The Genial

Several more weeks had gone by. In that time many more confessions and conversations to help get Joe through his darkened and self-loathing thoughts. They were all just trying to move past this but progress was slow going. It still seemed that there was so much more Joe was holding back. Secrets he had locked deep within.

Ben had left just after breakfast to make the trip into town.

"Thanks for coming in Ben." Doctor Martin an old family doctor who had been away, greeted as he came through. Since he's been back, at the request of the family he has worked closely with Doctor Travis in Scotty's care. He has become very familiar with Scotty's case.

"I'm happy to do my part." He says removing his hat and shaking hands. Martin guides Ben into another room with large bay windows that let in soft light which gave the room a bluish tinge reflecting off mahogany stained walls and a walnut georgian executive desk. An older gentlemen, who had been sitting opposite this desk in waiting, promptly stood as they entered.

"This here is Mister Davidson, the boy's uncle. I was thinking the three of us could sit down and talk. Give him an idea of what to expect."

"Sure."

Two days ago, Doctor Martin came to him to ask if he'd be willing. He'd agreed then. This was why he was here. But the doc chose to present the conversation in this manner all the same.

"Please sit." Ben took the chair next to Mister Davidson and Martin took his seat behind his desk to give him a professional disposition.

"You've driven all the way down here from Missouri. We appreciate you being here and your willingness to take on this child."

"He is of my own blood. The only living heir to our family line."

"I think there should be no misconceptions. This is a big responsibility you're taking on. I just think you should know what you're getting yourself into."

"If you're trying to talk me out of this, it won't work." He said, gesturing with his palms.

"No, no. That's not what I'm doing. Lord knows that boy is in desperate need of a good home. I will not spit on any man willing to give that to him. But I do want you to be prepared as to what kind of boy you'll be taking on."

"Alright. That's good. Good."

"I know that you've been told some about the circumstances of this case. That there was another boy in connection with your nephew."

"Yes."

"Well Mister Davidson, that boy was Joseph Cartwright. This man's son. Aside from your nephew, Joseph Cartwright is the only other person who knew what truly went on in that house. As he lived it himself for a short while."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Ben genuflected.

"This is why I have asked him to come. I'd like you to hear it from him, some of what Mister Cartwright has discovered through Joe, as well as what symptoms Joe had exhibited as a result. Mister Cartwright." He turned to the pater. "Can you give Mister Davidson here an idea of what those boys experienced in that house?"

"Mister Davidson." Ben started.

"Please, call me Harvey."

"Harvey." He continued. "Joe was hurt by this man both physically and emotionally. Physically, Joe suffered regular beatings. He was slapped, punched, drug around by his hair and even kicked when he'd fallen to the floor. For extra fun, Tomlinson liked to tie them up before bringing out the belt. After whipping them he'd leave them like this. Bound like they were. They suffered through days of thirst and starvation at a time." Ben who went in with the intention of being passive, clinical; got a little choked as he recounted the horrors of what Joe had lived through. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize Mister Cartwright. This is pretty tough stuff." Ben let out a breath, gulped and began again.

"Emotionally, he was broken down by this man and made to feel like he was nothing. He was made to believe that everything that was happening to him was his own fault. That he deserved every bit of it because of how bad of a child he really was. Mister Tomlinson made him feel like he was worth nothing and that he could do nothing right and because he could do no right, that we, his family, was disappointed in him. He put lies into his head that it was due to our disappointment in him that we really left."

"Oh how awful."

"He told Joe, that everything he did to him was done at our request and pre-approval. He made Joe believe that if he didn't submit to him, that we would never again take him back. That he would live there forever." It was easy to hear the emotions in the voice of the pater as much as he fought to push them down.

"I know how hard this is for you. If you could, I'd like for you now to talk about how this experience has affected Joe. What kind of things have you seen or experienced with Joe since you've gotten him back?"

"Joe was with this man for 8 weeks and in that time he became a different boy. Withdrawn, depressed, suffered from self-loathing. He was left with the belief that he would be sent back if we weren't happy with him. He was always afraid of messing up. Eager to please. He suffered outburst then immediately after fall into supplication."

Davidson reflected as to what kind of boy Scotty would be.

"Joseph had a fluctuating awareness to the environment around him. Sometimes it seemed as if he was far away in his mind not seeing or hearing what was going on around him and other times when we hadn't known he was listening we'd come to find out he was there. Studying our every word and action. Studying our facial expressions and influx in tone. Always on the lookout for anything that would indicate danger or disappointment in him; or clue him in on our expectations of him. He worked himself into exhaustion in an effort to please. Leaving no room for play. The very idea became taboo in his mind. He was wound so tight that his effort to not err in his doings would cause him to err more."

"You see." The doc cut in. "The thing is, first we all know nobody can be perfect, but when you're in such an abusive and constrictive environment you tend to make more mistakes than average or your mistakes are more proliferated. The mistakes they made was more often than not as a direct result of their abuse?"

"I see."

"Burning bread, breaking a cup. Mistakes that we would find insignificant became profound in his mind. Because any one of them could resort in a beating, or worse."

