My Brother's Keeper Read online

"I've had enough of your attitude, your stupid looks, you're defying me in front of Simon. It is time you learned who was in charge around here!"

  She brought the bat down again, hitting him on the legs. With another swing, he rolled away as she hit him in the side. The strikes weren't devastating but hurt plenty. They came quickly, not allowing Bobby a chance to recover or defend himself other than rolling up into a ball. For the first time since he could remember, Bobby feared for his safety.

  She had swatted at him several more times before she stopped.

  "Look at me!" she screamed. "Look at me now!"

  He slid his arms away from his face and glanced up at her.

  "Move your fucking arms Bobby or so help me I'll shove this bat up your spoiled little ass!"

  He did as he was told finally looking directly at her. This woman standing over him was not his mother. Sure, she looked like her, but the woman who had been his mom was long gone. Between her anger, grief and the booze, the woman who was his mom had left the building. All that was left was a crazy woman who was determined to inflict as much pain and suffering as possible.

  He looked up to be met with one more swing of the bat, catching him in the middle of the forehead. He covered his head again as she laughed.

  "You're such an idiot. You think you're so smart? Don't you? You're twelve fucking years old! Do you want to be the parent? You have no idea! No idea at all! It wasn't good enough you and your brother act like such assholes that the only man I ever loved had to kill himself. I mean, you know your dad killed himself because of you two, right? You were a handful as it was. Then your brother comes along, and that was it. One of you is plenty, but both?" She laughed and shook her head.

  "No way. I'm amazed I haven't killed one or both of you by now. But don't tempt me." She walked out of the room and slammed the door shut. Bobby lay there holding his side long after she was gone. When he finally got his breath, he stood and hobbled to the door. His legs weren't broken, but they hurt like hell. He can imagine the bruises he'll have.

  Bobby had to get out of there, and that was all there was to it. Stumbling to the window, he slid it open and looked down. It looked like such a long way. He wondered if the fall would kill him. He doubted it, but it would hurt like hell. Not that it would matter, he was already hurting like hell, so he just needed to tough out this jump. If he didn't, she'd kill them both for sure.

  He climbed through the window and gripped the ledge, lowering himself down. As he clung to the ledge, he let himself dangle as far as he could before taking a deep breath, closing his eyes and letting go. He let his knees buckle as soon as he hit, rolling back onto his bottom. Pain shot through his knees and into his back, but nothing snapped or popped as he landed. He rolled for a bit before coming to a stop.

  He lay perfectly still for a minute before sitting up and looking himself over. As he looked up at the window, it didn't look as high up from the ground. He was still in one piece, which was something. Now he just needed to get help. If he got the police or Miss Martin to come here and find Simon stuffed in that box, they'd arrest his mom for sure. They might send them both to a home, but it would be better than here.

  He hobbled across the street to Mrs. Mosier's house. It was early evening, but there were lights on at the house. She was a nice old lady who would sometimes bring over cookies and lemonade for them. Her husband died years ago too, so she lived all by herself. Simon used to like going over there to play, but as his fits would get worse, Mrs. Mosier couldn't take it and stopped having them over. Though, she'd still come by and visit. He hoped she'd believe him and call the police, or someone.

  Bobby limped across the street and rang the doorbell. He waited for a minute, but there was no answer. She had to be home. She was old and didn't even drive. Where else would she be? He rang it again, and finally the door swung open.

  "Bobby? What's going on? Are you ok?" She looked him up and down as she opened the screen door.

  "I think I am Mrs. Mosier, but I'm worried about Simon," he said.

  "Why? What is wrong?"

  "I think my mom is going to kill him."

  Chapter 17

  Bobby sat on Mrs. Mosier's couch while a cop and a child protective services worker listened to his story. The cop was tall and lanky, looking like he raided his dad's closet for his uniform. His hair was in a military high and tight and he had a pair of Oakley's clipped to his shirt pocket. The social worker was a short and pudgy woman with a pair of thick-rimmed hipster glasses. Bobby told them all about the footlocker, the blisters on Simon, the locking him in his room, the baseball bat and everything else he could think of. In the past, he was afraid to speak up about his mother, but he decided now was the time. These people would help, they had too.

