Chapter 3
Learning
I was sixteen when I had thought I knew everything about my mother, but somehow, I had missed out on things she liked to do. In some ways, we were learning together with each other. For instance, growing up all I knew was her angry side and the monster inside of her. I have learned a lot about her over the past few months. I learned she liked to laugh and play games. She liked books as much as me. She had always been stubborn when she wanted something she never gave in. If my father told her no and if she wanted it bad enough, she would find a way to make it happen, but most of all she liked to sing, almost as much as skinny dipping.
For the first time when I actually listened and opened my eyes wide open, instead of worrying she would harm me, or I could trust her to keep her promise. I was beginning to see her in a new light. Every visit was like finding gold and seeing her for the first time. Mom was there for me when I was in sleep therapy. Not often as the Rothwells, but she was there when it counted the most. Sure, I had my doubts … that this was just a dog and pony show, but actual love was hard to fake.
She supported me when I was down and out. She would cheer me up when the world was ganging up on me, with stupid rules that contradicted my carefree lifestyle that my foster parents had taught me. Even more so, after the roundtable discussion, to her, I was just as important as my brother Aaron was. Instead of being a curse, I was someone she loved more than life itself.
I was proud to wake up each morning to see her smiling face asking me. "What should we do today my sunshine?" It was her new nickname for me because I loved the sun. I loved how it felt on my bare skin. She loved watching me and my brother frolic in it, without a single care in the world or a single stitch of clothing. For her and us, it was better than gold, not having to worry about what my father and sisters thought. It was our special time, and we didn't share it with anybody.
In the water, we would laugh and play, our bare skin tingling from the touch of the warm sun as we raced across the open field. Aaron and I were her golden boys, her pride and joy, returned to her by the grace of God. She was always expressing her regret for not being able to witness the beauty and wonder she had missed out on during those sixteen wasted years.
It angered her knowing the mistakes she had made when she and we could have been happy all those years now gone. She hated to see Aaron, and I covered up, because to her, when that happened, we were no longer free. It was as if the sky had darkened and the nightmare would begin watching them and it walked through the door, chained us all up in our cages, and clipped our wings. She would cry, holding us both in her arms, shaking as my father pounded on my door because it bothered him that she let us be free from our cages.
Easter Sunday was the most uncomfortable Sunday after spending all that time in the sun and worst of all it was fast Sunday. The very second Aaron and I returned to our seats after the sacrament. Mom's loving touch would bring a smile to our faces as she playfully insisted that we kick off our shoes and socks, letting us go barefoot in church. With a playful smile, she would leisurely undo the buttons of our shirts, inching ever closer to removing them entirely, exposing the radiant golden skin that she found incredibly alluring. Giving a heavy sigh, she resigned herself to the fact that she couldn't do it, at least not yet. In fact, if she could have gotten away with it, she would have removed every stitch of mine and Aaron's clothes right there in the chapel.
Bishop Earl would smile his approval, seeing what my mother had done when he came by to shake our hands the second time around. Asked if he could walk her golden boys to class and if anyone asked why we were barefoot. He would say, "The Shepherd boys are walking on holy ground today." Having us un-tuck our shirts, letting them hang completely open, knowing if our father was here today, he would be very displeased. More so if he knew what my Mother, and we had been doing all weekend long.
Getting out of church was like a get-out-of-jail card, having the rest of the day to frolic in the sun, as we race to the car and go back to our secluded campsite that we had left behind. Long enough to go home and bathe and change into our Sunday clothes, knowing if my father found out we had missed church there would be a reckoning.
Mom had borrowed a tent and some camping gear of our own, without telling my father. Knowing he wouldn't be home until late Monday night the same day, I was to be returned to the Rothwells by 5 pm. The only ones that were aware of it were Grandma, Bishop Earl, and Mr. Stringham and they certainly weren't going to tell him. All that was important was the chores were done, and they were done before we left Wednesday morning.
As we hurriedly made our way to the lake that Monday, I dreaded the idea of waking up. The moment of truth came when we had to break camp and hastily change into more suitable attire, completely forgetting about our shoes and shirts, not wanting to let go of the freedom we had. We could feel the sadness knowing in a matter of hours Mom and my brother would have to say goodbye to me and once more go home without me. Mom tried to cheer us up, saying that she had arranged with my caseworker and the Rothwells that I could come home more often, than these sporadic visits. Even longer when school gets out for the summer, but what she didn't say was if my father would allow it.
We had just got home when the panic started, seeing my father and my sisters sitting on the couch waiting for us. It was obvious that they had been home for quite some time, not seeing any signs or smells of the great outdoors. Even though we were decent enough, everyone knew we had gone skinny dipping and still only wearing a pair of shorts. You could smell the lake on us and the smoke from the fire.
