Chapter Four
Marshall
The doctor released her to go home. They warned us she may be out of it for the rest of the day due to the after-effects of the drug. I thanked them and hated that this conversation had to be postponed any longer. I wanted her 100% sober for this.
She has to realize the trouble not only she’s in but this boyfriend of hers as well. Not to mention the gut-wrenching worry of hearing she was in the hospital after she had been missing for hours. I thanked God she was alright.
She was half asleep from the hospital. My wife's eyes were red-rimmed and exhausted. I could tell she was emotionally shot. I was too but I had to be strong. I had to be strong for Margret, for Mason, and most importantly, for Morgan. Margret called the family that was watching Mikey. I texted Mason we were on our way home.
I hope he was doing ok. I know he hates hospitals. I could tell his anxiety about them was getting higher and higher the more we were there.
Charles and Beth are an older couple from church, lovely people with grandchildren of their own. They’re always happy to watch Mikey. I parked in the garage with a sigh. Margret started walking across the street, going to pick up Mikey from the neighbors.
Mason came down to the garage and helped Morgan up to her room. (She could walk but not very well, swaying and walking into walls.) “You go get something to eat Dad; I’ll get her to her room.” I nodded, too exhausted for words. I needed something to drink. I walked into the kitchen and started to tea kettle.
I got my mug out with an Earl Grey tea bag. My comfort drink. I went in and sat in the living room, waiting for the tea kettle. Everything seemed to settle down all at once. The bank robbery, the man’s horribly familiar face, getting the call Morgan was in the hospital after she had been missing for hours and then finding out she has an abusive boyfriend. I felt numb to everything. At least for now. I knew it would crash down eventually.
I heard my son's footsteps come down the stairs. I looked over and saw my son, looking grimy and dirty from not having a chance to shower, worn around the edges, and wanting to punch something. “You doing ok son?” He let out a breath. “Now that she’s home, yeah.” He rustled with his pocket, showing her cell phone. “I have her cell phone so she doesn't contact anyone until this is all sorted.”
I held my hand out for the cell phone, he handed it over and I put it in my pocket.
Mason sighed. “You doing ok Dad? I know this must have been a rough day for you too.” I shrugged, nodding. “A rough day for everyone. Why don’t you go take a shower? Looks like you face-planted the ground, several times.”
“That’s cause I sorta did.” He chuckled weakly.
“If you guys need me I’ll be upstairs.” I nodded. “Night son.” He waved before going back upstairs. At that moment the tea kettle went off. I nearly jumped and rushed in, turning off the kettle and pouring the water into the mug. I relaxed slightly at the smell of Bergamont flowing through the air. I heard the front door open. Margret was home with Mikey in tow.
Mikey looked sad, walking over to me. I kneeled down to him. “Hey, buddy...” “What’s wrong with Morgan? Mommy says that I’ll understand when I’m older but I’m scared.”
Margret had already walked away, going upstairs. I could tell why she didn't tell Mikey. She just couldn't. She couldn't talk about it without bursting into tears or using colorful words. I grabbed my tea and held his hand, leading him into the living room. “Come ’on, we’ll talk. Mommy is just tired.”
I sat on the couch, bringing Mikey to my knees, holding him protectively. He seemed even more scared. “Is she dying?” He blurted out. I smiled weakly. “No. Nothing like that. She...” How do I explain abuse to a five-and-a-half-year-old? I didn't want him in the black, he should know a little of why she’s so upset and possibly distant now.
“Well son, Morgan has a boyfriend but he’s not very nice, you understand?”
He nodded. “Does that mean she kisses and hugs him like you and Mommy?”
“That’s right but the big difference is that he’s very mean to her, he’s not a good person and he hurt her badly. That’s why she was in the hospital.”
“Why did he hurt her? Aren’t boyfriends and girlfriends supposed to love each other like you and mommy?”
My eyes watered at his innocence. It broke my heart while melting it. “Some people aren’t so nice. Her boyfriend isn't a good person.”
He pouted, and I continued, holding him close. “Morgan doesn’t know that we know about her boyfriend, understand? That means no talking to her about it.”
He nodded. I hugged him close. “Why don’t you get up to bed, it’s late, I’ll be up to read you a bedtime story soon.” He yawned, nodding and scooting off of my lap and going up the stairs. I sighed, drinking my tea. I think if my head hit a pillow I’d be out like a light.
