Chapter 19
Fire
Trouble always knew where to find you when you stop looking. I knew something big was coming as Jeff returned to my side as a warning that it was closer than a heartbeat. But what came was something worse than anything I could have ever imagined. Dry lightning is common in these parts, and it'd been weeks since we had seen any rainfall; while the wind blew tearing shingles off the roofs and was strong enough to topple trees. Lightning struck the nearby field across from us and started a raging fire. It was so quick; we barely escaped with our lives by the time the fire trucks made it down the road.
The home I had lived in was gone and seemed that the only choice that they could make was to send me back to my parents since the Downings had no way of protecting and providing for me or my brother. When they had no home themselves; I watched as my hopes and dreams burned to the ground. I couldn't bear the thought of returning to the nightmare. All I could do was watch as my family and our friends put out the fire before it spread any further. But the damage was done. I was alone once more in the world.
Jeff tried to tell me there was no way my Aunty M or the Downings would send me away. I needed to have faith. But all I could think about was how many times I had been forced to leave because of one disaster after another. The Frys abandon me, holding me responsible for their son's death.
The Steeds couldn't take me with them because of my parents and the rules stipulated with family services. They were only temporary foster parents according to the State and their stupid bylaws, so they had little sway. Even though they did fight for me; I still ended up being returned to my parents and sold for "thirty pieces of silver." (A bible term used when teaching what sin is worth. What would it take to sell your soul? What is your price?)
My parents did this just to prove they could by selling me like cattle or property or a means to an end about my life. That meant so little to anyone. This was their thirty pieces of silver. My parents nearly succeeded if wasn't for my Grandmother. I wouldn't still be here today. I would be dead with a needle in my arm from an overdose. But even she returned me to my parents, so they could drum it into my head that I didn't deserve to be loved. I am nothing to anyone except a worthless piece of property.
No. I could not risk it again. I knew for a fact that they would kill me if they returned me to them. To be thrown away like the trash that I am. Just another disappointment, a joke, nothing more. They would force Aaron to live his life in foster care. So, I ran or hobbled away with barely a sheet wrapped around my waist and disappeared into the night.
But I forgot one important note about Jeff: Ma could see him. So, I tried hiding away until everyone was gone. Making a new plan where it didn't include returning to my parents. I heard my name being called all over the farm while they searched for me. I refused to answer as it my heart broke. Knowing if they found me, I would be in my parent's house before the night was over. I hoped Aaron would be safe enough.
Jeff screamed at my location like a beacon so Ma could find me, and they did because of him. Even though I told him not to, but when had he done what I have asked? Because of him, they found me curled up into a ball with the rooster on my lap inside his little hen house that only a boy my size could fit in. I cursed Jeff seeing his smug face as I saw Ma standing in her soot-stained nightgown and Pa standing in nothing but his boxers; black with soot standing over me as I tried to hide away. Hoping in time they would forget about me; likes so many parents had done, while I had bounced from one home to another.
My tears fell in great big sobs. "Please don't send me back," I cried repeatedly. Pa slowly removed the rooster and lifted me out and set me down in my Ma's arms. As she laid my head against her shoulders as I shook with fear; knowing I was going back and there was nothing I could do about it. All I could do was cry, begging to stay. That I would do anything just to stay here; knowing the odds were pretty slim. No house, nothing but the clothes on our backs; there was no way the state would allow them to keep me. They'd be lucky to keep their own children from being taken away. I was nothing but a ward of the state that paid parents to house me, nothing more.
No matter how hard Aunty M or my Grandma would fight to prevent it. I was going back, and they would kill me rather than let me be happy anywhere. They owned me and there was nothing I could do. Ma quietly soothed me, letting me know how much they truly loved me. As I shook with fear, seeing the fire burn everything in its path; while everyone tried to save anything that wasn't nailed down.
Pa and Ma carried me away in their arms with only a single dirty sheet around me. Jeff followed behind them as he looked back at the ashes where the house once stood. Our barn and all or livestock remained unharmed and were being moved away to safety. Away from the smoke and hot coals that burned nearby. Robert and Will, covered in soot from head to toe, held shovels in their hands. I watched over Pa's bare shoulder; Julie and Anna were wearing nothing, but their nightgowns were caging the chickens while Aunty M was in hers with the help of Sam and Ted in theirs as they shooed the horses further into the field.
