Jude Adams Foster – The Rest of the Story
Chapter 1: Jim Pearson
It was about 7:00 at night when my foster father, Jim Pearson, told me and my sister Callie that he would be going out and not be back until late. We both responded with a simple "okay". Neither of us were too fond of our foster father. It was difficult to be fond of someone when they seemed like they couldn't care any less about you. Especially when you have already been in five other foster homes with four other families that treated you the same way.
Callie and I were never treated fairly. It was clear that the families who fostered us only did it for the money. We had one good home for about a year, but there were too many complications. We stayed with the Olmsteads, who were the only people who really seemed to care about us at all. There were two parents and their son, Liam. They were so nice to Callie and me for so long. But things got complicated. Callie and Liam started to have feelings for each other. They knew that that wasn't allowed. Callie tried to back off the best she could, but Liam wouldn't. Liam got so angry at Callie that he wouldn't quit pursuing her. One night, I was woken up by the sound of moaning and whining. It sounded like Callie, and I didn't know what was going on. All of a sudden, I heard Callie yell "Get off!" I rushed out of bed and into the room that Callie and Liam shared. When I opened the door, I saw the worst sight of my life. My sister's naked body was trapped under the naked body of my foster brother, my sister kicking and crying. She was being raped. When Liam saw me, he immediately got off, put his clothes back on, and came after me. I went to get Liam's parents, and let's just say that they didn't appreciate me waking them up in the middle of the night. Callie and I were both in tears. We explained to Liam's parents what happened the next day, but they didn't believe us. They believed Liam's story that Callie pursued him, and that she wouldn't leave him alone. It all resulted in us being kicked out of the home and being sent to another home with people who didn't treat us well at all. That had been the past five years of my life so far. Ever since our mom died, it was just one bad foster home after another.
As Jim Pearson left out the door, he recited a list of chores that he wanted Callie and me to finish before he got home. We were already in the middle of doing them.
After he left, Callie and I finished our chores in about an hour and a half. We had always been fast workers. We had to be, since all of our guardians had always expected so much of us.
Once I finished the dishes, I didn't know what to do. Mr. Pearson wasn't home yet, and Callie and I very rarely had any down time. "Do you want to watch TV?" I asked Callie.
"It would probably be better if we didn't," she responded.
She was right. If we turned on the wrong channel, Mr. Pearson would see it later and chastise us for it. The problem is that he never really set any clear boundaries. He would just reprimand us when we did something he perceived to be wrong.
Since we couldn't turn on the TV without fear of being yelled at when our foster dad got home, I asked Callie what she wanted to do. She told me that she had homework. Since she was placed in this home in her sophomore year of high school, she had a lot she needed to catch up on.
I was bored since I couldn't talk to Callie, I couldn't turn on the TV, and I had no more chores to complete. I decided to look around the house. I wanted to learn more about Mr. Pearson. He was never open about anything, and he never told us about himself. The only thing I knew was that he was married at one point to a woman. I had no idea what the woman's name was or why they were divorced. By looking around, I had hoped to learn something.
The first place that I went was into Mr. Pearson's room. It was odd. He had a lot of pictures of him and a woman that I assumed to be his ex-wife. It seemed like he was very hung up on this woman. I looked around his room even more, and it seemed that he had kept a lot of his ex-wife's belongings. Did she just give them up?
I was able to catch a glimpse into the closet. Something caught my attention. A long, flowing royal blue dress on a hanger caught my eye. I had never seen anything so beautiful.
I had always had what I though was an odd desire. I had always wanted to try on a piece of women's clothing, just to see how it felt. I knew it was softer, but what would that fabric feel like up against my body? How would it feel to have one garment that covered everything?
Of course, I never got the opportunity to try on something like that. I had expressed that desire to my first foster parents, and they immediately reprimanded me for it and told me that I am a boy and that it is wrong for boys to wear women's clothing. I had always secretly had that desire, but I never told any of my other foster parents, out of fear that they would reprimand me the same way the first ones did. That is another thing I hated about the foster system. I was never allowed to be myself. If I wasn't exactly who they wanted me to be, they would want absolutely nothing to do with me. I was only six years old when I went into the foster system, but I was always bothered by the fact that I was never allowed to say how I felt.
Now, I had the opportunity. I had the opportunity to try on this beautiful royal blue dress. I took it down and off of the hanger. I undressed so that I could get the full experience of the dress. I put the dress on. I loved it and hated it at the same time.
I hated the way the dress felt. It felt much too revealing, as I felt a breeze up between my legs that resulted from not wearing any pants. The fabric was soft, but it was too soft. But I loved that I was finally getting to try something that I wanted to try. For the past five years, I had hated the fact that I could never express myself or do anything in reaction to how I felt. I finally felt free. I kept it on because when I put this dress on, I finally felt like I was able to be myself without anyone judging me or stopping me.
Until I heard the door open.
"Did Jude do all of the dishes?" I heard Mr. Pearson asking Callie.
Crap. He was home earlier than I expected.
"Yes," I heard Callie say. "I thought you wouldn't be home until later."
"What? Do you hate me or something?" Mr. Pearson asked with a snarky tone. "I had a meeting and it ended early."
My foster dad was home. I was standing in his room. Wearing a dress. What would he think of this? I was paralyzed with fear of what was about to happen.
"Where is that boy, anyway?"
"I think he went to look around," Callie said hesitantly.
He yelled for me. I was so stunned that I didn't move. I didn't even take off the dress and put my other clothes back on. Suddenly, I saw the doorknob turn. The door opened, and he stared at me, rage slowly sweeping over his face.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" he screamed. "WHAT ARE YOU? SOME KIND OF FAG?"