Ben nodded, to confirm this.

"To Joe." Ben added. "It could be the reason we were looking for to send him back." He said passed the knot in his throat.

The genial reflected. "May I ask Mister Cartwright, how is your son now?"

He took in a breath to gather himself. "It's been an uphill battle. He's better now, but it has taken time to get him there."

"How did you help your boy?"

"Joseph needs constant reassurance. Constant love. He shrinks at any outburst and resorts to the boy he was when we first got him back. He's watchful of everyone and everything that happens around him. He still watches us for any sign of anger, any inflection in tone that might indicate he's about to be hurt; or disappointment that might confirm that Mister Tomlinson was right about him all along and that he might again be abandoned by us. He's got a constant fear of being abandoned. Dark spaces. Being alone."

"Joe was only with him for eight weeks." The Doc iterated. "In that time you could see the damage he was able to cause in Joe. Keep in mind, Scotty was raised by this man."

"His mother died when he was four. Bright's disease." Mister Davidson confirmed.

"Paul was able to turn Joe's mind in that short period of time. In the years that Scotty was raised by him, you could imagine how much worse it might have been for him."

The picture was starting to look real glum to the elder.

"Now, Mister Davidson, Scotty's not going to evince all of the same symptoms as their experiences were quite different. Scotty may not feel a fear of abandonment per se, at least not in the same way as Joe did. You see Scotty wasn't left with this man by a loving father. His abuser was his father, as you know already. Because of this, he might develop a fear of strong male figures."

So where does that put him. The elder wondered. Would the boy see him as a strong male figure? He would have to do what he could to slake his demeanor around the boy.

"In regards to social interactions, he may develop a fear of large crowds, become over stimulated in them as he likely doesn't have much experience with them." The question of 'why?' was on the elder's face. "You see." The doc explained. "To conceal the abuse, Tomlinson hid the boy away, out of public view. As a result, Scotty's social interaction is very limited. On the flip side, he might also exhibit a fear of dark spaces or confinement. Of being left alone."

"I thought you said he wouldn't have a fear of being left alone."

"I said, not in the same way as Joe. But you have to remember, Tomlinson would leave these boys for days at a time without food or water. He might fear these same tortures if left alone."

Great. So he can't take him out into public places and he can't leave him home alone. His options were appearing very limited.

"Anything else?"

Doctor Martin was afraid he was starting to scare this man off. As much as he wanted to quit with what information he gave him already, he knew he couldn't. He had to equip this man with all he could before placing the fragile child in his care.

"He wets the bed still." He admitted.

Alright. He could deal with that.

"But that may likely have been a direct result of his abuse. Ironically one of the greatest tools his abuser would use to punish him with." How awful. "He will probably continue to wet the bed for a while to come. In time however as he starts to feel safe this should taper off."

"Anything else?" He was almost afraid to ask now.

"He's a quiet child. Says very little. He doesn't tell you when he's hungry or thirsty so you have to watch out for that. He also won't tell you when he's hurting."

He nodded subtly as he absorbed this.

"This is all just speculation as every child is different. You may find that he's developed a fear that we haven't mentioned here. A fear of water for example."

"Why water?"

"Tomlinson would hold Scotty's head beneath the surface during bath times."

"God!" He uttered. "Is there anything he didn't do to this boy?"

"The fear of water is just an example of what could develop later on down the line. It could develop into full blown panic attacks or just extra caution around water or nothing at all. He's had regular baths in the past weeks since he's been in state custody and has yet to exhibit signs of fear."

"My older boy gave him a bath and said he was fine." Ben placated.

"I just thought I should mention it in case it does come up later."

"That's good. Promising. I'll look out for that though."

"What we have seen is he's hypersensitive to dirt. He doesn't like the feel of it. He doesn't play in the mud like other boy's his age. He likes to be clean and more than that everything around him has to be clean."

"Probably because bath times were so traumatic." Harvey was starting to get the picture.

"Tomlinson didn't like dirt so Scotty doesn't like dirt. Tomlinson also didn't like messes so Scotty doesn't like messes. Scotty has to have everything neat and in its order."

"Well, how bad can that be?"

"This may seem like a good thing on the surface, but as you might come to find out it might come to be quite a challenge dealing with a child who has to have everything in its place. When things are put out of place who knows what kind of reactions you might get. He didn't have toys to play with growing up, but what little possessions he did have were always kept in good order, this is just a reflection, because anything out of place could resort in discipline. He has toys to play with now. Misses Suthers, the woman he's with now, has made sure of it. Not much, just a few little items. He was genuinely touched to receive them. He possessed them like they were gold but oddly enough didn't play with them. Not initially at least. He'd spent most of his time setting them up and finding the perfect order to keep them in. More and more as he's become comfortable in his environment he's taken them down to play with."

"This is good news."

"It means there's hope for him. It means he can change. He can believe in the people around him. That they are not there to hurt him."

"You think he'll ever be a normal kid?"

