Chapter 11-2
Fathers and Sons
Part 3
Mom opened the door and told him he could leave at any time, having my father simply sit on the couch and watch TV while the rest of us waited either outside on the open patio or in the kitchen. Mom decided to order pizza for all of us instead of fixing a big meal that would take hours and it would mean we would have a late supper. Besides, it had been a long day, not in a good way by in any means, and no one wanted to talk about it even more so having my sisters and my father in the next room listening in to our conversations.
Mom was a little surprised that Shane, unlike his father or mother, didn't have the same strict habits when it came to prayer before every meal, and in a way, it made things less awkward. But neither did she push it considering we were both sitting on doughnut pillows grimacing every time we even moved, but the warm bath with Epson's salts did help, and the small pain killer.
By the time my caseworker and Officer Kenly arrived, we all had a clean pair of boxers and shorts and shirt if we chose to wear one, but it was my mother's rule. So, she simply folded them with the rest of our clean clothes, setting all our shoes inside my closet along with their suitcases. Mom knew my father hated it and could see it in his eyes as he watched us all go barefoot and shirtless while he and my sisters were fully dressed. The heat alone should have been enough to drive a person crazy, even with the air conditioner or swamp cooler on the roof going full blast didn't help much.
I was already missing the central air at home or wanting to dive into that nice cool pond. I really wanted to offer my father and sisters an electric blanket or winter coat and ask if they were warm enough. Even Shane was as complex as I was, wondering why my father and sisters remained so fully dressed. Meanwhile, the rest of us normal people were finding ways to stay cool. If I wasn't so afraid of the basement, we all would stay down there where it wasn't a blast furnace.
Even though my room was quite small, it was the only place where we wouldn't be disturbed other than leaving the house, but knowing the questions that would be asked of us we didn't want other ears like my father and my sisters to be listening in. Officer Kenly and my caseworker stated up front that we either tell them the truth about what was going on. Or be held accountable for being associated with the crime that was taking place and had been taking place for a very long time.
After making several promises that what we said would not leave this room, we realized that if our foster parents found out, our lives and trust in them would be in danger. My mother calmly told her I had told her everything. So, there was no need to worry about her keeping our secrets. However, my caseworker had decided that it would be best to talk to each of us individually. That way, none of us knew what the other said, and either way, it would tell them what the truth was and what wasn't.
They both her and Officer Kenly swore that if we told her the truth, she would divulge nothing, but warned us if it ever happened again, she would take matters into her own hands, but for now, she just wanted to know what Shawn and anyone else had done. That included the "skateboard accident." Which she had figured out was no accident but wanted to hear it from our lips. The past was the past. It was our futures they were concerned about.
It was almost ten before we finished, and neither were they happy finding out that it had gone on so long as far back as James and several foster kids I never knew about. My caseworker was appalled by everything from all the physical abuse over the years and now just finding out about the sexual abuse. She was angry that not one caseworker had taken the time to find out what was taking place until now. If only someone would have said something all this could have been avoided.
Yet there were changes now in the current laws, but those changes came too late to help me or them. Since now it would be dismissed as he said she said with no proof. Which meant eventually I was going to have to go back, but for now, she was extending my visit. Until they could decide what to do about the problem when it comes to Shawn, Danny, and Arthur. With such weak evidence. They would be released within seventy-two hours, and it would take weeks or even months to comb back through all the data, and even then, was going to take a hell for Mary to get any of it to stick.
No one liked keeping secrets from Mom and Dad, but if we didn't, it would increase the chance that Dad would snap, and our close-knit family could be destroyed. Shane agreed that if anything happened regarding any kind of abuse that my caseworker should be notified and our close friend like Brother Sakes if no one was available. Both Shane and I told them that Bishop Crawford could not be trusted, but for the moment we needed to act like everything was fine and Dad and Mom just needed time to cool off.
Easy for Shane to say, considering he was leaving for the MTC soon. This left me to be open season. The session ended when the phone rang, having my mother told us it was my foster Dad on the phone, and he wanted to speak to Shane. The look in Shane's eyes said it wasn't a phone call that he was looking forward to.
