Page 31 of Bernadette
“So, what’s your story?” When he still looked confused, she rose to her feet and went over to the kitchen area to bring the coffee pot back. After filling several cups, she returned to the kitchen and started a fresh pot. She hoped that would give him enough time to get his thoughts together. Bernie really liked Chuck and wanted to get to know him more. She settled back in her chair, and leaned back, cradled her cup in her hands, and looked at him with a raised brow.
Chuck shrugged, then sipped his beer, when he saw it was empty, he pushed the bottle to the center of the table and looked at everyone, but he turned his entire attention to Bernie.
“I guess you could consider that I grew up as a townie. I lived in town, and when school started, I walked. It wasn’t until I went home with the J’s for the first time, I was able to ride a bus.”
“I know you said you met them in kindergarten, buthowdid you meet?”
Chuck frowned as he cocked his head to the side, trying to remember.
“You were standing off against a boy that was in the second grade,” Justin said. “We heard arguing and came to check it out. We saw you standing in front of a little girl, who was sitting on the ground crying. You had your fists balled up and yelled at the older boy.”
“It took some time to sort out,” John nodded as he took up the tale. “Chuck saw the older boy push the girl off the swing, because he wanted to use it. She scraped her knee, and it was bleeding. Chuck defended her.”
“That’s right,” Chuck laughed. “I forgot all about that. It turned out that at least three others said the same thing I did, that he bullied that girl. I forget both of their names now, but I do know he got into trouble and wasn’t at recess for some time. I saw him sitting in the principal’s office during the time we were able to go out and play.” He grinned over at the J’s and laughed outright. “Remember when we were first introduced to the game of dodgeball in gym class?”
The men roared with laughter, and Josh wiped his eyes as he looked at the others to explain. “That boy Chuck stood up to started drilling the balls at the girls, and after he hit one of them in the face, Chuck started whaling all his balls toward him, and we joined him.”
“In my defense,” Chuck said seriously, “That punk-ass kid ended up breaking that girl’s nose.”
“Holy shit,” June said. “What happened then?”
“Luckily, the gym teacher saw it, and after he blew the whistle for us to stop, so he could get to the girl, behind his back, the four of us let loose with our balls all at once. Each of us hit him. He tried to call foul, but the teacher yelled at him for breaking the girl’s nose. Turned out to be the same little girl he pushed off the swing.”
“Holy crap, what happened then?” Bernie asked.
“He was taken to the principal’s office, the girl went to the nurse.” Chuck looked around the table sadly. “It turned out the little girl was his new stepsister, and he resented his father’s new wife and her daughter.”
“Damn,” the women said, and shook their heads.
“Yeah, but we became best friends with Chuck, and it’s been that way since then.”
“Did you ever go to their house?”
“I did.” Chuck admitted, then sighed. “Growing up, I didn’t find this out until later, because it had always been Mom and me. Apparently, when I was two, my dad went away to prison, he came back between Thanksgiving and Christmas of the first year I met the J’s. I still spent time together with them at school, then I’d go to their house on school vacations for a couple of days. It was okay with the man that claimed to be my father was there, but Mom still worked three jobs. It was hard with just the two of us, I was left home a lot by myself. I’m not dissing my mother in any way, shape, or form, it was just our way of life.
“When dad was there, it took some time, maybe six months or so, before he was able to find a job, and we were a small family. I still had school, and I still went to the J’s. When I was around nine, I had to call Dad Stan to come to the house. I was scared shitless and didn’t know who to call. See, both Stan and Dottie had made me memorize their house number, in case something happened, and I needed help. They knew Mom worked three jobs and wasn’t always there for me.”
“What happened?” Bernie asked.
“It was a weeknight, and it was after I’d gone to bed. Mom was home, but Dad wasn’t. I don’t remember what time it was, but they were fighting, and they woke me up. I know I wasn’t supposed to and to this day, I think the only people who know what I’m about to tell you are Stan and Dottie.”
“What happened?” Justin looked at him in confusion.
“I cracked my bedroom door open to see if I could see my parents. Their voices were loud, really, really loud. I crept down the hall and looked into the living room. Mom was on the floor, and Dad towered over her. He lifted his foot and stomped on her at least three time before I screamed, ran full tilt, and plowed into him. When he tried to hit me after he got up, Mom was there with a baseball bat, telling him if he hit me, she would use it on him. Then she told him to get the hell out. He left. It took some time, but we both went to bed, she ended up sleeping in my bed with me. We got up and I went to school, but when I came home Mom was right where I left her, still sleeping in my bed. She was doubled up into the fetal position and didn’t look good. I could see where she had thrown up several times during the day.”
“Oh, shit,” Bernie said as she sat up and reached for his hand. “What happened?”
“Because I didn’t know what to do, and I had no clue if maybe Dad had returned and hurt her again, I called Stan. It took some time, but he and Dottie finally arrived. I had thought it had been six or seven hours, but it was only like forty-five minutes from my call to when they arrived. Stan stayed with me while Dottie went to check on Mom. An ambulance came, took Mom, then Stan took me to the hospital. Dottie had ridden in the ambulance with her. At the hospital, I had to tell the police what had happened.”
“Did your mother survive?”
“Yes,” Chuck scrubbed his face and looked around the table. “It was a mess, around that time they had invoked the three-strike rule.”
“What’s that?” Bernie asked.
“Three felonies and you’re going back to jail permanently. Dad had four already. When I finally learned all that had happened, it opened my eyes to what a really bad person my father was.”
“Why?”
