Chapter 2: A Grandmother's hatred

Jonathan would later say that his grandmother was one of the many people he despised. Yet for a few short years that wasn't true. As a young child, his grandmother was the one who kissed his scraped knee to make it feel better or made him feel happy on a gloomy day. She was always kind and understanding. But ever since his sixth birthday, her mental health began to rapidly deteriorate. While Jonathan's grandmother was always a deeply devoted Christian, she soon began to obsess over the Bible. Even the Minister at the church they attended was worried. Jonathan wasn't too sure, though, if it was his grandmother's state of mind and her new found fanaticism or because of The Letter that sparked within her a life-lasting hatred of him.

It was a typical hot summer day when The Letter came. It was towards the last few days of school and Jonathan was walking back to his grandma's house after a long day of Kindergarten. At school, a couple of kids teased him at recess when he wouldn't go any closer then ten feet next to a flock of ravens that were perching in a nearby elm tree. The teasing wasn't particularly hurtful, so he shrugged it off and went off to play on the monkey bars. After recess, the class gathered on the worn carpet of room 318 and heard Ms. Leon, their teacher, read The Velveteen Rabbit out loud. Jonathan remembered liking the book very much and he was still thinking of the stuffed rabbit when he walked on the side of the road, past the tall golden cornfields of his town. His small rucksack was fitted over his shoulders and he was swinging his tin lunchbox, humming a song that he learned in class after naptime. The rural road was empty, save a few cars that drove by occasionally. Soon Jonathan came to a dirt path that led to some farms and his house. He walked down the path, stopping at times to observe the livestock that were grazing on the grass. He then reached the yellow-roofed house that he called home. He went up the steps and past his grandmother's rocking chair that was creaking slowly on the porch. He opened the screen door and went in, careful to close the door gently since he knew his grandmother hated it when he slammed it shut. Jonathan placed his rucksack and lunchbox on the counter and sat at the table to draw. He had to move some of the bibles that were crowded on the mahogany table and he placed them in neat piles at the corner. He looked up when he heard a familiar creaking sound from the stairs.

"Hello Grandma!" greeted Jonathan enthusiastically when he saw his grandmother coming down the stairs. He got up and came over to her once she was at the bottom of the stairs.

He was about to hug her but before he could, she held out a hand to stop him and asked sternly, "Why are all the bibles all over the table?"

Jonathan looked back at the table and saw that he didn't stack all the bibles and said in his defense, "Well, they were like that when I got there."

"No they weren't. I placed 'em in the bookshelf this morning," Replied his grandmother, who pointed her boney finger to the obviously overfilled shelf.

In fact, it was so overcrowded with various knickknacks of crosses, painted crucifixes, and other religious items that it looked like it was going to collapse at any moment.

"But Grandma, you couldn't have put all that books in the shelf, it's too-"started Jonathan.

He was quickly cut off by his grandmother saying in an authoritive tone,

"Could you please put the bibles back in the shelf like you found them?" She then walked out the door, shutting the screen door harshly behind her.

Jonathan sighed and walked back to the table and picked up the books. He walked to the bookshelf and began to take the various knickknacks down and replacing them with the bibles. Once all the bibles were in place, he looked around the living room to see where he could put the former occupants of the bookshelf. He saw a drawer in the corner of the room and stuffed all the knickknacks in it. Jonathan knew that his grandmother would be upset with him if she found out that he crammed her things in the drawer, but her punishment for not doing what she asked him to do would be far greater. To Jonathan, it seemed that his grandmother's tolerance level seemed to be diminishing each day. Although she was always a bit strict, she was also kind and understanding. That was until a couple of months ago. Jonathan was too young to know about dementia or other mental illnesses, but he knew that something was amiss with his grandma. He just wished that what ever made her change would go away.

He was sitting on the sofa, reading a book for homework when his grandmother came back. She was holding a stack of mail in one hand while holding the door with the other. Jonathan put his book down and went to help his grandmother. He held the door for her and she went inside. She said nothing to Jonathan and went to the table to sort out her mail. Jonathan sat back down on the sofa but he didn't go back to reading his book. Instead he was studying his grandmother's face. She had a particular look on her face while she was reading an envelope in her hand. To him, it looked like she was approving of whatever she was reading on the envelope, yet at the same time she looked a little melancholy. It was like she was remembering something from long ago. She delicately opened the top of the envelope and took out the letter. Jonathan saw her eyes scan the letter and she was mouthing mutely some of the words. What scared him though, was the transformation of his grandmother's face. She had gone from a melancholy look to outright fury in her small squinty eyes of hers. She balled up the letter in her fist and was shaking in anger.

"How dare she! I raised her son for six years and this is how she repays me!" shouted his grandmother.

She looked at Jonathan and then ordered, "Come here!"

Jonathan was a bit reluctant to come over, knowing that whatever his grandmother was going to do to him wasn't going to be good. He made his way to his grandmother's side and stood still, unsure of what was going to happen next.

His grandmother grabbed his wrist hard and hissed, "Remember this Jonathan; your mother is a whore. A filthy, lecherous whore!"

Jonathan nodded to appease his grandmother. The fact was, he never heard much about his mother. All he knew about her was that she left him with his grandmother when he was just a baby.

"Your mother was and still is filled to the brim with her sins. You, Jonathan were born from her sins. You must repent not only for your sins but your mother's as well," Stated his grandmother with sudden calm in her voice.

The change in her temper made Jonathan regard his grandmother warily. He had a very bad feeling that she was planning something terrible.

His grandmother got up and dragged him by his wrist to their yard. Jonathan couldn't help but whimper in pain. He felt like his wrist was going to snap in half. The once flower filled yard was now choked with weeds. Next to the peeling white picket fence was a large round metal tub. Jonathan's grandmother let go of his wrist and began to hose the tub, filling it up with water. Jonathan rubbed his sore wrist as he watched her, wondering what she was planning to do. Once she filled the tub with water, she called Jonathan over and instructed him to kneel in front of the tub.

He did as she asked him and she instructed, "Repent to the Lord, Jonathan."

Jonathan pressed his hands together in prayer and said humbly, "Lord I am sorry. Please forgive me for my sins." He looked up at grandmother, but then his head was pushed down into the water. He gasped for air and tried to lift his head but found out that his grandmother was pressing his head into the water and wouldn't let go. Before he ran out of air, his head was pulled back to the air.

He coughed and sputtered, while his grandmother said threateningly, "Be more sincere this time."

Jonathan began again, "My Lord, I am really, really sorry. Please forgive me because I'm very sinful." His head was pushed back into the water for a longer time. He felt like his lungs were going to burst. When his grandmother pulled his head out from the water, he was crying.

"This isn't a joke!" shouted his grandmother, shaking Jonathan.

"I'm not laughing!" choked out Jonathan.

His grandmother narrowed her eyes to what in her view, was her grandson's insolence. She lowered Jonathan's head close to the water and he began to sob.

"No, no, please! I'm sorry my mother is a whore! I'm sorry!" he cried out, before his head was plunged back into the water.

His grandmother kept his punishment going until late in the day. Jonathan felt hurt, both physically and emotionally. He didn't understand what he did to ignite his grandmother's anger. What he did know, however, was that he was at her mercy, no matter what her condition was. Jonathan wished he could say that was the only time he was abused by his grandmother. It was, unfortunately for him, only the beginning.

Author's notes: This chapter is more or less an introduction of Jonathan's abuse from his grandmother. As for The Letter, I'll post it in a later chapter. I thank you all for your reviews, it helps me feel motivated.