He looked at me incredulously for a moment, then moved to join me. I wanted to tell him to stay back, but I heard my mom scream and knew I didn’t have time to waste.
I burst through the door and scanned the living room, shocked at the level of destruction. My mother’s treasured large antique mirror lay on the floor, the glass cracked, the frame broken and twisted. Our old brown leather recliner was almost upside down, and I briefly wondered if my mom had been in it when my dad had shoved it over. Everything on the mantel had been swept to the floor. Shattered glass, torn pictures, and broken frames littered the carpet. Family photos had been ripped from the walls and destroyed. Candles lay broken in two, and bits of fried eggs rested everywhere.
When he was really drunk, my dad always wanted breakfast for dinner, so the eggs didn’t surprise me. The amount of damage, however, did—this was more than his usual rage.
I heard Pamela crying down the hall, and I maneuvered through the ruined living room as quickly as possible, making my way toward the far end of our house, Jeff close behind me.
When I turned the corner into my parent’s bedroom, my heart dropped to my stomach when I saw my mom on the floor in a fetal position, desperately trying to cover her head with her arms, while my dad repeatedly kicked her. Blood had pooled under her, seeping through her floral nightgown.
“Dad! Stop! You’re going to kill her!” I screamed, trying to turn his attention onto me and away from her. Instinctively, I balled my hands into fists, then froze for a second, scared of the monster inside of him, yet terrified he would murder her.
Dad stumbled wildly toward me, searching me out with his bleary eyes. “Don’ ya try tell me wha’t’do,” he slurred, then looked lost, like he had forgotten what he was doing.
“Mom?” I called, making my way past my dad. My body shook and I felt icy fingers grip my heart as I tried to see if she was conscious.
“What the hell?” Jeff yelled.
“Call Nine-One-One!” I demanded without taking my gaze off my mom. “NOW!”
I could see Jeff from the corner of my eye as he pulled out his cell and warily watched my dad. Knowing Jeff would get the police here, I squatted next to my mom, but kept an eye on my dad also. As the alcohol took complete control of his brain, his reflexes slowed, but he tried to lift his leg for another kick. Unbelievable!
White hot rage filled me. Although I’d never in my life been in a physical fight, I rose up and gripped his shoulders with both hands, shoving him back as hard as I could. “Don’t you dare touch her,” I screamed.
His ugly, watery eyes widened in shock. I had never touched him in anger before. Spittle flew out of his mouth as he tried to say something, but by this time, the alcohol had finally won. He landed hard on his butt. Instead of cursing me, he sat like that for a moment, sort of swaying to some silent music in his head, before pitching forward like a rag doll folding in on itself. He grunted as he gave in to the blackout.
Jeff had rushed to my mom’s side, pressing a peach bath towel to her head, whispering to her. The thought crossed my mind that my mom wouldn’t want us to use the good towels, but then I realized how ridiculous that sounded. Jeff tried to help her sit up, but she cried out in pain when she attempted to put pressure on her arm, likely broken. Droplets of blood oozed down Jeff’s arms and shame washed over me.
I couldn’t meet Jeff’s eyes. “Can you go check on Pamela? I need to stay here with my mom.” I knew my flat voice sounded cold.
“Sure. Yeah…sure.” He headed out the bedroom door. I heard him pause and felt his gaze on me. What could I say, really? How could I explain any of this to him?
I knelt and looked to see where my mom was injured. Blood had seeped into the tan carpet, pooled next to her shoulder, and matted her hair. It came from several different places on her body, but I kept the towel pressed against her head, where there seemed to be an extraordinary amount. I slid my right arm under her neck, shuddering at the slickness of her skin. I tried to pull her up to a semi-sitting position, but she cried out in pain again, so I pillowed her head on my leg. Anything to keep her from lying in her own blood.
My dad snorted in his drunken stupor and his body jerked, but he stayed where he was. Murderous thoughts coasted through my mind. It dawned on me how easy it would be to kill him right then. Hell, a simple jab to his neck. Or a pillow over his mouth and nose. It could be done so simply.
