Chereads / My Life & How It Has Changed Me Book 3 / Chapter 8 - Chapter 6 Book 3

Chapter 8 - Chapter 6 Book 3

Chapter 5

Eye Of The Tiger

We have all heard of the song Eye Of The Tiger Rocky 3 theme song. So, at the very moment, this song is playing through my head as I step up and take on my father once more. Mom wasn't happy about the idea of me getting back into the ring but realized I had a valid point. I was training for mine, my mother's, and my brother's life. These three people meant more to me than any trophy or prize, so, in the end, she was going to support me, even more so when my brother was going home by the end of the school year.

I had let Aaron train with me, except for the fighting aspects. Aaron didn't have a bike of his own, like my two sisters. It was forbidden by my father to prevent either of us from running away. I find that funny in some ways, considering he uses it as an excuse to blame my disappearance to his advantage. So, I had Mom and Dad take Aaron and me down to the bike store in town and bought him one out of my own savings. It was just a simple standard kid's bike, nothing special, just something he could ride the neighborhood with and ride back and forth to the pool and gym with me, along with Jared and Jason. After all, it was just practice and would free Mom and Dad up to do other things.

Even though I had quit because of some health issues, I was welcomed back with open arms and a round of cheers and picked up where I had left off. But my primary goal wasn't for the glory or the recognition, it was for me and no one else. I no longer had anything to prove to anyone, neither did I slack off, instead I worked just as hard or harder. My mother was all for it and was more than happy to fit the bill. In fact, she insisted on it, even though I could have paid for Aaron's training fees and my own. My mother wouldn't hear of it and sent a cashier check to cover the costs for Aaron's training fees and gear, which was almost 800 dollars in total.

I could just imagine the look on my father's face when he found it missing. Like I said before, my mother believes she has money to burn. I knew differently, so I coughed it up the biggest share of it out of my own savings and sent most of the money back to her. Telling her we were able to get it at a discount family rate of 150.00 dollars. Even with a small portion of the bill, my father was going to go through the roof. I am not saying I had money to burn myself, but I felt it was for a good cause and Mom and Dad agreed to it, by purchasing all the gear and clothing Aaron would need, leaving me to pay for the remaining balance.

It didn't matter what I did, I would always be the enemy when it came to the three bad boys (Shawn, Danny, and Arthur) and their friends. I wanted no part of their so-called club and Mom and Dad kept them on a short leash. I had gotten into several fights with them, but I could hold my own. Mom and Dad only interfered when the situation got out of control, which wasn't often or often enough knowing that if I wasn't in control, I could seriously hurt them, but I had promised Mom and Dad that I wouldn't maim to cripple or kill them.

Bruising them severely, on the other hand, was allowed, or making them unable to fight me by a clear knockout was acceptable, or missing teeth or a broken nose, if a knockout didn't take place. Mom and Dad told them they were lucky that I went easy on them and would make up for it with their own punishment, earning further hatred towards me because I wasn't getting punished for fighting. I was simply allowed to walk away and wash their blood off me while Mom and Dad tended to their injuries and not in a kind way.

When came to family outings like skinny dipping. Mom and Dad didn't force any of us to join in on the fun, but neither did Dad exempt Mom nor my sisters from skinny dipping with us. Considering Mom and Dad had lifted that restriction a long time ago soon after the roundtable meeting and not ignoring the fact they were spying on them, anyway. Or the fact Dad had found and taken all their porn magazines while he was doing a regular routine search of their rooms for the missing tranquilizers. Which said that one naked woman was nothing they hadn't seen before and was doing their best to make it part of the norm instead of a sexual mentality, but I had the feeling that it was too late for them, noticing how quickly that they had declined by wearing trunks instead, most likely to try to hide their hard rock penises after seeing a pair of tits.

I don't know what could have been worse, having them show they're tightly bulged under their trunks or without them. Besides, I can guarantee Mom, and my sisters have seen their share. In any case, it did not affect the rest of us, not even Kerry's new husband seemed to be aroused that easily seeing his wife or Moms or Jody's as they ran towards the water. Sorry boys, but it would take more than that for the rest of us to get aroused. Not even Aaron had any difficulty seeing three naked women jumping into the water running by him, and he was thirteen at the time.

