A Mothers Trust part 1

Chapter 63

A Mothers Trust

Part 1

My mother helped me unpack my suitcase, trying her best to apologize in person for her and my father actions; begging me for one more chance to make it right, even though I could feel her sincerity I didn’t trust her. She left me to my silence telling me I was free to explore the neighborhood with my brother and to be home before dark. Once again I was shocked I didn’t know what to think as I waited for the monster to attack me. I sat in living room watching them interact with each other, I watched my mother cook. Her skills had improved since I had been gone. I wasn’t sure if I was watching to make sure she didn’t poison the food or was I watching because I was so unfamiliar with it and different compared to my siblings.

My mother would smile at me from time to time. Not saying a word as I sat watched everyone else’s. I never felt at home being gone most of my life. I didn’t feel the closeness. Even Aaron seemed more distant then we had been. In some ways, it scared me. I couldn’t relax; I sat there waiting for the dream to shatter. Aaron was happy playing in the backyard, by himself. My sisters seemed happy and healthy. Then again they always had been, it seemed I was the intruder that didn’t belong.

Yet I sat there watching, wishing I was a part of their lives, knowing deep down that was never going to happen. I missed the Rothwell’s and their little quirks. Even Shawn, Arthur and Danny because them I knew, it was familiar. This wasn’t and it bothered me. I asked if I could help with dinner instead of feeling out of place, hoping doing something would take the edge off.

My mother nodded telling me where everything was in the kitchen going as far as opening every cupboard, every drawer, and the pantry. She didn’t bother to ask what I could do just simply told me what she had planned for dinner. She picked up a knife to hand me, to help with the vegetables. I backed away quickly towards the door, said over and over “you promised, you promised.” I was halfway across the room before she dropped the knife onto the floor. Hearing me say my safe words watching me get into a fighting stance.

In a calm voice, she said she was sorry, she didn’t mean to scare me, realizing that I had seen her attack me with a knife. She started to cry and panic, waiting for the police to come charging in as we both stood there waiting in our own private fears. I was close to pushing the button, but Dad had me promises that if my life was in danger don’t hesitate to protect your self, but stay calm.

I kept calm waiting, but my mother didn’t pick up the knife. Instead, she kicked to the side stating that she had no intention to harm me. I nodded and took deep breaths. Allowing her to come near me, giving her the chance to prove that she didn’t mean to harm me, but in some ways, I was hoping she would and the visit would be over, and I would never see them again.

But it was also true that I would never see Aaron again and he would be put into the system, the very thing that I have been fighting against my entire life. I took deeper breaths to calm me letting my mother come closer. I waited for her to break her word, but instead, she hugged me against her. Telling me she would never harm me again.

I could feel her body shake as she held me. Not realizing I too was shaking. When we were both assured that our fears weren’t coming true. She knelled down and looked me in the eyes promising me again that I could trust her. I could see she meant it, but it inside I didn’t trust her waiting for the monster to break free; my mind warning me it was all just a trick nothing more.

My mother wiped her eyes and calmly stepped away from me and returned to her work. When I was convinced that I wasn’t in any danger I moved slowly back into the kitchen and picked up the knife and cleaned it, and finished working on the vegetables. Neither of said anything as we worked together fixing dinner. She would smile and I smile back, but I still kept my guard up. I nearly jumped out of my skin when the backdoor opened and slammed shut seeing my father enter the room.

He sneered at me and in return, my mother moved closer to me giving him a warning said. “This was her house and Eric is more than welcome to be here and if he didn’t like it he could sleep somewhere else.” It shocked me that she would stand up for me. Me the son she never wanted. My father growled and walked back out the door he came in from. My mother hugged my shoulders seeing the terror on my face asking me if I was alright.

When she was convinced that I was she released me. I noticed her eyes facing a small locked box attached to the wall. I knew what it was and I knew what was in there having watched Dave hang it and one near my room. My mother had the only key that I was aware of. She noticed my eyes seeing her’s roam the box then watched her shoulders relax whispering “he’s, fine, he’s fine.” and returned to her work.

I helped set the table questioning where everyone would be sitting; wondering and hoping it wasn’t anywhere near my father, yet at the same time I was wishing I wasn’t here. My mother called everyone in telling them to wash up for dinner. I could see in my sister’s eyes right away that I wasn’t welcome not that it surprised me either. I knew my place and it wasn’t here.

