Chapter 9
A New Family
Trust is not something you give lightly. As Mrs. Downing closed the door and took her seat next to me, she calmly raked me over the coals, when she spoke my real name. "Eric, I don't understand why you felt the need to keep your real name a secret, but after a long talk with your Grandmother, she gave me the reason you prefer it. She didn't seem surprised when I mentioned the name you gave me."
Her eyes crinkled, and she asked if that was the name I would prefer to go by, as Mr. Downing took the only seat in the room. She told him what the name EJ meant and seemed amused. They asked the story behind my wounds. I nodded to indicate, that I would like to go by EJ and gave them the details, as little as I could and watched his bright blue eyes turn to a stormy gray; how Jeff did when he was upset over the trouble I was in.
Mrs. Downing's eyes seemed to melt into pools of steel beams when she raked her eyes over me, clarifying the injuries in her mind. If my parents were in the room, they might be dead or wishing they were as Mr. Downing's arms tensed. She asked, "I am assuming your Grandmother doesn't know about this considering she seemed surprised how badly hurt you were."
I answered no; trying to moisten my throat, and then told them that I had planned to stop by and inform her personally but ended up here instead. Mrs. Downing rolled her eyes as Mr. Downing chuckled, but soon stopped as she folded her arms and glared at him. I knew I was being a smart mouth and replied: "Sorry ma'am, it's just that I have been through a lot lately and didn't mean to be smart about it."
She squeezed my hand. "You should know up front we do not condone lying, but I will let it go for now, considering you had good reason by doing so. Personally, I like the name EJ and it seems to fit you and so that's what we will call you." She also informed me that my Grandmother would be here within the hour and Doctor Hatfield would be in to check on me shortly after and asked if I was in any pain.
I said yes, and she handed me a couple of pills from the pill bottle and a glass of cool water to swallow them with. I had a really bad headache because of my poor eyesight and not wearing my glasses. My parents had them when they left me nothing but my boxers. I could see well without them. Just couldn't read anything that wasn't in very large print or to see with more clarity instead of the haze that I see when looking closely at things or people.
For those that have read my series What's Behind the Looking Glass, I have taken out the fiction about some moments. I won't say which ones for those cheaters out there, but I can tell you this. My Grandmother is nothing like the one described in my series, but it comforts me knowing that everyone likes my grandmother. Even though anyone that knows her thinks she'd get a kick out of how I have transformed her character. If she had any similarities to her, I doubt she would have easily been fooled and would have taken action about this a long time ago. But don't feel too disappointed; she still had plenty of spunk when she got riled up.
While I waited for my Grandmother and the pain pills to kick in Mr. and Mrs. Downing introduced me to the rest of the family, which turned out to be half the county. Julie was the first one as she squeezed my hand and, being the oldest of the five children at the young age of nineteen, and took after her mother with the same hair coloring. She liked to wear her hair down slightly below her shoulders and sometimes put flowers in her hair. Julie had deep blue eyes like her mother and her brothers, except for Anna and Sam, the youngest of her three brothers. She had a small petite frame, and everyone regarded her as very mature and pretty for her age.
She loved all her brothers and her sister Anna, as she considered them her best friends. She was a tomboy at heart and loved to tease and wrestle with them on the floor or in the dirt. Had done so often enough when they and she were younger while other girls went to parties or played with their dolls. She'd rather stay home and spend time with her family. More so since she graduated from Payson High School two years ago and never looked back while her friends went to college. The family was her most important goal.
Anna stood next to Julie and gave her the space so I could see her and the rest of them as they stood silently against the bedroom wall. She too was a tomboy at heart and could feel comfortable wearing jeans rather than nice farmer dresses like her sister, Julie, and her mother. Even though she was considered short for her age at five-feet-two, she still managed to beat her brothers in wrestling. Her eyes were a soft chocolate brown, which went well with her light brown hair that when the morning sun shined on it turned it to golden honey.
People knew Anna for her stubborn streak that matched her mother's. Sometimes she worries that her family hid things from her because she does not act as mature as her sister Julie. Thinking they needed to always have to handle her with kid gloves. If only they could see her who she really is, not a little girl anymore, but a young woman. Perhaps after she graduates from High School this coming year, things will change for her like they did for her sister. There is nothing more she loves than having her brothers around her all the time and being with her sister and mother. She hopes when she grows up, she can make them proud of her.
Robert is the type of guy that takes life seriously when it comes to making a hard decision. He has always looked up to his father and knows without a doubt he can talk about anything with him without feeling embarrassed about any subject. He, too, like his sister Julie, was very mature for his age as a fourteen-year-old teenager. But he feels that time has slowed down as he watched other kids his age go out and do things that neither his Pa nor his Ma would approve of; while inside wishes he could just grow up to be an adult today instead of waiting. He had plenty to do right here helping his Pa take care of the farm than getting in more trouble. If it was one thing, he learned it was responsible and be responsible for your action or suffer the consequences.
