A Soldier's Guide to Single Parenting

Saving my Bacon Part 7

I didn't like those people at the best of times and he may have seen it on my face, but I agreed anyway and shook his hand. I was hoping Simon would go back to his father before some left wing social worker started telling him it was okay to be queer. I thought it would be a step in the wrong direction. He needed someone to show him how to be a man not someone who would encourage him to wear make-up and high heels.

I had my own plan.

If I could talk to him alone, maybe I could persuade him to go back of his own accord. I could even go with him and talk to Darcy. Maybe have a quiet chat with him alone to make sure we were singing from the same song sheet. I was certain I would be able to lean on him enough to make him think twice before beating his kid again. A promise of like for like, usually did the trick.

We talked on the way home. He told me he had been staying with a friend who he knew from his church. A boy much older than him who had been expelled from the religion a couple of years earlier for using drugs. It made sense; his friend was one of those arrested.

When I mentioned to him I had spoken with his father. He began to get agitated.

"Look, Simon, I know about you and David, okay. I know what's been going on between you."

I could see him sinking lower into his seat. He was scared and wouldn't look at me.

"David told you?"

"Yes, he told me the morning after you left."

"Did you talk to my dad about it?"

"Yes, briefly. Look, I think it would be better if I were to take you home, Simon. Your father has calmed down a lot. It must have come as quite a shock to him. You should give him the chance to explain."

He began shifting in his seat, looking nervous and edgy. "You told the police that I could stay with you."

"And you can, if it doesn't work out. Why don't you give it a chance? I can talk to him if you want, make sure he knows not to hurt you."

"You don't understand at all, do you?"

"Simon, I'm trying to be reasonable here." I was trying to calm him down but he was becoming increasingly agitated.

"Is that where you're taking me?"

"That's where you live, Simon. Your dad's worried about you, he's—."

"NO!"

I was stopping at a red light but the car was still moving when Simon opened the passenger door and attempted to jump out. I yelled at him and grabbed his arm, pulling him back into his seat.

"What are doing? Are you crazy. You're gonna kill yourself!"

"I DON'T CARE. I WON'T GO BACK THERE!" He struggled to free himself from my grip and I had to slam on the brakes. There was a sharp squeal as the tires locked up on the hot road and we both lurched forward. He hit his head on the windscreen and the passenger door nearly flew off its hinges.

He sat back in his seat rubbing his head.

"Are you okay?" I leaned over to take a closer look but he pushed my hand away and tried again to leave. "Wait, I'm not gonna take you back there. I promise."

He looked panicked and scared. It shook me up too. Until then he had been quite pleasant. I wasn't prepared for such a sudden and extreme reaction, but it wasn't manufactured. It wasn't an act designed to fool me into taking him back to our house. It was genuine fear coming from a kid who would have jumped from a moving vehicle rather than face his father!