Two-Sided Story

Chapter 75

Two-Sided Story

When you live in a small town like Santaquin, gossip flies faster than the wind, so sometimes it is hard to tell which is the truth and which side is fiction. My father always tells his side as the truth and my mother tells her side of the same truth, but which side is the public going to believe?  My fathers side: My mother fainted from heatstroke after chasing us boys from running away and my father was planting trees behind the shed and was angry because we boys had broken a window and decided to run away after beating up our mother and when he came home, he found us making our big escape to avoid being punished. My father called the cops to help find his boys and an ambulance for my mother.

My mother side: She fainted from heatstroke and high blood pressure. Telling us to go for help after having tripped and fallen down the back porch steps and when she came home we had been robbed and the robber broke my bedroom window to escape from being caught, beating her up in the process and locked himself in my room and escaped through the broken window; to explain the bruising and the police presence and why she was in the hospital.

No one asked regarding me since everyone knew I was a foster kid and was on a home visit. Aaron and my sisters were easy to explain, noting that most likely they had gone to relatives while my mother was in the hospital. Both are lies, but both could be the truth also, as the story gains momentum through gossip.

Everyone can assume anything they like, but my mother and my father knew what happened and neither one of them was willing, to tell the truth. If only CSI was more than a crime-fighting television show. I can guarantee there was no police tape strung across the house or fingerprints taken or DNA swabs to say they were both lying. Not even my sisters would tell the truth and blamed the whole thing on Aaron and I playing the card that their father was completely innocent adding my mother wasn’t the innocent bystander they think she was and was the main reason the crime was committed in the first place.

Stating the house was unlocked when they came home Sunday afternoon and their father was the concerned parent to why my mother was beaten up and unconscious laying in the backyard seeing her brothers leaving the scene of the crime; which doesn’t explain that it these events didn’t happen on Monday afternoon…. But happened on Sunday when we came home from church; when my father and sisters weren’t supposed to be back until late Monday night… when they asked them about it regarding it.

They simply explained it saying it happened so fast that two days was like a blur. They both said it could have happened on Sunday or maybe it was a Monday the days seem to run together with everything happening so fast.

Not even the statement Officer Kenly or his wife would hold up in court. Even though it was true my father was chasing us and but it to could easily be explained as a concerned angry parent trying discipline his boys for what they had done to his home and his wife, to give a reason why he was pounding the door having his “immoral sissy boys” avoid the consequences.

Nothing would hold up in court even more so after a physical examination of both Aaron and me showing there was not a single unexplainable bruise or cut that would convict either parent. Like I said early on; my father would once again get off Scot-free.

Everyone knew they were both having marital issues, so fighting like yelling and screaming at each other meant absolutely nothing.  My sisters were returned to my father, but my mother had already given her consent for Aaron to be with me under the Rothwell’s care while they both seek help. Signed and dated by my caseworker and her and notarized. My father didn’t push it and was very content not having either of us home; to him it was a win, win situation.

Stated firmly in writing that he would prefer we never stepped another foot in his home and would be more than happy to sign any document to put Aaron into the system for the rest of his life, but that wasn’t going to happen without my mothers signature. Warning him if even tried to do it she would come clean on everything that happened, every beating, every fight, every plan he and she made, otherwise blackmail.

My mother told me over the phone she now knows how I feel when people stare at you naked like a side of beef taking pictures of your exposed skin and prodding their fingers up and down parts of her body. Telling me she loved us both, but it would be sometime before she would be able to come up to see us.

I knew right away that it had to do with my father. It was simply implied but not said openly. Grandma had already called wanting the details after the air had cleared some. Telling us she was sorry that they had come home before us, but my father flipped out and grew quite angry when Darralds kids went swimming and were running through camp barefoot and in nothing but swim trunks and shorts; demanding that they take them home right now, if they were going be so immoral in front of him and his daughters.

