THE BOLAN CHRONICLES: Reading #42

42. Approximate Minutes Reading (AMR): 15

Introduction to Characters

THE BOLAN CHRONICLES

Chapter 3
A Real Live Policeman

**The Stomp**

She entered their room. Jake was shirtless. His pants were still on, and he had put his black leather shoes—the ones that Dean had shined—back on. Donna closed the door behind her then walked to the foot of the bed. Her long, v-shaped face, however unusual, was stunning. Her tiny cleft chin was perfectly accentuated by her appealing, bow-like lips. Her button nose small under a pair of huge, beautiful green eyes. Her wide forehead was framed by silky, straight brown hair that fell to the middle of her back.

“Are you still changing the boy’s shitty diaper, too?” asked Jake.  

Donna said nothing.

“Why do you think that boy needs a baby’s treatment?” Jake asked.

Donna knew that any answer she gave would be the wrong answer. “I don’t know.”

“Do you want him to end up, Donna, like another dumb fucker out on the street?”

Donna repeated, “I don’t know.”

Jake paused then replied, “That’s the story of your life, isn’t it? What exactly do you know, Donna?  Do you know that I work my ass off every day and expect that when I get home my wife will have taken care of the simple things that I ask her to take care of? “

Donna looked down.

“And do you know that every man who sees a curvy ass would give his fucking eye-teeth (and here he began to get loud) to get to that curvy ass…huh? Do you know that, Donna?” After no reply, he said, “Apparently not, cause you went out today like a whore and made that curvy little ass a billboard, once again, didn’t you?”

Donna quickly replied, “No, I just went to pick Dean up at….”

Jake threw his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. He reached under the mattress and produced a bottle of port wine. “Gee, sweetheart, I didn’t see this in the cupboard last night when I was getting my drink.”

Donna froze for a moment, not knowing how to respond. Indeed, she had purchased the bottle today, but there must be some way of getting around the truth. She quickly changed her mind. “Oh, I forgot about that. I’m sorry. It slipped my mind. I was so busy today with things in the house that I forgot that I had stopped off at the market.”

“Oh, Yeah.” Jake said. “I know, I know.” He suddenly lowered his volume, “You work so hard, don’t you?” The sarcasm was now reaching its height, “I mean, I come home every day and see the fruits of your fucking labor all over this dump-hole.”

Donna began to sob quietly, hoping for some sympathy, though she knew that the chances of it were small.

“Let me ask you one more time. Did you not go out and make that curvy little ass a billboard? I suppose there was absolutely nobody in the market. Maybe the only soul there was the checker. And let me guess, Donna, she was a little old lady, right?”

Donna managed a short reply, “I wasn’t there for long, and I…”

Jake began to raise his voice, “It’s a rhetorical question, woman. I know the answer and don’t want to hear your poor excuses for a lie.” He threw the covers off of the bed and screamed, “Get your whore ass over here and take care of me!”

Through the tears, Donna managed a slight grin, hoping to evade the inevitable.  She reached Jake, placed her hands on his knees and slowly crouched until she was positioned between his legs. Jake reached up and put his hand on the top of her head. He then reached into her blouse with his other hand, grabbing one of her breasts. He began rubbing her nipple. Donna’s eyes met her husband’s, and Jake said, “You like that?” Donna nodded. Then his tone changed, “Lying, fucking whore.” Then he grabbed a handful of her hair and quickly wrenched her backwards, holding onto her locks so that she couldn’t drop to the floor. He stood up, still holding her hair tightly, forcing her to follow him upwards. She continued to stare at him, tears streaming from her eyes.

She begged quietly, “Jake. Please, please don’t be loud. Dean might hear us.”  She began to sob, “Don’t be loud.”

Though Donna had been married to Jake for five years, she still made the occasional mistake of giving a command. And though she didn’t see it that way, Jake was very sensitive to commands. He hated them from anyone, but commands from women, and especially from his wife, was too much to take. 

He leaned into Donna’s face until their noses thouched, then he said, “Are you telling me what to do?” Without a moment for her to respond, he continued, “I think you are.” Then he placed his mouth on her ear and whispered, “And did you lie to me again, Donna? Answer the Goddamned question honestly.” The two of them stood, the husband, towering over the wife, his handful of her hair raised high enough above her head to get her to her toes.

