I don't know how long I sat there on the porch just rocking Joanie back and forth and smoothing my hand over those wild curls of hers. I remember I had to get her glasses off her because I knew they weren't doing her any good anymore. Once things settled down, she had to clean the lenses for all the dried tears. I stuffed them in my pocket for the time being and just held and rocked her until she quieted down and I thought perhaps she had fallen asleep. It was getting dark but I was more thinking she had just worn herself all out from crying. No man deals well with feeling helpless and there's not much of a more helpless feeling than seeing someone you love in pain and knowing there ain't a thing you can do about it. I ain't proud of what I'm about to tell you but the respect I had when Joanie first told me that Aaron had gone to stand up for things he believed in started turning to anger at him for putting himself in a place to get hurt and cause her such pain. I told you I ain't proud of it and I got over it. It's not like he got her killed or really hurt but in that moment, I needed someone to blame and a faceless mob in Montgomery was too vague for me to get mad at. Aaron had a face and if it had been in front of me right then I would've punched it. He wasn't there though and that was the problem of course. She wouldn't have been crying like that, whimpering like a kicked puppy if he'd been there, if she could have seen him and taken stock and known he was alright.

Now I didn't know it then and neither did she or her dad but if he'd been there in front of us, it wouldn't have made her feel a bit better and I couldn't have brought myself to land that punch. We found out later that he'd spent most of those two months unconscious and would spend the next one that way for the most part as well. There was a lot of doubt as to whether he'd be able to go back to school ever but he ended up bucking the odds and only missed a semester. He hobbled around Harvard but then if you have to hobble around somewhere, Harvard is as pretty a place to do it as you'll find.

Well, like I said, she calmed a bit after a while and all that was left was the irregular hitching kind of breath that you get after crying a long time when your body is just trying to get back to breathing right. I still just held her and petted her hair and kissed the top of her head every so often. Then I remembered where I'd been earlier that week.

"Hey, sweetie," I said trying to sound a little more upbeat and knowing my own worry both for her and for Aaron kept that from happening. "I have some news that might make you at least a little happy."

She pulled back from me with a look that said nothing shy of her friend standing in front of her in perfect health was going to do that.

"Annie had a baby boy a few nights ago," I said, "Timothy."

She did sort of smile a little at that and I knew in some way it did make her happy. Annie was sweet and we all had taken to her pretty fast and Ike was damned hard not to like so there really weren't any circumstances that would keep a person from sharing at least a little in their happiness.

"That is good news," she said, "How's Annie doing?"

"Emma and I went up to see them and she seemed in real good spirits," I told her.

"I'll bet he's a cutie," she said.

I just nodded and tried to wipe away some of her tears. Her face was a mess but then when you love someone, that don't really matter 'cause she was just as beautiful to me as always. I gave her back her glasses and she used her shirt tail to wipe away the little white salt spots left when her tears dried to the lenses before she shoved them back on her face.

"How's the rest of the family doing?" I asked knowing how close the Cohen and Shapiro families were.

"Dad's trying to be all strong and stoic and mom is almost as big a mess as I am," she said, "Judy's not as close with him as me but she's fourteen so everything is very dramatic for her. She and mom are leaning on each other."

"Don't you need to be with them?"

She shook her head, "No, I needed you. I need you."

She stood so sudden that she wobbled from the sudden change after having been sitting for so long.

"I have to get out of here," she said just as suddenly as she had stood.

"Where?" I asked.

"I don't care," she said, "I just can't be here anymore. Please James; take me away from here now."

"Let your dad know you're going and then I'll take you anywhere you want to go," I promised.

We went in and I saw Mrs. Cohen and Judy hugging each other. They broke apart for a minute and Mrs. Cohen tried to play the good hostess.

"James, it's so good of you to come," she began and seemed to search for what she was supposed to do or say next so I just pulled her into a hug. When I let go of her, Judy ran to me and I squeezed her tight. I looked up to see Mr. Cohen just staring straight ahead, his paper in his hand going unread and unacknowledged.

"I'm going out," Joanie said and her dad nodded more to me than to her. It was less a nod to confirm what she said or even to give permission than it was a nod to thank me for seeing to her. I couldn't have done anything else really but the responsibility felt awful heavy right about then. I had no idea how heavy it could get but I started to understand. Having that man who I had come to respect so, looking at me and trusting me to care for his little girl was about as heavy a thing as I had dealt with at that time.

