My Job

I made it through dinner, dishes and just sitting and watching a little TV with mom and dad.  They seemed as preoccupied as me, so none of us were very demanding of each other.  I finally felt it was okay to excuse myself to do homework and go to bed.  No questions asked and I left them for my room.

Though I was really tired of trying to focus on what others expected of me, and focusing on just paying attention I knew I had to do my homework.  There was some pleasure in completing it.  I always liked my work to be in order, and if things weren't done, I wasn't happy.  So completing my homework gave me that sense of satisfaction.  Even if it did require some struggle to stay on task with it.   The struggle wasn't in the work.  The struggle was in not drifting and wondering.  The struggle was not in just letting myself go following my often wondering and day dreaming nature.

Night, dark, my comfort. The work was done.  The homework, and the work of the day.  It didn't make sense to me that I felt safe in the dark.  It would have made more sense to fear the dark and all of the evils that are synonymous with dark.  Yet comfort is what I felt.  Maybe it was comfort in the softness of the dark, no harshness like there is in the bright of the day.  Whatever the reason, again I found myself relaxing at the window with it cracked open enough for cold, fresh air.  Again I made it to my bed, laying under the unruffled covers, trying to roll the pillow under my aching neck.

Thinking, remembering again and again the smells of him, the noises he made.  Mostly remembering the feeling.  Do you know what it is like to be small, so small?  Because you are small, there is something that traps you, does to you-uses you-because they can.  They are confident in their actions because they control you in your fear.  All the while you grow up and this is the foundation you build your life on, it is with you more than anything.  It is the first think that is there when you sleep, when you wake, when you think.  You can't forget it.  You can't get away from it.  Every place you go, it goes with you.  I lay staring at the ceiling, no desire to sleep.  Everything I think about doing is done so with the thought of what has happened.

My body feels heavy.  As heavy as my thinking.  That must sound strange to others.  How could you understand this?  I didn't feel like what I had, physically, belonged to me.  Sometimes in my thoughts I would feel this incredible urge to run.  Not run away.  The actual act of running.  There was no desire from my body to do so.  Like my mind could not connect with my body, or maybe it was my desires didn't really feel a part of me.  I don't know.  But I thought about running a lot.  Yet I had no physical desire to run.

Again my morning starts with me not knowing if I slept or not.  Or rather, I felt like I had thought the whole night through.  My morning routine I could do without thinking, without a need for decisions.  Thankfully.  But it was Saturday.  A whole day.  Man.  While I stared in my mirror I heard mom coming down the hallway and knock on my door.

"Good morning Nicky".

"Hey mom."   She opened the door and looked at me, I glanced at her with a smile from the mirror.

"Mary called and wants you to call her when you get a chance."

"Okay, thanks."  Mom came in and sat on my already made bed.  I had to make every effort to not cringe when she sat on it.  I went about making sure everything was where it was suppose to be in my room, which was pointless, because everything was always where it was suppose to be.  But I went to great pains to make sure.  Mom just watched for a minute.

"Nicky...everything is clean for heaven's sake."  She laughed but there was no humor in the sound.  I stopped and looked at her.  Really looked, made an effort to focus on her.

"You okay mom?"  I sat on my desk chair to keep me still and try to pay attention.  It looked like she needed it.

"Yes.  I guess.  I'm just bothered by what happened to Curtis."  

For lack of anything better to say "he'll be okay mom" was all I could think of to say.

"I'm sure Marie and Rick will make sure of that.  As best they can.  I sure don't envy them having to decide what to do."

"What are they going to do?"

"I called her last night.  I think they are going ahead and pressing charges.  Curtis isn't happy about it.  But they explained to him their concerns for his friend.  And how many other friends of his might this have happened to.  He didn't like it.  He was pretty emotional but I think he understands the idea of protecting others."

"How's come dad got so mad?"

She looked at me with the 'I don't know how much I'm suppose to tell you'  parent looks.  I just waited her out.  She had to say something.

