It's a Wonderful Life Worth Living Chapter 2
The clouds seemed to clear and Peter and Jacob were looking down at eight year old Bobby Goren, a third grader in St. Joseph's School. It was recess and he was in the playground playing around with a few other boys.
"Aw, he sure is a little cutie," Jacob commented from above.
"Focus, Jacob!" Peter scolded. "This is why it's taking you so long to get your wings!"
Thoroughly chastised, Jacob watched and listened, then Peter relented. "But yes, Bobby was a very beautiful child physically. More importantly, he was also beautiful on the inside. He had a warm and loving heart. Not that he couldn't be riled, though…
Soon a couple of young girls arrived.
"Hi, Bobby," they said in a singsong voice. Bobby looked at them, and then looked away shyly.
"What's the matter, Bobby? Are you afraid you'll be crazy like your mother?" Now they had his attention.
"She's not crazy!" Bobby responded angrily.
"Yes, she is!" One of the girls, a particularly mean little girl, went on. I saw her! And my mother saw her too! We were in the grocery store, and your mother was there, and she was talking to herself." A few kids snickered, and Bobby reddened. "And then she put a box on her head and said it was going to rain!" The girl started laughing, barely able to continue. "She said…she said… we should all take cover!"
Now all the kids laughed. Bobby felt his cheeks turn hot.
"She's crazy, crazy…" By now a larger crowd had gathered, and a few started chanting "Bob-by Gore-on, mother is a mor-on."
"She is not! Stop saying that!" Bobby felt like crying, tears stung his eyes, but he learned a long time ago, with "help" from his father, that tears only made things worse. Why did they always have to do this? As they continued to chant, Bobby felt his shame turn to anger. His friends backed off, knowing what was coming. It was starting to happen on a regular basis.
Now one of the older boys started. "She is too! She's a crazy old witch!"
"You take it back!"
The boy gave Bobby a hard shove. "You make me take it back!"
Before anyone knew what was happening, Bobby ran at the boy and rammed his head into the boy's stomach, knocking him down. And even though he was much younger and smaller he soon got the best of the other boy. He was angry, very angry.
Minutes later, Sister Mary Thomas and Sister Angelina James were there, pulling the boys apart. It took quite a bit to pull Bobby off, and even longer to calm him down. Of course the other boy claimed Bobby started it, and Bobby refused to defend himself to the nuns so he suffered the brunt of the punishment. The other boy got off with a written punishment, but the nuns were fed up with Bobby's inability to stay out of trouble. And the fact that he was such an intelligent child with a high I.Q. yet did so poorly in school angered them. They had no idea of his tumultuous family life and the toll it took on him. They took him to see Father Michael, who was not at all gentle with him.
Watching from above, Peter said, "Bobby is a very angry child. He's been abused and neglected, and very much misunderstood. He's angry, but mostly at himself. He thinks that everything that has happened to him is all his fault."
"Poor kid," Jacob commented.
A few moments later they were seeing a whole new scene. Now they were looking into Bobby's home… He was eleven now, and his father was officially gone from their lives, leaving Bobby, his fourteen year old brother Frank and their mother to fend for themselves. The elder Goren had completely cut himself off from his sick wife and two sons. And although his father had never shown even the slightest bit of interest in him (other than punishing him) Bobby missed him terribly. He had literally craved attention from his father his entire life, and now it would never happen. He was devastated.
Life after that, though never easy before, was difficult; their father never once sent any money, and there were a lot of money problems. Frances worked as a librarian, which paid very little and because of her illness often found it difficult, if not impossible, to work. Frank got a temporary part time job after school. That didn't last, though, once he got in with the wrong crowd. And Bobby did odd jobs in the neighborhood. Sometimes it was only the money Bobby earned that put dinner on the table at night.
Frank had taken to staying away from home. He had no more desire to be at home with their mother than his father had, but wasn't quite old enough to leave home. The day he turned eighteen, though, he'd be out of there, too. The most he could do now was stay away as much as possible, and with their mother so messed up mentally it was pretty easy. So that left Bobby, at only eleven, to be the responsible one and care for his mother. It wasn't especially a job he liked, he'd have rather been out playing like his friends, but there really wasn't much choice in the matter.
"Bobby was always the responsible one," Peter said, "the caretaker. And no one ever really appreciated his efforts."
On this particular day, Bobby came home from school to find Frank gone again, and his mother, Frances, very agitated. "Mom," he said tentatively, "did you…um, take your pills today?"
She didn't hear him, or ignored him; he wasn't sure, and continued pacing back and forth with a cigarette in her hand about to burn her hand. All she kept saying was, "Frank! Where is Frank?" Then she turned to Bobby, not really seeing him. "Frank's gone, I can't find Frank!"
