Story: Being Chased

1/19/2012

My stepfather was chasing me to punish me for running after my sister with a knife. Why I was chasing her, with such anguish visible on my face, I have no idea. Yes, I should be punished. Punishing can often mean a painful backhanded slap on the head, or being hit with a folded belt. But this was different. The anger in his eyes, gritted teeth, and determination to grab me was terrifying. When I ran through the living room I pleaded with my mother to help me, and she didn’t say anything or do anything to stop this monster from hurting me.

I kept running, and ran through a door in to darkness. No one was chasing me. I was safe for now. But I don’t like the dark, I always sleep with a nightlight on, but even then I’m afraid of what’s under my bed or in my closet. I feel afraid so I keep running. I hear heavy breathing behind me and when I look back I’m being chased by a giant lion, just like in my dreams. I scream and try to run faster, but it seems like I’m stuck to the floor. But I run and come upon another of my frequent dreams: A witch is stirring a pot at a fireplace and has two men grab me to throw me in. Its real. It’s true – she’s an ugly witch and she wants me to burn in the fire. The men grab me and throw me in to the pot, but in my dream they only try to grab me but aren’t successful, and I awaken. But I didn’t wake up as I felt the heat from the fireplace coming quickly to me. I am thrown in.

Instead of being burned, I land on the grass in my backyard. The sun’s warmth is such a contrast to what I just experienced. I lay on the grass with my legs and arms extended, soaking up the bright sunlight. I can smell new cut lawn. A frog jumps up on my stomach, croaks, and jumps off. I had collected frogs from the nearby slew and those that lived through a terrible heat were let loose in the backyard. Weeks later my stepfather asked how there could be so many goddamn frogs in the backyard. I said nothing at the time. The frog that jumped up on me must be one of those frogs.

I smiled and stood up, feeling a little dizzy, and confused because moments ago I was terrified of my stepfather’s ugly wrath, and now I was standing in our quiet backyard. The only sounds I could hear were the cars on the street next to the fence. The noise became so great that I had to put my hands over my ears and shut my eyes as tight as I could.

When I opened my eyes I had a block of wood in my hands to make a car to race in the Cub Scout Derby. I had drawn the outline of a car on the piece of wood, but I had no idea of what to do next. I asked Dad if he could help me, he showed me some tools, but I was so clumsy I couldn’t even saw into the wood to make a shape. Here, let me show you, he said, rather gruffly I thought. He didn’t just show me, he took on the project himself and created the car I was supposed to make. At the Derby he was surprisingly upset that his (my entry) car didn’t win. His face looked so excited, but his disappointment was easy to see.

My cubmaster was the nicest man I’ve ever known, which isn’t saying much because I’ve never met another father that I liked. Mothers I liked, and I would talk to them when I went to their house. One den mother showed us how to make puppets, and it opened a whole new world for me when I created my first puppet, Fenwick. She showed me how to use yarn for a mane and tail on the large sock. I sewed and sewed, and really enjoyed it.

But my stepfather said the cubmaster was a homosexual and I needed to stop going to cub scouts. When I asked my mother why I couldn’t go to cub scouts (one of the few highlights of my week) she told me what Dad had said to her. What is that, homosexual? It’s a man who likes men, said my mom. I yelled at her that I liked men, too. But it’s different for you. No other explanation than that. I went to my room and cried, pulling my scout uniform out of my dresser, admiring the patches I’d received, and my cub scout hat that I proudly wore. Scouts was the only place I had ever played with other boys. I was so angry at my stepfather for doing this to me. I don’t know how I told the other boys, or the cub master, or what happened to my uniform, but I do remember how furious I was. I still am angry. I can feel the anger, but there’s nothing I can do about it, so I just hold it in. I closed my eyes and cried.

When my eyes opened we were at Twin Lakes camping. Dad got all the equipment, tent and sleeping bags from the Navy where he worked. I loved going camping, swimming in the lake, catching fish to fry for dinner. But I especially liked the camp gift shops selling lacquered wood with a picture of the campgrounds. I always brought money and I remember shopping as much as anything. I would buy comic books,  or the latest Mad magazine, and go back to camp and read. I hated getting up in the middle of the night to pee, and walking to the communal bathroom and then back to camp. My father held my hand, but he held it so tight. I wish he wouldn’t hold my hand so tight.

The bathroom door opened into a classroom, where I went to my seat. My stepfather was no where around, and I was relieved. I went immediately to my desk like the teacher asked, and a boy put his foot out to trip me and I almost fell down. I could hear laughter. When I got to my desk, I laid out my pencil and paper, getting ready for class to start. I couldn’t catch a ball so during recess I would play hopscotch. I tried to play foursquare but the boys were always so rough and did all they could to get me out of the game as soon as possible. No one would choose me to be on a team because I couldn’t catch a ball, and the boys would whine to the coach that if they had me on their team they were sure to lose the game. I got out of the game as soon as I could by screwing up in some way and sat on the bench watching the game. For baseball I tried to catch the ball, and wasn’t able to, and the other boys groaned in disappointment. Kickball I could usually do but couldn’t make it to first base before the ball went to the plate. I was very tired and lay back on the bench to take a nap.

When I woke up, the playground was empty, and it was close to getting dark. I wasn’t hungry, so I didn’t go home. I found a place under the slide and curled up there. But as it got darker, I started getting cold, started shivering, and decided to go home instead of spending the night at the playground. I didn’t want to go home because my stepfather would be there, and he would be mad at me for not coming home when I was supposed to, like right after school. I started walking back in the dark and saw a house with the front door opened and I walked in. Someone grabbed me from behind, picked me up, and it was almost as if he was going to throw me down on the floor, but someone stopped him. It was my stepfather. He grabbed me by the hair and tried to lift me off the ground. I screamed to let me go. Please, please, it hurts, it hurts, and then I felt his belt on my back and I started peeing in my pants like I always do when he spanks me, and someone turned the lights off and I was on the floor, trying to crawl back to the front door. Someone or something grabbed my foot and started pulling me back into the house. I was afraid now, frightened that the men had come back to put me in the fire. I screamed and screamed, and then everything stopped.

