Last Week

I did it. I broke it. It was me. Jacob stepped forward, toes touching the lamp shards. He straightened his back, reaching quickly behind him to gently squeeze his sister’s arm. Janie was a waif of a thing, wide eyed and fearful she stood silently,

obediently.

David Marsh towered above his 10 year old son. Tonight he was blessedly sober but his eyes still carried an old menace.

“Clean it up”, he said and strolled out the screen door. Jacob let out the breath he was holding and turned to his sister.

“Quick, grab the broom and dustpan.” He started picking up the larger shards so his sister wouldn’t cut her fingers. Janie was a smart, but a delicate six. She bruised easy and seemed to bleed an awful lot for nothing. She came back and handed it over. He started sweeping.

“Thank you”, she said weakly. He looked up and just nodded. She was quiet, her words as precious as silver dollars. He made a quick sweep through the small house, throwing out old bottles and cigarettes before he took out the garbage. When he got back inside, she was up on an old yellow foot stool doing dishes. He put a bag in the can and started drying beside her. They didn’t really talk. Jacob figured they had two good hours, maybe three if he met a girl. He had to have everything cleaned, dinner left in the oven, and his sister fast asleep before his father came home drunk. Maybe, MAYBE if it was all done, he would simply fall asleep in front of the TV and leave them be. He said a silent prayer for that and started off to draw her water.

Janie put her books away in her knapsack and sat them by the front door. She was in first grade now and Jacob walked her to school every morning. She liked having him close. She didn’t really have many friends. She knew the other kids talked about her father’s temper. They also knew her mother was dead and buried at the Pine Bayou cemetery down the road. She was too small and too sad for anyone to come close.

After a few minutes, Jacob came out in the hall and called her in for the bath. She stripped down as he laid out her towel on the old pink toilet seat. She stepped gingerly in the warm tub. The water steamed a bit and the mirror above the sink fogged. Jacob saw the bruises on her thighs and back and winced inside. They were about two inches across and long. Guess he must have used the belt this last time.

He turned to her and smiled though. Handing her the bottle of pink shampoo that smelled like strawberries, he helped her lie back and wet her hair. He lathered her up good, making faces and playing with the bubbles on her head. She giggled and he dunked her again to rinse. He handed her an old washrag and a bar of soap.

“Now make sure you wash behind your ears rabbit” he said as he left the room. He went back into the kitchen to cook a quick meal for his father. He made a pork chop and added a scoop of beans. He covered it all with tin foil and placed in the oven.

When he got back to the bathroom, the house was tidy and Janie was in her Rainbow Brite nightgown. He helped her brush her hair out and tucked her in.

“Ok, we’re all good. Don’t worry, sleep well and I’ll get you up in the morning.” He handed her a brown stuffed rabbit and turned on her night-light. He shut the door quietly and got ready for bed.

1 am. His clock read 1 am. He heard the truck rumble in the drive and then shut off. It became eerily quiet. He held his breath. In the dark he felt protected, like there was a cloud hiding him from the evil outside. The door shut. The door shut, it didn’t slam. That was good. Yes that was good. He heard his father open the oven and then finally turn on the TV. Jacob’s breathing was shallow but it slowed. He said one final prayer and closed his eyes.

***

Something was wrong with Janie. He was having a hard time waking her.

“Janie, Janie,” he shook her a little more harshly, “We have to go to school.” She murmured incoherently. She was clammy. Her head felt a little hot.

He covered her up well and headed into the living room. He didn’t see his father so he peeked out the window. Truck was gone. He must have went to work. He threw on his jeans and tucked and slipped on some shoes.

Ms. Tucker lived in the house across the street. She was a little older than her father, already with a few grandkids that came to stay on the weekends. She had been their babysitter since their mother passed three years ago. She was good to them.

He knocked on her door, hard. His anxiety had grown steady as he crossed the road to her house. She opened the nice oak door and smiled.

“Why Jacob, aren’t you late for school?” she opened the door further and motioned him in. “Do you need a ride? I can get my keys.” He stood there for a moment, a little unsure what to say. Then he just pointed back to his house.

“It’s Janie. I think she’s sick.” His voice quavered a bit and he waited for her to say or do something as she was the adult.

“It’s ok, I’ll just get my slippers and robe.” She turned around and came back in a flash looking a bit more proper for street crossing. She put her arms around his shoulders and asked, “What is wrong with her?”.

“She’s all warm and won’t wake up.” He was walking fast now, moving out of her grip and across the quiet street. Ms. Dandy Tucker raised her hem a bit and followed faster. Neither stopped until they were in the room. She sat down next to Janie.

“Janie honey, it’s Ms. Tucker. Can you hear me?” She placed her soft hand across her forehead and felt the heat. She was radiating it now.

“Jacob, go next door and get Mr. Bryant. Tell him we are going to the hospital.” Jacob, who never sat down burst into a run through out the hall and through the house. Jumping over the hedge, he continued on until he was pounding the door.

“Mr. Bryant, Mr. Bryant,” Jacob yelled. “Come quick!” He was frantic now. Sweat dripped down his face.

“Hold your horses kid.” An old man came out of the backyard holding a rake.

“My sister is sick. Ms. Tucker said to bring the car. She needs the hospital.” He breathed hard. He was obviously excited and so Mr. Bryant ran into the house to fetch his car keys. He followed Jacob into the house and carried his sister to the car. He laid her down across Ms. Tucker’s lap and they flew to the Pine Bayou ER.