Donna paused then replied, “Yes.”

Jake slowly relaxed his arm and let loose. He then grabbed her chin and pulled it upward, her eyes now facing his. “It’s really not a difficult fix, dear.” Then he raised his right foot until his knee nearly reached his stomach, and he brought it down as quickly as he could, landing it squarely on her foot. Donna gasped and fell to the floor. The pain surged through her foot and up her leg. She moaned loudly then began to cry.

Jake stepped away and said, “See, I’m sure you won’t be doing much street walking now…at least not for a while.”

Donna continued to sob, trying to hold back the screams, mindful of their little boy just down the hall. Jake leaned over and looked her in the eye, “Now come on, Donna, try to pipe down. We don’t want poor Dean to get too upset.”

Donna’s moans subsided, and she suddenly gave her husband a look of disgust, then said, “You’re an animal.”

“Ooh,” Jake replied. “So very mean.” Then he walked toward the door. He looked back at his wife curled up and in pain and said, “Guess I can wait until tomorrow for that bit of lovin’ you owe me.” Then he smiled, “It’s okay, I’m patient.” And he stepped out of the room.

*********

Dean pressed his fingers deeply into his ears and began to hum. He first hummed the song that his teacher taught the class on the opening day of school then he began to sing it quietly, “I like to eat, eat, eat apples and bananas.  I like to eat, eat, eat apples and bananas.”  

He completed the song and unplugged his ears. It was quiet, and he waited a few moments. Silence was often the boogieman, hiding in the corner, waiting to jump out and scare. When he heard mumbling, then a loud thump, he began to sing the same tune, over and over, going through the vowels, “I like to oot, oot, oot ooples oond boonoonoos. I like to oot, oot, oot ooples oond boonoonoos.”  

When he unplugged his ears this time, he heard his father’s footsteps coming down the hall.  Now he began to sing faster. “Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb, Mary had a little lamb, its fleece was white as snow.” He listened again. The boogie-man seemed to have fallen asleep. This time, he simply hummed; no tune in particular. He simply hummed. And he hummed until he found himself in a vast darkness, and he was swinging from a rope. And his arms ached. He was so scared to let go, so he held tightly onto the rope, all the while, swaying in the absolute quiet, scaring him to a point of breathlessness.  

When Dean awoke, he looked over at the sunlight piercing the white curtain sheers. He was relieved to be awake. The dream that haunted him every night made the morning so welcomed. It was his favorite time of day, except on the weekends, when his father was home. But the weekday mornings were the only time when Dean felt any degree of safety.  

He slipped from his bed and walked to the nearby bathroom. When he’d finished using the toilet, he washed and dried his hands then he dragged a stool from beside the door, climbed up, opened the cabinet just above the sink, and pulled down a small stack of 20 or so index cards. He sat down on the stool and read through each carefully. He paused and thought for a moment, then he returned the cards with equal care.

Dean walked into the kitchen and looked around. His mother was not there. As he turned to walk down the hallway to the master room, he noticed his mom asleep in the easy chair. It was fully reclined. He quietly walked over and stood at the foot of the chair. Her head was slightly turned, and she was breathing heavily. A bit of drool had escaped the corner of her mouth. The blanket that covered her had fallen slightly off and now was mostly draped over one side of the chair. Dean slowly pulled it back over her.  She stirred a bit but didn’t wake.  

He walked back into the kitchen and picked up the small stool that sat next to the front door, stepped up and grabbed a bowl of cereal from the cupboard. When he finished his breakfast he walked to the counter next to the sink and set the bowl there. He walked back to his chair and sat, waiting for his mom to wake up, though he hoped that she wouldn’t for a while. He hoped that she would sleep so long that he would miss school, and he could spend the whole day with her instead of with a bunch of kids who he didn’t seem to understand and who didn’t seem to understand him.  

He heard the sound of the squeaking brakes coming from the school bus and then realized that he would be spending his day at home. He smiled. He glanced over at his mother. Even with the sound from the bus, she didn’t stir. Dean slid off of the chair and walked back over to his mother. He stood by her again, looking at her face. He leaned over and gave her a soft kiss on her cheek. Then he walked back to his room, keeping the door opened so as to not wake her. He grabbed a Dr. Seuss book from the top of his dresser and climbed back into bed. It was his favorite of the many Seuss books that his mom had given him. He opened it. Marvin K. Mooney Will You Please Go Now! Throughout the story, Marvin K. Mooney was being asked to “Go!” Dean didn’t know where Marvin was being asked to go, but he liked the story. He became Marvin every time he read it.