When I awoke I was in the hospital with an oxygen mask on and my head hurt so badly that I started crying. A nurse turned to me and had a big smile. You’re awake, Jimmy, you’re awake. We are so happy. Your parents will be happy, too. I was really thirsty so she brought me a cup of water, but it was warm instead of cold, but she had to prop me up in bed so I could sip the water. I was connected to a bunch of different wires, or long tubes, and lay back down and fell asleep. When I awoke, my mother and stepfather were standing over me. Oh, Jim, Oh, Jim, we thought we were going to lose you. We love you so much, and my mother started crying. My stepfather didn’t cry and he didn’t say anything to me. Just stared at me with just a hint of a smile, if you could call it that. Mom sat on the chair next to the bed and held my hand. We are so happy, so happy. I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

I found out later that I had an accident at the house and ran head first into the fireplace mantle and lost consciousness. I remembered I was running from my stepfather. He must have been still mad at me, and mad that I was in the hospital, and having to explain why I hit the mantle so hard that I was in a coma for three weeks. He was just running around the house playing, said my father. But I remember I wasn’t playing and I was being chased to be beat and screaming to my mother to help me. No one asked me to tell them what had happened. They believed the story my parents told them. I was in third grade so I guess my opinion didn’t matter.

I was in the hospital three more days and only once did my parents come to visit me. Hi, Jimmy, my dad said sounding really uncomfortable, how are you feeling today? I looked away from him and saw my mother standing behind him but she wasn’t smiling. He moved away and she sat next to me and patted my head and kissed my cheek, and said I would be home soon.

How do I tell someone that I don’t want to go home, that my stepfather terrifies me, that he punishes me so I pee in my pants, and then he started putting me over the toilet so I wouldn’t pee on the bed. Or that he said I couldn’t be in scouts, or that the only things he ever said to me were good morning and good night, and I told him I was getting too old to kiss him on the cheek goodnight, and I hated the feel of his scratchy beard on my face, and the kids at school make fun of me. Please, please take me away from here. Please take me far away where my stepfather can’t touch me or see me, where I can catch a ball, where I was more interested in sports than sewing clothes for my puppets, where I could be a boy my father would like.

I asked the nurse for a map of the hospital. I love looking at maps, I told her, and a few hours later she brought me a floorplan for the four stories, and pointed out where I was. Thank you. I love maps. I'm glad to see you interested in something, said the nurse, up til now you've been quiet and sad. How could I tell her what my stepfather was like, how much I needed help. If he found out I had told the nurse he would be mad at me again, and I didn't want that for anything.

I figured my room was two doors down from a stair exit. I could run down the stairs and out of the hospital. But then where do I go? I needed a map of the neighborhood. Where could I get another map?

Another nurse came in later that afternoon and she promised to bring me a street map, as she was happy I was showing an interest in something, anything, other than how I had been up until then.

Right outside the door of the hospital was a parking lot for short-term visitors. I will have to escape during the night if I didn't want to be seen. The parking lot emptied onto a side road that led to the hospital from the main street. What is across the street from the hospital? I'll need clothes. I asked my mother to bring me a set of clean clothes that “I will need when I leave the hospital.” I could barely sleep I was so excited, and afraid, of my plan.

Good news, the doctor announced, you will be released from the hospital tomorrow morning. Tomorrow? I don't want to leave tomorrow. Excuse me? He said, smiling and a surprised expression on his face. I'm really not feeling very well. I'm dizzy when I get up to go to the bathroom and I'm hardly eating anything. This will all sort itself out when you get home, said the doctor, still smiling. How do I tell him how bad it is at home with my stepfather? That I'm afraid of him and his punishments. Is this how all parents relate to their children? Never talking with me about anything that I like, or about school, or my friends...brutally punishing me with his belt...never doing anything fun with me, like go to a movie or to the zoo, just the two of us?

I can't go home, I decided. So I will have to leave tonight. I have no other choice if I want to live with any kind of peace.

I knew the nurses checked on my vitals every two hours, so I could get away after the 11 pm check. I had the clothes I needed, even a sweater (I might be really cold when you are bringing me home, I told my mom.) Since I was going to be released the next day I wasn't hooked up to many tubes and wires as I had been. This made it easier to prepare. I put my sweater on and that covered the IV opening in my arm, and any other marks from being in the hospital. Long pants, socks, shoes, all there for me. I quietly unhooked everything and waited ten minutes to see if there was any reaction from the nurses station. None. So I looked out my door and there was no one in the hall, so I tiptoed two doors down and found the stairs. My legs were really wobbly because I hadn't been walking for several weeks. But I had walked around my room and down the hall, with a nurse's help, to get my legs stronger.

I quietly opened the door and stepped down the three flights of stairs to an exit sign. I knew from the map that right outside was parking for the emergency ward. I quickly slipped out the door and crouched in front of a car very near the door. I stayed there a few minutes, looked over the car's hood, and saw another car one lane down in the parking lot that I could hide behind. Listened for quiet, and ran to the next car, and the next until I was at the edge of the parking lot. There was a slide down some grass to get to the exit road and my bum got soaked, all down my pants legs. Once I stood up, I felt 10 pounds heavier because of the water. I tried to squeeze as much as I could from the back of my pants legs, but only got my hands wet.

