Carefree Lifestyle Part 1

Chapter 73

Carefree Lifestyle

Part 1

It had seemed that when you are the happiest, fate steps in to take it away. I had only been home for two months before it came calling. I remember my father’s last words warning me if I came back he would kill me. I was lucky that so far he had kept his word by forbidding my mother to invite me back into her home. Several times she would try to see me; only to cancel at the last minute.

I don’t know what it is when it comes to Social Services always sticking their noses in where it doesn’t belong. It was my fault really for doing so well. My grades were top notch, and I seldom had a night terror, and when I did they were easy to bring me down. Dad always kept tranquilizers on hand just in case, but since I had been home he had only had to use them once.

I have made vast improvements when came to sleeping, only needing the meds to help me sleep, not knocking me out. I still hadn’t conquered the fear of basements, but I was close, closer than I have ever been. It is safe to say I had been able to make it all the way down to the weight room during the day, only when Dad and Shane are down there, but when nightfall came I would freak out. Yet it progressed, and progress was my downfall.

I haven’t had a home-visit since I had been sick and since then I had made the most progress. Easter break was coming and would be a four day weekend. My caseworker had insisted upon it considering the fact the last one was a success compared to any of the previous ones to date. Also, my father and my sisters wouldn’t be home since they had been invited to go camping.

Aaron and my mother were also invited, but they had declined the offer so they could spend that time with me instead. Personally, I doubt either of them was that disappointed or was it a hard decision to make, for them at least. Mom and Dad were planning to take the whole family to the lake for the entire Easter weekend.  If I had a choice I would have chosen to go with them.

Dad had invited my mother and my brother to go with them, but my mother declined the offer for the fact there was no way she was hiking on foot up there or would she ever get on a horse. I don’t know who was happier the horse or her, but in any case, she won the battle, when my caseworker picked me up a day before I was scheduled to go. I think she had a sick sense of hummer or wanted a little payback of her own, by extending my visit by two days exactly adding a day before and a day after. My mother and brother were more than pleased by it; my foster parents and me not so much when she pulled up on Tuesday and was waiting for me to come home from school.

Mom and Dad didn’t like me missing school, but when a kid like me is always ahead of the class and had grades that put you on the Honor-Roll they were simply willing to look the other way. I wasn’t allowed one scrape of homework; I was only allowed the clothing on my back and nothing else, other than a few pieces of sheet music. It made feel exposed, but I also knew my mother. Mom and Dad had spoken in length to my mother regarding my care, reminding her of her promises and trusting her to keep them. With several hurtful tears I watched the family I loved fade away.

Unlike before there would be no phone calls home; there would be no phone calls to grandma since none of them would be home. Everyone including me was putting a lot of trust in my mother not to harm me. I felt completely and utterly alone. When I arrived Mom and Aaron were waiting for me, my father and my sister’s sneered “sissy boy.”

My mother told me too ignores them while she and my caseworker hurried me inside. I had been told they would be here when I arrived, but neither of them would be here long. I was confident that I could protect myself if I had to, I wasn’t at the top-notch shape, but neither was I a weakling. I only had to hold my ground until my uncle Darrald arrived to pick them and their camping gear. They would spend the night elsewhere… rather than to be with us and our so-called immoral ways.

I knew my father was angry, but neither did I let him provoke me into a fight or was I scared of him any longer. My caseworker didn’t stay long, just long enough to get me settled. Checking to see if I had the basics, like clothing, knowing my “Carefree Lifestyle, I wouldn’t need much, and it didn’t bother her. In fact she highly approved of it, even more so after reading my thick file and having sat down with all of us discussing this so-called “carefree lifestyle” She also made sure I had plenty of food and a room where I could feel safe in, and the new tranquilizers tucked safely away in the lock box.

The new door had been put in, but it wasn’t the fancy door I had ordered. It was safe enough being made of steel cased in wood on the outside. With three solid deadbolt locks that went 6 inches into the frame. Just a simple turn of the lock and it would keep the monsters out. Only three people had the key, Bishop Earl, Officer Kenly, and my mother, watching her hand over her key to me.

I had a new phone sitting on my dresser as promised, but no fancy security camera to show me who was outside my door. I didn’t say anything, I simply knew my father had something to do with it, and between all of them, this was merely a compromise.

Right away I could see my room had been cleaned by not seeing a speck of dust anywhere and the red carpet had several fresh strips where the vacuum had gone against the grain. I could smell the fresh scent of downy and hint of jasmine and seeing several new pictures hanging on the wall of the ones Mom had taken of me and Aaron. It seemed like a lifetime ago since I had been in this room. I opened the closet knowing that there would be plenty of clothing, why wouldn’t there be if I wasn’t allowed to bring any with me.