"It hit close to his heart Nicky.  It's disgusting as it is but when someone you know is hurt that makes it worse."  I assumed she was talking about Curtis.  "I'm sure this isn't something he would tell you, but Doug was molested when he was a child.  That was part of the reason that he came to live with your dad's family.  Your father can't believe what people do to children.  He's always felt he needed to protect Doug."

Protect Doug.  I wonder what dad would feel about him now.  Would he blame what happened to Doug for what Doug does.   Did.  Mom was watching me for some reaction.  I didn't care what happened to Doug.  I didn't know what to say or do.  "I didn't want to tell you that, I didn't know what to say either when your dad told me.  It's just so sad."

Yeah, sad is a word I would use.  "Yeah... I better call Mary mom."  She just sat there and nodded while she thought about feeling sorry for Doug.  

I had to leave the room so I didn't bother using my cell phone.  I went to the kitchen to use the house phone.  I called Mary and made plans to go to her house after I ate.  I probably should stay with mom and dad for just a little bit this morning.  I could hear in her voice that she wanted to talk, and I sure hope it was something about anything other than me.  I didn't really want to talk to anyone, but heaven knows she sure listened to me a lot.  Ah!  She went on that date with Tim last night.  I'll have to ask her first thing so she knows I was thinking about her.  I set myself about to making myself some breakfast, scrambled eggs, toast, I even got myself a cup of coffee.  Mom wandered in and grinned at me while I sat eating.  She down across from me with her own coffee.  

"Where's dad?"

"He went in to work for a little bit.  He's going to see about taking some time off this week.  We were thinking about driving out to Marie and Rick's.  We thought they might be able to use some family support right now." I nodded in reply as I ate.  Did "we" mean all of us? I was afraid to ask, but of course, didn't have to as mom went on.  "We didn't know if you wanted to go or not.  You could stay here and we could see if Doug would come over to the house with you.  Or you could stay at Mary's.  What do you think?"

Hmmmmmmm.  Stay here with Doug, go to Mary's.  Or go to aunt Marie's where all they will talk about is Curtis and what happened to him.  I would rather stay alone but what are the chances of that?

"How long are you going to be gone?"

"If we can we were going to leave tonight or tomorrow.  Come back Wednesday, maybe Thursday."

I tried to look thoughtful.  Like I was contemplating.  "I think I would rather stay at Mary's.  We could work on our papers and school work.  I was going there after I eat.  I'll ask then."

She nodded.  She just didn't seem her happy self, I mean I guess I understand about Curtis and all that.  I concentrated on my eggs and toast.  "Nicky...." pause from her and my stomach suddenly clenched.  "I'd like to ask you something."

"Okay."  I mumbled through my full mouth.

"I really don't know how to ask, but since the other day, I guess none of us are really safe from this kind of thing.  Anyway...have you ever....has anyone...ever..."  she looked at her hands around her coffee mug.  Tell her.  Tell her what happened.  This is what she needs to know.  This is where I open my mouth and tell her.  Her hands were betraying her nervousness, along with her voice and her face.  She couldn't take this.  And how would I tell her 'yes mom, Doug, ever since I can remember'.   And then let her live with that.

"No mom".  I looked her straight in the eyes, because that's what she needed, and what I needed to do for her.  I couldn't tell her.  Besides it was over now, it wasn't going to happen again.   She visibly relaxed.  

"I guess it's kind of late to ask.  I mean, Curtis is ten and it happened to him.  I just needed to ask."

"I know mom.  It's okay."  Would I have answered differently if she had asked ten years ago, or five?  Suddenly I felt like her mother.  I was protecting her from something I should never had to go through.  We had switched roles in that minute.  She would never know it and it was my self appointed job to make sure she never knew.  After I ate I cleaned up my dishes, decided the whole kitchen needed cleaning and made it to Mary's about an hour later.  No one was there but Mary.  So we laid about in the family room with the TV playing music that we didn't pay any attention to.