I hid behind a tree when I came to the road. This is the street I need to walk down to  get to the main road, and away from the hospital. Looking out I could see how bright the lights were on the street, so I'd have to see if there was an alley behind the shops and houses. But I hadn't counted on a guard at a gate! I gathered up some small rocks and threw them one at a time to the other side of the exit so the guard would have to leave the shack and investigate the weird sounds. I couldn't throw anything straight and the rocks fell short, so I couldn't make any noise to distract him. I sat behind the tree to wait for him to fall asleep (like in the movies) or get a distracting phone call. I waited and waited what seems like an hour. I needed to move while it was still dark. I crouched down and slid between the guardhouse and the fence and my shirt caught on one of the fence wires. I pulled it off, and it made the fence rattle. As the guard came out to walk around to see about the noise, I slipped through the other side and tiptoed to a nearby tree, sat behind it and took deep breaths. My chest hurt from having to hold my breath as I snucl around the guard, and I was afraid my deep breathing and wheezing could be heard from the shack.

A phone rang in the shack about 30 seconds later – my disappearance had been noticed, I'm sure. Yes, sir, I'll keep an eye out. You say he's only 8 years old? He won't get by this exit, I can tell you that. The guard stepped out of the shack and faced toward the hospital, looking for movement. With his back turned I stood up from behind the tree, stepped out, and tripped over something in the dirt, a root or something. I tried not to cry out, but it hurt and I think my arm was bleeding a little bit. I thought for sure I was going to be caught now, but just as I fell, the phone rang again. That's when I got on the exit road and walked and jogged to the main street. The light was so bright it made my eyes hurt.

My head hurt so bad, and I was weak from the escape, I decided to lie down behind some trash cans to see if I feel better. I am not going to fall asleep, I knew, because my clothes were wet, my arm hurt, and I was feeling dizzy. I won't lie down...I'll just lean back against the wall, but hiding behind the trash cans. I don't know how long I sat there, but a noise nearby made me wake up. I was groggy...I didn't want to fall asleep, and here I had done it. A cat ran down the alley, chased by another cat. They started wrestling. Then they started howling, really loud howling, like they were dying, and I knew someone would look out a window and see me. I did hear a window open and a guy yell down to the cats, which did nothing but make them howl louder. I needed to get out of there. I waited a few minutes and ran to some trash cans in back of a restaurant. Something smelled good, really good, because I was starving. I think I smelled french fries. They're probably in the trash can next to me, so I slowly stood up to peer over the edge, and a rat jumped toward me, making me knock the can over, rolling down the alley, dumping all the food out.

I was surprised there was no other sound in the alley. No yelling, or anything. I ran to the next building, but I couldn't run any more. I just couldn't. I hurt all over now. I guess this is as far as I'm going to get away from my stepfather. I started crying, and it seemed like I would for sure wake up people in the apartments, but by then I didn't care. I seemed to cry really loud, but trying to keep quiet, but I just leaned back against the wall and cried, about having to go home, about what would be waiting for me there, that I couldn't be in scouts, and why my mother sat there and didn't stop him and she could have, and how my head hurt, I was wet, my plans of running away...now I would be in even deeper trouble, oh god, he's going to kill me this time if he hits me again...I can't do anything right.

Just then a car came slowly around the corner into the alley and stopped by the fallen trash can. I think it's the police, I could see the panel of lights on top of the car, and a guy stepped out with a flashlight, put the can upright, and used the lid to scrape food back toward the can. He was making so much noise, but I knew I'd be found and taken back, and I started crying again.

The man looked up and shined his flashlight down the alley, and it stopped just as the beam came inches away from me. He turned the flashlight off, got back in his car, and backed out of the alley the way he'd come in. He would have had to see me, and why didn't he, and maybe he could help me, but I couldn't tell him what I was thinking. I sat against the wall and was wheezing to get my breath back, I just slid down the wall, leaned over on my side, and must have cried myself to sleep. I was awakened by a bright light in my face and a man looking at me, but I couldn't see his face because the light was so strong, and I covered my eyes and sat up. He just stood there and shined his flashlight on me. I started shaking, he turned the light off, and was standing in front of me, the police car lights on, with another person leaning against the car smoking a cigarette. Once I could see more clearly I looked up and could only see a shadow hovering over me...I started screaming, screaming as loud as I ever have, until my throat hurt, and I started crying again and couldn't scream any more. I was sure it was my stepfather. He's found me and he's going to punish me. He's going to slap me in the head and put me over the toilet so I don't pee on myself, but it was too late, because I could feel the warmth of the pee in my lap. I need to get out of here...out of here...please help me get out of here.

I heard someone say, here's your boy. Son, what's going on? You need to tell us so we can help you. All I could say is that I was really thirsty, so the man leaning against the police car brought me a little bottle of soda, opened it for me, and let me drink. Even thought I was so thirsty, the first drink made me spit it out . The bubbles hurt my throat. Here, take a smaller sip, and the policeman held the bottle for me so I couldn't only take a sip, and that was okay, so I took another sip, and another. I was feeling better...I wasn't thirsty as much.

I took deep breaths. Neither of these men were my dad. I was so happy it made me cry again.

Get the blanket out of the trunk so we can get him warm, at least. I felt big hands circling behind my back, and under my wet seat, and the blanket pulled snugly, and the blanket smelled like cats because it smelled just like my neighbors cats, and she has, like, six and I have to hold my nose closed when I go to her house, and I warn my friends at Halloween to hold their breath until they're back on the sidewalk. I can't fall asleep now, I'll smell like...cats...too.

I don't remember being carried to the police car and laid on the back seat. I awoke to feel a car moving and a police radio, and the policeman saying, we'll be bringing him back, but he seems to be okay except for many surface scratches and his bandage on his head needs to be changed. We just found him, so it's going to be at least 20 minutes before we get back to the hospital. Yes, I'll tell him. I hope it helps.