I didn’t have to guess from there how my father found out us going barefoot in church that Sunday, considering how fast gossip flies in Santaquin, nothing stays a secret for long. Mom had already told him ahead of time that we would be doing lots of skinny dipping. The fact we came home smelling of wood smoke and the lake, wearing nothing more than a pair of swim trunks said it all. Mom of course was dressed in a pair of summer shorts and a low v-neck tank top with her shoes in her hand when we walked in the door finding them home.

It explained a lot that he and my sisters were home to ambush us and my father and them had intended to kill us and bury our bodies out back and blame my mother for the disappearance and the murders; which would have given him full custody of his daughter in one single sweep of a shovel, giving him an airtight alibi. Making it look like she had gone crazy while they were camping with relatives, making him look like a grieving father when he came home finding it.

It explained the missing tranquilizers, it explained the destruction of property, and it explained the pre-dug graves that would be uncovered months later after he had replaced the firewood and our disappearance, both us being known as runaways. The fact that I had learned to fight and protect my self would have explained my mother’s injuries and making her unfit mother and send her to prison for the rest of her life or a mental institution. The only problem was the fact that it didn’t go according to plan, having us escape before he could tranquilize all three of us.

I know without a doubt that he would cover his tracks, and there would always be a next time. When I hung up the phone I was angry, I told Dad I was going out for a run. He didn’t say I couldn’t he simply let me. He wasn’t worried I would run off not without my brother watching me run laps in my boxers. He took a seat in the dining room and opened his newspaper; sending Aaron out to play with Jared and Jason on the trampoline. I knew I was being watched and I didn’t care. Dad had mine and Aaron's back there was no way he would let the three bad boys near him as he watched them, slave, away chained to a cinder-block in the garden.

Running laps did two things, it released the pent-up energy and gave me time to think and I did have a lot to think about. By the tenth lap I had made my decision and I knew Mom and Dad would support me. I cooled off with a hose letting the cold water drench my skin. Dad handed me a towel patted a seat next to him on the step of the back door; after I had taken a few breaths after running. He said. “I guess you know that far as we are concerned home-visits are no longer on the table. If your mother wants to see you and your brother she will have to come here and do it.”

I nodded and said. “I agree with that, considering my father meant to kill us and hang my mother out to dry.”

He nodded and began to leave, but I wasn’t through yet. I quickly took his hand and brought him back down. I could see it in his eyes that he knew what I was going to ask him. I said. “Dad, I wasn’t prepared to fight him off, and it scared me. You told me maybe next year I could pick up where I left off, but next year could be too late. What happens if my father finds a way to come here by tricking my mother into believing that he has changed? Only too try to kill us right in front of her. I need to get stronger; I need to learn to fight again.

“What I am saying is I want to train and take the next step. I am not in it for the trophies or the glory of a single ribbon. I want to be able to protect my brother and my mother. This time I intend to win and not run away, always looking over my shoulder. Please, Dad, I want my monitor back, and I want my old life back. Last time I barely made it to safety, next time I won’t be so lucky.”

The silence was killing me as I waited for my answer, fearing he would say “no” the longer I waited. He didn’t say yes and he didn’t say no, he just sat there looking out into the distances. I watched his eyes because his face didn’t show me what he was thinking. When they finally locked on mine, he nodded said “I’ll make some phone calls, but I don’t think Mom’s going to like it. She never did like the idea of you fighting.

“Gymnastics and swimming is one thing, but fighting in a ring where you can get hurt is a whole different matter. Now go inside and help your mother and sister with dinner, but don’t go in there with your wet boxers. You know how she hates it when you boys track mud and dirt on her floor. I would suggest you take a shower because you smell like horse manure.” He gave me a quick hug and told me he loved me. I said I loved him too.

I took off my boxers and hung them on the fence to dry and washed my feet and legs. Aaron and my brothers smiled seeing me standing naked in the sun like them. I smiled back and went into the house telling Mom I was climbing in the shower she asked to see my feet before I walked into the house. When she was satisfied she told me to scrub myself really good. When I was done I helped Mom and Jody in the kitchen. Dad was busy making the three bad boy run laps hoping in time it would break them and tell us where they had hidden the tranquilizer, but the more he pushed the more they clammed up, but it didn’t stop him and Mom from trying.