The Boy

Five

Boy

It was Friday, and my back was feeling a little better. The whelps were still there, but they didn't sting as much. Just hurt when touched or if I stretch too far. I haven't seen Katy for a few days. She's probably avoiding me. But what do I care? I don't, I lied to myself. Truth be told, I ached to see her. Even more, I wanted to know what was going on in that pretty head of hers. That would likely never happen. She's so confusing.

Benny's been on my ass the past couple days. He's found something wrong with everything I did. I was getting frustrated. I've learned that recently I feel my rage built up inside of me. It's like a thunder cloud rumbling in my chest, waiting to strike lightning. But I can't do anything but hold it in. I feel it bubble up when Benny gets in my face and chews my ass out. Before, I felt dreadful. Unworthy. Worthless. Scared. While I'm still scared, the rest is replaced with suppressed anger waiting to storm down. I don't dare let any of it show to Benny. I'd definitely be sorry.

John is almost just as bad, but I don't see him very often. Usually, I just see him when I'm in trouble. Other than that, I may see him talking to Benny or one of the other workers. Sometimes I wonder how John took me in without someone listing me as a missing person. I scoff. Who would even miss me? Uncle Clyde. I shook that thought away as fast as it came. I hope I never see that motherfucker again. Or maybe I did want to see him again. That way, I can take all this anger and use it to beat his face in for all he has done to me. But that was another thing that likely wouldn't happen.

I'd figured out that when Daddy didn't come home from work by nine o'clock, he wasn't coming at all. And that meant Uncle Clyde would be over soon after. I'd started hiding from him, so when he got there, he had to search for me. Of course, with his sick mind, he thought of it as a game. He loved the chase. I just wanted to prolong the activities I'd be forced to participate in. I'd played his game for far too long, and I hated it. He found me in every hiding spot so far, so I thought all day about where I could hide that he wouldn't find me. I wasn't allowed in Daddy's room. He made it clear that I am not to step over that threshold. But I was desperate. Uncle Clyde knew I wasn't allowed in there as well, so maybe he won't even check in here thinking I would never disobey Daddy. I went in, and memories of Momma hit me hard. I tried to shake it off. I couldn't cry over it right now. I needed to hide. I opened Daddy's closet and carefully climbed up, pulling myself up onto the top shelf. There were old extra blankets folded up on the shelf that I stacked in front of me as I curled up into a ball against the wall. Then, I waited.

I don't know how long I'd waited 'til I heard Uncle Clyde's voice singing for me to come out, searching for me like I'm his prey. I heard him walking around the house, searching under beds, inside closets, behind furniture, down in the cabinets. He hadn't stepped a foot in Daddy's room.

"Did you look in the laundry room?" Who was he talking to?

"Yeah. Didn't see him," a man said. There's another person here. Uncle Clyde brought home a friend to help torture me. I tried to control my breathing. My chest felt tight, and I suddenly started getting sweaty. I was scared.

"What about in here?" The mystery man's voice was way too close.

"That's Randall's room. The kid knows better than to go in there." He told the man. Then to me, "Come out here, boy. I admit, you have a damn good hiding spot today. But I'm out of patience now. So, come on out."

I could tell he was in the hallway. I didn't budge. It was quiet for a few moments. "Boy! I said get out here!" His amusement was far gone.

Now I was starting to tremble. I wanted to cry about the predicament I was in. He would eventually find me. He always does. And he will punish me for it.