He turned around in his seat to look at me and said he and his partner, Ted, wanted to talk to me first, and we'll get a hot chocolate, and sit in the parking lot so you can tell me what happened and why you ran away. I think there's more to this, Ted, and we should give the kid a chance to tell us what's going on before we take him back. They]ll want to focus on his injuries, and I we've stopped the bleeding with cloth tape. I think you're right, said the guy Ted, and this kid is shivering more and more the longer we're in the car. We need to hurry or there will be a lot of explaining to do.

I woke up again when the officers lifted me up to sit in the back seat instead of lying down.

I think this cocoa is cool enough now for you to have some. Can you hold it and sip or can one of us help? No, I'm okay, and I was shaking so badly that warm cocoa spilled over the edge, so Ted hold it in place for me to drink it when I wanted. Why don't they take me back to the hospital where I can be punished, and I hope no one hits me in the head, or my scratched arm, and they don't think all the wet on my legs is from peeing on myself.

I got wet sliding on some grass. That was the first thing I could think to say.

We can see a lot has happened to you since you left the hospital. Where do you hurt the most? And I told them it was my head and my arm, and my legs were so tired, and my stomach hurt 'cause I was hungry, I think.

You made it quite a way from the hospital. You must be really strong to have gone this far.

The sound of his voice was so new to me, and he was talking to me, really asking me questions, and I was answering his questions! No man had talked to me like this. Maybe he'll be a new friend, and how good it would be to have a policeman as a friend who can protect me from my father.

What's this about your father? I didn't realize I'd been talking out loud, and I put my lips together so I wouldn't say any more, I'll get in real trouble, if I talk to you, my dad will be so mad and I know he will kill me next time he sees me because I ran away from the hospital and got in this mess, and I told the police about my father, and what he had done to me ever since I met him. My cats scratched his daughter's face when she slept in the bunk above me, and it was the first time I saw him mad, and he pulled the cats away from my sister and threw them on the floor and they cried, and I never saw those cats again, and I really liked Siames cats, I like their fur, it's so sleek, and when I can I'll get another Siamese cat just for myself....

I like cats, too, said the officer. That's too bad what happened to them, but your dad was just afraid the cats would hurt his little girl even more. I don't know why they disappeared, but it is sad to lose a pet.

I sniffled and a hand came down and told me to blow my nose, something my mother would do when I stayed home from school pretending I was sick with a cold so I wouldn't be teased another day by the boys.

Tell us more about your father.

I knew they had to get me back to the hospital in 20 minutes, but I couldn't stop talking, about how he got me out of scouts that I really liked, and I'd do something and he'd thump me on the head with his finger, and that really hurts. He was chasing me just before I got this, and I pointed to the bandages on my head, and then everything was dark and I guess I fell asleep because I had lots of dreams.

I felt the car start up, and Ted said I could finish the cocoa later, and it seemed like we drove for a very long time, until there were bright lights outside and I heard an ambulance coming in, and people were shouting, it seemed like, and I didn't want to talk any more. When I looked out the window, I saw it was a different hospital. This isn't my hospital, I said to them, and the policeman said it was now for a little while, and I was lifted out of the back seat and laid back on a soft mattress. Lights passed overhead, and once in a while I face would peer over the edge of the bed. I was finally warm again. I said I was thirsty so I got a glass of water with a straw, and I'll just lie here and...you...can...ask me more...questions.

All I remember after that is all these hands doing things with my bandages and cutting off my pants and other clothes and a warm sponge that kind of tickled, and how I had to pee really really bad and was told I could because I had a catheter, whatever that was, and so I peed without going to the toilet and now I've soiled my bed and I started crying. I would be punished so much for all of this. When my stepfather finds out everything I've said, he will be so angry, I started crying again just thinking about the strap marks on my back when he's done.

I think I slept a very long time because when I woke up the sun was shining through the window. I could barely turn my head because of the new bandages, but looked around and said I was thirsty. A woman nearby held a straw up to my mouth. I didn't know water could taste so good. She filled the glass up twice, until I said I was going to pop with all that water in me. She laughed, not very loud, but loud enough for me to hear her, and it made me smile.

That's better, she said, smiling down at me. I wanted to sit up so she helped me by putting the bed up so I could look around. There were three other kids in the room, and one of them was playing Fish with an adult, and another was watching tv, and another kid was asleep. I could see they had bandages, too.

I wasn't back at my hospital, but I didn't care because I was so comfortable, and maybe my stepfather wouldn't find me here and I could be safe forever. I leaned back against the pillow, closed my eyes, and was asleep again.

Seems like about an hour later and the nurse was asking me if I could stand up and walk a little, that she would walk with me to make sure I didn't fall. Where am I? You're at a special children's hospital where we can  help you. Only kids come here. Maybe I'll make a new friend, but the doctors and nurses probably told everyone that I peed my pants and I ran away from the other hospital, so I'll have a hard time making a new friend. Maybe the other boy would want to play fish with me?

We'll ask him when he wakes up. He is really tired, just like you. When we got done with our walk down the hall, we came in the room and two policemen were standing in my room. Before I could cry out, they said they were the ones who found me a couple of nights ago and when they heard I was awake, they made sure to come by and say hello. Hello, I said. I didn't know what else I should say. Yes, I am feeling better because I can sleep as much as I want and the food's better than they say on tv comedies, because I got a hamburger last night, and I get pizza tonight. I asked for these and the nurse said, yes, you can have those to eat. And chocolate pudding? Of course. Chocolate milk? I'm sure we can help you there.

The policemen were smiling at me, and then at one another, and then to the nurse, and then a doctor came in and the policemen went out in the hall with the doctor. I couldn't hear what they said, but are they going to punish me?

