The Boy Who Cried Wolf

Suspicious Minds

Teddy sat at the kitchen table in the rectory as Fr. Charles moved a flashlight slowly from one eye to the other. There was a first aid kit that appeared to be from the 1960s in front of him, which Fr. Charles was pulling random items out of. Teddy fought the urge to squint as the light glared in his eyes, for fear of making Fr. Charles think there was something wrong with his head.

"Now just follow the light with your eyes," The man said. Teddy did as he was told. Fr. Charles turned off the light and set it down on the table with a sigh. "It looks like you don't have a concussion. —But if you start getting headaches, you tell me right away."

"Of course," Teddy nodded. He didn't understand all the fuss. He was forgetful, sure, but he wasn't a bad kid. Teddy was a rule follower, and a very careful person. He hadn't gotten hurt because of carelessness, but because of outside circumstances and it bothered him that Fr. Charles assumed otherwise.

"I just..." Fr. Charles ran a stressed hand through his thinning gray hair and closed his eyes to try and calm himself. "I'm trying to be reasonable, but I just don't understand why you ran away without telling me. I mean, this is a good home.... Not traditional but I— Sr. Matilda and I —have worked very hard to make this a good home for a child.

"I wasn't running away," Teddy countered. "And I'm not a child anymore."

"Then what were you doing? Where were you going?"

"I was... I just needed to clear my head. I'm sorry."

"The Lord detests lying lips, but he delights in people who are trustworthy," Fr. Charles quoted.

Proverbs, Teddy knew. "I.. I was picking flowers, and I got distracted, I lost track of time!"

"What for?"

"For– For Damien, to give to Julie," Teddy cracked. He was a horrible liar.

"Damien sent you out?" Fr. Charles raised an eyebrow.

"No!" Teddy insisted. "I went out on my own.... He– he didn't know I was going."

"He didn't?" Fr. Charles asked with an incredulous look that suggested he didn't believe the boy. "Then why did you go?"

"Because.. Because he's my friend!" Teddy exclaimed. "And I felt guilty that he was going to have to watch me all night."

"Why didn't you tell me first?" The man asked.

"Because you wouldn't have let me go. I'm seventeen years old, I'm basically an adult now.. I just... I didn't want you to worry, because everything is alright."

"It's not alright Theodore! You've got a giant cut on the back of your head! That's not alright."

The two looked at each other in a standoff neither wanting to relent to the others. It was a loving relationship,but not one without differences of opinion.

"It's just a scratch," Teddy mumbled to himself.

Fr. Charles moved around to the back of Teddy's head and placed a wet paper towel on the cut, cleaning off the dirt. Once the dried blood was gone the cut appeared smaller, it was still a good size gash.

"What if you'd gotten a concussion? What if you'd become disoriented or confused out there?" His voice quieted itself and he shifted uncomfortably. "We never could have found you."

As he spoke the man retrieved a brown bottle of hydrogen peroxide from under the sink. He placed a cotton swab on one end and wet the bottle before placing it gently on the back of Teddy's head.

Teddy hissed at the sting, but continued anyway "—Well... Damien did, and I'm sure I would have been alright even so."

"I just don't understand what you're looking for out there," Fr. Charles shook his head.