A Wolf In Sheep Clothing. Part 1

Chapter 32

A Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing.

Part 1

 

When the door closed Mr. Rothwell leaned down placing his hand on the back of my neck holding me tight as Mrs. Rothwell blocked us from direct sight. To give her husband time enough to do what was necessary whispering “don’t mark him.” keeping a pleasant face and waved to someone she knew as they were going inside the chapel.

Mr. Rothwell whispered in not in a very friendly manner. “I know, not in public;” knelled down as if he was straightening my tie almost choking me, said confirming my fears. “We will talk about this later, boy, and it won’t be pleasant.” Standing and almost dragging me along as if I wasn’t moving fast enough. Grumbling how stupid a decision it was; stating it was easier to convince the last Bishop what needed to be done when it comes to committing sins before God.

The rest of the family was inside waiting, taking the entire bench in the middle section. Mr. Rothwell motioned Arthur to sit on the other side of him as I sat in between his wife and him. Putting on a smile that everything was fine as everyone came by to shake hands while he introduced me by my name correctly. When asked about the other boy they said he had been returned to live with his parents. Giving the impression we were one big happy family.

Shawn and Shane went to their expected post, Shane quickly sat at the sacrament table with the priest, considering there were very few, and it was his turn to bless the sacrament. Shawn sat with the teachers and the deacons to help pass the sacrament. I was curious to why Arthur wasn’t permitted to as well, he being at least a teacher like me. I didn’t dare ask. Right now I had my own worries, to worry about. Providing I lived long enough considering what transpired with the Bishop.

I felt I at least had one person on my side and was wondering if the Bishop was in tuned with the spirit world. Something told me he was, but I wish he wouldn’t have said anything regarding me and Jeff. Unless he was giving Mrs. and Mr. Rothwell warning that they were being watched by a higher power. Saying God is watching and he is not happy.

I kept to myself and did my best to pay attention to each of the speakers. In some ways, I was thanking God for sending Jeff to me, that and it wasn’t fast Sunday. Fast Sunday to me was the worst day of the entire month. Having to fast entire meal or sometimes two depending on the time your ward met. Then having to sit through testimony after testimony where they say over and over the same thing. How they believe in God and how the Book of Mormon is true and thankful this and thankful for that. Sometimes it was the same people each month and their kids.

It gets to be so overbearing; that I wanted to bang my head against the wall so I wouldn’t hear them. I have never in my life seen so many brainwashed kids and parents. I am sorry but it is true. Not everyone has a happy family. Were their parents beat them physically, mentally and sometimes sexually. Not everyone has such a perfect life where they are loved and feel safe at night. I am sorry if this you, but if you had read anything that of my life and took the rose-colored off, and really understood the people like me living these atrocities. You understand why we feel that we are not included and angered by being left out; as we are told too honor our parents and forgive them for what they had done to you. As if it was ok in the first place for them to do it and keep on doing it. All I am asking that you consider it, nothing more nothing less.

Don’t make it worse by apologizing over and over for having us experience it. It gets old real fast. Sometimes all we want is for someone to listen to us and not prejudge us, but actually, listen; sometimes having a shoulder to cry on as the nightmares of our past still seem so real; that we are living it over and over again. It has been nearly over thirty-five years and I am still reliving the nightmares so often I am afraid to sleep at night. So many times I have tried to kill myself, just so the nightmares would stop. But I do find writing and talking about them does help. I am worried about what happens when I have nothing else to say.

I did my best as I listened to each talk and taking parts of it finding a way to make it sound more interesting. Knowing I would have to present it what I had learned. I was never really good at public speaking; even though I came in second place for my speech on How to Become an American when I was living with the Frys at the time, but it had been several years. My grandmother was so proud of me and still displays the trophy in her living room; knowing that my father would have thrown it away. Like they do with all my school pictures, even though my grandmother paid for them because they wanted no part of it; to them, I was not worth the paper they were printed on.

It used to be when I lived with the Steeds and the Frys. That we would spend an hour in sacrament meeting then go home and come back two hours later for Sunday school and primary or priesthood. But now due to the rotation schedule, we spend three straight hours attending all three meetings; sometimes backward; having Primary and Sunday school first then sacrament meeting last. Unfortunately, they still do it. Personally, I was glad for the change. It seemed we would spend the whole day in church. Giving us no time to play than having to stop, eat and return for two more hours and eat again an hour later, then the day was gone. To say I was disappointed when they changed to the three-hour block would be a lie, and I am sure others were just as glad; parents and kids both.