My caseworker left handing her three small bottles of the medication I would be taking. They had been counted out beforehand to ensure my safety of an overdose; which more than likely would terminate the visit and void the promises. I knew my mother; well I hoped I knew my mother would never allow that to happen. She wanted me back into her life and she wanted her family whole again.

Personally, I had my doubts that it would ever happen, knowing how my father and my sisters felt about me. It didn’t matter which home I was in people hated me, but fate is cruel. If it wasn’t I wouldn’t be standing in my room waiting for the monsters to kill me. Instead, I would be a Downing, living far, far away from the monsters on both sides trying to kill me.

I could tell right away the atmosphere changed in the home, the fact that Aaron was wearing shoes and socks, and a shirt with long pants instead of shorts on a hot day like today; told me enough that my father was behind it. I also knew he like me was dying to strip down to our boxers or even less now that Mom supported mine and his” Carefree Lifestyle.”

Aaron simply waited for the chance; watching the clock waiting for that magical moment while we watched my father and sisters outside checking off their gear. Mom too was pacing until she couldn’t take it any longer. Took off Aaron shoes and socks hearing my father growl seeing Aaron barefoot, watching him strip down to his boxers with my mothers help, my father ordering them to put some clothes on. Only to turn around hearing Darrald drive up hocking the horn. Telling my mother when they get back they were going to have words, and I knew they weren’t going to be pleasant. Knowing full well that he and my sisters didn’t support our “Carefree Lifestyle”

By the time my father made it back from the kitchen with cooler of cold sodas, Mom had removed his boxers showing me his well tan body and fold up his clothes. Ordering me if I didn’t have them off in 5 seconds she was going to rip them off me with her bare hands in a most playful manner, she was almost giddy about it watching me grin and laugh waiting for my father to stop her and me from doing it.

She wasted no time taking my shoes and socks off and threw them across the room, nearly hitting my father in the head while she tickled my bare feet. Earning several cuss words from my father, but there was little he could do with Darrald honking in the driveway wanting to get underway.

Mom turned to him and said. “These are my boys and this is my house, if I want to see every inch of them frolic in the house naked or outside in the hot sun, then they have and I have every right to. Besides you and our daughters won’t be here to see their beautiful tan bodies that you, God and I created. So get out of my house, and I hope you all get heat stroke. By the way dear husband. I plan on us doing lots and lots of skinny dipping,” returning to her task at hand. My father watching my pants and shirt fly across the room as the door slammed shut; my father ordering my sisters to get in the car, cursing my mother and my brother for our immoral ways having her wave to him with my boxers in her hand.

Mom and my foster parents hated to see me so depressed when they came and visited me when I was learning to how to sleep and work through my PTSD night terrors without drugs. Asking the Doctors why was I so depressed, having to point to some rule of what’s allowed and what’s not allowed when came to their dress code for their live-in patents.  Having to enforce that rule several times with me, have broken it on numerous occasions. Like sneaking outside late at night to go skinny dipping or come to group barefoot or in socked feet or find me naked reading a book or doing homework; screaming that I was always being immodest.

My foster Dad was good when it came to finding loopholes, pointing out that rule didn’t apply when I was inside my room or with them in privacy behind closed doors; stating frankly that they had been rising me and my brothers in a more “carefree lifestyle” environment. They didn’t say as a nudist, it was simply implied. Dad, Mom, my mother, and my grandmother were quite proud of that fact and would be damned if these so-called doctors and nurses change it and wasn’t about to have me revert back the way I used to be.

Always being afraid to be in my own skin; being dressed as an Eskimo year around. Having to fight me to take off all the layers of clothing before taking a bath, or go swimming or die of heatstroke, being fully clothed when going to bed; beginning afraid of being a kid riding my bike in shorts with the hot sun on my bare back going barefoot. Most of all they did not want me to feel embarrassed about the body that God had given me like my father. If it meant me or them being a nudist then so be it. There are worst things to worry about.

The fact they were making me uncomfortable by it and making me feel that I was doing something wrong when I wasn’t upset them. Telling them straight out that they are the ones supposed to be helping me, not enforce a rule that absolutely was ridiculed and make me ashamed to hide myself once more when they themselves have taught me and their family, that being naked was no big deal just a part of life.

Mom and Dad firmly believed in nudism as a close-knit family. They liked the aspects of teaching their children not to be ashamed of their bodies, or view others as sex objects, but to show their love for each other as God had intended it. For me and then we have gone closer spiritually to God and our family and I and them do not find it any way sexual.