“We need to call your father Jacob,” a young doctor said to him as he handed him a cup of water, “Your sister is quite ill.” He nodded, looking at the doctor, the two neighbors and then the phone at the nurse’s station. He told the doctor the number and walked away. He knew his father would be angry that he made such a fuss but they didn’t have a phone and Janie had been so sick. He had simply been scared.

***

His father arrived around 20 minutes later. He was covered in paint and his face had splotches of color all across it. He was calm. Too calm. Jacob knew this version of his father all to well. It was the one he showed to the public, to the grownups and neighbors. He was all doting charm. And this façade was a lie. What raged beneath it today? Was it anger or fear of having his children taken? Was he sure that the other parents and the doctors were judging him? Jacob thought the latter one sounded right.

Ms. Tucker sat him down in the waiting room and handed him some M&Ms.

“Your sister is very sick Jacob. She needs a surgery. The doctor says he thinks that her spleen, an important organ, has been injured. She has an infection and is losing a lot of blood. We need to be brave. She patted his knee and smiled at him.

“Can I see her for a minute?” He felt his heart sink. She must be so scared. He thought of her small body lying on white sheets watching her father pace like a panther in the room. She must also be terrified, of the surgery or their father he wasn’t sure. Maybe both he thought.

“Yes, but only for a minute. They are about to take her back.” Jacob nodded and walked down the hall quickly. He stopped for a moment outside the door, took a deep breath, pasted on a smile and walked over. She looked up at him gratefully. She had been waiting.

“Oh rabbit. What trouble you are.” He grinned and touched her arm “I bet when you get out, those nurses are going to bring you all the ice-cream you can eat. Lucky.” His father cleared his throat and gave him a warning look. “I’m going to sit with Ms. Tucker for a bit but I’ll be here when you get back.” He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “You’re going to be ok. Don’t be scared,” and left the room.

***

About an hour after his sister went into surgery two policemen showed up to speak with the doctor. He wondered if there had been an accident or something. But he continued watching TV and waiting. He hoped that it wouldn’t be much longer. The seats were hard and he was getting hungry. After that thought, he felt a bit selfish. His poor sister was getting cut on. He knew that it would hurt bad when she woke.

He wasn’t sure when or even how he fell asleep but one of the policemen he saw earlier was shaking him gently awake.

“Jacob?” he said. He was young and he had freckles across his nose. He focused on those and blinked his eyes rapidly. They were alone.

“Where’s Ms. Tucker? My dad? How’s Janie?” the stream of questions tumbled out of his sleep addled mouth.

“We’ll talk about that in a bit. But right now I’d like to have a chat just you and I ok?” He smiled warmly and sat down two seats over and pulled out a clipboard. “Would it be ok if I asked you a few questions?” He waited for an answer. Jacob thought this was weird because most people just began talking.

“Yea, sure I guess.” He looked around the empty room, feeling a strange sense of dread.

“Jacob, has your father ever hurt you or your sister?” He asked the question flatly. No emotion, no expectation. He sounded as if he was asking him if he liked meatloaf for dinner. He did not.

“What do you mean?” Jacob knew what he meant. He’d been asked this a couple of times, by different people. He never dared to answer truthfully.

“I mean does your father ever hit you or your sister? The truth is Jacob that the doctors noticed a lot of bruising on her Janie’s legs and back.” He softened his look. For a moment Jacob thought he would actually embarrass himself and start crying. Why did this guy have to be so nice sounding?

“Janie’s just clumsy. Really. Dad said her feet are bigger than her brains.” He looked away. The cop knew he was lying. Everyone always knew and somehow that made it worse.

“I see. Well I wish that were true. Here’s what I think Jacob. I think your dad gets a little angry sometimes, maybe when he’s been drinking? Maybe you and your sister get in the way a bit. Maybe he’s just grieving over your mother? Or maybe he’s just a bad man? You see now, I haven’t been a cop for long, but I’ve never seen injuries like that from a little girl tripping over her feet.” He waited, looking thoughtfully. Like he could will someone just open up a little, crack just the tiniest bit.

“Yea…” Jacob said, his voice cracking. “That’s probably more like it.” His eyes drifted to his shoes. Dirty white canvas sneakers sat silently on his feet. They made no judgment, had no eyes to carry truth nor tears.

“Jacob,” He gently moved his face so that their eyes met, “I have something to tell you. Your sister didn’t make it through the surgery. She died from her injuries.” His words came out in a gentle stream. But as they reached his ears, they turned into a roaring wave that overtook him. He shook his head. He must have heard wrong. He stood up to go but the Officer Reynolds pushed him back down. “I know this is hard Jacob. But you need to be strong now. Be strong for Janie. We need to know if you saw your father hit Janie in the last week.”

Jacob was numb, yet tears rolled and rolled. They were cold on his balled up fists. He wanted to run, to move, to scream, but he did nothing. He just sat there staring beyond the blue uniform in front of him.

A red-headed woman appeared in the door. She was pretty, a bit larger with folds of linen cloth draped around her.

“Jacob, may I come in? I’m Miss Humphries, a social worker. I’m going to help you now.” Jacob looked at Officer Reynolds and this Miss Humphries and wondered bitterly, Where were you last week?