Dark Secrets (Part 2)

Chapter 30-1

Dark Secrets

Part 2

 

It was the fourth day and the day before I would see their Bishop. We had finished my morning prayers for guidance and forgiveness. Also the day I had learned another dark secret. I was ordered to strip in front of Shane and Dad. Oh, how I hated calling him that, and for a very long time it left a bad taste in my mouth.  They would humiliate me as Shane was given the task to search me for any weapons, such as knives or drugs or anything that didn’t belong on a person’s body.

Dad would instruct him as walked around me as I stood there naked to the world. I was only glad the doors were closed preventing Jody; the only one that had seemed kind to me, and sometimes Kerry when she was in the mood which was rare during those first few months. In fact, it was hard to believe that kindness existed inside of them, but for now, all I saw and felt was cruelty that matched or sometimes made my parent’s cruelty look like it was love in comparison.

Dad handed Shane a baton as they use in prisons. He would then demonstrate how to use it during a strip search. Saying “Mule Boy, legs spread, or I’ll shove this up your a*s.” Then place the baton between my legs screaming “wider.” Then taking his hands and roughly slid them up and down my legs and feet. Spending extra time between my crotch to get a rise out of me. Or see if I would turn hard by the mere touch, then laughing at how small and girlish I looked with a firm and tight a*s. He laughed taking the baton under my chin and forcing me to lift my head. Seeing the tears streaming down my cheeks, with his thumb he would trace my tears pushing hard against my face. Calling me worthless cry baby, slapping me hard on the butt; commenting again how firm and soft it was. That prison boys would love to get hold of it.

Dad would once more proceed handing the baton over to Shane having him repeat the process. Then Dad would order me against the wall with my legs spread and repeat running his hands up and down my legs slowly and my back and chest squeezing my n*****s hard before stepping back and then said. “Mule Boy touch the ground.” Hitting me across the back with the baton while he bent me over; he would then put on gloves for a cavity search again taking his time exploring and whistle say how nice and tight I was. Stating the boys in prison would surely like pieces of this once again. Then proceed to check my hair.

It was Shane’s turn, handing him a pair of gloves, but he refused which earned him a slap across the face. Dad forced him on his knees and put Shane’s hands on my body without gloves, ordering him to do the search until he got it right, and then order me to stand in the middle of the room saying. “Mule Boy touch the sky.” Forcing my arms into the air as he roughly examine my chest and under my arms once more squeezing my n*****s stating once more how firm I was humming as he looked me up and down. Lingering his eyes on my crotch, before Shane repeated the process except he didn’t linger nor did he squeeze my n*****s. Dad didn’t say anything except say job well done and prepare me for my day's tasks.

I hadn’t finished the humility vest so I had to go without. I was given a pair of boxers and shorts that had seen better days and a small rope for a belt to keep my pants up. As I said before shoes weren’t allowed as both me and Arthur went barefoot; to keep us from running away, but so did everyone else so in some ways it didn’t mater. Again I wasn’t about to say anything on how I was already custom to not wearing any, and I knew it would not stop me. I was then fitted with iron shackles around my ankles connected to the chain to keep me from running until I had been placed to work in the hot sun.

Shane was my task master fitted with a whip I had only seen in movies. Along with braded whip that some called a cattail by its meaning of long leather strands with hard knots, sometimes tied with nails or metal burs to do more damage against the flesh.  This same whip at his side like his father as he watched him hook my right ankle to a long chain which was connected to metal ring connected to large cement block buried underground.

I was then given a bucket and inside the bucket was a small planting six-inch shovel and rake. Order to pull weeds along the rows of the garden; I was one row over to where Arthur was working. I could see clearly the scars on his legs and arms. I didn’t have to wonder where he got them as the whip came down on his back. The sound reminded me of my father’s belt as he would beat me with it. Arthur only winced without making a sound. He hands moved more quickly and deft pulling the weeds and placing them in his bucket, and taking the rake carefully around the plants.

My orders were to watch as Shane pointed to me and said. “Mule Boys dig” as the whip came down across my shoulders I screamed, giving another one on the other side. The sun was hot and we worked the garden for three hours before we were given water that tasted stale out of horse trough. I wanted to spit it out, but my mouth and throat were so parched I gagged it down. Jeff watched the horror taking place sometimes I could feel as if he was crying, then I felt teardrops falling on the back of my hands leaving clean streaks.

Several times our eyes met, but neither of us said anything. I watched Shane and his brother Shawn toss a football back and forth. If he saw me looking he would stop and yell at us to keep our sinful eyes to the ground or he would take us to the task. We worked in the garden for three more hours before they made us stop. Apparently, Arthur no longer needed the shackles as they only put them on me before they led us back into the house.