"I don't think he knows what normal is. I think in time he will learn to laugh and love. He will play like other kids. I don't think his experiences will ever leave him completely though. They were his foundation. What he was built upon, but I do think in time he could learn to live a, quote/unquote, 'normal' life."

"What should I do? How do I help him?"

"Keep your tone even and reasoned. Try not to lose your temper with him."

"Oh, I'm a very patient man. Not much gets me riled in my old age."

They could believe that. Something about this old man evinces gentleness.

"He needs constant love and reassurance."

"Lots of hugs." Ben added.

"Oh, I can do that."

"Expect that you won't have all the answers. Learn as you go."

He nodded as he took it in.

"So." Martin had to ask this after all that had been exchanged. He had to know where this man's mind was at. "Did we scare you out of this?" The gentleman who had been in deep consternation as he absorbed all this looked up and smiled.

"Scare me? No." He inhaled deeply and let it out. "I do have my reservations though." He admitted.

"You do?"

In deep thought, he expounded. "On the one hand, I think that you're right. This kid does need a loving home. I have a lot of that to give. But on the other, I wonder if that's really enough. What if it's not? What if I'm not really the one to help him?"

"You think you're having second thoughts?"

"Are you?" He posed the same question back at the doc but Martin didn't quite understand. "What I mean is, I didn't scare you into thinking that I didn't want him, did I?"

"Do you?" Martin shot the question right back to him.

"With all my heart, but maybe you think now that I'm not really the right man for the job. That maybe I might screw this up?"

"I don't think that at all. If you're willing, so are we. You are still willing to try?"

He took a resolute breath. "I haven't changed my mind on this. He is still my family. The progeny of my sister. What kind of a man would I be if I turned him away? I'd live the rest of my life despising myself. I'd spend my dying days wondering where he was and if he was alright. I'm just nervous."

The doc smiled. "I think these are normal feelings that you're having. The fact that you're having them instead of jumping in with an idealistic approach is comforting. It lets me know you've heard our words. If you ask me, I think your love is just what this kid's going to need. You will make mistakes, but your love for him is going to give you strength and patience to keep trudging forward. Do you think you could love him?"

"I think I already do and I haven't even met him." Those words were so endearing it near brought tears to both Doc and Ben. This is going to be a perfect fit.

"Would you like to meet him?"

"Oh yes."

~.~

Together they left the office and made their way down the street over to the home of Misses Suthers. The old widow woman answered the door admitting them in. They entered through the kitchen. There was a sweet smell that overtook that house. Three steaming pies laid atop the countertop. More filled the oven.

"Misses Suthers." The doc greeted. "This here is Harvey Davidson. Scotty's uncle."

"Oh, how do you do?" She bowed her obeisance."

"Well, Misses Suthers. Well." He answered with a tip of his hat. "We didn't come at a bad time I hope." Motioning to her creations on the counters.

"Oh no."

"She bakes pies and sells them to the General Store and International House."

"Oh. Is this where they come from?"

"It's how I make my living."

"She's so modest. Let me tell you, she's doing the community a service. This is her little contribution to the world."

"Oh stop!" She waved off the docs adulations. "You're free to try some if you'd like. I've got a nice boysenberry already broken into."

"With all the hype, I'd be honored to." She went to pull a pie from the icebox.

"Oh!" He stopped her. "Maybe in a bit."

"He actually came to meet Scotty." She smiled understandingly and left the pie as is. "How's he doing?"

"Oh, you know, he's a quiet child." She closed the door to the icebox. "He is playing a lot more but even still he seems somber. He's in there now." The old woman indicated the boy on the floor in the adjacent room.

"Oh, he's a beautiful child." The genial couldn't help but remark.

Davidson was right. There was a glow about him that illuminated his fragile and guarded soul. One moment was all it took to see in the child what everyone has spoken of. There was a melancholy about him.

"Go on." The doc urged. Davidson crawled over to him, getting down on his level.

"Hey Scotty." The boy played with his shaggy grey bunny doll without looking up. "I'm your uncle. How do you do?" As expected, the boy kept silent. He continued to move about his stuffed doll but as slow as his movements were before, they slowed further and drew in a bit more. Davidson glanced up at the other two and the woman standing next to them repining sorrowfully. The other two had hope in their eyes urging him to go on. He turned back to the boy and took a breath. "I'm here to take you home." He finally said. The boy stopped playing. His grip tightened around his rabbit as fear sunk into his eyes. Perhaps he thought he meant the home he was used to. He hastily amended. "I'm going to take you far away to where your pa will never find you." The boy sat with this. The venerable gentleman looked back at the others once again. After a moment the boy's grip around his doll lessened indicating he had relaxed. He didn't go back to playing. He continued to sit there still and quiet. They all waited to see how the boy would take this news. It was life changing for him. Perhaps more than his fragile mind could accept. The boy reached over, handing his bunny doll to the stranger. "What's this? You want me to have it?" The boy answered by wrapping his arms around the man, which no one expected him to do, in trusting acceptance, bringing tears to the eyes of all who witnessed it.