The thought shook me to my core. I hated my dad, no doubt about it. But that kind of all-encompassing hatred? That wasn’t me. Giving in to it would only make me more like him, something I refused to do.
Instead, I turned my attention back to my mom. Both eyes had already swollen shut and turned ugly shades of black and blue, and her nose appeared broken. She moaned.
“I’m here, Mom. It’s going to be okay.”
I couldn’t believe it when she moved her lips as if she wanted to speak. Tears I’d been holding at bay poured from my eyes, dripping from my cheeks to hers before I could wipe them away. She tried to speak, but I shushed her.
“Mom, just hold on. Help is on the way.”
Even as I spoke, I heard sirens growing louder. Pamela ran into the room and crumpled next to me on the floor.
“Mom! Mom!” she cried. “Are you dead?”
“N-no…” she wheezed.
I held out my left arm and Pamela curled into it, her tears dropping onto my sleeve. I held her close and felt her heart beating hard against me. I caught Jeff watching me, his eyes clearly misty. I held his gaze for a moment, my own heartbeat thundering in my ears, until he headed down the hall. The loud sirens announced that the cavalry had arrived. I felt relief knowing Jeff would meet them. I couldn’t leave my mom or sister.
“Mom, I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “I should have been here. I should have protected you and Pamela. I’m so sorry.”
She tried to say something again, but the effort proved too much for her. I held her hand as we waited for what seemed like an eternity for help.
Jeff returned soon, ushering in several large men in uniforms. I felt sort of disconnected for a few seconds, as if I were looking down at myself holding my mother. My mind was disengaging from the present and I was letting it. I couldn’t identify the emergency personnel until one man knelt at my side. The lettering on his shirt designated him as “Fire Department.” He felt my mom’s neck for a pulse. But his voice cut through my fog, bringing me back to the current situation.
“Aaron?” he asked, his voice gentle but firm. “I need you to look at me and answer some questions. Can you do that?”
I swallowed and nodded, but gripped my mom tighter.
“Can you tell me what happened, son?” He gestured to someone to come around and help.
I looked at this stranger, then down at my mom, before I tilted my head toward the heap of bones blacked out by the bed. “My dad did this,” I said, my voice eerily calm.
Pamela hugged me tight. “He tried to kill her!” For once she wasn’t exaggerating. Our dad really had tried to kill our mom. It felt surreal.
Suddenly, strong arms pulled me away from my mom, allowing paramedics to move closer. I wanted to fight, to stay with her, but I knew I couldn’t. The air in the room changed as they examined her. Their movements sped up as they began feverishly working.
“Ma’am? Can you hear me?” The male paramedic tried to get her attention.
“She spoke a minute ago,” I said. “What happened?” My heart raced as I watched several people trying to help. Something wasn’t right.
One of the paramedics turned to me. “What’s her name?”
“Ruth.” Why did he care? Fuck, we weren’t at some fucking tea party. This didn’t seem like the time for polite introductions. “Can you please just help her?”
“Thank you, Aaron. I’m going to have someone talk with you, okay?” I wondered if he had to talk this gently to traumatized people a lot. Was I traumatized? And how did he know my name? “Your mom is in good hands.”
; I nodded, but wasn’t sure what to believe. One man took out something that looked like paddles I’d seen on television shows, and my heart lurched. What the hell was going on?
“Mom? Mom!” I cried, clutching Pamela.
A large, bulky man in a police uniform pulled me up from the floor, forcing Pamela to follow. I tried to push back so I could stay, but it proved useless, the man being as strong as a bull. My sister clung to me, tears pouring down her cheeks.
He ushered us into the kitchen, where several other police officers waited. The first officer motioned for us to have a seat at the table, which we did.
Pamela scooted her chair closer to me and grabbed my hand. I squeezed hers to let her know I was there for her. We would get through this together. I had failed my mom, but I was not going to fail my sister, too.
My eyes scanned our tiny kitchen for Jeff, but I couldn’t find him. Dread swelled inside my chest and I jumped from my chair.