No, dear, they won't punish you for anything. You've been very brave, and strong, and we are all so happy you are here and will be okay. I don't think you can stay as long as you want, like a hotel, she laughed, but that I would be here for a couple of days at least. I think she said next “until they figure out what to do with you.” But I can't be sure. The policemen waved from the door and said they were happy I was feeling better, and good luck.

Next thing I knew I was awakened and could smell pizza. I love pizza. I looked down and there were two big slices for me to eat. It was hard to pick one up because my arm really hurt, so the nurse said she would cut it up and I could eat it with a fork. No, that's like a baby, so I lifted the pizza up to my mouth and the best thing I could do was lick it before it fell out of my hand and back on the plate. “Yum, that was good,” and the nurse started laughing and had to go into the hall, and finally came back, and by that time I was chewing on the pizza. There was pudding...and chocolate milk...and a little card that I opened and it said “Happy Belated Birthday.” I slept through my birthday? I can't believe it. So I don't get any presents because who would give presents to somebody who was asleep! No, the nurse said, we have presents for you, and she showed me three boxes that were wrapped in birthday paper, but there wasn't a tag so I didn't know who they were from, and I know my stepfather won't give me presents after what I've done, ever again, and that would be my punishment. He won't let my mother give me presents, either...and how come mom and dad hadn't come to see me, and I started crying. You have to finish your pizza before you start crying, said the nurse, and it made me laugh so hard. I wanted to stay there the rest of my life.

The next day, two women – I guess they weren't nurses because they weren't wearing white – came into my room smiling and asking how I was doing. I asked them why my parents didn't come to visit, and one of the ladies said, that's one of the things we want to talk with you about. Please tell us what happened? I was so tired of telling this story, I said, and the woman said they were the most important to hear the story, so I took a deep breath and talked about my dreams and the warm grass, and the lion chasing me, and getting pulled back into the darkness, and no more scouting, no more playing with boys, the scout master is a homosexual, and I liked men, too.

Tell us more about what happened before you had your accident at the house.

I was really mad at my sister, I don't know why, and I was chasing her with an open pocket knife and how my stepfather reacted, and how I thought he was going to kill me...and I was talking so long I asked them for some chocolate milk because it will make me remember everything better. They laughed and one of them went out in the hall and came back with chocolate milk. I love this place. I want to stay here forever.

You won't be able to stay here too much longer. Then I have to go home? I am so afraid. No, you won't be going to your home, but you are going to a house that you know, but not nearby. They told me about how my Aunt Jane wanted me to come live with her in Chicago, which is a plane ride away. Will I see my mom and dad? Not right away, but they will come to visit you if you want. I want to see my mom, but not my stepfather. We understand how you feel, which is why we've arranged for you to move away from here.

I thought about Aunt Jane and my cool cousin Tim who was in college and I got to stay in his room, and Rusty who gave me a ride on his motorcycle, but also my twin cousings Mindy and Pris who liked to tease me, but that was okay, because it was all in fun, and I would find ways to tease them. I thought about riding my bike on the cobblestone street in Hinsdale last summer, and how Aunt Wallace insisted that she had given us ice tea to drink. It wasn't ice tea, auntie, it was ice coffee, the three of us said, and she kept telling us to drink our tea. Later we heard her say, my goodness, the children were right, it is ice coffee.

A new school, new friends, no stepfather, maybe I could go back into scouts, and work on my puppet collection and try to become a ventriloquist, throwing my voice so that it sounds like the puppet talking. But kids would laugh and tell me they could see my lips moving, so wanted to practice in front of a mirror for a while before I do it for a show or anything.

Yes, it will all be new, but you already know your cousins and they will help you with everything. Yes, even your homework. Could I have some more chocolate milk? I can remember so much more when I have chocolate milk, which they promised me after I was done telling them stories and about living at home.

I never saw my stepfather again. A few years later my Aunt Jane said he had died of a heart attack, which made me sad for my mother because I thought she really liked that man. One Saturday I was told that my mom and sister Phoebe were coming to visit. I was so excited to tell them about my new life and how the girls at my school liked to play // like in San Diego, and being in scouts and spraying the cigar box with gold paint after gluing on all those shells. I think I probably told them all this in my letters, and I had a stack of letters from my mom telling me about how life was in San Mateo. She didn't tell me that my stepfather and she got divorced, or that he moved with his daughter Mary to New Mexico so she could be closer to her mom, but Dad had to go back to San Francisco where he was in the Navy. He had a heart attack on the ship, I was told, and he'd requested burial at sea.

I was partly sad but mostly relieved that the guy would never be in my life again. Now with him gone would you want to move back to live with us? I didn't know what to say. But I thought life would be okay with just my little sister and me. I would like that, I said, and Mom started crying and Phoebe kept reading her book lying on the floor, and I began to think about life in San Diego. It had been two years and I'm much more grown up now. The day after they left, my Aunt Jane said she had some cookies I'd like and could I come sit with her in the living room.

Your mother said you wanted to go back to San Diego. I'd like to talk with you about that. It's true that your stepfather is no longer in the picture so you won't have that torment. But how would your life be with your mother and sister? Your mother had to go into the hospital, too, about a year ago, and Phoebe stayed with friends  for three weeks.. But my stepdad was dead so he couldn't have hurt her. No, it wasn't like that and it's really not my place to interfere, but in the long run you'd do better to graduate from Hinsdale High School. I know your mom pretty well because she's my sister but I think you'd be happier here. You're back in scouts, you're going camping, playing tennis with your cousins, and you've made several friends at school. You would be leaving a lot behind.

I didn't want to tell her that I really want friends, but no one wanted me, that all the stories about adventures with my friends at school were all lies....scouts didn't feel the same here and I didn't have my badges because I threw away my scout shirt in San Diego, so I had to makeup for those lost badges by working harder than I wanted, and now I want to quit. I hate camping because it reminds me of my stepfather, that my cousins had me sit down and watch most of the time because I couldn't hit the ball, and all that. I thought she would think she had failed me in some way and I didn't want her to take it personally. It's not her fault I'm the way I am.