I finished my tea and turned off the lights as I made my way to Mikey's room where he was dressed in pajamas and had a book ready. Guess how much I love you. One of his favorites and he had a lot. He loved to read. I smiled. “Brush your teeth?” He nodded. “Yep! All clean, see?” He opened his mouth wide. I chuckled, sitting on the bed. “I see.”
By the time I finished the book, he was out. I smiled, kissing his head, laying him down carefully as he was snuggled against me then putting his Star Wars covers on him. I turned off his light and closed the door, checking Mason’s room.
He was passed out as well. I closed the door; I went to Morgan’s door and entered quietly. She was asleep as well. I didn't want to accidentally wake her so I walked back out, just glad she was home. I felt her phone vibrate in my pocket as I walked into my room.
My wife was under the covers, curled into a ball of blankets and pajamas. I was too curious, too worried. What if this Brent guy planned to break in here? I had to know. I closed the door, got her phone out of my pocket, and sat on the bed. There were several text messages and five missed phone calls and three voicemails. I know some of those are Masons and our own but what are the others? I swiped my thumb across the screen to open it. There was no password, surprisingly. I went to the texts, seeing the newest one from moments ago.
Don’t think we’re done bitch.
It made my blood boil. I looked at the others.
Where you at? Chad said you were here.
Tell me where you are cunt.
Whore.
This is how you thank me? For picking up the
Pieces of your fucking heart, for taking care of you
When you needed me most. Fucking bitch
You ungrateful cunt.
I wanted to throw the cell phone against the wall but I checked the voice mail. The little voice spoke first. “You have three voice messages. First one.” It was Mason, asking where she was and to call when she got it. The next was Brent
Brent.
That name echoed in my mind. Wishing I could put a face to it. Wishing I could put a knife through him. Wishing he was on my table. The last message was Brent and most of it didn't make sense. He was in such a rage, such a temper tantrum that nothing he said made sense and I got the feeling he was a naturally violent person, possibly a bully in his youth, never got told no.
I pressed the end voice mail, placing the phone on the desk carefully so I didn’t throw it and break all evidence.
My blood was boiling, my hand trembling and my body shaking with no release in sight. I jumped, feeling something touch me, nearly throwing a punch when Margret jumped back as well. “Marshall. It’s just me.”
I breathed out heavily. “Sorry.”
I calmed but I felt my eyes water. Today was just too much. She saw Morgan’s phone on the desk by the bed then looked back to me. “You went through her phone didn't you?” I swallowed my anger down. “I had to. I felt it vibrate on the way up here. What if this guy was planning a break-in? Or worse?” She wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “Shh. I know. It’s ok.”
I held her arms around my shoulders, wanting to cry, to sob, to tear my hands into something, to get rid of this anger. This was the kind of anger I used on my victims. That tiny, animalistic side that never quite came out of the woods. That side enjoys inflicting pain and making blood flow.
I couldn't move, glued to her. She held me close, her hands tangling into my hair. Gently shushing in my ear that everything will be ok. That strength that I had to keep up all day finally broke. Finally crumbled.
A sob escaped me and she only held me tighter as I sobbed like a child into her shoulder. I felt so helpless to help my family, to help my daughter. How long has this been going on? How many bruises did he give her? How many drugs? How many times has he violated her? I wasn't sure how long it was before I finally fell asleep, feeling the safety of Margret’s arms around me. I didn't mind being the small spoon. I fell asleep fast.
1979
Marshall, age four
My mom was great. She got me these toy cars to play with. I didn't really have any toys. Not where we live anyway. We lived in the middle of the woods, a big forest I was never allowed in. My mom says it’s dangerous. I wasn't sure it could be more dangerous than my own house.
The sun was out and it made the forest outside so pretty and colorful. I wish I could go outside. I didn’t want to be here. I heard stomping in the house and knew it was my cousin Beau. He was always angry. He was yelling at mommy. I started picking up my cars so I could get out of his way.
“Beau, he just a baby, he shouldn't be learin about that!”
“Boy’s gotta grow up sometime! What happens when we're gone? Boys gotta eat, gotta hunt, and gotta learn how to put food on the fuckin table!”
I jumped when his voice got louder. I wasn't fast enough to pick up all my toys when he stepped on a car. I jumped back, looking up in fear. He yelled in pain. “Fuckin piece of shit!” He kicked my cars away, hitting the wall. I was already shaking. He liked to hurt things when he was angry. He saw me. I tried to get away but he grabbed me by my arm.
