Soooo two chapters in one day, is that a record for me? I wrote this chapter and was almost in tears. <3
Beckham O’Neil
I was seven and beyond excited to attend my first birthday party at the neighborhood pool. My father had packed my towel, goggles, present and sunscreen into a bag and handed it to me. “Now, Beckham, make sure, whatever you do, don’t take off your shirt.” I nodded and he smacked me on the head. “Did you hear me?”
“Y-y-yes Sir.” I whimpered. “Don’t take off my shirt. I understand, Daddy.”
He smiled, “Good, now go.” He opened my door for me. The pool was only down the street so he wasn’t too worried about me getting lost. Not that he would be if it was miles away. I walked there by myself. The street was quiet so I hummed to myself to make up for the silence.
When I got to the pool, I was greeted warmly by Carter’s mother. She was a nice lady, and was the reason I had been invited. Carter never like me and would always beat me up on the play ground, like I didn’t get that enough at home. I handed her the present from my bag. “I got Carter the new Nintendo game. It looks like a lot of fun.”
She smiled at me sweetly and took the gift. “I’m sure Carter will love it. All the kids are already in the pool, so if you want to set your stuff over here and hop on in the pool you can.”
I smiled, “Thank you.” I set my stuff down where she told me and pulled out my goggles and strapped them around my head.
I started to run off, but Carter’s mom called me back. “Wait, Beckham. You can’t go swimming in your shirt. You’ll ruin it.”
I shook my head, “That’s okay. I’d rather keep my shirt on.”
She smiled, “Why? Are you shy about yourself?”
I shook my head, “No, Daddy just says to keep a shirt on.”
She knitted her eyebrows together in worry, “Why would he say that?”
I paused. I shouldn’t have said that. “So, so, so that way I won’t get sunburned.”
She nodded, “Oh. Okay.” I started walking off. “Beckham, wait.”
I turned back around again, “Yes Ma’am?”
She held up a bottle of sunscreen. “I’ve got some sunscreen you can use. I just don’t want that shirt to stretch out.”
I shook my head, “No thank you. I’ll be fine.”
Carter’s mom grabbed my arm and pulled be over to a bench where she sat down. “Beckham, take off your shirt.”
I crossed my arms, “No Ma’am.”
“Is there something that your father doesn’t want me to see?”
I shook my head, “No Ma’am.”
She raised her eyebrows, “Then what’s the problem?”
I gulped. “I’m insecure about my body. I feel fat.”
She rolled her eyes, “Beckham, this is serious.”
I looked her in the eyes, “Please.”
That’s when I had confirmed her fears. I saw in her eyes that something clicked and she had what she needed to be justified. She spun me around so fast I didn’t see it coming. I felt her pull the back of my shirt up and gasp. “Oh my, are those, burns?” She let my shirt to fall. I reluctantly turned back around. “Beckham, did your father do this to you?”
I had a hard time swallowing, but I didn’t make a signal sound. I must have given something away in my eyes because she took my hand, looked at one of the other moms and said that she’d be right back. Carter’s mom took me to the front gate of the pool away from the other guests. “Beckham, if there is something wrong we need to tell people.”
I shook my head, “Nothing is wrong.”
She took a deep breath and let it out. “Beckham, did your father make those marks on your back?”
I averted my eyes away from hers. “I still love him.”
“Sweetie, you have to tell me what’s going on. It’s not right for a father to treat his son this way.”
“He loves me.”
“I understand, but it’s still not right. I promise you that the only way it gets better if you tell me what’s going on.”
I whispered my answer, “No.” Before I knew it I had taken off running. I ran as fast as I could without looking back, no matter how much Carter’s mom called out to me.
I was out of breath when I stopped to hide behind a backyard fence. Hot tears ran down my face. I hadn’t notice I was crying until I stopped running. My breaths got short and heavy as the tears poured down faster. I was scared and unsure of what my father would do to me now that people found out.