To think for one seconded that I was allowed to join the other kids as they went to Sunday school and priesthood, think again. I for one had to attend all my meetings with Mr. Rothwell by my side. I considered Arthur was lucky as he followed either Shane or Shawn as I watched him follow them head bowed and as if he was on a tight leash. I knew he was beaten and broken. But I didn’t know his story at the time or how they treated him. Considering I have only worked with him one-time in the garden and never saw him until meal time or family prayers. We hadn’t spoken one word to each other and would be many days before I would. Even know I shutter when I think about what was taking place down in the basement.

But something was off or different, as I watched his face and eyes as if something was wrong with him. If I didn’t know better I would guesses he was mildly retarded. Again I had my own worries at the moment but I was indeed curious. I was hoping Jody would share some light on it, but I had no idea when I would speak to her next. So far I had been pretty isolated and that too bothered me. I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach that something worse was going on.

I still shudder as I think about it. Hoping I can write about it without reliving the nightmares. I have already as it is can’t sleep as I write this worst chapter of my life, but I need to get it out in the open and come face to face with the terror one last time. My mind is so focused on it at this very moment of time; that I am afraid that if I don’t write it and set it aside. I will never be able to write it. Even now Jeff is here by my side doing his best to encourage me. Telling me its time to tell the world and myself it's ok, somebody out there needs to know that someone has lived through the nightmare and so can they.

So far I have had kept my end of the bargain regarding being silent and not causing attention to myself. I remained a shy and timid rabbit. Soon everyone left me to my silence as I moved from one meeting to the next. I stood when I was told, I sat when and where I was told. I only spoke when given permission or asked a question; leaving veg answers. Not once did I let on that something was wrong, and not once did he strike me inside the church house. He didn’t drag me down the hall, and I tried very hard not to flinch when he put his arm around me; when he introduced me to someone when they came by to say hello shaking our hands.

To everyone else, it looked like we were father and son, but inside I was shaking with terror. It took great control not to pee my pants from fear, as he leaned over to whisper in my ear to relax. That so far I was doing fine and that it would get easier as time went by. I knew it was a lie the second he said it. To him and everyone else, this was nothing but a show. I knew the monster inside of him, I knew the darkness that awaited me. I knew the second that we were home, that the sleeping giant would awake. I knew there was no place to hide and nobody was going to rescue me. I had question many times during those years on how many times I had faced death and only to elude him or shake his hand. To say I am afraid of death even now after having experienced these hardships. I tell you I would go willingly as he has become my only friend.

The hour soon approached as the meeting ended, I knew that I was in for it, I had hoped after three hours and doing as I was told, that he might have forgotten. You might have heard the term. “If wishes were fishes then everyone would have a fish.” Personally, I hate fish, I hate how they smell, and I hate how they taste. I gag every time I see someone eating them. It didn’t matter how it was cooked I couldn’t get past the smell. To this day I don’t eat fish, but I do like shrimp, crab, and lobster.

I tried really hard not to watch the clock and I tried not to think about how I was going to be punished. I still hadn’t seen Jeff for almost the entire day. I was praying that I haven’t got him in trouble by breaking so many rules. Yes I know it’s hard to think that ghost or guardian angels have rules, but they do. I wasn’t given a handbook on what they were, but somehow I knew it was my fault for pushing him to help me, when he wasn’t supposed to do more than observe and provide comfort and advice; besides in truth I really hadn’t been in any danger since the night before, but now the sleeping giant is about to awake.

Like I have said earlier, we didn’t live far from the church house; it was at least a ten-minute drive if that. I dreaded every single moment, as everyone remained quiet as I sat there between them. Watching the houses go by and slowly pulled up into the driveway, and waited for the beating I was sure to get. Yet nothing happened as Mr. Rothwell turned off the engine and sat there for a good ten minutes. Nobody made a move to get out of the car. He sighed heavily turned his head and said. “It was rough, but you did good. Will talk after you change your clothes, about what happened today. But for now, you did good.”