It seemed I was the only one that did nothing but hide; always running away instead of facing my problems head on. When am I going to learn to trust? When am I going to learn there are better ways of solving my problems than running away? Hoping trouble doesn't find me. Aaron was a lot braver than me as he lives in a house of horrors, when I can't even face my parents without peeing my pants like a baby. I can't even make it through a single lightning storm; without yelling in terror. Seeing ghosts that looked like my parents, standing in my room, with a belt in one hand and a knife in the other. Or living the nightmares over and over again of every horrible deed they had done to me, either by my parents or in another foster home; even with pills they sometimes come back to haunt me.
Aaron seldom cried out at night, screaming in terror whenever he had a nightmare. Instead, he faces them, whereas I run and hide like a coward. No wonder nobody wants me when they can have someone like him, a perfect child. Not damaged, and a disappointment named after some silly doll. My father refuses to call me anything but a boy or some other demeaning name. Not once has he ever called me EJ or Eric as far back as I can remember. He refers to me as a worthless brat, a disappointment since birth; pond scum; yet refuses to allow anyone to adopt me when asked. Saying he belongs to me as he growls and slaps my face in front of them to prove his point, and does it if I am caught looking at him instead of the ground? Where he feels my eyes belonged.
If someone even says something about his abusive behavior, he laughs, saying. "Prove it. There is nothing you can do about it; it's my word against yours. I have been doing it all his miserable life and nobody has the balls to stop me." Grabbing me by the hair drags me along like a bag of trash as he tosses me forward watching me stumble; yelling, "move it, boy! You are nothing but a worthless, murdering bastard!" People like his two brothers Don and Darold and other relatives think he is a kind man, and a good parent just like my mother. They are only seeing what they want to see.
Ma and Pa assured me that even though the house was gone, being a family was more important and that included me. There was no way in hell was I going to leave them, not for a single minute. His words still echoed in my mind after all these years. Stating if he had to go to the very depths of hell to find me, there wouldn't be a stone left unturned until he found me and brought me home where I belong. (Sad to say that was one promise he could not keep, but not for the lack of trying. I won't disclose the events until it's time to. So don't ask.)
Friends set us up in one of the barracks that held a small working kitchen and a tiny bathroom, but at least it had a roof and four walls that would keep the weather out. We had little except sleeping bags and a mattress here and there. None of us complained, considering we were all together and alive and unharmed.
Mr. Stringham gave us boys a pair of overalls and a couple of fine work shirts and shoes; while Mrs. Whitmore and a few of ladies donated dresses to Ma, Aunty M, and my sisters. Until Ma and Pa could buy us more; however, since I couldn't wear overalls at least for another week, according to Doctor Whitmore, I was still stuck wearing a borrowed Kitenge gown; having Ma to adjust the length so I wouldn't trip and the sleeves, so they weren't long as I waved them like a flag as the shoulders slipped off onto my arms.
Doc had removed most of the stitches so I could walk without the crutches, but he still wanted nothing around my waist for at least another week and even that would be the bare minimum. It was ok for now as I sighed and I envied my brothers wearing overalls where I couldn't, but there were still plenty of summer days before we had to worry too much about me getting cold.
Pa and the boys went back to the farm to see what they can salvage, which wasn't much. A picture here and some plates. The surface had destroyed everything else. It wasn't until they uncovered the fruit cellar where Pa kept most of our valuables. Like the China that we boys gave to Ma a couple of months back.
Everything else, like bottle fruit and some of the meat in the meat freezer, had unthawed because of the heat. But we were able to salvage quite a bit as we carried out what was good loading it either on the pickup or the wagon and transferred all that we saved into our barn for safekeeping. While Ma and my sisters stuffed the cabinets, a small fridge, and ice box with as much food as possible. What we couldn't stuff we ate or gave to the neighbors so it wouldn't go to waste.