Now I don't know what to do, I said, and Aunt Jane asked me to think about it for a couple of days. I could go back as a whole new person. I learned some military arts moves like Karate that I could use to defend myself (little did I know that they were joking with me and made up most of the things they said would help me against bullies.) I could go back and be with the scout pack, and be back at my school for sixth grade. I'd have all my stuff, too, all the comics and Mad magazines and books, but I wondered if the book mobile would still be there because that was a fun place to go every week for more books.

What if I go back just for the summer and see how it is? She responded by saying, let's try three weeks instead of the whole summer because we'd love to have you travel with us to Canada and then drive down the eastern seaboard, see New York, the Statue of Liberty that you like very much. We'll be leaving on July 20 after the girls are finished with summer school. They told me how much they would like me to come on the trip. Yeah, to tease me, probably, but I didn't say that out loud, all I said was “Okay.” I was getting really confused about what to do.

What I really wanted was to go back to the hospital where I was treated so nicely, but the nurse explained that what I had wasn't real life and the reason I was being treated so nicely is because it's what we do at the hospital to make patients feel better. People don't stay and they don't come back so they can be treated nicely again...they were only here for surgery or healing. Maybe I can be a nurse someday and help people like you help people, but I was also thinking of being a teacher, who can help a lot of people learn how to be nice to each other.

I asked Mindy later about my mom being sick and did she know anything about it. Pris heard me and left her desk to come over next to Mindy. She likes to drink liquor, said Pris. I know, she likes wine and beer and she drinks after dinner. But she can't stop because she's an alcoholic. It's like she's addicted to drinking liquor. Phoebe told me that once her mom puts food in the oven she says she's tired and could Phoebe take it out when the bell rings, and sometimes when she goes to take something from the oven, she finds a casserole dish and uncooked spaghetti covered with canned tomatoes. Most of the time Phoebe gets money from your mom's purse to go to Jack in the Box. She said she doesn't like even the smell of french fries any more.

I didn't know anything about this. Why was she in the hospital for three weeks, then?

Mindy said it was because your mom had a mental breakdown. After what happened to you, and your moving here, and how Ed treated her and her mom before mom got divorced, and then going through all that, she had to go to the hospital so they could take care of her.

I hope she got the kind of care I got at the hospital.

They mainly had her there to keep her from drinking and learning to live without alcohol. But I heard at school that they can never stop drinking no matter what you did to help them.

Why would she drink that much? Is she always thirsty?

No, that's what's weird. She's not thirsty. It's not the drink, it's the alcohol that makes people drunk that they're addicted to. Phoebe described how her mother fell asleep after she'd been drinking most of the day. It's not sleeping, it's blacking out because of all the booze, and Phoebe's lucky her mother only drives her to school in the morning because she wouldn't want to ride with her in the afternoons.

It seems like those are the times when she's had accidents. Like, running into someone's car. Once she knocked a mail box off its stand along the street. She would weave through traffic, but I thought it was the way she learned to drive. She didn't seem like this before this all happened. She seemed like she was normal and not drunk. I can't believe she'd drink so much that she could hurt someone driving the car. But I guess it's been done plenty of times, with all the stories in the paper about car accidents.

So you or Phoebe could be in the car when she had an accident like this, and you would be injured or even killed.

 He wasn't sure what to do after his talk with Aunt Jane. First he needed to figure out exactly what she told him. That might make the decision clearer.

Next day at school, he waited until the end of the day to go to his scout's den meeting. They were given a project that required them to team up with another scout, planning a container garden for a local rest home. While he and Steve, his best friend,  talked about the project and while they were making a list of what they would need, Jimmy asked Steve if he knew what an alcoholic was. Before he could answer, Paul cut in and said "it's somebody who's a drunk, they can't get through the day without a glass of beer or wine. They throw up on themselves and fall in the gutter. It's disgusting." My question was how did he know so much about it. "Cause my Uncle Pete can't get through a day without liquor. He's a mess."

That doesn't sound like my mum would do anything like that.

Oh, they're sneaky, too. They'll tell you they're not drinking and it's just lies because you can smell it on 'em. And they can get in really bad accidents. My uncle was driving home and hit a parked car. Totaled his car. Pow! They can also get really mean. My mom won't let him in the house if he's been drinking, and he's family. That makes him even meaner. Oh, and they can hit you and not remember it, so best stay as far away from any body who's a drunk, believe me. 

Steve looked at me an shrugged his shoulders. I didn't know what to say to Paul, except "Oh."  But it made me think about my stepdad. Mom and he drank every night, but she sometimes had a glass of wine after breakfast, which I thought was strange. Dad wasn't home during the day and when he was I didn't go anywhere near him if I could help it. 

Maybe I shouldn't have told my mother I would like to move back to San Mateo, as much as I miss her and Phoebe. But I don't like the sound of what Paul told me. But is that how my mother would be if I moved back? Doesn't sound good. 

I mentioned earlier how my cousins Pris and Mindy liked to tease me. The worst was when we were all going to the market and I sat between them for only ten minutes. They started pinching me, first on my right side, and then on my left, taking turns and snickering. Ow, stop it. That hurts! I don't know what you girls are doing to Jim, but you need to stop it right now. They didn't stop. On the way back I asked Aunt June if I could ride in back with the groceries and she said if I could fit back there without squishing anything that's fine. I wedged myself into a corner and put one of the bags on my lap so I wouldn't get pinched. Mindy still put her hand back to grab my arm and I pulled it away from her. I don't know what to do. 

