June 7th, 1992

The warm breeze wafted through the open windows of the rickety old house. Summer was so hot in Texas even the breezes were sweating. It didn't help the heat that Sheldon liked to lock his and Missy's bedroom door and draw the curtains.

On that warm summer evening, it was relatively calm in the Cooper house. Mary was in the kitchen, making cornbread, while the twins were in their sweltering room.

Missy examined her newly mascera coated eyes in a small handheld mirror. Even at ten years old, she was stunning. She'd probably look less sticky and even prettier, she thought to herself, if Shelly'd let her open a damn window.

"I tol' you Missy, I don' want anyone stealin' mah ideas. Openin' a winder is practically invitin' the Russian spies to come over an' distroy American life firever." Her brother said, scribbling something in his notebook. He didn't even look up at her.

Missy rolled her eyes and contemplating kicking him when she heard tires roll in the front driveway. Her eyes widened. Sheldon dropped his pencil.

Their father was home.

"I though' he was gonna be in town til' late!" Missy whispered to her brother, her voice full of fear. Sheldon ran to the window and peeked out underneath the shade.

"Well, clearly he ain't." He said, his voice fading off on the last word. They heard the car door slam and George Cooper's deep voice booming across the lawn.

"No good brat...jus' wait 'till I get mah hands on you..." He was growling. Missy and Sheldon peeked out the window again. George Cooper Sr. was growling at George Cooper Jr., their big brother. Georgie was being held by the ear and dragged into the house.

"MARY! GET YER FAT ASS OU' HERE AND HEAR WHA' THIS BOY DID!" Mr. Cooper roared. Sheldon tried to lock the bedroom door. Missy caught him by the arm and pulled him to the top of the stairs instead. Sheldon looked terrified, but followed his sister's lead and peered through the bars at the kitchen below.

Mrs. Cooper, who had heard the shouting, ran to the front door.

"George, what's wrong? What happened tuh Georgie? George, are yuh drunk again?" Her voice started rising.

"I though' we threw all the six-packs 'way!"

George looked at his wife hard for a second. His eyes were bloodshot and unfocused. Then he reached for her hair and yanked her down to the floor.

There was a loud SMACK! and Mary fell silent. Missy slapped her hands over Sheldon's mouth to keep him from screaming. George was swaying below them, apparently unaware Mary was unconscious. He continued talking as Georgie gaped, horrified, at his mother.

"Lil' bitch...This dumbass boy was hangin' ou' at the downtown with his friends when he was 'possed to be at football."

"Dad, I di'int make the football team, OK? It ain't the end of the worl'!" Missy and Sheldon's fourteen year old brother spoke up for the first time. His voice was angry and defiant. "Stop freakin' ou'!"

There was a pause. Missy felt her heart stop. Then George roared, a string of obscenities. He whirled around wildly.

Then his eyes fell on the carving knife. Mary had had it out to cut cornbread. Georgie swayed even more severely as he gripped the wooden handle and suddenly spun to face Georgie.

Sheldon saw what was going to happen a second before it did.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he heard a slashing of a knife.

Georgie screamed. Missy burst into silent tears.

George turned and stomped up the stairs. Missy and Sheldon ran and hid under their beds until he passed out on his own.

It was dark by the time Sheldon managed to collect himself and run down to the kitchen. His small first aid box was tucked neatly under his arm. He saw his mother and brother waiting for him. Georgie was propped up against the table, his leg that had been slashed with the knife was starting to bleed profusely. Mary had pulled herself into a nearby chair, looking dazed. They didn't even react when they saw Sheldon come down with his tools. They knew the drill.

As usual, everyone was silent as Sheldon expertly stitched Georgie's leg and gave his mother an ice pack and pain medication. Then he grabbed her shoulders and looked into her eyes. He spoke softly, but slowly and clearly.

"Mommy, aye need tuh check fir a concussion. Lemme ask yuh some questions."

Mary Cooper only nodded, running her hand over the dried blood in her hairline.

"What are yer children's names?"

"My beautiful children...they're called Georgie, Missy, and Shelly..." She reached out to touch his face. "My brave children..."

Sheldon just kept talking, like he couldn't even see his mom.

"Wha's the name of our church?"

Mary swallowed, her throat dry.

"St. Mark's...Shelly, let's stop... I'm sleepy."

Sheldon considered this for a moment, then nodded.

"Alrigh'. Both of you seem tuh be functionin' well on a cognitive level. Go to sleep." He started to pick up his equipment as Mary helped George stand up. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the needle he'd stitched Georgie's leg with fall and scrape Sheldon's forearm.

"Aw...Shelly baby, yer arm..."

"I'm fine Mommy." Sheldon said shortly. His face was motionless. His eyes stared at his cut with a short of dark fascination. Mary felt her heart ache. With her free arm, she reached out and stroked his soft, dark hair.

He stiffened.

"Please don't do that." He whispered. His voice was tight and surprisingly angry.

Mary withdrew her hand. Something was wrong with Sheldon. And she, as a good mother, shouldn't have left his alone in the kitchen.

But she did.

That was the first time Sheldon cut himself.

It certainly wasn't the last.

But it was the last time he let anyone touch him.