Joanie grabbed a sweater to put over her shoulders because with the sun down, there was a slight chill creeping into the air. July can get like that when it's not so muggy. She took my hand and we left the sad house and the devastated people in it. I opened Joanie's door for her and closed it behind her before going around and sliding into the driver's seat.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Just drive," she said and I thought for a moment of that night over a year before when she had said those same words to me. I wished right then that I could go back to that night. I was insecure and trying to prove myself to her but I would have gladly gone back to that insecurity to be free of the sadness that was our companion on this drive.

Joanie slid across the seat and cuddled tight to me. The windows were down and somehow the tension and sadness and hurt seemed to fly out into the night air. Eventually Joanie's death grip on me loosened and she relaxed and seemed to almost be my normal Joanie, if there was such a thing as a normal Joanie.

"Is it wrong to ask how your week with Sherry went?"

She gave a small laugh that only had about half her heart in it but it was a laugh at least.

"I had a good time," she said, "Her family is completely crazy but in a good way. And Midland is a really nice town."

I was glad she had a nice visit. I always liked Sherry and how Joanie was when the two were together. There was something about Sherry that put people at ease and maybe it was coming from as crowded a house as she did but whatever it was, Joanie was less worried and unsure when she was with Sherry. I was glad that she was coming off a week like that when the news hit. If she had already been upset or stressed, I dread to think how bad it could have been. We drove around the city just soaking up the landscape and the skyline and then I got an idea. I pulled up to the garage and I know I got a strange look from Joanie. I took her hand and led her up the stairs, all the way to the roof. I turned and she was smiling at me. I knew it was the right thing when it occurred to me but if I needed it confirmed, her smile did it. It was the first smile I had seen, the first real one, since before she left for Sherry's.

We sat for a while and neither of us talked at first but then Joanie broke the silence.

"What did he go through?" she asked.

I just looked at her because I didn't know what she meant.

"What's it like to be hit, to be beaten?"

"Joanie," I said, "You don't need to think about things like that."

I liked the idea that she didn't know about such things and I never wanted her to either.

"I have to know," she said, "I have to know how it was for him." And then she added so quiet I almost couldn't hear her, "How it was for you too."

"No babe," I said, "You never need to know any of that."

I knew I was on some thin ice trying to decide for her what she did and did not need to know but I just didn't know if I could bear it for her to have any sort of understanding of being hurt like that; even if it wasn't firsthand knowledge.

"James," she said calmly and I knew there was a warning in her tone but there was also a searching for the words that could explain to me why she needed this. "Do you know the difference between sympathy and empathy?"

I shook my head. To be honest, I hadn't ever heard the word empathy before and sympathy was something on greeting cards you sent when someone died. It went with the word 'condolences'.

"Sympathy is feeling bad for someone," she explained, "It's sort of being sad because you know that someone else is sad. But empathy is actually being able to put yourself in their shoes. It's taking your own life experiences and truly knowing how that person feels. It's the heart of the golden rule. You know what that is, right? You had to learn the teachings of Hillel when you studied for your conversion. He put it pretty well, I thought."

He did at that. Hillel was a prophet and teacher who was challenged to explain all Jewish doctrine in the time a man might stand on one foot. He said, "That which is harmful to thee, do not to thy neighbor. All of the rest is commentary. Go forth and learn."

I nodded.

"Empathy is knowing how you'd feel in that situation and basing your own actions on how they would make you feel if you were on the receiving end."

She looked up at me with those big brown eyes and that halo of dark curls and I was powerless. Besides, she made a good argument. I would dare to say that Joanie rarely met her match at debating.

I sighed and closed my eyes allowing myself to go back to my own childhood. You might say I wasn't much more than a kid that night on the roof but I was twenty and times was different back then. Besides, if I was to explain how Aaron felt, it wouldn't do to tell a time when I was more evenly matched. He was beaten by a mob. I never was but a kid of six or seven getting beat by a grown man is pretty damned close in that there is just as much chance of fighting back or escaping.