"Mom, your cigarette…" he nodded to her hand. She still ignored him, but a second later jammed the cigarette into an ashtray, then picked up the ashtray and smashed it back on the table, breaking it, startling Bobby. Frances continued to pace, talking to herself.
Bobby went into the kitchen and saw the pills he had left for her in the morning still sitting there, along with the cup of water. He sighed; this was going to be a hell of a night. He looked around. Nothing cooking on the stove. If they were going to eat tonight, and he was really hungry, he would be doing the cooking. This seemed to be happening more and more lately, Frances couldn't get it together long enough to cook or prepare a meal. Especially when she refused to take her pills. He picked up the pills and a fresh cup of water and took them to his mother.
"Here, Ma, here's your pills. Guess you forgot to take them today…"
Frances glared at him and suddenly knocked the pills and water from his hands. They went flying, and she slapped him hard. "I don't need those damn pills. They're going in the trash! Where are they?!"
"Mom, don't—"
"You think you can hide them from me? Do you?" She was furious. She started to hit him again, and he tried to back away, putting his arms and hands over his head to protect himself as best as he could. Frances exhausted herself trying to hit him, and then went into the kitchen. It didn't take her but a moment to find the "hidden" pills which were right in the cabinet, in the same place where they always were. She grabbed the bottle, and opened it, and started pouring the pills down the drain.
"Mom! If you throw 'em out we can't get any more for two weeks! Mom!"
Frances pushed him away and proceeded to pour them down the drain. She turned on the water, just to make sure they were gone. Then she turned to Bobby. "Get out!"
"Huh?"
It seemed to him as if she no longer realized who he was. She started after him again, trying again to hit him, all the while screaming, "Get out of my house. Now! GET OUT!" Before he even knew it he was out, and she was locking the doors. He stood there for a moment, then looked around to see if anyone else had seen this latest fiasco. Luckily it didn't appear that anyone had, and he breathed a sigh of relief for at least that. He felt his face where his mother had slapped him. His face not only hurt, it was hot, and he could already feel the welts her fingers had left on his face. He didn't want anyone to see him like that, cause they'd know. He had no idea when he'd be allowed back in the house, but the question really was, when would it be safe? When she got this way, she could be dangerous. A few times she had been so out of it she had really hurt him bad. If Frank hadn't returned when he did…
He sat on the steps and just waited, and realized that he was hungry. God only knew when he'd get back into the house to eat. Just once he wished Frank would come home and help him, because he just didn't know what to do. He was too young to be dealing with such things. It was almost beyond the young boy's scope. Not knowing what to do next, he finally decided to go to his friend Lewis' house. When this kind of thing happened, Lewis' home and family became his refuge. They knew all about his family situation. The good thing about this family was that they never made a big deal out of it, even though sometimes it was obvious that Bobby had been hurt in some way. Although sympathetic for what he was going through, they never treated him any different from any of Lewis' other friends, except that he spent a lot more time at their house than the other kids did. Bobby realized what they were doing, and appreciated it. It always got at least a small smile out of him. And of course Bobby reciprocated by helping Lewis (who had no head for math) with his school work. Basically it was Bobby who got Lewis through high school.
"Pretty sad," Jacob said.
Peter agreed, "Nothing he wasn't used to. She could be much worse, and was, but could also have her tender moments with him. Unfortunately they were few and far between.
Once again they looked down on young Bobby and his mother. This time a lucid Frances was finishing in the kitchen, and making some coffee. She carried it into the living room, where Bobby was lying on the floor watching a television show. When she came in, he jumped up. "I…I was just watching till you came back, Mom. Your favorite show is on another channel; want me to put it on for you?"
"Come here, Bobby," she told him. Bobby took a deep breath, went to her and braced himself for the worst. But she took his hands and pulled him to her, holding him in a tight embrace. To his surprise, she started crying. "Bobby, you are such a good boy and I'm…so sorry for the way I've been. I don't know where I'd be now if it wasn't for you…You make sure I take my pills, or at least you try to." She laughed a little. "And half the time you're the one fixing supper. You do everything." She kissed him, and hugged him to her. "You're such a good boy," she repeated.
"It's okay, Ma," he told her. And he waited, waited for the bomb to drop once more. It seemed like he was always waiting.
Unfortunately moments like this only served to confuse Bobby more. He loved his mother very much, and would have done anything for things to stay like this. But he knew they wouldn't. The good times were in the minority, and he never knew where he stood with her or what would set her off. He had to be on guard all the time.
"Being on edge like that all the time…he had to be a very tense and exhausted boy," Jacob guessed.
"Yes," Peter agreed. "The hardest part about this for Bobby was that when others made fun of him because of her, he felt a terrible shame, and an even worse sense of guilt for feeling that shame. But he loved her much more than he felt the shame, and defended, protected, and cared for her until the day she died.