  "Didn't I arrest you a few weeks ago?" the cop asked. The truth was, Bobby didn't remember who the cop was who'd arrested him; it could have been this guy. He already had a bad feeling about how this whole thing would go.

  "I guess so," he said. "I just got out of juvie."

  "Right. I know I've seen you around. You've been in trouble plenty of times. Now you expect us to believe this wild story? Is that your excuse on why you're such a social defect?"

  "Bobby, look. I believe that you believe what you are saying," the social worker said. "Unfortunately, I can't just have you and your brother taken away without proof. So I'm going to need to talk to your mom."

  This concerned him greatly.

  "What? She's not going to admit anything. She's crazy. She thinks we wanted our dad to kill himself. She hates both of us. She's going to kill Simon for sure if we leave him with her."

  "You need to watch your mouth kid." The cop said. "Let us take care of it. Better yet, I'm going to go get your mom now. We'll get to the bottom of this real quick." He turned and headed outside and across the street. Bobby couldn't believe what was happening. The social worker just stood there awkwardly looking around and shifting until the officer returned with his mom. She'd pulled her hair back into a ponytail and cleaned up a bit since his last encounter with her.

  "Hi, we're so sorry to disturb you." The social worker said.

  "There you are! How many times have I told you not to sneak out of your room like that? Did you jump out again? One of these times you're going to hurt really yourself."

  She looked at the officer and shook her head.

  "I'm so sorry," his mom said. "What has he done now?"

  "Ma'am, he hasn't done anything." The social worker said. "He came to us with some accusations of abuse."

  "Abuse? What abuse?"

  The social worker looked at Bobby and nodded.

  "Go ahead and tell her what you told me," she said.

  Was this really happening? Bobby realized he was only twelve, but there had to be some other way to investigate. Like, didn't they take her into a room and question her? Or maybe go and actually check on Simon? He did what he was told and explained the whole story again. His mom stood there and feigned shock, confusion, and outrage as he spoke; it was something she was good at. No matter what she said or did within their home, she always managed to appear weak and pathetic to outsiders. Someone no one would think was capable of hurting anyone.

  Once he finished, she stood there and shook her head.

  "You see? You see what I put up with?" his mom said. "I'm a single mom working my ass off to raise a special needs boy and this ungrateful brat, and this is how he treats me. He's all banged up from climbing out of his damn window!" She threw her hands in the air.

  "How is Simon." The social worker asked. "Is there a chance I can see him? Just to check on him? Then I'll close the file on this."

  "I just got him down for his nap. He was having one of his fits. He has autism. Took me forever but he's finally asleep. I really don't want to risk waking him again, or none of us will get any sleep later."

  "I understand," the social worker took a breath and wrote on her clipboard. I guess I can come by in a few days just to double check, but it'
s as I thought, this isn't unusual. I do apologize for taking up your time. Bobby, you can go home with your mom."

  "What? That's it?" Bobby said. "You just take her word for it?"

  "Well she's right, you have a history of getting into fights and trouble. Kind of hard to take anything you say at face value. You look pretty healthy to me, no unusual marks for a twelve-year-old boy. I suggest you work on figuring out these issues with your mom instead of making up terrible accusations. She is really trying to take care of you."

  "You got to be kidding! I'm not going back over there. We have to get Simon! Look in the house, check her room! Simon is stuffed in a box up there."

  "Kid look," the cop said. "You can go home with your mom, or I can haul you back to juvie. I'm going to guess you're on probation since you just got out. You want to get arrested again?"

  Bobby hung his head and walked toward the door. Without looking back, he walked through it and toward the house. His stomach churned in knots as he imagined what his mom would do now that she knows he ratted on her. He heard the adults talking behind him before his mom caught up to him. As they reached the door to their house, she bent down and grabbed the back of his neck. Putting her mouth inches from his ear, she whispered.