“Jeff?” I called, my voice filled with panic. My heart raced and a bubble of fear pushed at my chest.
“Hey,” he said, resting his hand on my shoulder. “I’m right behind you.”
I swiveled to see him and he squeezed. A paramedic stood next to him, checking his cuts from the glass. He had quite a few, but all pretty small.
“Are you okay?” I whispered, ashamed he’d gotten hurt because of me.
He squeezed harder and nodded, trying to reassure me. “Just minor cuts. Nothing major. I’m fine, Aaron.”
His touch had a calming effect and the panic faded as I sat down. “Don’t go anywhere,” I begged, “please.”
“No way am I leaving without you,” he whispered, his voice firm.
I saw my dad being carried out on a stretcher. I also noted the handcuffs, and a weird desire to smile hit me, which only pissed me off. Who the fuck smiles when their mom could be dying?
Once officers took him outside the house, an older man in uniform sat in a chair next to me. “I’m Officer Benjamin Dyer and I have a few questions for you, okay?”
I nodded my understanding as he asked Jeff to give us some privacy. He stepped back, but stayed in the kitchen with us, leaning against the door jamb with his arms crossed. Jeff’s jaw clenched as he stared directly at the officer, almost daring the man to tell him to leave. I was kind of impressed, actually.
Officer Dyer sighed as he glanced between the two of us, as if trying to decide if separating us was worth the effort. Apparently not, because he turned back to me and started talking. I really tried to listen and answer the multitude of questions he asked, but I had a hard time concentrating. I kept looking over my shoulder to make sure Jeff was still there. Each time I turned, his blue eyes caught mine and he nodded, somehow comforting me and letting me know it was okay to continue.
They wanted to separate Pamela and me and interview us alone, but my sister refused to leave my side. She agreed to answer questions as long as I stayed with her, which was good, because I hadn’t been at the house when the argument started.
I felt numb. The house had become a flurry of activity, yet time seemed to drag. All I could think about was my mom and what was going on in her room.
I should have killed my dad. I should have fought him years ago. I should have protected her. What kind of man was I? So what if she wanted me to stay out of it? I knew he was hitting her. While tonight was worse than it had ever been, I had always known he had it in himself to kill her. He hated her. He probably hated me, too. If he ever found out I was gay, I was positive killing me was not out of the realm of possibility.
Sounds from the living room caught my attention. I watched as paramedics carried out another stretcher, and then it hit me—here was my mom, broken and bleeding and nearly dead, but for the first time in years, free of the prison in which my dad had trapped her. Suddenly, the chains were on him in a reversal I was sure would stun him. If he ever sobered up, that is.
So many things whirled around in my mind, I had trouble focusing. Officer Dyer was talking with my sister when I felt a warm hand on my back and looked up to see Jeff standing next to me again.
He squeezed my shoulder and leaned down. “What can I do to help? Who can I call?” His voice was calming. Soothing. A feeling of security washed over me and smoothed out the rough edges of my fear. I breathed deeply and closed my eyes for a second before letting the air whoosh out of my lungs. “Aaron?” he prompted.
“Yeah, call my grandparents. My mom’s parents. The Olsens. Paula and…and Douglas. They’re in my phone.” I pulled my cell from my pocket and started to hand it to him, but the officer stopped me.
“Son, we need to be the ones to call them.”
I must have looked confused because Jeff leaned down again. “He’s right. Let him take care of it. I should have realized they would have to make the calls. When we’re done here, I’ll take you and Pamela to the hospital.” He glanced at the policeman. “Is that all right, Officer?”
He studied the two of us for a minute, as though determining if we were able to handle this, and finally huffed out his breath. “Well, normally we don’t let minors go until we have a family member that can help. I know you’re eighteen, but your sister is still a minor.” He ran his hand over his head. “If you and your boyfriend want to take your sister with you to County Hospital, I don’t suppose it would be an issue. At least you wouldn’t have to wait here for much longer.”