I was so frightened that I didn't even notice the tears starting to roll down my cheeks. I didn't even know what that word meant, but I could tell it was an insult. All I could see was the anger on Mr. Pearson's face and the worried expression on Callie's face, who was standing behind Mr. Pearson because the event had caught her attention.
"I'VE HAD IT WITH YOU, YOU LITTLE TWERP!" yelled Mr. Pearson. And before I knew it, his fist was flying toward my face with lightning speed.
Every blow hurt more and more. I started screaming
"SHUT UP!" he shouted at me. "YOU KNOW YOU DESERVE THIS!"
He kept beating me up, and I noticed that Callie had disappeared. Why wasn't she helping me? We've been through so much, and she just walks out when I am receiving the worst beating of my life?
All of a sudden, I hear something smashing, and I hear a car alarm go off. Mr. Pearson's car alarm.
"What the hell?" Mr. Pearson got distracted and lowered his voice. "Don't go anywhere until you are out of that goddamn dress, do you understand me?"
I gave him a slight nod. As soon as he left, I quickly changed back into my old clothes, and I followed him outside to see what was going on. I was shocked at the sight of my sister smashing Mr. Pearson's car with a baseball bat.
"HEY!" Mr. Pearson raised his voice again. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, YOU STUPID BITCH?!"
"GET AWAY FROM MY LITTLE BROTHER!" Callie yelled back.
I immediately stepped away from Jim Pearson so that I could please Callie. Mr. Pearson stepped inside, and in ten minutes, police sirens sounded. I knew exactly what was going to happen, and I was right.
The police put handcuffs on Callie. She tried to argue and tell her story, but it didn't work. She was being taken to juvie. And with that, Mr. Pearson sent me to bed immediately. I was relieved that the beating was over, but horrified that my sister, who I had shared everything with for my whole life, was being taken away from me. She was the only person with whom I ever truly connected. She was the only person present throughout all of my life. What was I going to do without her?
The next few months were the most miserable of my life. I was stuck with Jim Pearson, who would never be allowed to foster Callie again. I was separated from my sister and stuck with a man who never cared about me to begin with. It all went by in a blur. Nothing significant happened. But it was still the worst few months of my life.
About four months after Callie was arrested and found guilty of destruction of property, I got a phone call from some landline that I didn't recognize. Mr. Pearson was in the bathroom at the time, so I answered.
"Hello?" I responded.
"Hey baby, it's me." I was shocked. I had waited so long to hear that voice again. It was Callie. I couldn't believe it. I started tearing up.
"Callie?!" I responded excitedly, but softly.
"Yeah. I-I'm out, and I'm coming. I promised you. I just – I've gotta figure out how to get there." It's true. She promised me as the police were taking her out of the courtroom that she would come get me when she was released from juvie.
She sounded so broken. What happened to her? I hated hearing my sister like this.
"Please hurry." I pleaded.
"I'll try." Callie responded
We hung up. We had a mutual understanding that I would get caught, and neither of us wanted to risk that.
For the next couple of days, I eagerly awaited Callie's arrival. I said nothing to Jim Pearson about it.
One evening, I was doing the dishes, and I heard a knock on the door. Jim Pearson walked by me and harshly asked why I wasn't getting it. He got the door himself. It was some teenage guy I didn't recognize asking for directions. Jim Pearson gave him some directions but was then distracted by something.
"HEY! What the hell are you doing?" I heard him say angrily.
"I just want to talk to Jude for one minute!" It was Callie. That got into an argument. She was here. She came back for me. I was so scared that I couldn't make out anything they were saying after that. They were just yelling at each other. He started shaking Callie, and the guy asking for directions came to her defense.
"Hey, don't touch her!" the teenage guy intervened.
"Shut up!" responded Jim Pearson.
Before I knew it, Jim Pearson pulled a gun out on the guy.
I was covering my ears the whole time. I was so frightened. The three of them were still yelling at each other until a woman with blonde hair wearing a cop uniform came in and pulled a gun out on Jim Pearson. He got down on his knees and surrendered, and another cop, this time a man, yelled at Jim Pearson to put his gun down.
While all of this was happening, Callie rushed over and hugged me. I was so relieved to have her back again. She was like my mother. Since I was six years old, she had been taking care of me in a way that no one else could. She was the only person that was always by my side because she was the only person that was with me for more than a year at a time.
I noticed the two police officers putting handcuffs on Jim Pearson. They arrested him. Callie held me in her arms and asked if I was okay. I said I was. I had her again. All that mattered in that moment was that Jim Pearson got what he deserved and my sister and I were reunited.
After they were done with the arrest, the blonde female cop escorted me back out to her car. She would be taking me home.
She and another woman got in. I don't know what relation they had to each other, but it must have been something important enough for the other woman to come down here.
The teenage boy got in the car next to me, and I realized that he must be the blonde woman's son. Callie got in next to me.
The car ride to their house was long and quiet. They took us all the way up to their house in San Diego. When we got there, there was a boy and a girl standing outside. They all hugged each other as if they were all worried that something was going to happen to one another.
Then I realized that they were a family. This family was being raised by two women. I was being taken in by two women that had been raising a family for what seemed like a long time based on the ages of the kids.
The two women showed me where I would be sleeping that night, and I went straight to bed. I was not in the mood to talk or introduce myself. That could all be done in the morning. At that point, I was just tired, and I wanted to push out of my mind everything that had happened that night.
Little did I know that my life was about to change forever.