.

Great job!
- -Hilda C. Ferguson-Green, /WO/USDAFS

The Choice is an engaging tale of the consequences of rape and the resulting choices that the victim is faced with. It is the story of a brutal attack on a fourteen year old girl and how she handles the aftermath. The Choice explores the decisions made by the victim, Judy Greene, and the resulting horrific consequences. The story traces her life after the assault. Judy resolves to give up her child for adoption and she dedicates her life to law enforcement. Now a Boston police detective, Judy is kidnaped while investigating the disappearances of exotic dancers. She is brutally raped again and she faces a final decision. No one knows what the future holds, but the decision facing Judy cannot be delayed until the future has played out.

Sitting in the bushes he stared out at the night, breathing shallow, short breaths. There he was again, all alone with the buzz, the buzz in his head. He had the ache as he watched from his hiding place with tortured eyes. The YWCA lay directly across the street from Ricter Park. He sat hunched over in the bushes staring out at the night, waiting for the buzz and the ache to take him over the edge.

Sitting, waiting patiently for what providence brought to him, Paul Jamison's thought's drifted back to his childhood. His thoughts always drifted back, when the buzz and the ache took him beyond. He hated to relive the pain and rejection of his love for his mother.

Paul sat there in the bushes and thought of the times when his mother was displeased with him. He would be locked in the downstairs closet for the slightest infraction. He was afraid of the dark, and would curl up into a little ball and rock back and forth on his heels, hugging his legs, with his head buried in his lap. Paul would rock back and forth and cry, and he would wish that his mother was dead. With his mind occupied in the past, Paul began to slowly rock back and forth. His vision blurred. He curled up into a fetal position, rocking back and forth while he waited. Anger building until he was ready to explode. He puffed silently on Pall Mall cigarettes. Several of them lay crushed at his feet. He was starting to think that there would be no relief as he looked out at the deserted street.

Paul had been there for hours and was about to leave, when down the steps of the "Y" she came. Auburn hair tied in a pony tail, just like his mother had worn. The pony tail flipped from side to side as she half-skipped down the stairs and out into the street.

Judy Greene lived several blocks down the street from the YWCA. It was her first night back in gymnastics, and she was happy to be back with her friends. She had spent most of the summer at her grandparent's house outside of Boston. She was just entering her freshman year at high school and she was glad to be back home.

Judy liked to take short cuts through the park instead of going the long way around by the streets. She had to hurry, since she didn't want to worry her parents.

She was thinking about how nice it had been to see her friends again. The chill in the air felt good on her face as she hurried along the path. Judy was lost in thought, almost half jogging down the pathway. Paul leaped out of the bushes behind her. He reached out, grabbed her from behind and put his hand to her mouth as they tumbled to the ground. Paul muffled Judy's screams as he dragged her into the bushes. Paul pushed his hardness into her again and again until he exploded in great convulsions. Only then did the buzz and the ache begin to subside.

The attack lasted no more than fifteen minutes from the moment that he had grabbed his victim until he had pulled out of her. He was satisfied that his revenge was complete. Paul had no thoughts about his victim as he pulled his pants up and straightened his shirt. He did not look back as he crawled out of the bushes, leaving his victim unconscious and sprawled out on the ground. Paul ran his fingers through his hair as he slowly walked away from Richter Park, toward the nearest bar.

Judy lay twisted up. Her right leg was drawn up to her chest, and her left leg was sticking out to her right. As she lay there, nightmarish visions of the attack invaded her subconscious mind. As she dreamed of the struggle she turned over, spontaneously kicking her feet and clenching her fists. She was screaming in the nightmare world inside of her head. She was pulled down and hit hard again and again.

The violent memories continued throughout the long night, causing Judy to involuntarily moan out loud. Sometimes she reflexively flailed about, trying furtively to protect herself. Her legs and arms were covered with scrapes and bruises. A welt covered one side of her face. Her lips were puffy, and her right eye was swollen shut.

Judy turned again and kicked her right foot from under the laurel. It was now three o'clock in the morning, and the chill of the early September night was starting to take hold. A frost and freeze warning had been issued for the Berkshire Mountains.

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