 They could have been another boy or my mother as far as he or we were concerned, and he wasn't part of the family. Even though he called them "Mom and Dad" like the rest of us. After a long debate with our mother and me that it was more than alright to do so, and after a while, the strangeness passed after I had explained that I had several Mom and Dads, one more wasn't going to matter. My mother agreed, but I could see the hurt in her eyes, knowing that a part of herself was being shared and taking away a bit of what made it special. It was also the last time he called her "Mamma."

Susan and Becky soon afterward used it as well, having our mother tell them that she rather be called Mom rather than Mamma as if they were still little children, not teenagers who will soon reach adulthood in a few years. Even Daddy simply became Dad, but not for me. He would always be Jim, my abuser. I only use the words "my father" to reference him for all those Dads that I respect and had earned that title and will do so forever.

Mom and Dad did their best regarding making it a part of the norm, even explaining that sexual arousal was a choice, compared to other ways that it happened. Like me, they knew perfectly well how and where babies came from and had taken the same classes as I had and had the same detailed discussion regarding the "big sex talk" but it didn't change the fact that it embarrassed them and excited them. So, Mom and Dad simply let it go, hoping in time they too would just think it was part of the norm and just get tired of seeing a woman's body as a sex object, instead of something beautiful the way God had intended to be, and that's were Mom and Dad made their mistake, if they hadn't let it go the following events wouldn't have happened.

My mother hated the idea regarding my home-visits had been terminated until she could prove that her home would be a safe environment. Yet she also understood that my father couldn't be trusted when it came to home-visits at home, so every chance she got she came to visit me every weekend for a few hours or an overnighter every so often, but my father would forbid it and make it harder for her to even spend time with me and Aaron. Yet when my mother wants something bad enough, she usually gets it.

Aaron, on the other hand, was under no obligation when it came to home-visits because he wasn't under the State's umbrella law. All she had to do was show my caseworker that my father had changed enough by marriage counseling to release him back into her care. The Rothwells did their best to prevent that from happening, but they too didn't have a leg to stand on. Unless my mother was willing to hand him over to the State and place him into the system, then they couldn't prevent her from taking him. Which was never going to happen. If she could have, I would have gone with my brother as well.

Once more, the DDS stepped in to guarantee Aaron's safety when it came to my father. No longer would tranquilizers or drugs that can incapacitate you be allowed in the home. Nor will he be allowed to beat up on either my mother or my brother without stiff consequences that could lead to jail time. Implementing surprise visits in the home, church, and school, where they will inspect any marking, or bruising that cannot be explained. He may not be under the same contract as my mother, but neither will he go Scot-free. He would simply spend some time in a jail cell or not be allowed in the home until he could prove that he wasn't a danger.

My mother told me that since my room was secure again having the walls reinforced with metal plating inside the wall to prevent him from chopping it down with an ax and the window had been lowered with a removable quick release that would allow Aaron or I to remove it and jump to the ground easily if we needed to escape. Aaron had taken my room until I came home again. She also told me that Officer Kenly and Bishop Earl had set up safe checkpoints that either of us could go to closer to home. All we had to do was simply open the door and bolt it shut and the people inside would notify the local authorities. Each home was close enough that we could be there in a matter of minutes, one on either side of us and two behind us, and one across the street. I knew my father didn't like the arrangements, but he brought it on himself.

Mostly my mother was hoping that the Rothwells would reinstate my home-visits, but Dad left the decision up to me, expressing strongly that in his and Mom's opinion we should wait and see. I declined and agreed with them, telling my mother that I loved her, and I trusted her, but when it came to my father. No deal on the table could convince me that I would be safe in her home with him there. I knew it hurt her, but I was perfectly happy here and even more so having my old life back.

School hadn't ended yet by the time Aaron went home, kicking and screaming because he enjoyed having me close by and he had bonded with the Rothwells except for the three bad boys who only bonded to themselves and their private club of misfits. In some ways, I wish I could have gone with him. If I had a crystal ball, I most likely would have, then faced what was coming. I had mentioned before how I didn't trust the new Bishop and for a good reason. I never liked the Bishop who took Bishop Lanwall's place. Something always told me not to trust him. I didn't need Jeff to tell me that he couldn't be trusted with sensitive information, unlike Bishop Lanwall or Bishop Earl.

His name was Bishop Crawford. I don't remember his first name, but I recall that he was a short, tubby fat man that could have been a circus ringmaster trying to get you to buy a ticket to see a peep show. Black oily receding hair that did little to cover his baldness, instead of soft brown eyes his was dark almost black and when they looked at you it made you feel dirty inside.