  "Now you're going to learn what abuse is."

  Chapter 18

  Nadine couldn't believe Bobby ran to that old hag across the street for help as if that old bat could save him. What would make him think, the police or anyone else had any business sticking their nose into how she raised her kids? Talk about betrayal. Obviously, the recent lessons she'd doled out weren't sinking in, so she was going to have to take some additional steps.

  When she'd brought Bobby back inside, she whacked him in the back of the legs with the baseball bat. It was hilarious to see. She had caught him totally by surprise. He let out a yelp as he tumbled face down onto the floor. Once he was down, she used a plastic zip tie to secure his hands behind his back. Now he lies on the bed with his hands bound and duct tape over his mouth.

  "You comfy sweetheart?" she asked him. "I hope so. I have quite a show for you. I don't want you to miss anything."

  He struggled and fought, but wasn't moving at all.

  "Good, good." she said. Nadine walked to the closet and took out one of her husband's old belts. It had just been hanging in there for years, may as well put it to some use. She opened the footlocker and dragged Simon out. He was shaking and heaving in short, rapid breaths, but at least he didn't scream. She stood Simon just a few feet from the bed and ripped off his pajama shirt and bottoms. He was now standing in just his underwear.

  His underwear was damp and yellow. The little fucker must have pissed himself again. She wasn't even going to worry about it for now.

  "Ok, Bobby. This, apparently, is the only way you'll learn not to fuck with me. You don't seem to care what I do to you. So maybe this will get your attention."

  She reared back with the belt and swatted him across the back. The belt made a loud crack against his skin, sounding like a gunshot. Simon's eyes went wide as he screamed so loud Nadine thought her eardrums would burst. He turned and looked at her in shock, but she reared back and cracked him again with it. Simon tried to move away, but she grabbed him by the hair and held him steady as she repeatedly lashed him across the back.

  Huge red welts lined his back as he screamed, kicked and struggled but was helpless against her grip and the belt. Looking up at Bobby's eyes were wide as he kicked and thrashed, trying to free himself. She smiled, as she turned back to Simon, happy to see her lesson was sinking in. Simon screamed and kicked at her as she whacked him several more times before tossing the belt aside.

  Simon was shaking and screaming as she picked him up and carried him over to Bobby. Holding him in front of Bobby, she spun Simon around so he could take in all his new injuries.

  "You like that Bobby? You see what you did to your brother? You do stupid shit, and Simon is going to pay. You got it?"

  Bobby just glared at her from the bed.

  "I need an answer. If you don't, then that's going cost you another lesson." She held up the belt and smiled as if to demonstrate.

  Bobby nodded as she sat Simon back down and walked him back to the footlocker. Before putting him back inside, she pulled his underwear off him. Simon continued to scream nonstop when she shoved the soiled undies into his mouth. He turned and looked at his mom in horror, trying to pull it out, but she put her hand up to him.

  "Don't you dare take those out. You want me to tie you up like Bobby?"

  Simon shook his head frantically.

  "Good." She shoved him back into the box and closed the lid, securing it. She walked over to Bobby and grabbed him off the bed and walked him back to his room, tossing him onto his bed.

  "You can stay like that for a while. Good luck jumping out your window all tied up. What happens in this family is our business and ours alone. You think the cops would actually listen to you? That was the funniest thing. Every cop in town knows what a little shithead you are. I could skin Simon alive, and they wouldn't believe you." She said as she closed the door and headed downstairs. In the kitchen, she pulled a bottle of red wine from the cupboard and poured herself a glass. She wasn't even sure what kind of wine it was and didn't care. She always bought whatever's cheap, as long as it got her drunk.

  She headed back into the living room and turned on the TV. As the wine gradually took hold, numbing her. She wished she could feel like this all the time. Why did things have to be so difficult? Why did all the other moms she knows seem so happy with such cute and fun kids? What had she done wrong? Once she finished the glass, she went and got the bottle and brought it into the living room with her.