My mother stood in front of us when my father stood up and yelled. "You reek of sin and immorality! How dare you disobey me! When I had forbidden you to do it? Yet here you are, flaunting your indecent selves where everyone can see you! Filthy sinful sissy boys running around in nothing but shorts! Going barefoot in church, with barely a shirt on! How dare you disrespect me and God's house?" Mom shook with fear, quickly pushing us behind her to protect us, as my father came towards us, reaching for his belt in a swift motion. I didn't scream. Instead, I grabbed Aaron's hand and made a beeline to my bedroom.
I had just locked the door when my father slammed into it. Demanding I open this door, or he was going to break it down. I turned to pick up the phone to call for help, but it wasn't there. I had no doubts he would break it down. Mom was screaming. I could hear my father beating on her. Mom shouted for me to run. I stood there frozen, hearing the ax chop at the wall by the door. I turned to the window, finding the escape ladder broken into pieces lying on the grass below. Mom still shouting to run, heard my father laugh as he beat on her said. "You filthy, immoral bitch! Your tricks won't work this time!"
I looked at Aaron and moved the dresser by the door. I knew Aaron and I couldn't jump without falling on the broken ladder. I grabbed my mattress trying to stuff it out the window but it was too big without breaking the glass. I looked around the room, finding anything that I could break it with, hearing and seeing the ax slowly coming through the wall. Mom shouting begging him to stop, I heard my father smack her across the face; it was loud enough to hear it with the paper-thin walls. Aaron started to cry. I told him to stand back, grabbed a thick shirt from the closet and wrapped it around my left arm, and broke the window. I knew I had a matter of minutes, quickly shoving the mattress out the window. I told Aaron when he hit the ground to roll as he did in gymnastics.
I helped him to the window and placed the bedding over the window frame to prevent the glass from cutting into our bare feet, counting to three, one finger at a time. Watching him jump and roll onto the mattress. I had told him to run around the back through the fence that we had fixed in case we couldn't go the other way. Knowing my father would come in that direction any second now, hearing the ax stop chopping.
I had just jumped watching my father running towards us. I could stand my ground or run, but I couldn't do it without knowing that help was coming. Mom made the decision for me by jumping on my father's back and telling us to run. Aaron stood frozen, watching the monster beat our mother. I knew if we didn't move it would be all over. Mom was hanging on for dear life. I was torn trying to decide whether o help her or my brother. Mom yelled. "Go, he'll kill you if he catches you!" I had no doubt seeing two shallow graves behind the shed where the woodpile used to be days before when I arrived and mowed the lawn. I could see the shovel sticking up in one of the mounds of dirt and seriously doubted he was either planting trees side by side or he intended to do some gardening. I grabbed Aaron's hand and pushed him through the fence, watching my father fling her to the ground like she was nothing but dirt under his feet.
I watched my father reach inside his pocket and pulled out one of the three tranquilizers and jab her in the chest. I didn't need to know if it was at full strength or not. I knew if I engaged him in battle right now, both Aaron and I would die and soon be forgotten. Just one pin pokes anywhere on mine and Aaron's body. It would be over, knowing soon after we would be lying dead in those shallow graves. I ran, grabbed Aaron, and hoisted him over my shoulder. I stumbled, feeling the weight; I cursed for being so out of shape. I ran as fast as I could and crossed the neighbor's yard with my father close behind me, hearing the wood splinter as he kicked and pried off the fence boards to fit through.
I took a shortcut through people's yards, hoping to slow him down. I had one advantage, and that was he couldn't run very fast with his bad leg, but I wasn't willing to take the chance. I told Aaron the second I put him on the ground to run to Mr. Kenly's house and don't look back. I waited for my father watching Aaron stop frozen watching what was about to happen. I cursed and ran, grabbing Aaron's hand, and almost dragging him. I breathed a sigh of relief at seeing the police car in the driveway. I didn't waste time by knocking with my father close behind. I simply opened the door and bolted the door shut, hearing my father pound on it from the other side.
I didn't need to say anything. My father was proof enough as he kept trying to break the door down, demanding we come out so he could kill me. His wife was on the phone calling for help while Mr. Kenly dealt with the situation. It seemed like forever before we heard sirens. The pounding soon stopped as the sirens grew closer. I took long gasping breaths, telling him that my mother was in trouble. Trying to explain what my father had done, only having to repeat it, after breathing and sobbing into his shoulder.
By the time the officers arrived, my father had fled the scene. Aaron and I were told to stay here while they went and checked on my mother. It was a nightmare coming true as I watched the pandemonium; I was soon told that my mother had been sent to the hospital and my foster parents and my grandmother were on their way. I was asked if I needed anything from home; I shook my head and held my brother in my arms. I had everything I needed in my arms. Everything else wasn't important. Not my sisters, not my father. As far as I was concerned, they could all go straight to hell.
When Mom and Dad arrived, I hurried to them so I could feel safe in their arms. I didn't have to explain anything to them; they knew what had happened. All they were concerned about was me and my brother. I didn't have to ask if Aaron could come home with me. Dad simply picked him up in his arms and carried him and placed him in our car. We only stayed long enough for my grandmother to arrive.