He reminded me of a portly snowman from his head to his feet that looked like clown feet when he walked. When you shook hands with him, it always made me feel like I needed to take a bath. There was no light behind these eyes, and there wasn't a feeling of peace and serenity. Even though he was a man of God and called by God when he gave his testimony, you didn't feel moved in any way. At first, I thought it was just me, but even my best friends and their fathers said something was off with his guy.

It didn't make me feel better when we learned later on that he had been excommunicated soon after for sex crimes, creating a prostitution ring, and drugs by selling them to his congregation with the help of some of the teachers and priest and a few elders to help build their missionary funds and pay for nice homes and cars or kids college fund. It was a huge scandal and rocked the small town of Highland Utah at the time.

Like I said early on, sometimes it does happen. After all, they are just as perfect as the rest of us when it comes to poor judgment and bad mistakes. But Dad and Mom were taken in like the rest of the ward, since the majority liked the guy, being Dad was a man of God, and his family followed him. The guy could do no wrong in his and her eyes.

Shane was in some ways a fence sitter at times, but even he had to admit that there was something off. When the three bad boys and their friends were welcomed with open arms and were given a free pass when everyone in the house knew what they were doing down in the basement. Dad and Mom refused to talk about it, and if any of us did, the punishment was heavy-handed. Dad would say that they each had confessed their crimes to the Bishop, and the Bishop told him not to worry about it so much that all boys "experiment" once in a while. That alone should have told him that there was something wrong with the guy. He even seemed proud that Shawn had been returned to fulfill his Aaronic Priesthood duties blessing and passing the sacrament and going home teaching.

It was when he questioned it. When it came to where they got the money to buy nice clothes and other things that were above their allowance. They would say they were gifts, or they earned them by doing odd jobs for Bishop Crawford and some of the members of the ward, having the Bishop back it up. Not even Shane and I were that thrifty when it came to spending our money, but Mom and Dad stopped questioning it and would say. "If the Bishop said it was ok, then it came straight from God's mouth."

Shane and I told Mom and Dad that we were propositioned by Bishop Crawford to deliver sealed packages across town to help with our so-called missionary fund and college fund, but we both turned down the offer. Telling him we already had employment. After all, I had a job for the summer and some extra when it came to mowing the neighbor's lawns when spring arrived and worked all the way until fall. Plus, working on ranches tending sheep and cattle on the weekends.

When Shane graduated from high school, he did it full-time while he waited for his mission call. Dad simply said that the Bishop was just trying to "help" and we had nothing to be concerned about since Shawn and Danny had made a three-sixty turnaround, and it was because of Bishops Crawford's influence by taking them both under his wing. Stating they are seldom in trouble as much as they used to be.

Even Arthur was given a job working around the neighborhood, he didn't make as much as the other two boys and their friends, but he made more money than Shane and me sometimes, When it was questioned Bishop Crawford would say they were just being generous and didn't want to make Arthur feel bad and offered again to help with "jobs" for Shane and me closer to home. Dad suggested it could benefit us, but it was our choice, so once again we declined the offer, saying we both liked our current jobs and our employer, and I knew that painted a target on my back.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 6

Compromise

 

Shane had gotten his mission call to Argentina and would depart for the mission field at the end of the summer. I can guarantee you that if it had gone through Bishop Crawford alone, he would have never gone through, but the LDS church doesn't function with one man at the head like other churches do. Everything goes through proper channels.

Yes, it is true you need the Bishop's signature and need to be interviewed by him, but you also have to be interviewed by the Stake President in your area and sent on further up the food chain all the way up to the Twelve Apostles which is the second-highest governing body in the LDS church. The First Presidency is the highest, giving the final stamp of approval. Even if the request is denied by the Bishop, he better have to have a good, valid reason, but either way, he answers to the Stake President and others above him. It's the same way when you are excommunicated. Unfortunately, Bishops are not interviewed or called by the twelve or the First Presidency. Many of us believed that money had changed hands, at the time we had no idea who, but that soon would become clear in the months to follow.

