1985 - The Bad Day
The boy was well behaved, for the most part, but some days, he had Pamela tearing her hair out.
On a rainy Thursday afternoon, when he was just under six years old, he was supposed to be working on homework under her supervision, but he was absolutely driving her crazy. He fidgeted and procrastinated, he whined and talked back, and every time she called him out on it, he acted as though she was the monster for expecting him to write out a two-sentence assignment.
Normally, when the boy's behavior became too much for a few minutes in the corner to correct, she brought him down to his mother, who would set him straight. Lillian was out for the day, though, so for the first time, she brought him down to his father instead.
The boy's face turned pale when she told him where they were going. She didn't think anything of it. She assumed his father was stricter, but in her mind, that meant a longer scolding, or two nights without dessert instead of one, or a firmer pat on the backside than his mother would give.
They found Lionel at his desk in his study, and Pamela laid out the misdeeds of the day.
Lionel listened carefully throughout Pamela's speech. Then he raised his eyebrows, looked down at Alexander, and asked, "Is it true?"
Alexander shrugged, then he nodded.
Lionel's hand coiled back and then flew, connecting with Alexander's little face.
The child flinched, and tears ran down his cheeks, but other than a yelp when the blow landed, he didn't make much noise.
Pamela's blood ran cold. It might have been the first time she'd seen it happen, but clearly it wasn't the first time for Alexander.
Lionel gave a short, sharp lecture about behavior that was appropriate for a young man. Alexander kept his eyes on his father, never even bringing his hand to his face. When the lecture was over, Lionel looked up at Pamela.
"Take him away," he said, and he turned back to his work without another word.
Pamela reached out for the child, who placed his tiny hand in hers, and she walked him up the stairs. His quiet sobbing grew louder as they left Lionel's range of hearing, until she finally picked him up and cradled him in her arms for the rest of the walk up to his room.
She set him down to stand beside his bed and went over to his bathroom, then she picked up a washcloth and ran it under cold water. She came over to sit on the side of his bed.
"That'll make it stop hurting," he said.
"Exactly."
"My father won't like that."
"Frankly, I don't care what your father doesn't like." She pressed the cool cloth to his reddened skin.
His eyes fluttered closed, a new set of tears streaming down his other cheek. "I'm s-sorry for bein' bad," he whispered.
"Hey. It's okay. I love you." She wiped the tears away with her fingers.
"I-I have to tell Father I'm sorry."
"Your father is busy right now."
"But I was bad! I have to say sorry so he can love me!"
She could hardly stop the tears in her own eyes as she pulled the boy into her arms once again.
When she returned home, she barely hesitated before making the phone call to CPS. Alexander deserved so much better.
Nothing ever happened to Lionel. But Pamela came home from work the next day to find her home cleared out, her few remaining belongings bagged on her doorstep, and her final remaining friends refusing to pick up their phones.
Maybe she should have quit then, but if she did, there would be no one to protect the boy. God knew Lillian wasn't doing it.
A/N: This story is prewritten (18 chapters) and it's going to be my weekend story (i.e. posts on Saturdays and Sundays). I always enjoy hearing your thoughts!