Robert resembled his father about his broad shoulders and hair color of soft brown hair and blue eyes, or should he say one blue eye and one green eye depending on the light. He stood tall at an average height of five feet six inches. Lengthy and sprite when he moved and considered doing nothing more than being with or playing and teasing his two brothers Will and Sam. Yet sometimes he did not agree on things about his sisters Julie and Anna, but no matter how hard they made him blush or teased him. He loved them and held them in high regard when asking for advice.
Will was thirteen and the same age as me. Will, still very much a kid at heart, would get in trouble whenever he could, but no one saw him as a bad kid seeking attention. Yet it was true he acted out more for the fun than questioning the consequences. To say he was a handful at times would be saying the true nature of his fun-loving self. He too took life seriously like his brother Robert, just not as seriously as he would have liked. He played in the sun, fish, and swim in the pond near the house more often than he completed his chores, resulting in being grounded many times.
Will like me was still waiting for his growth to kick in like his brother. Not just because his brother Robert and his friends at school teased him about it enough. He tried to stand tall a four feet eight inches, with his size six feet, unlike his brother's size nines. It was true he'd never be a basketball star or make the team playing football, but there was always track. After all, he has to outrun his sisters from time to time.
Will liked to wear his hair long just barely over his ears and enough to keep it out of his deep blue eyes like his mother. Like his Ma, he took pride in his high cheekbones and lengthy stride. Whenever they would wave to him in the hallway or the classroom, he always had a smile for a girl as he watched his brother roll his eyes. He earned the reputation as the jokester, yet he could also be the sweetest guy around when he chose to.
Sam was the youngest of the five children aged eight and a half: roughly a little younger as my brother Aaron. He has the most adorable puppy dog brown eyes that would make you melt when you look at him. It was true he was short for his age, at three feet and two inches. He had a tendency to jumble his words when he got upset or nervous and was worse around strangers. His cute baby face didn't change, and his thick brown hair would curl at the ends when it needed to be trimmed or groomed. With his strong jawline was just shaping as his Pa's and his brothers.
His favorite thing to do was to play in the dirt or wrestle with his brothers and sisters. Sam like most boys his age, hated bath time and would run until caught. But once he was in the tub. He would play with his little sailboats while his brothers or sisters would bathe him. If he had a favorite chore on the farm, it would be feeding the chickens and the horses. The pigs always seemed to be too smelly for his taste, but he could see the advantages of playing in the cool mud as he dug his bare toes into the dirt. He hated shoes like me and went barefoot whenever given the chance, which was most of the time, considering Ma didn't like us wearing shoes in the house and preferred we all went barefoot to prevent always mending our socks. That, my friends is the Downings; my one and only genuine family, but I don't want to jump the gun. After all, a life story is a life story.
It wasn't long after I met everyone that Mrs. Downing shooed everyone from the room and left to answer the doorbell. Mr. Downing stayed in the room with me; I told him I would be fine if he had things to do other than watch paint dry, but he wouldn't hear of it. For once, I was glad. I was already convinced that he was a stand-up guy, and I could easily envision him as my father.
I knew deep down that wasn't going to happen for reasons I will never understand. The Downings are neither LDS nor part of any faith that I was aware of and were not foster parents granted in the state of Utah. Two strikes against them and my Grandmother hadn't even met them. I knew without a doubt that I was either going to be sent home or going to another foster home. I tried to shut my eyes as I wrestled with the problems of my certain doom.
It wasn't long before I heard my Grandmother's voice as she gasped, seeing my black and blue face as if I had been in a prize fight, which wouldn't be all that far from the truth. Along with the cuts and scrapes that covered my face and arms, almost made her knees give way, as Mr. Downing quickly guided her to the chair. I heard her slump as she looked me up and down in somebody else's bed. Her husband brought in two folding chairs, taking one of them for himself.
Grandma introduced herself to Mr. Downing, taking his hand and giving him a firm handshake. Julie brought in some tea and a fresh pitcher of ice water and set it on the table and poured me a glass before leaving the room. My Grandmother was not a patient woman as she sat drumming her fingers on the chair declining the tea and poured water instead. I knew my case was lost before it even began with the question about religion.
My Grandmother seemed calm even though they said they are not LDS or part of any other religion. All she asked was. "Do you believe in God?" My mouth went dry fearing the answer, but the answer was yes. So why was my Grandmother not concerned considering she's the one that has harped on it the most? Grandma always made sure without a doubt that any home I was placed in met this criterion.