That night I had a dream that they were pinching me and I hit them both in the face, one with my fist and the other with my elbow. They both started screaming and I could feel in my dream that I was happy that they hurt so bad. But their faces started bruising and Pris said my elbow went into her eye and really hurt her. I woke up and realized I need to defend myself against these two, but maybe not how I did it in my dream. I'll hit them somewhere it won't show so much.

I know that if I move I will leave my friend Steve behind. We've been really good friends since the day I started back in scouts. He said he was a kind of loner, too, and could see I was, so why don't we be buddies? I'd never had a best friend before. I liked that. When I wasn't with Steve I felt so lonely, but when we got together, just to play darts, or ride our bikes, I was the happiest I'd ever been, it seemed like. We would have sleepovers at each others' houses. When we went camping we'd stay in the same tent. I loved Steve, I wanted to be with him all the time, and I loved having him sleep next to me. He really snores loud, like my stepdad did, and I nudge Steve and he wakes up “What?” Stop snoring, I say, and he would say “Oh” and keep on snoring.

When we were getting ready for bed I wanted to see Steve without any clothes on. It was such a strong urge, and I felt so embarassed by it. I snuck a peak when I could, but he was always wearing underwear, even under his pajamas, so I didn't ever see his privates. I did once when we were at urinals at school. He was as interested in what I looked like as I was for him and it made me smile. What are you smiling about? Uh, nothing. Thinking about a joke I read today. What's the joke? I stammered and I could feel my face get really hot and I told him I couldn't remember it all to tell him. We washed our hands and went back on the playground.

I don't think Steve likes me as much as I like him. I'm too shy to tell him what I really think, and I figure it would not be good news, so we kept our friendship as we had been doing. One sleepover I couldn't help myself. When he was asleep on his side, I slowly pulled his pjs and then his underwear down so I could see the crack in his butt. I wanted to touch it, but just then Steve rolled over on his side and was facing me, still asleep. I lay there just staring at him as best I could in the dark, and carefully touch his red hair. I wonder if he'd give me some next time he's at the barber. He laughed and said that was really creepy and what would I do with his hair, glue it to my face like a beard and he started laughing and I laughed along with him. He never asked me for any of my hair, so I never said anything about that again.

One sleepover during the summer it was too hot to wear pjs so we slept in our underwear. When he slept on his back I could see the hump that his weiner made in the underwear. I really wanted to touch him there, or pull down his undies a little bit so I could see what he looked like. He had small red hairs on his stomach that got darker closer to his thing. I reached over and lightly touched his privates, with his underwear on, and I felt so awful, but excited, too, so I rolled over with my back to him so I couldn't see him any more. Later that night – or maybe early in the morning because I couldn't sleep – he put his arm over me and pulled me close to him. My heart was racing and I started sweating and I didn't know what to do. He was still snoring, so he put his arm over me in his sleep. I reached up and touched his arm, then his hands, and fingers. There wasn't a place on his body that there weren't freckles. I looped my fingers between his and I could feel my weiner moving, getting hard like it does sometimes. I squeezed his hand just a little bit and he pulled away and rolled over the other way. I stayed hard for a long time and didn't know what to do about it, so I kept lying there, my heart beating fast, and short breaths. I might have gone to sleep for a little while. The next thing I knew it was morning and Aunt Jane was calling us for breakfast. I woke up first and looked at Steve's weiner, and it was long like mine sometimes is. I shook him to wake him up and let my hand linger at his crotch, just lightly touching it.

For days afterward I imagined his body and what he looked like. I saw myself kissing him on the forehead and then on the cheek, and we both had our underwear off and we were poking each other with our things. In my fantasy he was interested in my body, too, and we handled one another's privates, even the balls. My heart was beating so much that it made it almost impossible to sleep the rest of the night. I think I've come as close as I can to seeing his body and it is a little creepy, thinking about him so much.

At one of the camping trips, there were about six of us sharing a tent and I did get to see different boys' things, just for a second. Paul was in our tent and he was goofing around with guys, all in our undies, and we were wrestling, and he put his arm around my neck and it started hurting really bad and I could barely breath. I pushed him away, and sat up, catching my breath. I could tell his weiner was getting long in his undies. Hey guys, look at this, and he took it out of his pants and was shaking it in front of us. He put it back in and then Jesse took off his underwear and showed us his privates. Paul said, that's nothing, look at this, and he took his out again, spit on his hand, and started rubbing himself. He spurt something out of his dong and then fell on top of his sleeping bag, was laughing, and asked us what we thought about that. His stuff went on to Jack's sleeping bag, and Jack told Paul to clean it off and Paul just laughed, and Jack got really mad and hit him really hard in the shoulder. Paul hit him back even harder and I was getting scared that someone was going to hit me, so I pulled myself into the corner, got in my sleeping bag, and scrunched as close to the edge of the tent as I could. Steve told the guys to stop fooling around and go to sleep, but Paul had to have one last slap in and left a red handprint on Jesse's stomach.

When we did get up in the morning, the stuff on Jesse's sleeping bag had dried, and he brushed it off as much as he could. None of us ever said anything to each other about what Paul had done, but I didn't know that we could do that to ourselves. Now I was going to be really happy that I don't have to lie awake all night any more when that happens. Up until then I'd had wet dreams, almost like I had peed in bed, but it wasn't pee, and my Aunt June gathered up the sheets and took them to be washed, and when I came home after school my sheets were all clean. It wasn't until I was much older that I realized I never dreamt about girls and their bodies. I was always standing at a urinal and then I would have a wet dream. That I didn't dream about girls, and only wanted to be with Steve, scared me. I didn't know why, but it made me afraid because it didn't seem like something everyone else did, and only me. I was afraid of being punished for feeling like I did, and I thought about my stepdad and how mad he would be at me for thinking these things, and wanting these things. I shuddered to think about how he would have treated Paul that night on the camp out. I remember watching tv one night and I didn't even realize I was playing with myself through my pjs, lying on my side watching tv.  I heard his loud voice and saw his teeth clenching, and his hand getting ready to hit me when he shouted I never want to see you doing that again, you hear me? Go in your bedroom. NOW.