 

* * * * *

Ward Callings

 

The stake presidency recommends brethren to be called or released as bishops (see 19.6). The stake president also oversees the calling of counselors in the bishopric, ward clerks, assistant ward clerks, and ward executive secretaries. The bishop oversees other callings in the ward, as shown in the Chart of Callings.

 https://www.lds.org/handbook/handbook-2-administering-the-church/callings-in-the-church?lang=eng#19.1.4

 

* * * * *

I hated to see Shane leave, but I also knew the time was coming. But you can't stop from growing up as much as I wanted to. Pa's words still echoed in my head. 'You can't stop change; it always happens with or without you. If you did, then there would be no reason to live or grow. Everything must change or nothing will happen. All you can do is to be prepared when it happens. Not even God could stop change nor would he want to. We are born, we grow and learn, and we die. It's how we live that makes the difference.' And he was right. I can't stop change.

It all started to snowball when Jared and Jason had gone to Brother Sakes for advice, in some ways it was my fault for telling them that he was the smartest person I knew and they could trust him or our old Bishop, Bishop Lanwall, and Brother Nile's.

My mother had earned her trust with the Rothwells and proved that with my father in the house, I would be safe, and the measures that were in place would ensure my safety. I was a regular Rambo when it came to kickboxing and gained back my fighting edge with hard work and determination so that I could easily take down my opponent and suffer very little injury to myself. Even more so against my father or my mother if the occasion roses.

Yet he and I still didn't trust my father, having me insist that I be given back my special wristwatch. Of course, he agreed to it. Adding a small hidden compartment big enough to hold a small needle, which would minister a drug in liquid form to lessen the effects of the tranquilizers in a matter of minutes by a simple push of the same button. Having trained and practiced it a couple of times and timed the effects. It was good for one tranquilizer, giving me the extra edge in a fight if that ever happened. I hated needles, but being dead was worse. It would also give time for either my mother or my brother to go for help, while the authorities arrived after pushing the button or if the link was broken by cutting it off my wrist.

Not even my mother was allowed to know regarding that extra edge, and again I would have to call every day by 9:30 pm or he would come without fail warning me not a second later or there would be every police car at the house within minutes. Adding that I and the house would be searched for markings without notice or warning, to ensure my safety, warning my mother on arrival that I should be treated like a carton of eggs, in other words. "Don't squeeze the Sharman."

Since school was out. Mom was allowed an entire week and a couple of days. I would leave on Friday and come back on next Monday the following week after by 4:00 pm. In the same condition, I am presently in after a quick nondescript strip search, which was really no big deal, having my mother give a soft pat to my bare bottom. Only let me leave in a pair of new shorts, even though she did consider about leaving those behind as well, considering she really enjoyed seeing "all of me" not in not a sexual way, even more so that I was well muscled toned, that if young girls saw me, they would bite their lips saying yummy.

I know from experiences being poolside or picking me up from gymnastics, having them accidentally bump into me, just so they could feel my hard rock abs and my powerful arms. Having my sister Jody fight them off with a stick or push them into the water, having her say. "I am sorry, but that's my brother you are ogling at, and his all mine." Draping her arms around my bare shoulders and would sometimes pinch my butt because she can, to prove her point.

Mom would have taken me that way if she could have gotten away with it in the open public. Giving a heavy sigh, handing me my boxers and shorts, placed my sneakers inside my backpack with my music and scriptures, telling my foster parents. "I doubt he would need any more than this, and my father could go to hell if he doesn't like it."

My foster Mom giggled, giving me several kisses on my cheek, lingering her fingers across my broad strong back and shoulders, and patted my bottom. "One week without "seeing him" seems cruel, having to share my son with another woman, even though she is his own mother." Which stated, don't break my golden Tiger or be prepared to die. Lingering on my hard abs long enough to feel uncomfortable, and patted my cheek, and looked directly into my eyes, telling me. "Go get them, Tiger." I had grown tall over the years, my head reaching my Dad's shoulders and I was almost as tall as my foster Mom only lacking a few inches, and almost a full head taller than my mother.

For a change, I was the eye candy that everyone wanted. If they could have split me in two, they would have. Dad walked me to the car to give me a final hug and one from Jody, telling my mother. "If his sisters mark him in any way, she'll kill them with my bare hands, and that's a promise, and give Aaron two extra kisses from me and two nice loving pats on his very cute bare bottom." Stressing "bare bottom," which made everyone laugh, which gave me a big grin knowing my mother wouldn't have it any other way. But I also knew my father, and he was going to be furious when we arrived not being even close to decent in his eyes and that too gave me a reason to grin. In fact, I nearly stripped off my shorts and went completely naked, and knowing I could have done so and no one would have batted an eye, more so my mother. I only didn't because of my father.