  The TV was more for background noise, as she didn't even pay attention to whatever was on. All she could tell was it was a stupid reality show following some trashy family around. She sure wished she'd get a TV deal like that. She'd let them follow her around. Hell, she'd donate the boys to a reality show. Though, she wasn't sure how good a TV show about a screaming six-year-old would make for an hour. Someone would watch it, she was sure.

  Before she knew it, she'd killed off the whole bottle. The TV didn't even make sense anymore as she lay back feeling the room spinning slightly, but it wasn't a sickening spinning, it was more like a rocking, that's it. Like a giant cradle rocking her to sleep. She'd fallen asleep like this many nights. Each night she prayed not to wake up again, but she always did.

  Chapter 19

  Bobby tried to hold still, ignoring the burning in his wrists. She'd used one of the plastic zip ties they use on trash bags. He climbed off the bed and walked over to his desk in the corner. With his back turned, he pulled out one of the drawers and dug through until he found the scissors. It took him a few tries as he kept dropping them onto the desk. Finally, he was able to cut the plastic tie free.

  His hands tingled as blood rushed back into his fingers. He pulled the tape off his mouth and walked toward the door. She didn't secure it this time. He figured she didn't expect him to escape the plastic ties. That or she was too drunk or angry to think about it. He slipped through the door and down the hallway, but everything was quiet.

  The TV could be heard from upstairs. He careful moved down the stairs so as not to make any noise. Once he was halfway down, he looked around the house and saw his mom passed out on the couch with a bottle of wine resting in her lap. She was snoring loudly as a string of drool ran from her mouth clear to the floor.

  He went back up the stairs and into her room. Throwing the door open, he pulled out the footlocker and found Simon. He was awake but quiet.

  "Simon!" Bobby whispered. "Can you hear me? Simon!"

  Simon was staring off into space, moaning and shivering, but wouldn't speak. Bobby pulled him out of the box and carried Simon into his room. Lying him on the bed, he grabbed one of Simon's Power Rangers shirts and a pair of sweat pants and finally got some shoes and socks on him. Simon was still shivering and wouldn't talk.<
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  Once he was dressed, Bobby picked him up and began down the stairs. He quietly crept past their passed out mom and into the kitchen. Bobby pushed the kitchen door open and sped up once he hit the sidewalk. He had no idea where to go, but he knew the cops weren't an option.

  He walked for a few blocks and finally sat Simon down.

  "Simon, I need you to help me. I can't keep carrying you. You need to walk. Can you hear me?"

  Simon just stood there looking out of it and still making his moaning sound.

  "Simon, please? We need to find somewhere to hide. Somewhere they won't find us. Where we can be safe from mom."

  Simon kept looking around but was standing on his own ok. Bobby took him by the hand and kept walking. They headed into the park, and there weren't many people around which Bobby was gladly accepted. He had an idea. They reached the large woods on the south side of the park. Bobby found a trail he used to walk through when he'd play at this park. The past year or so he didn't play as much.

  They wandered the trail for a while when there were some voices calling out from behind him.

  "Look who is here!" one of them said. "Bobby and his retard brother. Taking the retard out for a walk? Where's your leash?"

  Several more boys began laughing as they came out from behind the trees. They were wearing camo pants and jackets while carrying paintball guns.

  "Leave us alone," Bobby said. "I'm not in the mood. Simon's sick."

  "Yeah, he's sick. He's a fucking retard." One of the boys said.

  "Yeah. You said that already. He's not retarded, he's autistic. He can't help it. Just leave us alone." Bobby started to walk, but one of them stepped in front of him.

  "You don't seem so tough now," another of the boys said. Another walked over and grabbed Simon, throwing him to the ground. He stood over Simon, held up his paintball gun and fired, striking Simon in the forehead with a paintball. Simon screamed as Bobby ran over and shoved the kid, knocking them both over.