Thanks again to Roadrunner
The Way It Was Chapter 10
The long night was finally over. Frankie found himself practically lying on top of his little brother, who was shoved up against the wall, wound up in the covers and sleeping fitfully, occasionally whimpering in his sleep. His hand had throbbed and hurt all night long. Frankie moved off Bobby and stared. Was Bobby crying? How could he cry in his sleep?
"Bobby! Wake up!" He shook Bobby's shoulder hard. "Wake up!"
Bobby sat up slowly and tried pushing his tousled curls out of his eyes before he became aware again of how badly his hand still hurt. He had been crying in his sleep. Next he tried rubbing his eyes, surprised to find his eyes wet. He was bewildered.
"Baby!" Frankie mocked him, pushing him back down, and straddling him.
"No I'm not!" Bobby defended himself.
"Yes you are! You're a crybaby! You even cry when you're sleeping!"
"Don't, neither!" Bobby retorted, although he was confused by his own tears. "Lem…me…up!" he gasped, struggling beneath his brother. For now, Frankie was still a lot bigger than him, and never hesitated to let him know it. He refused to let him up.
"Daddy's gonna beat your ass, bad," Frankie sneered.
Bobby sobered at this and stopped his struggling. He wasn't sure why he was in for an ass beating, but he didn't doubt it.
Finally, satisfied that he had sufficiently scared him, he got off his brother and Bobby could breathe again. Frankie left to go downstairs. Bobby got up and followed, but then, noticing his parents' room, stopped at their door. Cautiously he entered the room and looked around. It was so empty and seemed cold and unwelcoming.
No Mommy. No Daddy. He was distressed. He was just a little guy and couldn't comprehend why they had left him for so long. He'd been on his own before, many times, but never overnight. Especially after the terror of last night, when there really had been no one to protect him, he wondered if they ever would come back. It was Bobby's first taste of abandonment. And it didn't taste very good.
XXX
Downstairs Frankie had made himself a bowl of cereal. Bobby came down, and sitting in a chair he watched for a moment as Frankie ate. Then Bobby noticed something on the cereal box and took it, holding it sideways, reaching his uninjured hand inside and pouring out a wrapped prize and also half the cereal.
"Look, Frankie, a de…de…coder ring!" Bobby said excitedly, picking it up.
Frankie snatched it out of his hand. "It's mine! Daddy said I get all the prizes, 'cause I'm the biggest."
That seemed to be the way it went the majority of the time, so Bobby didn't even argue, just glared at his brother.
XXX
Later the boys settled into the living room watching cartoons. Frankie had seemed a little out of sorts all morning, due to all the events of last night. At last he spoke to Bobby. "Daddy really is going to beat your ass."
Bobby turned to Frankie, any semblance of a smile long gone. "No he's not," Bobby protested, almost in a whisper.
"Yes he is, 'cause you gave all his money to the wolfman!"
"But he don't got no money…"
"You're still gonna get it. Baby."
Just the thought of his dad whipping him put the fear of God in him. He went back to the safety of his room and crawled under his bed, thinking. Bobby had taken to lying under his bed when he felt scared. It provided a bit of protection, temporarily, when he was in trouble. For a four year old, he had way too many worries. After a while he got back out and got out his toy soldier men. He sat on the floor, crashing his army men together to make them fight, and forgot about his troubles for a bit. He thought when he grew up maybe he would be an army man.
Bobby finally tired of playing army men and decided to go outside, not knowing where he was going, just going. The sky was still overcast, making for a very gloomy day. Bobby was too young to pay much attention to the weather, until it directly affected him. But today he noticed. He wondered if it would rain again… be dark again…and maybe the wolfman would come back. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. He continued walking, and soon found himself in a shopping area. He just stood there and watched all the people. No one paid any attention to him.
Meanwhile, at home, Frankie had decided he'd better follow after Bobby, thinking it might just be in his best interest to do that. Especially since he'd promised his mother. A few minutes later Frankie bounded up to him. "Wow, Bobby, you're fast!" Bobby appeared not to not notice him as he continued to people-watch.
"What'cha looking at?" Frankie continued. Following Bobby's gaze he saw a shabbily dressed old man on a corner, asking passer-bys for money. Most ignored him, pretending not to even notice him, while some grudgingly coughed up a dollar or some change. And some were just plain disgusted by him.