After Dean had looked through one after another of his Seuss books, he walked out of his own and into his parent’s bedroom. He thought about the sounds that he had heard from here the night before, and he wondered what might have happened. His imagination created possibilities, and he only hoped that they weren’t true.  

Dean heard his mom’s voice from the living room, “Dean, Honey, are you awake?” He walked into the living room and to his mom. She reached out to him, “Come here, Honey.” She grabbed him around the waist and pulled him into her, “Honey, today you aren’t going to school, okay?”  

Dean replied immediately, “Okay.”

“Mom isn’t feeling well today, and I think it’s going to be really hard for her to do anything.” She paused, “You think you can help me today?”

Dean smiled, “Yeah. I can help you, Mom.”

Donna smiled at Dean and gave him a hug. “Good, Honey. How about you start by getting yourself some breakfast. There’s some cereal in the cupboard, and I think if you use the little stool by the door there, you can reach it.” Then she paused, “Wait, how did that stool get over there?” 

“I had cereal, Mom.”

Donna looked confused, “What do you mean, Honey.”

“I had cereal. I had Cheerios.”

Donna asked, “When?”

“When you were sleeping.”

Donna noticed the empty bowl on the counter. She suddenly felt sad. She never wanted to be the kind of mother who neglected her child. She looked at Dean, “You are such a big boy. I’m proud of you, Honey.”

Dean stood, expressionless.

“I hurt my foot last night, Sweetie. Do you think you can turn the television on for me?”

Dean nodded then turned on the set and sat down on the small couch. ‘Good Morning America’ was on. Linda Blair and Charlton Heston were re-united to celebrate the 10^th anniversary of the film, “Airport 1975.”   

Without looking away from the screen, Donna said, “You see that lady right there, Dean. I watched her in a movie when she was a little girl. She was born at about the same time that I was born.”

Dean looked at the lady on the screen and said nothing at first. After some thought he looked back at his mom and asked, “What movie, Mom?”

Donna wondered how to answer. She finally replied, “It was a movie about a little girl who wasn’t very happy, Honey.”

“Why?” Dean asked.

“Well, she just wasn’t happy with her life. She didn’t like the kind of…the kind of people who visited her.”

Dean thought for a moment. “Who were the people that she didn’t like?”

“They were people who visited her at night, but she didn’t want them to visit her.  They were just scary people, Honey. It was one of those scary movies that your uncle Ted likes to watch.”

“Did you like the movie, Mommy?”

Donna now realized that she had said too much. “No, Honey, I didn’t like it. It scared me, and when I see her, I still get a little bit of that scared feeling in my stomach.“

Dean stood silent for a moment. He was thinking about his dream; the dream that haunted him nearly every night. He thought about how much he hated that dream and about how even the thought of it, day or night, scared him. And he thought about how he sometimes tried to stay awake at night so that he wouldn’t have to face the scary dream when he fell asleep, but when he heard the fighting sounds coming from his dad and mom’s room, he wanted to fall asleep, even if he did have to face the dream.

“What are you thinking about, Sweetie?” his mom asked.

“Nothing.” Dean replied shyly.  

Donna slowly stood from the chair, quietly moaning when she stepped using her injured foot. Dean noticed this, but he said nothing. He was used to seeing his mom in some kind of pain, though he rarely saw evidence of it.

Donna looked out the living room window. For November, it was an unusually nice day. She thought about the previous night and how horrible it had been, and yet she still had hope. She still believed that this family could work. She believed that someday her husband would change. But until then, she was willing to put up with whatever he dealt her. Someday things would be better.  

She looked back at her son then hobbled over and put her arms around him. She kissed him on the top of his head and pulled him into her.  “Mommy loves you so much, sweetie.”

Dean looked up at her and smiled. He was glad to be with his mother, and he was glad that his father was at work. Then Dean had a thought and asked, “Can we go to Lancer’s for lunch today, Mom?”  