By the time Pa came back for a second trip, there was a long line of people clearing the old house and scraping the soil where the fire scorched the ground. With large tractors and bulldozers from the city with the Mayor and some of his boys; Mr. Stringham had set up an open tent with shovels, picks, and hard hats. While he yelled for us to join him and Aunty M as she organized the work crews sifting through the rubble. It was a good thing I had a new pair of work shoes, or I wouldn't have been able to help. Carry water or messages from one place to the other, without stepping on a nail that almost went through my shoe. No, going barefoot or wearing sandals would have been dangerous. Pa gave me two choices: I could stay at the barracks and help Ma or wear shoes and socks.
I wanted to help Pa and face my fears instead of cowering behind Ma. I wanted to prove to Pa that I could be the person he thought I was. Not someone that runs away because life throws him a curve ball. I may not be able to do much wearing a boys gown, but I would do anything Pa asked me to without so much as a complaint. Pa and I had an endless talk. Not the kind of talk my father and I have; where he beats me when he's mad or disappointed, which seemed to be all the time. No, this was the kind of talk when Pa puts his arm around me and discusses ways of dealing with life's problems. Believe me, there is a big difference between the two.
Jeff hadn't left my side for almost a week either; he still seemed distracted. I asked why, as I watched my mother's car approach. I had two choices: face her on my terms or run away like I always do. Pa was at my side in a flash with my brothers and Aunty M cursing right behind him. I chose to stand my ground that day as I watched the car pull up near the fence. She did not come alone as two cars followed right behind her: one from the DDS and the second from State Social Services.
My mother quickly smiled, and it was almost too giddy; after she saw that the house had burned down and was in the process of being torn down the rest of the way… Why had she smiled? I could only guess she found a loophole; why else she would be here with the State and DDS. Aunty M growled, seeing her. Pa held her back quickly grabbing her arm. With his other, he put it around me to protect me. Aunty M motioned for the Mayor and some his boys. In case my mother tried street brawling. My father wasn't in any of the cars, which was good; I was having enough trouble keeping calm without peeing my pants, wanting to cross my legs, but held strong and held tight to Pa.
She growled low enough for me to hear. But quickly put on a fake smile as the rest of her posse joined her. "It seems, Mr. Downing that you are incapable of caring for my son any longer." She smiled like a cat with cream. "Not having a house or home or any of the necessities required by the state." Again, smiling like this was the best news of the day, seeing our home burned to the ground. "So, I will take him home with me where he belongs and server papers stating you have placed him in danger and end this façade all together."
Aunty M growled first. "Over my dead body you― (Nasty swear word insert here.) My father is the only one that has a mouth that needs a bar of soap. If you met him in person, you would soon understand why.
The Mayor said calmly. "Ladies, none of that now, and not in front of the children; if I am not mistaken; the law states that Mr. Downing has seventy-two hours to come up with a way to provide shelter and the means to support his family, and pardon me, but if I recall correctly, he stills has forty-eight hours to do so."
My mother growled and turned to her posse as they confirm that is true according to the bylaws. Oh, she was mad, trying to control her anger. "What? Staying in a hobble or hotel for such a large family? While I have a home that is much more reasonable for my son than anything you can provide him." She nearly screamed.
Aunty M said. "He has a home, they all do". (Enter the swear word here.) Aunty M angrily declared, "They can have my home! She said with a smug face. She dared her to top that one. "I won't be needing it anymore."
"Yes; however, that would require them to move to Salt Lake City, and have to change schools. He could live at home and not have to change anything; go ahead and live there if you like, my son will be staying here. In my home." She said my son with such hard punctuation to state that I belonged to her and no one else; especially the Downings.
Aunty M was almost speechless, wanting to slap her. If it wasn't for the Mayor and Pa, she might have. (Personally, I would have liked to spit in her face.) But I stepped back a couple more inches in case she lunged for me, despite who was around me. I was practically terrified and almost peed my pants; it took a lot will power not to. However, I made a small whimper, causing Pa to look down and squeeze me closer to him.
Mayor had a silly grin on his face like he had the best cream when he announced. "Well, it seems I have the best solution. Mr. Downing and his family will be living in my house since is just me and my wife. All our kids are married and have children of their own. Leaving me and my wife with a big old empty house; I was planning on selling it anyway to move into something smaller. They can move in whenever they like, and their children wouldn't have to change schools. If necessary, we are willing to live in those so-called "hobbles" as you referred to them to. Until they finish building his house.