I got in bed and started crying, heard my door open and my mom said good night, but I pretended I was asleep. I thought he was going to whip me with his belt, and I must have laid there for at least an hour waiting for him to come in my room, I'm shaking the whole time, and didn't go to sleep until long after I could hear him snoring. What I did was nothing compared to what Paul did, and if my dad had seen that....I didn't touch myself there again for a long time even when I took a bath, and didn't look at myself in the mirror and pulled my undies on even before I was completely dry, and only looked at it to make sure it was aimed right when I peed.

It didn't make any difference that my stepdad was dead. I still had the memories, which never left me alone.

After that camping trip I didn't invite Steve to my house for sleepovers and neither did he ask me over. The closest I ever got to him again was when we were working on a project and we hardly spoke to one another. Something happened that night with Paul that changed even Steve and my friendship. But then Steve invited me over for the night and we talked almost all night about anything and everything. I told him I thought he was mad at me for some reason, and he said the same about me, so we both laughed because it was all so stupid the way we were acting. That was the last time we spent the night together, but I remember him so clearly, and he was part of my fantasies, for a long long time. Whenever I see a man with red hair, my heart starts beating faster and I can't stop looking at him, until he notices and I look away. Even if the guy isn't very handsome, I'm still a ginger lover.

I was in desperate to escape. In the middle of the night I pulled out all the wires and tubes (which hurt a lot) and I tried not to cry. I lowered myself onto the floor, and the floor was so cold I wanted to get back in bed. I have to get out of here, so I went through one of the doors and found myself on the lawn again, my feet nice and warm in the hot grass, the frogs hopping around me (they were happy to see me). I sat down, lay back, and spread my arms and legs out so I could soak up as much sun as possible. I felt so cozy. And I was alone.

Jimmy’s funeral was four days later. He must have had a blood clot in his brain and he died of a stroke, the doctor told my parents. Jimmy’s mother was hysterical. His stepfather was relieved that he didn’t have to have a sissy in his house. It wasn’t my fault he ran into the fireplace mantle. He was running that way. I didn’t mean to push him so hard, I was just trying to grab him from behind and I slipped. That’s the story we didn’t tell the doctors, that we heard his head go crack when he hit the mantle and suddenly there was blood all over the floor, but the guys in the ambulance took him away, and they could worry about him now. His mother better not tell anyone what had happened or I will beat her until s

I had many hobbies, stamps, model airplane building, paint by number, all that I could do on my own. I wasn't an outdoor person at all, as far as team sports went, and I was always the last to be picked, or assigned by the coach, for baseball. I lifted weights and it made my elbows crunch so the doctor gave me --- shots and an out for having any p.e. all the rest of the time I was in school. It wasn't until years later I found out that my strabisma (crossed eyes) made me see two of everything, so when I would reach for a ball, I would see two, and always miss.

 One day Paul and he was assigned to a science experiment and he actually smiled, "I'm glad you're here" which made me feel better. I'd thought about that sleepover many times since that night and I was hoping to be able to talk with Paul about it, somehow. I discovered his pleasure at my joining him was so he could kick back and leave all the work to me, but we both got credit for it. That's just the way he was – acts nice to make a good impression and then manipulates the situation, in this instance, me. One day after school I saw him sitting by himself and I said, Paul, can I ask you something? Maybe, depends. Well, uh, remember the night at scout camp when you, um, you know, that spray. What the hell are you talking about? We were in the same tent together and you stood up and started rubbing youself. What? Who told you that? I was there, I saw it. He turned to me, grabbing my collar in front of my adams apple and twisted it so it was starting to choke me. I saw his eyes, like my dad's eyes, and the burning anger. Don't you ever, EVER say I did anything like that. He was inches away from my face. Do you hear me? Do you hear me? He let go, stood up and walked away. I sat down to catch my breath and wondered why he was acting like that when he was so happy that night?

I told Steve what happened, and he looked down at the ground. He's doing that to every guy who was in the tent that night, to make us think we made it up or were having a dream. I saw what you saw. What was the question you were going to ask him. Why his weiner was so much bigger and had all that hair. He would have wolloped you before he would have answered that. He's a year older than any of us because he was kept back in first grade when everyone else went to the next grade. He had done so poorly on the tests all year and gave the teacher a hard time. He was really mad about that. He's older and that's what happens to you when you get older.

I remember talking about it in sex ed once but I didn't connect it to what Paul looked like that night. All I could say to Steve, was okay, I guess. I've gotta go home now, Steve said, and I watched him ride away on his bike, his red hair blowing back and I was angry that we weren't good friends any more. Charlene started talking to him in class one day, and they held hands at the mall and that's all he wants to talk about is Charlene this, Charlene that. Not that she's not a nice girl. But holding hands with her I thought was creepy. I would like to hold hands with Steve, though.

My mom called about a week after she left for California to ask if I was excited about coming home? I'm not sure I want to, I told her, very quietly. I was afraid she'd scream at me. You don't want to? But you told me you would like to come back. I'm kind of tired, mom. Can I call you back?

How could I tell her that all the stories about her drinking made me upset, that I didn't want to come home to her falling asleep because she drank so much, and then having to go with Phoebe for dinner at Jack in the Box, how I was afraid of getting hurt in a car accident if she was driving and had too much to drink, how you know how much drinking made life really hard with dad, and Aunt June and Uncle Rob don't drink, except for a glass of wine at dinner. I also was making friends here and I liked my scout troop and going to different homes to do scout activities.