My father was the last to be seated. It seemed similar to how everyone was seated. My chair was next to my mother and Aaron while my sisters sat on the other side of us. My mother smiled seeing everyone at the table wiping a tear that had escaped noting that her entire family was here; hearing her whisper “at last her dream was coming true.”

Unlike the Rothwell’s we did not pray or hold hands, instead, we waited for my father to start which stated they were now allowed to eat. I sat there waiting for the dream to shatter watching everyone fill their plates. My mother nudged me leaning down asking me if something was wrong noticing my plate was empty. I shook my head that I was fine and slowly filled mine after everyone else had a chance. I couldn’t shake the feeling I didn’t belong here. My fathers face kept shifting from Dad and my fathers. I noticed I was breathing harder and could feel the panic coming on strong. I whispered to my mother that I needed some fresh air.

I slipped quickly out of my chair and nearly ran to the back door fumbling at latch as my hands shook. When the door finally opened I was close to being overcome by an episode. My mind wouldn’t calm as I hurried down the steps and out the back finding it locked shut. I panic even more trying to get out, I felt trapped like a caged animal. My mother quickly came to my rescue, but to me, I saw the monster as I quickly stepped away getting into my fighting stance.

My mother must have known, if she came anywhere near me I would spring and take her or anyone down. Instead, she hurried and opened the gate swing it wide open and stepped further away keeping a safe distance as she watched me run out the gate. Being barefoot didn’t stop me, nothing could stop me when I chose to run. I kept running until I could no longer see the house and was sitting on the steps that officer Kenly had indicted was his home. The police car was a big indicator that it was.

I was doing my best not to panic, but my mind kept telling me I was in danger. I screamed seeing my mother and father coming towards me. I could see the knife in my mother’s hand. I could see the belt slapping the palm of my father hand as they were getting closer. I repeated my safe words over and over, but it didn’t help. I screamed when I felt someone touch me. Then quickly let me go allowing me to run as the panic got stronger.

It was nearly 3 hours before Officer Kenly found me walking the streets, my feet and hands bloodied and my face and clothes covered in dirt. I seemed lost but I wasn’t. I knew these streets like the back of my hand. Yet I felt like I hadn’t seen them before. When I recognized him I fell to my knees begging him to take me back home, back to the Rothwell’s.

He took a seat next to me bring me closer to him letting me cry against his shoulder because I was so scared. I knew they could find me, it wasn’t a question all they had to do was pick up the phone and my monitor would tell them where I was. When I finally calmed down enough he walked me to his car and drove me back to his house.

Everything had changed over the years where once was an empty field house were being built. He helped me clean me up while we talked about what caused me to panic, inquiring if my parents harmed me in any way. I shook my head no and he sighed with relief asking if it was ok if he could call my mother and the Rothwell’s so they know I was ok.

I said he could, wincing realizing I let episode control me. Thinking Dad would be angry with me, but instead, he was relieved that I was alright asking if I needed to come home. My mind was begging me to say yes, but I said it wasn’t necessary. I had just panic having them so near me. He understood and we both knew it was going to be a problem. One of the reasons why they had taken extra measures to ensure my safety. I knew I had to conquer this fear one of the main reasons I had been taught to defend myself.

Officer Kenly drove me back even though I could have easily walked back on my own, but I was glad to have him close by. My mother sighed with relief seeing me safely returned in spite of the mess I was in. Dirt and blood could easily be washed off and my cuts were not serious enough to want a trip to the hospital.

She ran a hot bath for me and let me have my privacy, instead, I asked her to stay. Which seemed to shock her and me when the words came out of my mouth, I watched her hesitate at the door. I asked her again to stay. She nodded and closed the door. I could see tears in her eyes when she looked at me. Something said she was no longer a danger to me. Yet I still didn’t trust her. In truth, I wanted to believe she had changed.

My mother sat at the edge of the tub trying not to have her eyes roam about my body. I knew I was old enough that I didn’t need my mother to bathe me. But neither was I uncomfortable about it thanks to the Rothwell’s. Parents and family didn’t count when it came to modesty. I slowly took her hand and told her I was sorry for running off. I told her “it wasn’t her fault; it was mine for panicking unable to control the fear. Something I or we needed to work on.” She grinned and squeezed my hand and I smiled. I let her wash my back and my hair. I could feel her hand shake as she touched my skin where the scars hadn’t faded yet. I had been told they to would fade as I grow older, but the memory of it will always remain.