Mom reached over and took my hand and had me pull closer so she could drape her right arm over my bare shoulders and still have control of the steering wheel. Told me that she had planned a full week of fun in the sun at our favorite spot, and she purchased another bathing suit for the pool. I said. "He's not going to like it, Mom. Are you sure want to anger him? We could always stop at a clothing store on the way home or turn back and put on some clothes?"

Mom took a good look at me, patted my bare hard stomach, and said "What, cover up my very handsome Sunshine? I'd feed him to zombies before that happened," pausing only long enough to kiss my cheek with one eye on the road and said. "Besides me and your father have made a compromise," Pulling into our driveway.

Right away, I could see changes to that so-called compromise as I watched Aaron riding the bike I had given him only wearing a pair of shorts and waving to his new friends all dressed similarly to him. Mom grabbed my backpack handing it to Aaron so he could put it in my room and told him that dinner would be ready around six, which was two and a half hours from now. I could smell the pot roast the second I stepped inside. My father growled, "Boy!"

I growled, "Jim." In not in a friendly way, but in some ways, it put us on an equal playing field. Not once have I ever called him Dad, father or Pa, nor would he ever had allowed it. Mom told me to take a seat on the couch and patted a spot near her. I knew we were about to have that talk since Mom didn't elaborate when she said "compromises." They had made. Like me, we both controlled the monster inside of us, knowing that I could kill him in a matter of heartbeats. And when he looked into my eyes just for a brief second, I could see fear as he eyed my muscular, lethal body. I didn't break contact until he did, watching him give me a grotesque smile that had no warmth or love in it.

When he looked away, he relaxed by dropping his shoulders as if he was saying; I had won this round, but he could strike like a cobra if he chose to. So, I did likewise, leaning back a bit to show I too was ready to strike him not knowing I eat cobras to whet my appetite. My father seemed shorter than the last time I had seen him, as I questioned where this mighty giant was that I had feared so much.

Mom nodded to Aaron, giving some sort of signal that for him not to disturb us and go out the back door. My father had never been a patient or nice man before he spoke, he was always had been cruel and angry towards everyone, more so to me and Aaron as well as my mother, but it was a completely different case in regards to my two sisters Susan and Becky, but years later that too would change when he and Susan kick Becky to the curb and get rid of my mother and I don't mean by a divorce. Aaron and I suspected they had killed her by an overdose or poison of some kind or both, yes they hated her that much.

He told Aaron to tell my sisters to get home. Then returned his full attention to me and said, "Boy, I don't have to tell you how I feel about you are being in my house and back under my roof. If it was up to me, you'd be dead and your savage, immoral brother Or you could be rotting with those immoral fucking savages, but it seems once again you and your ungrateful mother have tied my hands when it comes to what I want and even your fucking grandmother refuses to stop meddling in my life. So, I will compromise by setting some ground rules, and by God, if you so much as step out of line, all end you and damn the mother fucking consequences."

Mom gave him a hard stare and said. "Please mind your language and your tongue."

My so-called father raised his voice and growled with spit drooling out of his mouth, "Bitch, shut your mother fucking mouth, I can fucking talk any God damn mother fucking way I want God damn like in my fucking house!" And you wonder where my sisters pick up such language? But my mother did keep quiet by giving him a hard stare, that if looks could kill, he would be dead right where he sat.

When he was sure she'd keep her mouth shut, he continued. "Rule one: no bathing, no sleeping with your fag-it brother. He has a God damn room, and you have a God damn room. Two: and I stress this. I do not like this, but once again, your fucking mother and bitching grandmother have tied my fucking hands. Do not and I mean it God damn it go running naked in my house when I am fucking here. I am willing but don't God damn push it, will allow you and your fucking brother against my fucking wish to wear no less clothing that you are wearing right now, or your God damn boxers when I am in my God damn house. for now, but don't get used to goddamn it, no I will change that the moment things are more settled.

"What you mother fucking do when I am not here, until then I don't fucking care, but that will---" Paused knowing he couldn't do anything with my mother having total control over things for the moment, said with a low menacing voice before coming close to yelling. "If you and your fucking brother get caught exposing in your immoral ways and you end up in God damn prison for it. Trust me and I hope and wish you both get raped every God damn day and your fucking throat slit. I will not lift one mother fucking finger to help you and that goes for your mother fucking mother. I do not God damn care what she has fucking over me. She can fucking die for as much as I God damn care." He took several breaths before he opened a cold soda and gulped it down quickly and crushed it with his hand, which said I'll crush you like I did with this can and threw it at my mother's feet, making her jump a bit.

