A Small Snippet.. Gives Some Detail As To Where Its Going

“Damn, Shy! You’re a pro!” He said as I eased it into fourth gear, turning onto the highway. I laughed. I had discovered that a CD player had recently been installed, so I was introducing Benny to music that didn’t include nasal tones and banjos. He really liked The Fray and Barenaked Ladies, which didn’t surprise me at all.

The air conditioner didn’t work, so we had the windows rolled down and just rocked out. After awhile, we stopped at a gas station to fill up and to grab a snack. We shared a bag of beef Jerky, and drank Slurpies in the truck bed, just laughing and joking.

Soon though, I brought up a dreaded subject. “So I heard what happened last night…” I left that hanging for a second. Benny just looked at me. “Well not everything; mostly loud voices and a crash.” I looked at his black eye.

“I just hate him,” Benny said bitterly. His sudden outburst took be by surprise. “When he gets drunk, which is almost every night, he hurts us. Anyone, depending on who’s closest. It usually ends up being my mom, and I just can’t stand to watch it, you know? She doesn’t deserve it, but she won’t leave him. I don’t understand. We could live by ourselves. I’ve tried to explain it to her, but she just brushes it off, putting more make-up on, or buying a shirt with longer sleeves.”

He took a breath, and then explained even more. “Sometimes it’s one of the little kids, Katie or Weston. Weston is only two, but he’s been knocked on his ass more than a few times. One swipe is all it takes, and then he’s on the ground. Once his head started bleeding, and mom wasn’t doing anything, so I yelled at him, got in his face. That’s how I got this scar.” He pointed to the one above his eyebrow. “Hank came after me with a hammer. I was stupid though because I ran into a door. He didn’t even get me with the hammer, but a door does a lot of damage.” He laughed at this, and then looked at me.

I was dumbstruck. I may have been neglected, but I had never been beaten. “Awe, Ben… Have you ever said anything? Told anyone? You could take him to jail so easily...”

“No,” he said darkly, “and you can’t either, okay? Please, just… Help me…” the last part was so soft I almost missed it. Then, he was crying. I did it instinctively. I wrapped my arms around him and just let him cry.

“I just feel like it’s my job to protect everyone, you know?” we were on the way home. It was only 2:30, but we didn’t want to be late.

“No, I don’t really know, truthfully. I do know that it’s a heavy burden to carry on your own. From now on, I want you to be able to talk to me. Deal? I’m here to stay, whether you like it or not,” he laughed and I reached over to ruffle his hair.

“Okay, deal. But I don’t want you to get involved. It’s not your mess.”

“You bet I’m going to get involved; I can’t just watch this happen,” I looked at him with a hard expression. “Ben, we have got to get you guys out of this somehow.”

“I tried once,” he looked out the window.

“What happened?”

“Well, the Sheriff came to the house two years ago, when I put in my report. They checked it all out, and Hank brushed it off. I’m sure being friends with the guy didn’t hurt either. When they left, I got the worst beating of my life.” He sighed and I didn’t say a word.

He took his shirt off and I saw a trail of scars along his side. “He sent mom to take the rest of the kids to the park, and she had left the oven on. While he was beating me, he pushed me against the oven, and it was so hot. I started screaming, so he held me there…” He put his shirt back on, and looked at me again, his eyes heavy with sadness.

I didn’t say anything, and with effort, I kept the look of pity I knew he would hate off my face. Instead I just slipped my hand in his and concentrated on my driving.

After a few minutes of just music, he shook my hand off and looked at me. “You don’t have to help,” he said, slightly annoyed. I stared at him confused. “With ‘my chores’,” he explained.
“Oh yeah,” I laughed, “yes I do. What are we doing anyway?” He rolled his eyes, making me laugh again. “Just consider me a leech, I mean you have two whole years of me, and think about it… We’ll be at the same high school,” I widened my eyes, and he laughed.

“Well mostly just mucking, and milking, and collecting eggs and keeping the animals in check,” he started, then seeing my perplexed expression, he went into more detail. “Mucking is cleaning out the horse stalls, and then milking the cows, and basically taking care of all the animals.”

“Oh, that doesn’t sound too bad. Can you ride the horses?” I asked, excited at the prospect.

“Duh. What do you think they are for?” He said, like I was a simpleton.