Unlike home, no one could listen in on the conversation, but what was said was that Dad was indeed pissed off. Even more so, having the State Police drag our three bad boys to Juivey until a decision could be made. Hoping in some way one of them would come forward, but it was unlikely. Shane was a pro when it came to defusing Dad's anger, but I knew that face and it was worried when he said. "Dad, we are all fine and we'll be home Saturday night after the fathers and sons camp out. I promise we will all behave and say our prayers." Shane rolled his eyes when he said it. Knowing perfectly well that he would be lucky if we said one. Right now, all of us were having trust issues with Mom and Dad. Even more so after an invasive procedure that still felt painful. I barely caught the words We love you, son, but Shane didn't respond back just silently hung up the phone. When it rang again, Shane picked it up and hung it back up, and unplugged the phone from the wall jack.
My mother knew better than to ask regarding it, remembering just days ago when it happened to me. Prompting me to shore up my dams in case something like this ever happened. In some ways, I had overreacted in others. I didn't say enough, but either way, another dark secret has been brought into the light and it wasn't any of us that exposed it. In some ways, it was a good thing, knowing now for the first time since its conception my foster parents are going to have to face it.
With a tired yawn, we each said goodnight. My father standing guard over my sisters not trusting my foster brothers to not to rape his so-called innocent daughters, had them sleep in the living room with him to keep an eye on them. Since my room was too small, not everyone could sleep in it. So, Mom had my two younger brothers sleep in Aaron's room and Shane sleep in my room. My father warned us if he catches any of us crossing the living room threshold, he will slit each of our throats, stating that it was not just a threat but a promise showing us the large kitchen knife and ran his finger under his neck. None of us had any doubts he would try, but was yet to be seen if he would live long enough to do it.
It wasn't long before someone jiggled the handle, finding it bolted shut. I knew if it was my mother she would give three knocks within a minute apart then ask if she could come in. If was Aaron and my two foster brothers, it would be five knocks before they asked me to come in. We had gone over the escape route before Officer Kenly left, so I knew it was my father who was just testing to see if I was stupid enough to leave my door unlocked. I also knew Aaron, and they had most likely bolted his door shut like he does every night, considering none of us trusted my father. He and my brothers could easily escape through his own window that faced the front yard and be in safe hands in a matter of minutes.
Normally Shane would have climbed in bed with me or I, him, but my bed wasn't big enough for the two of us to fit comfortably, and besides it hurt too much to lie on our backside so our normal sleeping positions would not work. When the pain got to be unbearable, we both growled Shawn's name. He didn't know that Shane and I both wanted a piece of him, for making us go through this just so everything could go back to the way it used to be. When Mom and Dad considered all foster kids nothing more than mindless, unfeeling mule boys. But the past was the past and if I had the power to change things. I wouldn't be suffering with the problem of. If I hated, loved, or feared my foster parents. Right now, they are still the closest thing I have to real parents.
Like always, Shane was asleep before I was while I lay there listening to his soft breathing. I had asked him earlier regarding me telling Bishop Earl what was taking place at home and felt bad that I had broken a promise. Only to have him tell me he too had broken that promise and made the mistake of telling Bishop Crawford about it, having him tell him that there was no need for him to be concerned. It was just boys being boys. Asking why he and I hadn't tried it by sharing the same bed.
When he said it, Shane said he felt sick and vomited several times in the restroom. The powerful spirit he had before he went in was gone, and he felt dirty. He prayed for hours, asking God if it was still ok for us to share the same bed. It was days before he felt good about it and was afraid to even touch me or hold me in his arms like he had done before. It was worse seeing me and him naked together as we played in the sun or swam in our favorite pond.
He felt he was immoral and that what we were doing was going against God and felt dirty instead of the love he had felt before. When he looked at our close net family, sharing ourselves openly. Instead, he felt ashamed and embarrassed, wanting to cover up and hide behind a tree, or be so far under the water so no one could see him completely naked. When he looked over at his mother and sisters, all he saw was their nakedness for the first time in a long time. He felt that he was looking at a porn magazine and had been caught red-handed. Seeing his arousal made it even worse. Which explained that day to me why he took off in such a hurry, telling everyone he needed to leave, and didn't come back until we were decent. He would even back out of a room if any of us were not when he had seen us a hundred times over in just our skin and stopped participating in family activities.
That one afternoon he was staring out watching the sheep grazing. He had a strange feeling as if someone were watching him. When he turned around, Bishop Lanwall and Brother Sakes. Who was now the new first counselor to Bishop Crawford, walking towards him? Telling him they had been sent to discuss a private matter. At first, he thought that they wanted to talk about Shawn and why he hadn't done exactly what Bishop Crawford suggested. Yet it wasn't the case. They wanted to talk about brotherly love regarding him and his younger brothers and me, and several other problems he was going through in his life. Questioning our carefree lifestyle that he and I had been raised in.