Flabbergasted, Pa turned to ask. Mayor simply handed him his house keys and smiled sweetly, waiting for a response. There was nothing she could do, but she wanted proof that this home existed, stated that before she even considered it. She had the right to see it; of course, the DDS and Social Services had to document it as proof that it existed and was within the agreed bylaws. She refused to let them play any more tricks to keep her son with the Downings when it was easy for her to return him to his parent's home once again.
Mayor quickly called home using the phone set up in the work tent. I could have sworn I heard Mayor's wife yell from the receiver. "What? You did what?" As he quickly gave a brief explanation of the details and hung up the phone and led Pa and us boys to his car. My mother offered to take us, but Pa declined, and I was glad he did. Aunty M, however, got in the car with my mother. Apparently, there were going to be words I don't think I even want to know about. Jeff rode along with them. After all, ghosts can do what they like. I wanted to ask but thought better of it and soon arrived at the Mayor's house just a couple of streets down from Main Street, which was five miles from our farm.
Mayor's wife greeted us as soon as we pulled in and gave a quick kiss to her husband. My mother didn't look a bit happy; slamming the car door and glared at Pa with such rage. If looks could kill, he'd be dead, without a doubt. Aunty M seemed calm as she rejoined our small party not revealing anything of their conversation. While the mayor and his wife were giving us a tour of the house, DDS and Social Services made notes as they made a checklist.
The house had five bedrooms and a master bedroom. They were small, but it was roomier than the barracks. Soft cream carpeting covered the living room floor and dining room, with a shade that was neither too light nor too dark. The kitchen had a nice red cherry floor with oak cabinetry with light peach coloring the walls. Two and a half bathrooms and large fruit cellar and a brick fireplace. All the rooms had nice roomy closets and comfortable beds painted in each of their children's favorite color.
The mayor expressed the kids' bedrooms had not been used for a long time and how delightful it would be to see children in them again. And if we wanted to change the colors, we were more than welcome to. The house stood on four half acres in the back and a large backyard with tire swing and little tree house and plenty of room for some chickens and rooster and small pasture with two dairy cows inside named Rose and Clementine and plenty room for Pa and Aunty M's horses.
Aunty M was already dreaming of fresh milk and cream as she licked her lips patting both cows on the sides as they swished their tails. Mayor said that he and his wife were getting on in years to take care of them. That milk most of the time went to waste not by having a large family anymore to drink it.
That he would be glad to give them to us. Knowing they would be well taken care of; he would be glad to give them to us instead of selling them to strangers. My mother gasped at seeing them and the yard plus the house that made her trailer look like they lived in poverty.
She didn't look like a happy camper as she watched her well thought out plan crumble before her eyes, because of strangers. "So, this is how it's going to be and you're willing to give your house to strangers, free of charge? While you move in a "hobble" or dirty, fifthly "little shack," with people that are so below you. That you are willing to live in filth like hobos and drunks; wanting to make me bathe and scoured every inch of me just by thinking about them when you could live in comfort here… What in hell have they to deserve this, I would like to know?" She growled.
Mayor's wife stood toe to toe with my mother. "More than most people, that's for sure. How much have you contributed to helping your neighbor and friends without asking for anything in return? My husband and I have known the Downings and their family for a very long time. Mr. Downing is a fair and honest man, and I know whatsoever that his sons are just as honest." She stood with her back straight and pointed her fingers against my mother's chest. "He'd give his shirt off his back to any stranger, he loves every single child in his home regardless of who they are… And I have yet to see him ever raise a hand to any of them. You, on the other hand; I cannot say the same. Now 'git' off my property!" She said, pointing to the door.
Aunty M was impressed, and I for once stood my ground, staying dry and watching her leave. Her posse stayed long enough to sign papers and verified that the Mayor really intended to turn the property over to Mr. Downing. Mayor saying, "take that seventy-two hours and shove it where the sun doesn't shine;" as he waved goodbye to my very mad mother. With a handshake deal, it was done. We moved in by nightfall; not that we had a lot to move in to begin with. The Mayor and his wife took our spot in the barracks and that was that.