Remembering a line from his prayers, Bobby asked, "Is he the poor soul from 'perkatory'? And is he waiting for 'murphy'?" Bobby had no idea what that meant, but somehow the shabbily dressed old man seemed like he could be someone from "perkatory."
"It's purgatory, stupid," Frankie corrected him. He had just made his First Holy Communion and knew all about heaven, hell and purgatory. "And they wait for mercy, not murphy." Frankie watched the man too. "But I think he's just waiting for money."
Bobby continued to watch the old man. "I wanna give him some money, too." He'd never seen anyone like that raggedy old man, and he was fascinated.
"Well, we can't, 'cause you gave all the money to the wolfman."
"Well, then, why can't people give us money?" Bobby asked.
"Because—" Bobby had suddenly given him an idea. He grabbed Bobby by the arm and dragged him to the corner. "Sit down," he told him, indicating the dirty city curb. After Bobby sat Frankie gave him his next instructions. "Now cry."
Bobby looked up at him, confused. "Why?"
"Cause if they see a little kid crying they'll give you money to shut you up."
Bobby grinned. "Okay!" And he started fake crying. "Waahh…"
Bobby's impersonation of a crying child apparently wasn't good enough for Frankie, so he tried to make it real. He punched Bobby as hard as he could, a knuckle punch he had learned from some older kids. But instead of making him cry, it made him mad. And he punched Frankie back and Frankie decided Bobby's fake crying was good enough.
A woman was approaching, and Frankie whispered, "Bobby, cry." He needn't have worried; Bobby kept it up pretty good. When the woman reached them, she saw two dirty little boys, the little one sobbing. "Honey, what's wrong?" she asked, kneeling down next to him.
"He lost the milk money," Frankie said. "Mommy gave us money to buy milk, and he lost it. He's gonna be in big trouble." Frankie looked at his brother very solemly.
"And Daddy's gonna beat my ass!" Bobby piped up, peeking out from between his fingers pathetically.
"What?" The woman was shocked, not used to hearing such language from a young child.
"Yeah, Daddy's gonna beat his ass good," Frankie concurred.
The woman stared for a moment, still a little in shock about the language and the possibility of physical harm coming to the little boy. His hand was apparently already injured…was that the result of something his father had done? She knew she couldn't do anything about that, but maybe giving him a little change would help his current situation. "Well, how much money do you need, honey?" she asked, opening her change purse.
"A dollar!" Frankie said. The woman frowned at him, feeling a little extorted, but ended up giving him the dollar. Frankie shoved it into his pocket. After the woman left, Frankie knelt down next to Bobby and patted his head like a dog. "Good boy!"
Bobby smiled in response, but Frankie said, "Keep crying. Here comes somebody else."
It was a man who just gave them a dirty look and went on. Next came a young teenage couple. The guy was on to them immediately, but the girl felt sorry for them. "Aren't they cute?" she exclaimed. "Tony, give them some money," she urged him. Eager to impress his new girlfriend, he gave each of them two dollars. He winked at them as they left, causing both boys to grin. Frankie was starting to think this was a good deal; they could do this every time they needed money. This went on for a little longer until someone alerted a local beat cop. Seeing the cop, Frankie grabbed Bobby and ran.
The boys quickly lost the cop, mixing in with the crowd, and just ended up on another corner, where they had more good luck. Between them they now had 19. Frankie had no idea how much money they needed to replace their dad's stash, but 19 seemed like a huge amount to him.
Everything seemed to be going really well, until Lewis and his mother rounded the corner across the street. Lewis had a double scoop ice cream cone. Then he spotted them. "Hi, Bobby!" he yelled, and started tugging on his mother's coat, pointing to Bobby and trying to get her to go to him.
Bobby also spotted Lewis. Frankie decided this was not a good thing. "C'mon, Bobby, we gotta go!" He pulled Bobby by his arm, but Bobby jerked away. He was torn between leaving with Frankie, and seeing his friend Lewis again. In the end, Lewis won.
Lewis' mother stared at them. Bobby and his brother Frankie…were they? No, they couldn't be…oh my God, they were! Bobby and his brother were begging! For money! And so far from home! In a split second all kinds of things ran through her head. Mostly she pictured a four-year-old running into a busy street and being hit by a car or bus. Then she imagined a man picking both boys up and disappearing with them, doing God-knows-what to them. Neither was a pleasant thought.
About this time Frankie smartly decided to take off.