"That all seemed to have followed him into adulthood," Peter said. They watched Bobby's life as he grew, through the tough teenage years, which, by the way, were very turbulent, to the time he joined the army, where he became a member of the Army CID. In the CID he would get the opportunity to use his great intelligence in profiling and crime solving, which later would come in handy when he became a detective in the NYPD. It was also the place where he first came into contact with Declan Gage, the man who would become his mentor, and in later years do him the most harm.
Bobby rose through the ranks of the NYPD very quickly; his prowess in Narcotics was legendary. And now he was a detective first grade in the elite Major Case Squad.
Peter continued. "Unfortunately for Bobby, the important job he had with the NYPD left him little time for a social life, and coupled with his fear of being hurt, left him a very lonely man."
"So he never got married?" Jacob said, a note of sadness in his voice.
"No…not that he didn't want to, all he really ever wanted in life was a real family, and to make a small difference in the world. He dated on occasion, but nothing really serious. His most serious relationship was with Denise Bremer, the assistant to the Chief of Detectives. Although he still sees her, his time is so limited that its almost impossible…Look, here is Bobby on the job with his partner, Alexandra…"
Jacob watched for a minute. "Nothing going on with them, I guess?"
"No, they care very deeply for one another, but not romantically…Watch this…"
Detectives Bobby Goren and Alex Eames arrived at the Coulter residence. Lucas Coulter was a man who owed a large debt to a loan shark, and his wife and daughters Maggie and Sarah were kidnapped in an attempt by the kidnappers to collect on the debt. While in captivity Maggie had been raped by a man who had committed various acts of violence against woman and girls during the War in Bosnia. He was continuing his reign of terror in the U.S. now, in the employ of the loan shark.
After the family had been released, Bobby and Alex wanted to talk to Maggie, to try to get her to identify her attacker so he could be put away and never harm another person again. Mr. Coulter was against it, but when his wife allowed it, Bobby was up the stairs in a second, with his partner Alex Eames right on his heels. Once in the room, he stood back for a moment as Alex tried talking sympathetically to Maggie. "Hi, Maggie, I'm Alex. I know you're angry…we can't make it better for you, only you can do that…" But Maggie was shut down; she was having none of it.
Then Bobby stepped in. "C'mon, look. That's the same crap she hears from her therapist…She's not a little girl, she'll talk when she wants to talk." He showed her pictures of the men who kidnapped her, and proceeded to tell her that this one was in the Serbian Army, that he and his buddies raped thousands of women and showed her newspaper accounts. And that they were now planning on kidnapping a fourteen year old girl. Bobby told her the man was a coward, a weakling.
And Maggie responded by saying "maybe they're the weaklings!"
"Who? The victims? No…This guy is a sadist, he likes to hurt people."
"Maybe he just knows what he wants and goes after it! Maybe he's just stronger than anybody else!"
"You like that about him? Want to be like him, never feel helpless again?" Bobby egged her on, and soon got her to admit just how helpless she had felt in the hands of the kidnapper, and she finally broke down. Bobby held her in a protective embrace and comforted her as she told him how bad the man had hurt her. And Bobby told her how strong she had been; she survived. In the end, Maggie made the ID, and the man went to prison. And Maggie, with her breakthrough with Bobby, his encouragement, and some professional counseling, was able to live a normal life.
"See that? Peter asked, proud as if Bobby were his own son. "Smart, and empathetic."
"I'll say," Jacob agreed.
They watched more of Bobby's life, the troubles with his schizophrenic mother, and his brother, who, despite his intelligence, turned to a life of drugs and gambling. They watched Bobby's success with the NYPD, his incredible solve rate, his friendship with his partner, his outrage at criminals for harming their victims, and his sympathy for the victims, especially children. And his understanding (and occasional empathy) of the criminal mind. And they knew his worst fear: that with a family history of mental illness, someday he, too, would go insane. Bobby's crime solving methods, while always successful, were sometimes rather unorthodox. Which led some people, including some jealous co-workers, to brand him as crazy, a whack job, everything he didn't want. He seldom let on, but it actually hurt him very much.
"Okay," Peter said, "Now this next scene is really important. Pay close attention. Something happens here that will prove very noteworthy."
The clouds drifted apart to reveal Bobby and Alex as they stepped into the den of Ray Wiznesky, a small town cop who had killed his stepdaughter. He immediately turned a gun on them. Bobby insisted that Alex be let go, insisted, and finally, after taking both their guns, he let her go. And said he wanted to kill Bobby. Bobby, hands in the air where Ray could see them, eventually talked him into giving up his gun. Wiznesky was taken into custody, and escorted out by uniforms. When Ray grabbed the gun off one of them and killed himself, Bobby was devastated. It was around the same time he found out that his mother was dying. This, along with Alex's kidnapping, was the start of his downfall.
Peter and Jacob saw everything up to the present. And it was the present that was going to kill Bobby. It was just about time for Jacob to do his thing.
tbc