I didn’t know I was holding my breath before I remembered to breathe after he said it. I followed everyone inside as he led me back to my room telling me to change into some play clothes. And his wife would be in to change the bandages on my back. But in the meantime, I should work on my report. I said yes sir and waited for him to lock the door. But he left it open instead, which surprised me. My instincts were telling me to run, run while I still had a chance, but I didn’t it. Instead, I did what I was told. Carefully hung up my clothes placing my shoes next to my sneakers and placed my shirt and socks into the hamper. I winced seeing the blood that had leaked through onto the shirt. I knew if he whipped me today or even the next day, he would easily reopen my wounds. I doubted he would wait, but again I wasn’t going to borrow trouble, I already had enough than too borrow more.

It was nearly an hour as I sat there on the bed with the door open afraid to venture out. Before Mrs. Rothwell came in with the first aid kit and a humility vest, not the one I was working on, but a completed one. She calmly laid it on the end of the bed saying I could use this one until I had completed mine, but today was Sunday. We as a family are already humbled before God and cleansed after taking the sacrament, and I had repented all my sins to the Bishop and through him, I was cleansed before God. I thought she was a cracked and religious nut before considering 99.9% of those sins were lies, but I didn’t push it. Again I had enough to worry about.

She sat my work aside and told me after she had cleaned my wounds that her husband would be waiting for me in the living room. In case I had decided to run. I nodded that I understood and I had nowhere to go. In my mind, I doubted that I would even be able to find my way back. I was very unfamiliar with my surroundings. I may have known Santaquin like the back of my hand. Even some parts of Provo and Orem, but here; it would be too easy to get lost without a map, and I didn’t have one. I put that on my list of things I needed before I headed for safer parts to find the Downings.

I had decided that it would be my first goal to start making the long trek to Arizona where Reggie lived than find my Ma and Pa. I had no reason to go back home and face my parents, and somehow I would find a way to contact my grandmother to let her know that I was alright. I missed my brother Aaron a lot, but there was very little if anything I could do to help him; when right now I couldn’t even help myself as it was.

When she was done I was asked to see if the humility vest fit so she could put it in the wash in the morning. Once I had done what I was told she took it off and handed me a dark red button down shirt almost the color of blood. Saying it would be easier to clean than the white shirt I had worn earlier and Shane refused to wear it. It was big almost too big for me, but after I tucked it in she seemed satisfied; asking if I wouldn’t mind helping her in the kitchen. I nodded as I watched her pick up my dirty clothes from the closest, but I said I could carry them if she wanted me to. After all, for my plan to work I needed to win them over with kindness and get them to trust me.

She said thank you and I said. “No problem it’s the least I could do.” I preceded to follow her down the hallway as she stopped at each room knocking; telling me to stay by the door while she went to each of the rooms. I had learned that my room was nestled down in the far corner while the master bedroom which her and her husband used was cross the hall from mine, with master bathroom with a shower instead of a tub that opened into three corner entryway which led out to the backdoor, down to the basement and into the dining room. The main bedrooms were on the first floor. I hadn’t known which room was who’s until today; Jared and Jason rooms where first across the hall from the main bathroom, Kerry’s and Jody’s where side by side.

My arms were getting tired and heavy, but I didn’t let on that they were as I followed her down to the laundry room; which was between the kitchen and the family room. Where everyone was except for Arthur; I looked out the window and didn’t see him and figured he was downstairs in his room. Something bothered me about it, but some secrets were better left alone and I wasn’t about to borrow more trouble.

She opened the door instructed me to set them in the large hamper and closed the door. I was on my way back to the living room. She stopped me, placing her hand on my shoulder; then changed her mind letting me go. I quickly went over to the sink and washed my hands and face; drying them on my pants not wanting to dirty a clean towel. She scowled at me handing me the towel. I said I was sorry, saying I didn’t want to put my dirt on a clean towel. She smiled at me saying that next time please do so instead of my pants. I said "yes ma’am" and made my way back to the living room as she watched me as if I was about to run away. But I wanted too; I really did, rather than face the sleeping giant.

Still no sign of Jeff, I don’t know why it bothered me so; but it did. After all, he said he would always be there for me when I need him the most. I was far from being safe. I was about to be punished for something I didn’t do, and it concerned me. I entered the living room seeing Mr. Rothwell reading the paper. I stood silently waiting in the middle of the room as he read his newspaper. I didn’t dare say anything nor sit without permission as my shoulders itched against the shirt and the bandages.