I stared at him, mouth open. Did he say “boyfriend”?
Jeff took it all in stride apparently, because he didn’t bother to correct him. “Great, Officer. I’ll go wait in the…” He turned to look at the living room, then glanced toward the front door. “Um, how about I just go wait outside?”
“Sounds fine, son. I’ll send them out when we’re ready.”
Jeff pulled his hand from my shoulder and an immediate sense of emptiness filled me. My head shot up and I found him standing close by, his eyes on mine.
He must have sensed my fear because he pressed his lips into a tight line and nodded at me. “I’m not leaving, Aaron. I’ll be here for as long as it takes.”
I breathed in, not caring to analyze why I needed to know he was near me.
* * * *
More than an hour later, we finally headed out to Jeff’s truck with Officer Dyer, who gave Jeff some information. I tried to pay attention, too, because everything had been so intense inside and I wasn’t even sure I knew what was going on anymore.
“We’ve talked with the grandparents and they live about an hour away in Arbor. They may even be at the hospital by the time you get there. They’ve agreed to take Pamela and Aaron home with them for now.” He glanced at me before turning his attention back to Jeff, clearly aware that he was the one handling things. “Unfortunately, Mr. Pickard is also at County Hospital, but in a different section. He’s under arrest and will be placed in jail as soon as medical professionals authorize it.”
Jeff listened, nodding occasionally.
The officer gazed at me again. He pressed his lips together as he took a deep breath, his eyes darting between Pamela and me. “Last I checked on your mother, she was in surgery. About all I know is she has some broken bones, some internal bleeding, a broken nose, and bruised kidneys.”
Tears welled up in my sister’s eyes and I pulled her close, wrapping my arm around her. It was a struggle to hold back the fresh tears dampening my own lashes.
“Look, guys, this isn’t going to be easy.” Dyer rubbed his big hands over his face. For the first time, I noticed he looked upset and I wondered if this was hard on the police, too. He pulled out three business cards and handed one to Pamela and one to me, before giving one to Jeff. I slid mine into my pocket without even looking at it. Pamela seemed unaware she was holding anything and I watched as the card fell from her fingers, drifting to the ground. Jeff picked it up for her, but instead of handing it back, he tucked it into his pocket.
“Thanks,” I mumbled as I opened the passenger door to let Pamela climb in ahead of me
. We buckled up, each of us operating on auto-pilot. I stared out the window as we left the house behind. I wasn’t sure if I ever wanted to go back.
Silence blanketed the drive to the hospital. I glanced at my sister and she seemed pretty out of it. Hell, we all were.
Jeff stopped before the emergency room doors. I found him staring at me.
“Are you leaving?” I asked anxiously.
“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “You guys go ahead. I’ll be there in a minute. I’m just going to park.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nodded and climbed out of the truck, my sister close behind. We made our way through the large glass double doors and stopped short at the scene in front of us. Pamela grabbed my hand as two police officers half-carried, half-walked a dirty, rumpled man with a shaggy beard by us.
“Demons be here!” he screamed. “Satan and his demons live here!”
Pamela scooted closer and we stared as they disappeared down a long hall. I briefly wondered if he was being taken to the same area my dad was being held.
A large waiting room with maybe eight or nine people occupying some of the blue plaid chairs lay to our left. Directly in front of us stood a check-in area with individual counters and chairs. Each was full and I wasn’t sure what to do. I scanned the room, looking for some kind of instructions and jumped when something touched my shoulder.
Spinning around, my heart started beating again when I saw Jeff.
“Sorry,” he said, his hands up, palms out. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Sorry, I…” I glanced around again. I still had no idea what to do.
Once again, it seemed Jeff knew the answer, because he led us to some chairs and told us to wait while he found out some information.
Numb, I sat and watched him walk away. How had I never realized how confidant he was? He took long, purposeful strides as he made his way to the check-in counters. He spoke with a gray-haired woman behind the partition, then gestured for us to join him. I rose from my chair, my sister’s hand still clutching mine.
Holding On Page 4
