When I joined the case at 47 County Street, I didn't know what to expect. As a social worker, I see all kinds of screwed up things from child abuse, to children abusing their parents. Yet, when I got the reports from County Street, I wasn't expecting much. The initial letters we received were from a neighbor describing loud noises, shouting in the late hours of the night, and a teenager storming off from the household on a bike last winter just after the sound of glass shattering from inside the house.
This apparently had been going on for a few years.
Still, something about the way the cop came in on Tuesday white as a sheet, asking about the case, probably should have at least somewhat set off some alarms. I was ignorant.
There I stood, in the living room of the Bedford family home on County Street, beside myself as the story unfolded. Dan, the father of the three children spoke first with tears in his eyes.
"I'm so glad somebody called on us, my wife and I would have never had the courage to contact anyone about this."
This struck me as odd, seeing as most people don't want the authorities or social services knocking at their door.
"Can I offer you some water? Coffee maybe?" That's what Valarie, Dan's wife asked me in a hushed voice.
They both looked exhausted, and unbathed, like they'd just been stranded on an island for weeks and were just rescued by me. They seemed indifferent to their surroundings. Calm at the moment, but the tension was kinetic.
"No thank you," I passed up the offer, I wasn't comfortable accepting anything from the couple yet.
"Tell me, as we need to get started here, what are your children's names, how old are they?"
I already had this info, but I needed to survey how these two react to questioning. Valerie answered me.
"Well, Damien is 17. He dropped out of school last week, but he's not here today. And there's my little sweetheart, Kelsey. She's 11. She's with her grandmother for the weekend."
"It's Wednesday m'am."
"Oh right, I'm sorry. She's with her Auntie. I lose track, since they're never here anymore. She'll be home soon though."
Her husband stared at her intently, almost not staring at her at all. More like through her. I took note of all of this.
"I'm sorry, just remember you're being recorded for this interview. I apologize If I'm mistaken, but I have on file here that you have a third child."
They both stared cooly into my eyes. A chill ran up my spine, and my left leg went numb. This is a feeling I would get as a child if I ever made a joke that offended someone, except now in thirty four. I suddenly felt out of place.
"Jessica." They both spoke unison.
I relaxed slightly.
"Jessica. Okay, yes I have that here. Seven years old?"
They nodded together. Their faces twisted into an uncomfortable expression, both suddenly wringing their hands. Dan glanced over at the staircase to his left, I guess to silently signal as to Jessica's whereabouts.
