Seasons of Ferne, Summer's Passion

Chapter 24

"What do you mean?" Evelyn prodded gently, not wanting him to stop. Curious though she was, Evelyn also knew from personal experience what holding back big things did to a person, and she could sense this was something he'd been holding back for a long time.

"I was just a kid, but even then I knew he was into bad things. I do know he was into drugs long before I was born, but never the really hard stuff, you know? But about a year before it happened, things at home began to get bad. They both got really thin, stopped showering, wore the same clothes for weeks, that kind of stuff. Mom and dad would leave me alone longer and longer, sometimes they'd be gone for a couple of days and I'd have to fend for myself. Then when they were home it was like I wasn't even there, unless dad was mad about something. Then he'd just take it out on me. Nothing really bad at first, mostly a lot of yelling and putting me in my room. But in the last couple months before that night he would hit me or throw things at me. It's when I began to hide."

"What about your mom? You said she wasn't as bad?"

"Not like him, no. But she may as well not even been there. Even when she was home she wasn't home, if you get my meaning. I can remember a few nights when dad was hitting me, I'd cry for her to come stop him, pull him off of me, but she'd just sit there staring at the wall. She did the same thing when it happened, just stared at the wall like nobody else was even there."

Brandon stopped talking again, leaving the air thick with his own swelling emotions. After a few moments Evelyn finally dared to break the silence. "What happened that night?"

"It was a drug deal that went bad." He said, wiping tears away. "A guy came to the house looking for drugs, just a teenager I guess. He had a red shirt on, little bit of hair on his face, heck I can even remember being jealous about his baseball cap. I guess he owed dad money but didn't have it, just wanted whatever drugs dad was selling. He threatened to call the cops on dad if he didn't give him something, said he'd bring money when he had it. The worst thing was I remember dad smiling when he let him in and closed the door. I was hiding behind the couch because of all the yelling, but I peeked out just as dad picked up my baseball bat from beside the door and hit him in the back of the head. The guy fell over but dad just kept hitting him, over and over again until he stopped moving."

Brandon trailed again, momentarily too choked up to continue. Evelyn didn't say anything, couldn't say anything. She just took his hand, offering what little comfort she was able.

"The thing is," Brandon continued, "I've always felt like what happened to that guy was my fault."

"Oh my God, Brandon," Evelyn interrupted, her shock both evident and genuine. "How could you possibly feel that way? You were just a kid!"

Brandon shook his head. "Yeah, that much I know. It's just that, for weeks before it happened teachers at school kept asking me if anything was wrong at home. Ask me about my clothes, ask me about the few bruises they were able to see. They kept asking and asking, but I was always too scared to tell the truth. I always lied for my dad, always told them everything was alright and I was just a clumsy kid who didn't like to shower or change. I was terrified that if I told the truth dad would get really mad at me and things would get worse.

"Now, I can't help but wonder what would have happened if I had just been brave enough to say something. If police or anyone else had come into our house they would have found the drugs, and that guy would still be alive. I knew my dad was getting bad. I knew he was turning into a monster, and I didn't do a thing to try to stop it."

"But Brandon, you were just a little boy..."

Brandon smiled at her sadly. "I know, Evelyn, believe me I know. I've accepted that what happened wasn't my fault, I really have. I just don't think I'll ever be able to let go of that little shred of guilt that still tells me I should have spoke up. Even a weak little boy can prevent a disaster, he just needs to be brave enough to take whatever actions he can. Even if that action is as small as telling a teacher he's scared. One thing I do know, I'll never do it again. I'll never let anyone else I love go follow a path they won't be able to find their way back from. If I can step in, if I can do anything, you better believe I'm going to do it."