"Alright EJ," she said. "You and I have some decisions to make, but first I want to hear your side of the story and don't you dare leave anything out. I believe that I have heard enough lies these last couple of days. Your parents say you are at some scout camp, yet here you are lying in bed so beat up that I barely recognized you when I walked through the door, and I believe these nice folks deserve the same courtesy; so young man lets hear it from the top. I want the whole story, not just bits of pieces this time."
Two hours later and half drained pitcher of water; I started from the top, repeated everything that you have read up to this point. I have never lied to my Grandmother, and she knew it as she and Mrs. and Mr. Downing wiped the tears from their eyes. Although I didn't want to burden them with my problems, I had no one else I could talk to or seek guidance from. I did however leave out the part of me running off to Las Vegas with my brother Aaron. Somehow, I don't think my Grandmother would have been proud of me. Despite how badly injured I was.
When my Grandmother decides something, her decision is as firm as stone, as she leaned over and kissed my bruised cheek. I asked if I could use the bathroom before I peed all over myself again from all the water I drank. Plus, my stomach was beginning to feel cramped. She giggled with one more kiss, announcing to the world that I needed to go to the bathroom. My face turned red with embarrassment, but Mr. Downing didn't hesitate as he picked me up wrapped the sheet around me and carried me down the hall setting me on the porcelain throne closing the door while he waited for me on the other side.
It wasn't long before Doctor Hatfield arrived, and I was right. I had heard that name before as my Grandmother was talking up a storm as they were getting reacquainted, while she introduced me to him by shaking his hand. Doctor Hatfield, the last of his breed known to make house calls in Santaquin County, is renowned as Doctor Richard Hatfield. And right next to the Santaquin Pharmacy. If you've ever been in Santaquin you'd blink and miss it, but Doc didn't mind. He loved small towns where everyone one knew everyone and their business.
Heck, he's birthed and raised half the county for going on sixty years. Some would say back in the days he was a ladies' man. With his dark brown hair now white as snow right down to his handlebar mustache and bushy eyebrows. Most people would think he be an impostor to Kernel Sanders. It wasn't for his height just below five feet and seven inches. During the Second World War, he served and trained the best nursing staff that a hospital could find.
He may have been old-fashioned, but no doctor could beat his bedside manner or his temper. Despite being old-fashioned, no doctor could beat Doc Hatfield's bedside manner or his temper, even though he was known to toss a gurney through a door with a nurse on it. Better than most doctors today. He always looked his best with a smart bowtie with different colored spots to get the attention of his customers. Man, or beast, paid him sometimes in coin sometimes in whatever they got or made. All he cared about was their welfare, not his own and a good friend to have on your side.
Doc did his best as he reexamined me from head to toe. He ensured that I was well covered around the waist to prevent any embarrassment as we listened to him tsk a lot. And I would jump or scream out in pain when he touched the more sensitive wounds. My Grandmother was becoming really mad. Mad enough to chew nails and bit their heads off before spitting them out. I have never seen my Grandmother so angry as I repeated the same story over again to him, while he wrote it all down and took pictures of the injuries. To document the abuse by my parents and my sister Susan had caused me not over three or four days ago. I still looked like a bruised piece of fruit that had sat in the sun too long.
After completing his work, he wrote up a prescription for the pain and one to help me sleep because I was guaranteed to have night terrors for a very long time. He and my Grandmother were off to file custody papers having her say. "Stay in that bed and I will return with your brother; hopefully by dinner time and your glasses if they are still in one piece; if not, I will you get another pair."
She tisk'ed the very thought on how many pair of glasses a boy like me went through. "Then me and you are going to have a nice long chat," emphasizing the word long. Mr. Downing walked them back down the hall as Mrs. Downing sat with me only leaving me long enough to start dinner and giving orders to her boys to set up a bed and a cot for my brother and my Grandmother while her husband brought in her suitcase and set it in the corner.
Apparently, my Grandmother was staying long enough to decide what to do with my sorry ass. It was a shame that I couldn't stay here. But as I said before they did not meet her requirements, and I have never seen her back down from them not even once. I could argue with her until I was blue in the face before she would back down. Most likely, I would stay here long enough to where my fever subsided, and she would place me in the car and move in with her to take care of me until she found a foster home that met those requirements. And once again I would have to change schools not that this one matter to me and school would be out in a matter of a few days, anyway.
Knowing from experience and because of my attendants and poor grades. I knew without a doubt that I would be attending summer school, while the other students were enjoying those few months off playing in the sun. Providing I lived long enough and providing my parents don't come after me once they find out where I have been hiding and the small matter of being that I am still alive.
I know people question the laws back then and have a hard time believing that this kind of abuse can happen and the fact they can get away with it. But I tell you it happened the way I said it did back then, yet I can say without a doubt that if these things happened today with the new laws that are in place. People like my parents would be rotting in jail, but pick up a newspaper or watch the news, you find that still happens even today. It is just harder to get away with it.