Mrs. Renelle and Lewis hurried over, Lewis losing the scoops of ice cream off his cone as his mother pulled him quickly along. He tried to stop and pick it up, but his mother really didn't notice, continuing to drag him. Finally getting to Bobby she knelt down in front of him.
"Bobby! What are you doing?!"
Bobby looked surprised. "Nothin." He had no idea what she was talking about.
"Where is your mother?! What are you doing this far from home?!"
"Workin," Bobby said.
"What do you mean, working?"
Bobby looked at her like she should know all this. "I gaved all my Dad's money to the wolfman. And now Daddy's gonna beat my ass."
Mrs. Renelle stood up, taking a deep breath. The wolfman? What wolfman? Bobby is lying to me? And that language! "Bobby, you watch your mouth, little boy. And are you lying to me?"
Bobby shook his dark curly head. "Uh uh," he said. "The wolfman camed to my house last night and I gaved him all my Dad's money. And he made me ba-sketti!"
Mrs. Renelle was starting to get a little angry, a little with Bobby's lying, a little with his language, but mostly at Bobby's family. How could they allow a four-year-old uptown by himself? Didn't they care one bit what happened to this child? She knelt down in front of him, taking him by the shoulders. "Bobby! You tell me the truth! You know there is no such thing as a wolfman!"
Bobby looked her in the eyes. "Uh huh! There is too! He camed to my house!"
She had never heard such blatant lying, and right to her face. Unfortunately she allowed the anger that she now had at his family to come down on him. "Bobby, you tell me the truth right now!" And she shook him.
Immediately Bobby's mind flashed back to a few months ago, when his father had shaken him, hard. He was sitting on the floor in the living room, while his dad lay on the couch drinking another beer. Both were watching the Yankees on tv. The Yankees were losing bad, and Frank was in a foul mood. He tossed his empty beer can with all the others on the floor next to him, figuring eventually someone would clean it up.
"Son of a bitch! Fucking Yankees!" he said as another runner scored for the Reds, thanks to another Yankee error. "Bobby! Get me a god-damn beer! And make it quick!" Frank didn't like to go too long without a beer in his hands. Bobby hurriedly got to his feet and ran into the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out another beer. He was used to being a beer runner for his dad. Remembering his dad's order to make it quick, he ran back as fast as he could and handed it to him; Frank took it without so much as even looking at his son, let alone a thank you. As he pulled the tab up, beer shot everywhere—all over Frank, all over the couch, and as Frank sat up quickly, all over the floor. Bobby watched in horror, knowing this was not good.
His father came roaring off the couch, right for Bobby, who stood frozen. He grabbed the little boy tightly by the shoulders, tight enough to really hurt, and shook him hard. "Did you shake this again, you little bastard?" He continued shaking him. "Did ya shake it? How many times do I have to tell you—YOU DON'T SHAKE THE FREAKING BEER!!" Bobby at first had tried to deny shaking it (he didn't realize he had, by running with it) but soon couldn't think. His head felt like it was coming off, and his neck and shoulders hurt. There was no telling what would have happened if Frances had not heard Frank screaming at their four-year-old and came in.
"Frank! Stop it!" Seeing the violence Frank was perpetrating on their son she yanked Bobby away from his father, one of the few times she protected him. "Just stop it!"
Frank looked at her disgustedly, grabbed his keys, and left. Bobby was confused, and still couldn't think. It took a while before he could think clearly again. He developed a bad headache, a muscle in his neck was pulled, and his shoulders were bruised for a week. It was a terrifying experience for him.
Lewis' mom hadn't shaken him nearly as bad as his father did, but it had the same effect, emotionally. Bobby completely shut down. He refused to look at her or to speak, just stood there looking at the littered sidewalk.
Lewis was surprised. "Ma? Why you being mean to Bobby?"
Mrs. Renelle suddenly felt horrible. She rarely ever laid a hand on Lewis, and then it was just a swat on the butt. And she had shook Bobby, a sweet little boy who was not even her own child, all because she was upset with his family's total lack of concern for him.
"Bobby, honey, I'm sorry…" It was like speaking to a wall. Bobby gave no indication of having even heard her. "Bobby…please…?" Bobby continued to stare at the ground, like a statue, not moving and hardly even breathing. Mrs. Renelle got scared. "Bobby!"