Arthur and I were led back into the house and I to my room where Shane undid my shackles shoving me inside and closing the door. I could hear the door lock and turned to find a bar of soap and pail of water and towel that had seen better days on top of the dresser. My clothes were laid out on the bed next to my Bible with a bookmark set to the place where I stopped the previous day.  As I was washing up Jody came in with a small First Aid Kit and some lotion. She wasn’t cruel like the others as she calmly closed the door, and carefully administered the lotion and cleaned my cuts on my shoulders and back. She never called me Mule Boy like the others, instead called me Eric. Not Earick like her father.

She was kind and turned her head allowing me to dress semi-private, as I quickly put on the clothes that had been set out for me she said. “Things would get easier when I learned to stop fighting and they know that you are broken.” Patted the floor next to her and placed the book in my hands and calmly asked me to read. Her voice was sweet and her manner showed no signs of cruelty. Jeff said she had a good heart compared to the rest of them. He too was on the fence regarding her mother and Shane. Yet sensed darkness and yet some good, but either side tried to control her.  She was also with child so it was hard to tell if the light was coming from the child or her. I was told to say nothing regarding it because there would be a question regarding how I knew when nobody told me. And I agreed. I had my own secrets too hide.

After the reading, she told me she didn’t feel it necessary to pray unless I wanted to. I shook my head no and she took my hands softly and said someday soon she was going to find a way to leave this house and go far, far away. She didn’t elaborate and I didn’t ask. We talked for a while as she listened to my said an unbelievable story. Regarding my home life and how I was taken away from the only family that truly loved me. She promised she would keep what I said to her self. Stating everyone needed secrets.

Then it was time for her to go. Hearing the lock on the door click and open as she quickly leaned against the wall yelled. “Mule Boy stand.” With a quick wink as she waited for her father to enter the room with his son Shawn at his side. I stood there as I watched Shawn set down the bone needle and my humility vest on the floor near my feet, and helped her sister carry out my dirty clothes and washing items; leaving the room while Dad closed the door.

I started to take my place on the floor. But I was struck hard saying he did not give me permission to sit. I stood there until I was given permission and waited for the next order. “Mule boy sit.” But as soon as I sat on the floor he smiled giving me the order “Mule boy stand.” He repeated the order for nearly 30 minutes before he set me to my task kicking me as I sat and began sewing my vest. Dad would read a copy of my file that the social worker had given them. I wasn’t aware that was even allowed, but apparently, it was, for he had it in his hands.

Every so often he would pause and ask me a question regarding things I felt he no business knowing. Like how often I masturbated? To him, it wasn’t a question if I did even though stated I didn’t. He would strike me calling me a liar. He even asked if I liked to watch boys my age shower in the locker room or if watched my sisters bathe. The questions were meant too humiliate me and get a rise from me. I wanted to hit him; I wanted to kill him as he watched my knuckles turn white as I clenched my hands into fists. I was appalled and humiliated; I was degraded mentally and physically.

If it wasn’t for Jeff sitting near me calming me the best he could, but it wasn’t enough. Instead, I just lost it. I took a swing at him after he started to degrade my Ma and Pa saying the most disgusting things that no one should ever say. He was strong as he quickly pinned me to the floor on my stomach. Twisting my arms behind my back as he lay on top of me; leaning his head down close to my face, he spits letting his saliva run down my cheeks; then laughed watching me struggle and scream as he punched me repeatedly, growling in my ear how puny and weak I was.

Telling me how ashamed people were of me; the Steeds didn’t want a sniveling baby so worthless and sinful that they left me behind like the garbage I am. The Downing’s couldn’t stand me and my lies and weren’t cut out to raise a boy with so many sins. Saying my Ma was a tramp, and harlot and my Pa was a two bit loser; never worked a day in his life. They had so many sins and were members of Satin's house of lies that no church would ever take them in.  He kept at it before letting me up, daring me to take another swing at him. I was far from being broken and he knew it.

I used to think I had already experienced child abuse from my parents and some foster homes. I had come to the conclusion that I wasn’t even close; for there was pure evil here and it manifested self behind these doors. I was living in a nightmare that would never end. Yet I still hadn’t scratched the surface; I would soon learn this was nothing to what would come next over the next three and half years. In fact, it was hard to believe that in time I would love them, almost as much as the Downing’s, but for know, I hated everything about them. Yet the world needs to know that there are people out there that think they can get away with such cruelty when hidden behind closed doors.