I know some people think it is wrong to be this way, but I tell you that I am fine and comfortable with it. I have spoken with Bishop Earl and Bishop Lanwall about it. Having invited my caseworker, my mother, my grandmother as well and most important my foster parents; soon after my mother first found out about it, both of us were concerned that going nude was normal in the Rothwell home when wasn’t allowed in her home. It didn’t help matters that boys going camping with or without their fathers would sometimes go skinny dipping or sunbathe in the nude; confirming the facts when asked about it.

My caseworker brought in a sex psychologist, and my child psychologist that was helping me with my night terrors and my local doctor, which they call a round table discussion. We talked about it by placing all our cards on the table so we could have a real open discussion. Something few parents get when discussing these types of issue with their children when it comes to sexual activity.

My mother was unaware of the trauma she and my father had caused when they discussed the reasons why it was so difficult for me growing up afraid of being seen by anyone including myself, having to fight to get me to remove a single article of clothing. Having everyone complain of my poor hygiene being afraid too even change my clothes, or bathe in a tub of water. And other items I have already mentioned. Mom cried after hearing about it and reading my file. Seeing the bruises and she and my father caused over the years and how long it had taken to get me to where I was.

In the end, everyone was on the same page; having the Rothwell’s continues on with my and their “Carefree Lifestyle,” and my mother was more than happy to encourage it even if my father was repulsed or embarrassed by it. She wasn’t going to let him stop her and refused to be embarrassed by something that made me happy and my life worth living. She wasn’t even slightly embarrassed or angry to learn; that entire Rothwell family skinny dip as a family on numerous occasions. She was just a little shocked that her own son had possibly already seen his first naked woman and wasn’t out of a magazine.

Mom asked if I was fine with that? I nodded and said. “It really wasn’t a big deal as people make it out to be.” Admitting to the fact I and my brothers have spied on them when they thought we were all sleeping inside our tents. Like I said we put all our cards on the table. Grandma smiled and hugged my shoulders said. “Its just life and its beautiful.”

Mom asked both Bishops their opinion having them simply say. “It was better for boys to find out now and grow up with it. Then having them find out about it in a porn magazine, not knowing how to deal with it.” Stating “when that happens, then it becomes a sexual problem, but if they know it’s nothing then other than the facts of life… there is no problem. Just love as a cohesive family, no reason to be ashamed what God has given you,” finding no fault or immoral grounds to be concerned.

My foster parents sighed with relief saying they are planning to discuss this with their family about taking the next step, but have put it off for too long after now learning that we had already seen what they had been putting off until we were older and wanted to avoid boys turning into men to be sexual predators. Hoping to teach their kids a better way of life knowing both sexes as a beautiful thing and would treat it as God meant it to be.

My eyes locked with Bishop Earl and Bishop Lanwall having discussed what Shawn, Danny, Arthur, and their friends had been doing, and it was a big deal. I had a feeling that my foster parents were hoping to not brooch the subject, hoping it wasn’t too late to change their son’s path; most likely why they mentioned it, which stated a long discussion at home regarding this matter. At the time I hoped what I meant what I said to my mother that wasn’t a big deal having seen it the last time we all went skinny dipping.

Ever since that meeting Mom and my Grandmother supported me and the Rothwell’s, Grandma more because she had been with me most of my life and knew the battle that all my foster parents had been fighting when came to me not being afraid to have loving parents care for me as my parents should have. To her I had come a long ways from that frightened child, afraid to take a bath or given a bath by a loving parent, because of the physical and mental abuse of my parents. To her, she was proud of the fact that I was comfortable about being in my own skin. If required a “Carefree Lifestyle” she more than happy support it. After all, there are worst things in the world than being a partial nudist.

So every time they got a chance to visit me they would tickle me and wrestle me out of those layers. Hence the sign on the door “Naked Boy or Boys Inside, Knock First Before Entering. Dad and my brother Shane would make themselves comfortable closing the door and draw straws for the extra bed in the room. It was their fault if they didn’t read the sign before opening the door, finding us living in our “Carefree Lifestyle.” Or the fact Dad reserved the pool just for us so we could skinny dip in private.

It was our lifestyle, if they didn’t like it then the can closes their eyes and the door, but don’t tell us how to live, and don’t you dare change us because you don’t like the rules. We weren’t being immoral or sexually aroused it had nothing to do with it. I was never sexually abused by Dad or Shane, or by my parents. But when came to three bad boys and their friends it was a whole different story, which I will tell when we get there.