Back then I didn’t realize that what he was doing was wrong. I loved him, and I prayed everyday he wouldn’t be so sad. I had avoided all the questions when I would show up to school with a black eye or bruised arms, which was rare. My father was smarter than that most of the time. He mostly burned my back so people wouldn’t notice, broke a few ribs, things he could hide from every one else.
I could hear sirens and people calling my name in the distance. I didn’t move an inch. A pair of feet approached me. “Hey there, Buddy. Are you Beckham?” I slowly nodded, not bothering to look up at him. He crouched down to my level. “Do you want to come with me?” I looked up at him. His face was kind and trusting. I noticed the police badge.
I woke up sweating. I rubbed my eyes, trying to get the memory out of my head, but it was all I could see. I looked over at the clock. It was four in the morning. I waited a few minutes, making sure I couldn’t hear Jane or Paul. I didn’t want to wake them up again. I couldn’t hear any thing and got up. My throat was dry and in need of a glass of water.
I slowly walked down the hallway towards the kitchen, trying my best to not wake up Paul and Jane. I heard the faucet being turned on and off. I turned the corner to see Jane in her nightgown. The only light on in the house was the small lamp beside the table. “Beck, what are you doing up so late?”
I shrugged, “I couldn’t sleep.”
She took a swig of water, “Me neither.”
I took a glass out of the cabinet and filled it with water from the sink. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”
She looked off into the distance, “I had a bad dream.”
I took a drink of water, “Same.” I sat down at the kitchen table and she followed.
“What was your dream about?”
I stared off at the table. “It was more of a memory.” I paused. “It was when people found out about my father.” I paused again, building the strength to divulge further information. “I was a birthday part at the pool and one of the mom’s insisted that I take my shirt off, and one thing led to another.”
I felt something squeeze my hand, I looked up to notice Jane had been holding it the whole time.
“I’m sorry about your father.”
“Me too.” I sighed, “What was your dream about?”
She squeezed my hand again, and I squeezed back for support. “Mine was a memory too.” She was no longer looking at me, but through me, as if she too was living through the memory again. “Paul and I had a son.” She took a deep quivering breath. “His name was Henry. He was nine when he, when he passed away.” I squeezed Jane’s hand. I saw a tear roll down her cheek.
“I’m so sorry, Jane.”
She smiled softly. “Thank you, Beck.” She wiped the tear from her eye. “It’s been a few years, but some days the care wreck creeps up on me, and I can’t help but break down.” She sniffled a little, “You know, you’re the first foster kid that we’ve had.”
I smiled, “You’re my fifteenth foster mom. Unless you count Sharona, but I don’t.” She gave me a confused look as if asking who Sharona was. “It’s a long story for another night.”
She smiled, “You know, Beck, we could have chosen anybody to take in.”
”Really?”
She nodded, “Yes.”
“Why did you choose me then?”
She shrugged, “Carroll told us about you. She said that you were just a troubled boy looking for a place to stay for a year. At first Paul said he didn’t want another boy, but I convinced him that every child deserves a chance to start over and that you were poster child for kids who need second chances.” She smiled, “Of course he caved.”
I smiled. “Thank you Jane.”
She smiled, “No, Beck. Thank you.”
“For what?”
I saw a twinkle in her eye, “You have given Paul and me so much joy. He is so happy to have a son that he can bond with again.” She leaned in, “Even though I know you don’t really like football all that much.” She gave a short laugh, “You have brought love back to us.”
I smiled. “Thank you for giving me a second chance. I never really got that until now.”
She patted my hand, “You are more than welcome, Beckie.” I gave her a look and she smiled, “What you don’t like that?”
I shook my head, “No, not really.” She laughed as she got up.
“Well, I think I’m going back to sleep.” She put her glass up on the counter before she started down the hallway.
“Hey, Jane.”
She turned, “Yeah?”
“Thanks for the homecoming bio. It was” I paused, trying to find the right word, “sweet.”
She laughed, “I knew it would embarrass you.”
“Good night, Jane.”
“Sweet dreams, Beckie.”
* Just in case you don't remember, Sharona was the 'mom' he ran away from in the memory a few chapters back.