Like everyone else he didn’t wear shoes, except for house slippers, everyone else either went barefoot in the house or wore socks. Arthur and I weren’t allowed either thinking it would stop us from running way off the property. I wanted to laugh inside as I thought about me running around town in only my boxers, even though it was night and very few if any saw me. It didn’t stop me from running away, but that was one secret I was not going to divulge, certainly not here.

I stood for a good fifteen minutes before he set the paper down and pointed to the other brown leather chair that matched the rest of the furniture in the room; so he could see me across the room and still be close to me if he wanted to strike me. I waited for him to call me mule boy, but instead called me Earick and told me calmly to take a seat. I knew he did it on purpose to see if he could goad me; knowing very well he could pronounce it correctly. I didn’t let it bother me and took a seat as directed.

He sighed folding the paper nearly rolling it in his hands as if he planned to strike me with it. Then noticed it and quietly set it on the floor; placing his hands on the arms of the chair drumming his fingers; as he sat looking outside the window as if he was gathering his thoughts before he returned his eyes to me saying. “Son, you have put me in quite the pickle today. I don’t know whether to beat you, strangle you, are worse.” Pausing to let that settle in. “Yet you had done exactly what we told you to do. You didn’t faultier or give the feeling you were being untruthful. I doubt you could have done it any better. Heck, I have known boys to buckle under the stress, but you didn’t.” He looked away from me as if he was deciding my fate.

Giving a heavy sigh, “I may not like the decision, but neither can I go against one of Gods appointed, if he says you are clean you are clean and if I, we find fault with his decisions then I go against the almighty God himself; and believe me, son, when I say that I am and my family are man of God.” Pausing as he leans forward and lifts my chin as I looked deep into his eyes and feel his hot breath on my face. “But if you give me causes I will strike you down before God and his Almighty Angels. You son will feel my wrath; that I will promise you. So be warned. Don’t lie to me, do what I tell you to do and when and things will go much easier for you.” Sitting back in his chair with his right leg over his left leg, placing his hands over the arm of the chair; “do I have your word that you will not lie and do your best to obey when asked.”

I said. “Yes, Sir Mr. Rothwell…” knowing I was supposed to say Dad and quickly said. “Yes Dad, I completely understand.” Watching him nod his head and returned to the window. I almost got up but remained seated not trusting my good fortune. He told me I could go and help my mother in the kitchen, but first, he wanted to know about what the Bishop said about Jeff.

My heart sunk, if I told the truth he would think I’d lied to him, I winced as he waited drumming his fingers as he warned me. There was nothing I could do but tell him. I asked; “what did you want to know?" Hoping I could skim the truth a bit by being veg with my answers. I knew I was going to get struck down if I lied, but wondered if it was still a lie anymore; since I had confessed to it already. I waited as he looked at me as if I was the one that struck him.

His mouth tightened then relaxed said calmly. “You told me you hadn’t seen him in a long time. But somehow I think you were lying to me, but then again it’s hard to believe that some boy like you; or anyone saying they see dead people must be touched in the head. But either the Bishop was funning with you saying he had a visitation from a spiritual being, which I guess could happen since he is the Bishop and could communicate with the Almighty. Anything is possible, considering he was chosen by God. It is not uncommon even for the Prophet of God to see Angels and God himself, but a simple boy and a sinful boy seeing a spiritual being gives me pause on what to believe. Yes, sir son you have put me in quite a pickle. So I am curious to hear this tale. So it would be best to start from the beginning.”

I wanted to run because I couldn’t breathe as if the air in the room didn’t seem to be enough as he waited for me to begin my tale. I was wondering what parts to leave out. Could I skip saying I haven’t seen Jeff in a long time? Even though I didn’t see Jeff I knew he had returned or he was closes by, as my eyes quickly glanced around the room, not seeing him. So I began from the time he died, wincing feeling the blame for letting it happen. And end it by saying. “I haven’t seen him since I moved in with the Downing’s, but he always knows when I am in trouble, either by seeing him or feeling him nearby.” Leaving out how Ma could see him; and how he was still here, just not where I can see him.

He seemed to be satisfied, skeptic yet a little worried. Well, he should be. I waited for more questions. Mrs. Rothwell saved me by coming in saying its time for me and Arthur to start dinner if he would please go down and get him. I had a feeling she never went down there unless she had to or she would have done it herself. In some ways, I was curious about why.  He nodded he would and released me saying he couldn’t wait to see how I present my first oral report tonight.