Donna almost immediately replied in the affirmative immediately, but on second thought, she considered her condition. How would she look, limping along with her son.  Then again, she thought, I have to take advantage of my precious time with Dean.  

“I think that’s a great idea, sweetie. But first I need to clean up and change into my regular clothes.” She looked down at little Dean, “Can you just imagine Mommy walking into Lancer’s looking like this!”  

Dean smiled and replied, “That would be funny.”  

Donna stared at Dean. His cute little mouth, the pudgy little nose, the innocent eyes. She kissed him again then she made her way to her bedroom. Before she entered, she paused. Her heart began to race, and her first thought was of that half-empty bottle of port in the cupboard, but she resisted.  

The drive to Lancer’s was a quiet one. Dean said almost nothing. He looked out the passenger side window at the passing houses and trees. When they came to the stop sign just across the street from the café, he noticed a scrawny little dog crouched alongside a bank of shrubs next to a large concrete wall. Dean looked back at his mom and pulled on her shirtsleeve. “Yes, Honey.”  

Dean pointed to the dog. “Look at the little dog.”

“Ah. It looks sad and lonely, Honey.”

Dean thought of how fun it might be to have a dog at home. It could play with him and sleep in his room. It could be his buddy. “Could we take that dog home, Mom?”

Though Donna would love to have a dog at home, she knew full well that her husband wouldn’t approve. “Oh, Honey. I would love to have a puppy at home, but your father only likes police dogs. He’s not really a dog kind of person.”

Dean looked at the dog again, and he thought that it was looking back at him. Its eyes were sad, and it was shaking. He kept his eyes locked on the dog as they drove off. ‘Goodbye, Carl.’ He said under his breath. They turned into the parking lot at Lancer’s. “Ready, Honey?” Without a word, Dean looked back at his mom then grabbed the door handle and stepped out.

They entered the café and immediately saw Sherry, a part-time waitress who also attended the University of Bridgeport as an English major. When she saw Dean, Sherry stopped collecting the dirty dishes on the table, set them down, and swiftly walked over to greet the two of them.  

Sherry treated Dean like the smart little boy that he was, and Dean liked that.  Donna smiled, “Good morning.”

“Morning!” Sherry replied.  

“Dean, I haven’t seen you in weeks. I was wondering if maybe you had moved or something. I’m glad you’re still here!” Dean grabbed his mom’s hand and smiled.  Sherry directed her attention to Donna. “How are you doing?”

Donna smiled and replied, “We’re doing fine, thanks.” Then she looked down at Dean. “We’re ready for some yummy breakfast!”

“Alright!” said Sherry.  “Let’s see what we can do.”

She seated the two then pulled out her pen and pad. “Are you limping?  Are you okay?” She asked.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a sore foot.”  Donna replied.

Dean ordered pancakes and Donna ordered coffee and two slices of toast.  Sherry brought the food and set it down on the table. She looked at Dean. “No school today?”

Dean looked at his mom then back at Sherry. “No.” He paused then looked at his mom as if he expected a rescue. When she said nothing, he continued, “I had a stomach ache last night, and I didn’t sleep very good.”

A concerned look came over Sherry’s face, “Oh, Dean, I’m sorry.  Do you feel better now?”

“Yes.”

“That’s’ good. Maybe it was something you ate, right? Dean shrugged. “Well, from what I hear, pancakes do a belly a lot of good, so let’s hope they help out!”

Dean replied simply. “Yeah.”

When they finished eating, Sherry grabbed the plates and silverware and asked if everything was tasty. Dean looked up and smiled, “Yes. It was really good. Thank you.”

“You are such a fine young man, Dean. Someone has taught you well.”  And she looked at Donna and smiled. “Are you sure you don’t want anything more?” She looked behind her toward the kitchen then turned back toward Donna, winked, and whispered,  “I’m sure I can find some stray bacon back there.”  

“Oh, you’re sweet, but no thank you. Maybe next time.”

“Okay,” replied Sherry.  “The deal stands for next time.” And she looked back toward the kitchen again. “It’s a special…just for you two.”

They began walking out of the diner, and Sherry called out, “Take care of your foot, Donna.”

Donna smiled and said, “Oh, thank you. I will.”

“And don’t be a stranger, Dean. I hope I get to see you more often!”

Dean looked back at Sherry. “Me too. Bye!”