She laughed when she said that had been years since ever had the chance to bathe me and again she was sorry that she had missed that opportunity, repeating over and over that she had missed so many opportunity’s; nearly sobbing uncontrollably as her hand lingered on the scares on my exposed skin. Some of those her and my father caused and others were caused by the Rothwell’s.

I didn’t know what to call her so shy I asked what she preferred, in some ways, I was letting her in and giving her some trust and praying that she wouldn’t break it. She didn’t answer right away; I must have hit a nerve that she wasn’t ready for. She asked what I did call Mr. and Mrs. Rothwell I said “Mom and Dad” almost hesitating. She finally said, “Mom would be just fine; it has a nice ring to it.” Just like that, it was settled.

I let Mom dry me off and comb my hair. It was late so I simply dressed in my boxers, besides my clothes were practically ruined, and I knew Mrs. Rothwell would just throw them away. But Mom put them to be washed and placed them on the floor of the closet realizing that I didn’t have a clothes hamper like everyone else. Said she would have to buy one tomorrow and any paint I would like to paint my room. Mom hated plain white walls; every room had a different color. Which was new to me considering they have lived in a trailer most of our lives. In some ways, I was glad to see it because it made it feel a little bit more like home and it made me miss the Downing’s even more.

Mom warmed my supper so I wouldn’t go to bed hungry. She sat with me just me and her while the rest of the family was watching TV in the living room. When I was done I washed my plate and sat outside on the front porch. Even though they had a family room downstairs it was never used as one. My father used it for indoor clothesline when the dryer stopped working. He had this bad habit of hanging clothes all over the house over doors and chairs instead of having the dryer fixed. My mother hated it when he did it. She was a lot stricter when it came to keeping a clean house, compared to when they lived in a trailer, but it was never immaculate like the Rothwell’s. The house looked lived in and made you feel at home the second you walked in the door.

Mom soon joined me, instead of pressuring me to join the rest of the family. We both knew I needed time, she asked if I was cold seeing the goosebumps on my skin, I said a little letting her lean me against her and rub my arms and shoulders. Even though the house were close together where we now lived. I felt I was decent enough; modesty was the least of my concern.

Again I can thank the Rothwell’s for that. In some ways, it felt like home sitting comfortably letting the fresh air tickle my bare skin. It also gave me time to think of all the things I have gone through. I smiled when I thought of my sisters Jody and Kerry on how many times they have seen my very cute butt. I thought of Shane and I running naked in the field. It made me miss them and I hadn’t really been gone more than a few hours.

I knew it was past my bedtime seeing the lights turn off and hearing footsteps. My father growled asking if we planned on staying outside all night. My mother turned to face him stating it didn’t matter I could stay all night out here if I chose to. My father slammed the door closed and turned off the porch light. I didn’t make a move or indicate I was ready to go inside. I was fine right where I was. Mom stayed with me and drew me closer stroking my hair telling me she liked it this way. Not quite long, but not short either. I firmly stated I wasn’t about to let her cut it. She said hadn’t cut hair since grandma stole the clippers.

It was at least another hour or two before I was ready saying I was getting cold as an excuse to have to go back in. The real reason I waited was I wanted to make sure my father was safely in his room. I watched Mom mix the tonic in some orange juice, nearly coming closes of not drinking it. Knowing it would leave me variable and unable to protect myself. It took a lot of faith to drink half of it and declining the rest and told her that I just didn’t trust her enough or my father not to harm me when I couldn’t defend myself. I could see the hurt in her eyes, but she understood. Putting the rest of it in the fridge instead of dumping it down the sink, I knew it would keep until morning before it had to be thrown out. Mrs. Rothwell did it enough times when I needed a nap after a severe thunderstorm.

What I didn’t tell her that sometimes it didn’t work, especially when my terror was at a high level like it is now. Some secrets or best kept when the chances are high, and right now they couldn’t be higher. Mom turned the bed down and tucked me in like I was a little boy. She even kissed me on the cheek before leaving the room wishing me goodnight. It was something new to me considering she had never done that before.

It scared me hearing her walk down the hall repeating the same thing to each of my siblings. I could hear Aaron through the vent saying he actually loved her. It made me tear up when he asked about me asking her if he could sleep with me. Mom said it would make me feel more at home, the next thing I heard was Aaron running up the stairs his footsteps opening my door. I wanted to cry as he climbed in bed with me having Mom tuck us both in. I could see she was actually happy as she lingered at the door before closing it. It was barely a whisper but thought I heard her say “my family is home.”