"I was real little," I began and I felt her hand tighten around mine urging me on but also comforting me and reminding me that the memories were just that. "I guess maybe in first or second grade. My dad's a big guy. He's over six foot tall and must weigh well over two hundred pounds. When he worked he did construction so he wasn't fat for all that physical labor. He seemed like a giant to me. When he was sober and not angry, he was like this giant teddy bear or something I could cuddle into and feel like he could fight off the scariest monsters. But he wasn't sober often and drinking seemed to make him madder and he was plenty mad most of the time anyway. Mom took a lot of the beatings for me at first but after a while she just couldn't or wouldn't anymore. Of course she started drinking too and I guess that was why she didn't care to get between us anymore. For a while I tried hiding when he got home but that only made things worse. I remember the last time I tried hiding. I was under my bed and I thought he couldn't reach me but he just flipped the bed right over and there it sat on its side leaning against the wall and there I was curled into a ball exposed. He grabbed me by my arm and yanked me up. I felt my shoulder come apart and that hurt but I didn't have the chance to notice much before my head hit the wall. I could see the red start to cloud my eyes as the blood flowed and things got kind of dark and murky. I guess I almost passed out but he wasn't done with me, not by a long shot. I could feel his hands close around my throat and things really did get dark then. For a few minutes, my neck really hurt and so did the back of my head every time he brought it back down into the floor-it was like an explosion every hit-but the good thing about losing consciousness is that the pain stops too. It kind of faded and I know any fight that might have been instinct in me faded with it and with me. I sort of passed out I guess. Everything was dark and I couldn't breathe but I could still hear him stomping the floor around me. When he started kicking me, I felt that and that's when I started coughing because my lungs were trying to work again. He finally quit and I laid there bleeding and coughing for I don't know how long. I remembered someone told me about God once and that you could pray to Him if you needed help. I tried in my head. I was afraid to make any noise but I hoped it would work anyway. I fell asleep like that, on the floor next to my upended bed laying in my own blood and the pajamas I had wet when he slammed me against the wall. When morning came, I changed my clothes and hid the pajama bottoms so I wouldn't get in worse trouble for wetting my pants and I came out for breakfast. Mom wasn't drunk yet that morning and she took one look at me and loaded me on the bus to the hospital. She told the doctors I fell down the stairs and I'll hate those doctors forever for not asking what kind of boots the stairs was wearing to leave those marks on my ribs. I had a concussion, a broken nose, a dislocated shoulder and a broken arm. Plus they said my kidneys was bruised and a few of my ribs was broken too. That was the worst of the beatings, I think. But it's not like they stopped, not until I could fight back some anyway."

I hadn't looked at Joanie the whole time I told the story. I hadn't even really let my mind believe I was talking about myself. That's the protection you get sometimes is pretending it didn't really happen, it was someone else or something you imagined and it didn't hurt that things that traumatic always seemed to replay in your head like a movie you're watching. When I finished, I did look at her and she was trying to stay strong but the shining tracks down her face told another story altogether. I wanted to reach for her and hold her but I felt ashamed. I know I was just a little kid and like I said before, there was no chance to fight back or run away but there's a shame in being someone whose parents would do that. There's guilt and a wondering what you did wrong to make them hate you so much.

I didn't have to reach for her or say anything because she reached for me. She held me close and she kissed me and rocked me. I didn't cry because she was doing enough for the both of us and it was in the past after all but I let her hold me. There's nothing quite like being safe and held and I'm man enough to admit that I felt safe in her arms, not just that night but always.

Okay...that was kind of intense. I sort of want to pick up little Jimmy Hickok off that bedroom floor and hold him and tell him he doesn't have to live with those mean people anymore. I don't know as there's much more to say about this chapter except that I hope it spoke to you and served a purpose in the story for you. I contemplated changing the rating due to the violence against a child but I think I'm still in PG-13 turf.

Um, well, the Tigers won last night...Justin Verlander was dialed in and if we win tonight, then the series is over and we can sit back and see if Texas or Tampa comes out on top because we'll play one of them. Go Tigers! And go Rick Porcello because he's our starting pitcher tonight. On paper, I like this match up because I think he's a much better pitcher than AJ Burnett who the Yanks are putting out there but games aren't played on paper and well, the post season is a separate thing so whatever they each did in the regular season doesn't really matter.

And the Red Wings open on Friday! Oh giant happiness! 23 man roster was just announced and I wish one of our babies could have made the big team this year but I know the first injury, he'll be right there. He is good beyond his years. Like really good. But I am excited to get some hockey games that count! Oh I love hockey. I have the Red Wing logo tattooed around my ankle...no joke. It was my first tattoo.

So, yeah...I'll try to get another chapter up soon and hopefully we can get some happy going for a little while. Too much sad and hurt in this one and even the one before. Maybe Emma needs to meet up with a nice fella...that could be good...what do you all think? I gotta cheer this puppy up somehow. There's only so much that can be done by looking at pictures of baby pandas (though if you are sad, it does help). Let me know what you think about this chapter or what could maybe finally go right for our guys. I mean even the birth of little Timmy sort of got overshadowed and that stinks because I'm sure Timmy is about the cutest little guy ever with Annie's reddish hair and Ike's big ole smile. I just want to squeeze him and smooch on his chubby little face...Oh little Timmy McSwain, why do you have to be only a figment of my imagination? It's just not fair. So talk to me people!-J