His mother cupped her hand around his sister’s mouth and whispered for her
to hush. His father continued screaming so loudly that a neighbor eventually
called 9-1-1. The police showed up and made his father leave.
The second time he remembered his dad leaving was on his ninth
birthday. His mother had wakened his sisters early to surprise him with a
birthday breakfast in bed. The flame of the candle protruding from the stack
of pancakes flickered as they sang an off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday”
to him that Saturday morning. As the girls proudly belted out their grand
finish, their parents’ bedroom door slammed open into the wall down the
hallway. The girls stopped singing and cowered behind their mother. In a
few swift steps, his father was in the bedroom, yanking him out of bed by his
arm. His mother dropped the plate of pancakes and pounded her fists into
his father’s back as he unleashed a relentless beating on the birthday boy. His
sisters hid in the corner of the room together and silently cried.
When the thrashing was done, he dropped the boy onto the ground,
stormed out of the room, and slammed his bedroom door behind him. His
mother loaded all three children into the station wagon and drove to the
emergency room where she told the doctor he had fallen down some stairs
while playing; dutifully, he sat quietly on the exam table as the older of his
two sisters corroborated the story for effect. The birthday boy suffered from a
broken arm, severe bruising, and three cracked ribs. His mother called his dad
from a hospital pay phone and told him he had to leave the house; if he wasn’t
gone by the time they got home, she would call the police and report him for
child abuse. When they arrived home that afternoon, three children still in
pajamas with tear-stained faces, their father was gone.
He lost count after the sixth time his mother threw his father out.
He wasn’t even twelve then. The beatings had become a nightly routine and
both his parents’ drinking served only to fuel their fights and the abuse. His
mother was often on the receiving end of his father’s fist and he did what he
could to protect her but he was no match for his father’s temper. During the
times his father was gone, the phone rang all night and he knew it was him,
begging his mother to take him back. His father made empty promises to her,
swearing this time he would get help; this time was the last time he would hit
any of them; this time was going to be different. Each time, his mother let
17