She asked Aaron if he wanted to go with me or with her and my sisters. He didn't say a word and clung to me as if I was his lifeboat. Grandma gave us both a hug and a kiss, apologizing for my father. I knew she was angry. I could see it in her eyes. My father would be lucky if she didn't kill him with her bare hands.
I overheard the officer saying that my father wasn't home when they removed my sisters, and they were now searching for him. I didn't have to ask if he would be brought up on charges; he hadn't hurt me or my brother, just terrorized us as if that shouldn't have been bad enough. I also knew once my mother woke up and saw her injuries she wouldn't press charges, and once more he would get away with it. After all, it's not the first time or the last time he had beat her up. I hated the law; I hated the fact that people like him get away with it, other than a slap on the wrist.
"I should have killed him," I growled, hearing how they couldn't find him. Dad told me if I had I wouldn't be any better than he is, and he and my other foster parents had taught me better than to seek revenge. It still didn't sit right with me. I asked if I could see my mother before we left for home.
Dad shook his head and said, "I don't think she would like you to see her all busted up."
I begged him and said. "If it was me lying in the hospital, could you forgive yourself for not seeing me, not knowing if I was going to be alright Dad?" Mom said I had a valid point. Dad sighed heavily and agreed.
My mother had just woken up by the time we got there. It didn't bother anyone that Aaron and I were underdressed, or that we reeked of the outdoors. We both ran to my mother's bedside and gave her several kisses and hugs, hearing her groan between our sobs. She looked like she had been hit by a train with all the bruising on her arms and face. Mom apologized to the Rothwells for putting me in danger. My foster parents said. "There is no need to apologize for something that wasn't your fault." The nurse soon came in and told us that my mother needed to rest. Saying they would keep her here for a few days to make sure she was alright.
I told Mom she should press charges against my father, but she shook her head no. Telling us if she did, she would lose her family and never see them again. Having my father stated she was an unfit mother. Aaron would be placed in the system and her daughters would grow up with a monster and she would never see them or us ever again. Dad told my mother that my grandmother had my sisters and Dad, and my foster Mom would be happy to watch Aaron until she was out of the hospital and back on her feet.
Mom cried, holding both of us to say thank you. Telling me to watch over and take care of my brother. I promised I would, as the nurses slipped something into her I.V. and told us we needed to leave. Dad said. "Call us when you are ready." My mother nodded and closed her eyes while Aaron and I both kissed her on the cheek, telling her we loved her. My foster parents took us by the hand and took us home.
When we got home, Dad called my caseworker, having to call her at home since it was past working hours, and told her what had happened. Telling Dad, she would be by tomorrow around nine. She said nothing regarding me going to school tomorrow, but Mom, Dad, and I knew it was implied that I'd be homesick for the flu after eating too much Easter candy.
After a long hot bath given by Mom, Aaron and I felt better. Mom and Dad weren't concerned that Aaron didn't have any clothing here. Jared was roughly his size. All he needed was a pair of boxers and a shirt for dinner while Mom washed his shorts with the rest of the family's clothes. It didn't make much of a difference when it came to my brother. Everyone would think he simply belonged here and lived here all his life. Watching him run barefoot in a pair of boxers or going naked with the rest of my brothers. He was just as loved as anyone else in my Rothwell family. Well, except for three bad boys and those we are keeping him far, far away from. Stating the basement was off-limits unless Dad or Shane were down there using the weight room.
Aaron wasn't used to having family home evenings and having to pray morning, noon, and night, but neither did he complain about it. He was learning what it was like to have a family that was totally committed to each other and to God. Unlike everyone else, he didn't have a room or a bed to sleep in. He was more than happy to share mine and Shane's. Shane slept in the middle as he held us both in his arms, with Mom kissing all three of us goodnight.
When my caseworker arrived the following morning, she had already visited with my mother, and they had decided it would be best that Aaron stayed here with me until they could decide what to do about my father. My mother had given her consent to the Rothwells to be temporary guardians for my brother, and not become a ward of the State, but everything comes with a price. My father would seek help for himself and marriage counseling for him and my mother. Until such time he can be returned to my mother, Aaron will remain here and attend school with Jarred and Jason instead of homeschooling starting tomorrow morning.
Telling them the same rules didn't apply to my brother when it came to being held back. He wasn't one of their foster kids and he wasn't a ward of the State. Meaning they wouldn't receive a steady paycheck, but my father would be the one fitting the bill when it came to food, clothing, and medical care. Giving my foster parents a cashier's check signed by my mother and a copy of my father's medical card. Rothwells had to agree that Aaron and I would see the doctor this afternoon for a complete physical and checkup. I cringed when she said it, knowing needles were going to be involved.
She and Officer Kenly had stopped at the house and brought back the items that were in my backpack and both pairs of my sneakers as well as some of Aaron's clothing. Well, the best of what they could find, which wasn't much. Unlike me, he didn't have multiple wardrobes. I didn't ask about my sisters, and nobody said anything regarding them. It was simply implied they were either with my grandmother or with my father. Considering my mother was still in the hospital.