He never felt the spirit so strong and soon understood what I felt when I shook Bishop Earls and Bishop Lanwall's hand. He didn't see the pulsating light in their eyes; he felt it and the darkness that had surrounded him for days after speaking to Bishop Crawford was gone and replaced with such love; he wept for hours knowing that God did not feel that he and I were doing anything wrong.
That God considers us brothers from the same womb. That what Bishop Crawford wanted was to take away that feeling and taint it, destroy the openness we both share with each other and his parents and sisters. I didn't bother me seeing him cry. In fact, because we are so open to each other it made me feel loved that he would share his heart and soul with me. Shane and I prayed together often, but since he shared this with me, it meant more than just something to satisfy our parents.
We both agreed that some secrets when it came to abuse of any kind should never be kept, but also only to be told when you trusted them, and you knew God trusted them to keep them and find ways to help you through it. He and I both made a promise to each other that we never keep secrets from each other. If one of us felt bad or embarrassed about anything, we would be open about it and work on the problem together. I asked him if any more dark secrets are happening in the home that I didn't know of. He answered yes, but he'd rather not give me nightmares, but all I said was, "Shane nightmares happen regardless if you are there beside me or not. I would face zombies without peeing my pants." He cringed and told me about the turntable.
(Recapping turntable)
The turntable is a specially built closet that someone would sit in, strapped down with leg and arm clamps to keep you secure. It has its own personal toilet, which you are sitting on, and a built-in shower with only cold water, which is run through a constant chilled device. Like a bucket where Dad drops dry ice to freezing temperatures.
You are tortured with low volts of electricity that can be attached with small wires to different parts of your nervous- system using a lubricant jell substance and duck tape to keep it in place. Like your arms, chest, and upper and lower parts of your legs and feet. Depending on how high he cranks the current. It can cause unbelievable pain for short periods of time and sometimes burns or blisters your skin. If it goes on long enough and high enough, you will black out for several minutes. Or until you are brought back with the frozen water only to repeat the process.
The reason it is called the turntable is that this closet can be turned around facing a cement wall in complete darkness. To the naked eye when a person such as my grandmother or caseworker, they sees nothing but a closet full of clothes. While it is locked solid in place by a special hidden key in six places and a hidden lever in the floor, covered over with thick plywood that must be inserted with a different key or the panel will not open.
One other thing, you can scream all you want, because it is also soundproof. This is one of the darkest secrets that is kept down in the basement. Also, one of the hardest things to prove that is there. Considering that it is nearly impossible to uncover unless you have the right keys and open them in a predetermined order, that changes from week to week or day to day at random. If someone does it incorrectly, it triggers an alarm. Dad is the only one that knows the correct combination of the box and the alarm. Trust me, you don't want to be in it or when he turns the box to hide you when guests are in the house, or there is a surprise inspection. All Dad has to do is press a button, and the box turns and locks it in place, regardless of whether you are in it or not.
Dad only uses this device to get you to tell him the truth if he feels that if all other punishments are ineffective and can easily break a person in less time. He had used a device like this in prison and was quite effective on nearly every foster kid, but has used it on his own when nothing seemed to work. I cringed just thinking about it and prayed I would never have to experience it.
Shane said he was in it twice during his life and he wakes up with nightmares still. One of the main reasons he is so terrified of Dad when he disobeys him regarding how a foster kid should be treated, which explains why he continues with prison-style strip searches and his "retraining program," because Dad would remind him and everyone else if he didn't do it then he would place him or her in it until they did. I asked him if he told Officer Kenly about it and said no because it is one of the hardest things to prove without using a sledgehammer or other tools to expose it when it is locked down tight.
He asked me to promise that I would say nothing about it to anyone. That Dad was only using it when he felt he could not get the truth any other way, and I knew it was boarder on abuse, but I gave him my word. But I said if Dad goes too far as he did with the cattle whip, then all promises would be null and void. Shane told me Dad would most likely never use it on me. Considering I am nothing like the other foster kids and had always told him the truth as long as I kept doing so. I would never see it or experience it, and the fact I was still terrified of basements is in some ways a good thing because that's where it is located.
Besides, everyone in the family had been put in it well except for Jared and Jason, but they knew about it and had been threatened enough times if they didn't tell the truth they too would experience it. I knew Shane was right, so I promised that I wouldn't say anything until I had left the Rothwell home, and now when it had been years since then to tell the world my life story.