I could hear my mom yelling but I was crying too much to hear her.
“What is all this!? Why am I stepping on your shit!? I know your mom says you’re a big boy but big boys don’t play with toys! They don’t cry like little pussies!” I was thrown to the ground. It hurt but not as much as his punches did.
I curled into a ball, begging him to stop, trying to protect myself from his hits. My mom was crying and yelling. I wished I could run away into the woods.
“Beau! Beau stop! He’s just a baby!” He stopped for a moment, slapping my mom, making her fall into the dirty wall. “Shut up bitch! He wouldn't even be here if you kept your fuckin legs shut!” My mom was so scared, crying against the wall. I wondered where my Uncle Jed was.
Everyone listened to him, he never hurt me and they listened to him. He was never angry. Suddenly Cousin Beau picked me up by my arm, dragging me. I hiccupped when I tried to calm down. The tears wouldn't stop and everything hurt. He dragged me to the basement, throwing me down the stairs. It was so cold. I was never allowed down here and suddenly I’m thrown into it.
I was shaking, looking around. “What?” There was a table, it was old and fridges and freezers were lined along the side of the wall, the other side wall had so many knives. Then I saw Uncle Jed, standing over the table, cutting into a person. Blood was pooling and dripping on the ground from the table. A whimper came from the body.
I swallowed, feeling like I was going to be sick. There was so much blood on the ground, on him. Everything was red. Flowing like water.
He put down his knife, sighing. “Beau, why did you bring him down here? You know the small one isn't old enough to be down here.”
“Fuck being old enough, he’s going to learn sooner or later.” My mom spoke up next. I wanted to run to her but I was too scared to move. “I tried to stop him but you know how Beau’s temper is.”
My Uncle Jed tisked before walking over to me. My Cousin Beau was short and kind of chubby with short arms. My mom was really thin and her clothes never seemed to fit but she was taller than Beau.
My Uncle Jed was tall and thin and his fingers were really long but he was always so calm and nice to me. I jumped when Uncle Jed touched my face; the smell of blood was everywhere now, smeared on my face. He made a face, getting a handkerchief. “Oops. Got some red on you. Shame I have to wipe it away. Red is a lovely color on you.”
Present 2015
I was startled awake from the flashback...or nightmare. I wasn't sure which it was. But I could feel the blood, smell it. I felt like I was covered in it. Suddenly my stomach started to rise and I quickly got to the private bathroom, turning the light on and dry heaving into the toilet.
I wasn't sure how long I had been in there when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I jumped, looking up. “It’s ok, it’s just me.” It was just Margret. I breathed out, running my hand through my hair. “Sorry to wake you.” She frowned, kneeling down with me.
“What was it this time?”
“Nothing in particular. Just a flashback more than a nightmare.”
“They can be just as bad. Want me to make you some tea and we can talk about it?” I nodded. “Yeah, might as well. Not getting back to sleep.”
“It’s five in the morning, might as well stay up.” She stood, holding her hands out to me. I took them, letting her help me up.
We made our way down the stairs. I sat at the kitchen table, Margret soon followed after she turned the tea kettle on. She sat next to me, her hand holding mine, a steadying weight to my nerves. “So what was it this time? Was any of them...touching you?”
I let out a breath, shaking my head. “No. Just...I was playing with the toy cars my mom managed to get for me but I didn't clean up fast enough and my cousin Beau was coming in the room. He stepped on them and he was already mad, stepping on the cars just made him worse. He beat me then my mom tried to stop him and he slapped her.” I hadn't realized I was shaking, my eyes watering.
I continued, swallowing down the growing lump in my throat. Her grip on my hand tightened. “He took me to the basement. Up until this point, I wasn't allowed down there. He nearly threw me down the stairs and Uncle Jed was cutting into a person. He was covered in blood. Didn't even wash his hands before he touched my face.”
My breathing was getting faster. I knew I was going headfirst into a panic attack. Margret held my face, forcing me to focus on her. “Shh breathe...it’s ok.” I followed her instructions, breathing in and out, keeping my focus on her. I calmed, holding my head in my hands as she got up, pouring the tea. Once she came back and sat down I spoke. “Make sure to call the church, and tell them we can’t make it today because of a family emergency. I....” I let out a breath. “I think we should go to Mom's.” Margret nodded. “Sounds like a good idea.”