Which in turn made him smile, bending back his fingers and saying, "Rule number three" Standing up and drew his face close to mine and spitting the words out that made me want to take a bath. "If you ever fucking touch my God damn innocent daughter's ever again in any way. I will fucking kill you and strip the God damn flesh of your fucking hide slowly so you can feel every piece of your mother fucking flesh being ripped from your fucking body and feed you to your fucking brother then gut him like a fucking pig.

He slapped my face hard enough to leave a lasting red mark but not a bruise, but I maintained the monster inside of me. I knew he was egging me on to fight him as I watched him reach for his belt, but stopped and grinned and slapped me again, calling me "fucking pussy." "Then slowly took his hand pinched my right nipple and slowly ran his hands down my chest and stomach, letting his fingers unbutton my shorts and worked my zipper, hoping I would stop him. I knew what he was doing. He wanted to see if I would take the bait. I knew he wouldn't rape me just make me feel uncomfortable, well I hoped he wouldn't go any further.

It was Mom who stopped him only to have me stop her from telling her. "If he wants to see what a real man's penis looks like, heaven forbid me to stop him." This caused my father to stop and turn his face bright red to avoid embarrassment.

Mom giggled and told him. "Go ahead, dear, but I never thought you liked boys that way or I would have found you a little plaything long ago. Considering you find having sex with your own wife after four beautiful children unappealing." Earning a slap across her face, my hands tightened only to have my mother grip my hand before either of us regretted it. He took his seat, glaring at me. I left my pants and zipper undone and leaned back, letting him think it didn't bother me. Trusting to the fact I have suffered worse many times over and he was just goading me into a fight. Letting him see my exposed skin underneath enough to make him feel uncomfortable.

I calmly said. "If you so much as touch me, my mother, or my brother, that leaves a lasting mark. All I have to do is push a button and you will spend every second in jail. If you so much as cut this off me," pointing to my wristwatch, "it will notify the authorities. If you think you can dispose of me before they arrive, you should know upfront. That inside my so-called immoral, savage body is a tracking device that will allow them to find me anytime and anywhere." I knew the technology didn't exist yet and had seen it on Star Trek, but he didn't know that, I took several calm breaths and continued on with my own threats, excuse me … rules.

"If you hold me prisoner for any length of time, providing you can outsmart the authorities by the time they arrive. If I miss a single deadline that stops me from making contact by phone or in person, it will unleash the dogs. God help you if they rip you apart limb by limb." I leaned forward and gave him my best tiger stare. "If your so-called innocent, precious daughters try to harm me in any way. I will defend myself, not kill or maim (cripple permanently.) And you should know up front that I couldn't care less what you think is immoral, nor do you scare me. I have fought bigger fish than you and walked away with barely a scratch." Unlike my father, I seldom, if ever use foul language. My standards are higher than his and my sisters'.

I stood up and dropped my shorts and tossed them to Mom so he could see my aroused angry membrane and my very tan muscular body, watching his face turn bright red. Right when my sisters walked in the front door gasping. I gave them a good look. Asked Mom if was alright if I took a nice long hot shower. Mom told me she'd grab me some towels. I knew I had just broken one of his rules, but I wasn't the one that unbuttoned my shorts or my zipper, I said. "If you wanted to "see all of me" all you had to do was ask." My father growled, ordering me to cover myself.

Mom said. "You started it, and I can guarantee you, dear husband, that your so-called innocent, precious daughters have seen boy's penises before, and you can thank your mother and me for that." Watching my father gasp like a fish, noticing neither of my sisters wasn't blushing as much as they used to.

I walked out of the room and climbed into the shower, Mom had told me earlier that my sisters had been caught looking into boys' shower rooms and so Grandma and she sat down with them and had "the talk" opening National Geographic's, medical books and a playboy, hoping to make it not such a big deal by taking the mystery out of it.

She also arranged for my two foster sisters and my foster Mom, to come down on Tuesday for an afternoon of fun in the sun at our favorite spot. To make them feel more comfortable when it came to women and girls other than my mother, hoping to help them to get over the fear of showering in girls' locker rooms. I knew my father was against it, but even if he couldn't stop the change, or prevent them from growing up, simply ignored the fact by walking away from the uncomfortable subject, leaving it for my mother and my grandmother to handle it.