Still he wouldn't move. His eyes were shut and he was blocking her out. He tried to make himself invisible. Sometimes he did this when his father was angry with him. Unfortunately it usually had just the opposite effect he was hoping for and just served to make his father even angrier, but Bobby still felt safer that way.
Finally Mrs.Renelle picked him up, for the first time noticing his bandaged hand, which now was quite dirty. Oh my God! What now? she wondered. She tried getting him into the car, but he had made himself stiff and unyielding, making it difficult. Lewis sat next to him, totally confused. He kept trying to talk to Bobby but Bobby wasn't talking back.
She tried to get him to open up again, to try to break through the seemingly awake-yet-unconscious state he was in. He almost appeared catatonic, but surely...he wasn't… "Bobby?! Please talk to me…what happened to your hand, sweetie?" Her words fell on deaf ears, as Bobby stared straight ahead, apparently at nothing, and his breathing was so slow she could barely see his chest move. She worried about this child.
On the drive to the Goren home Mrs. Renelle seriously wondered about Bobby. He made up that story about a wolfman…and that time he said his daddy hurts him...did he make that up, too? And now an "ass beating"? His mother said Bobby had quite the imagination and frequently made things up. She knew his father had been drunk the first time she had met him, and wasn't very nice. But that didn't necessarily mean he beat his kids. Now she didn't know what to believe. They were kind of a strange family.
Lewis was really in the dark. "Ma?" he started. "Why are you mad at Bobby?"
"I'm not, Lewis. I'm just…I don't know. Frustrated, maybe."
That didn't help Lewis at all. "Bobby thinks you are."
"I know. Bobby, honey, I promise you I'm not mad at you. And I'm sorry I shook you. Are you still mad at me?"
Bobby wouldn't talk, just continued to stare.
"He is, Ma." Lewis said, taking it upon himself to be Bobby's spokesperson.
Mrs. Renelle sighed. She hated that she had alienated Bobby, and truly regretted what she had done. "I'm just going to take you home now, Bobby. To your mother."
Soon they pulled up to the Goren home. Mrs. Renelle got Bobby out of the car, took his hand, and walked him to the door, with Lewis tagging along. She knocked on the door. For a while it seemed that no one was going to answer. At last the door was jerked open by Frankie, who stood there defiantly.
"Um, Frankie, can I speak to your mother please?"
Frankie didn't say anything for a moment, then said, "Mommy's sleeping." It was as good an excuse as any. Many times their mother slept during the day, leaving them on their own.
"Well, can you wake her up, please? I'd like to talk to her."
For a moment Frankie didn't know what to say. A moment later he came up with something. "She's sick. She said not to wake her up."
Mrs. Renelle looked at him incredulously. "Does she know that you and Bobby were uptown? And that after you left, he was alone?" Before she even realized it, Bobby had gotten loose from her and was in the house.
"Yes," Frankie lied. She didn't know whether to believe him or not. Once again she wondered if these children ever told the truth. She had no idea of what to believe anymore.
"And your father?" Just the mere thought of confronting him sent a little shiver of fear up her spine. Frank Goren could be very intimidating.
"Daddy's at the track…somewhere…"
She shook her head in disbelief. "May I come in?" she asked.
"Ma says not to let strangers in the house." With that he slammed the door, nearly hitting Lewis, leaving Lewis and his mother on the stoop. Mrs. Renelle stood there for a moment, then grabbed Lewis' hand and went back to her car, angry again. She had no idea what to make of the Goren family. What went on in that house? Unfortunately, whatever it was, there really wasn't anything she could do about it. Whatever went on behind those closed doors would likely stay there. All she could do was try to be there for Bobby if he needed her. If Bobby ever forgave her. She was filled again with self loathing for what she had done, and could only hope that soon he would trust her again.
tbc
A/N Nowadays there would no doubt be some kind of intervention if children were neglected or abused. However I believe in those days most people did not interfere with what went on in other people's families, really believing that whatever went on behind closed doors was not their business.
Sometimes I bring to this story events from my own childhood, such as the one where Frankie "taught" Bobby to cross the busy street. My brother actually did that with me. And according to my mother, the first time I saw nuns in church (at 3 or 4 years old) I asked very loudly if the nuns were the poor souls from "perkatory" and if they were waiting for "murphy." I just thought a little Catholic boy like Bobby might wonder about some of these things, too. And that sometimes these things really happen.
Thanks to everyone for your reviews!