Page 108 of Ezekiel
“He said the most vile and horrific things to Zeke. Things I could never have imagined a parent saying to their child,” I admitted, the words I had heard rushing back through my memory.
“Like what?” Delilah asked.
“Like telling him he was a waste of space,” I explained, my brow furrowed in the pity and sorrow I felt for my husband. I didn’t pity him. I felt so much sorrow for the boy being degraded by his father.
“He actually said that?” Ruth asked in abject horror.
“He did. And that wasn’t even the worst of it. He screamed at him. He even threw a punch at our wall, right beside Zeke’s face. It was a scare tactic, but still,” I continued, feeling my heart race at the memory of that moment. I had barely been able to see what was going on from the doorway of our bedroom, but I could just make it out from my viewpoint.
“Talia, I’m so sorry,” Ruth exclaimed quietly.
“He told Zeke that if he’d had it his way, he would have been a bloody mess at the bottom of the trash in an abortion clinic,” I admitted softly. The words were vile in my mouth, just repeating them.
“Holy fuck!” Delilah exclaimed.
“That is downright disgusting!” Ruth agreed. The horror in both women’s voices helped me feel less alone. But I still had to admit the worst part of all of it.
“That’s not all,” I began, taking a deep breath for what I was about to say.
“He said more?” Delilah cried out.
“No, but it’s worse than that,” I replied. “During the entire exchange between Zeke and his father, I remembered.”
“Remembered what?” Delilah asked, confusion laced in her voice.
“Did you remember more of what happened?” Ruth asked with excitement.
“Yes,” I admitted. I didn’t want to say this. I didn’t want to throw this wrench into the entire situation unfolding.
“Talia, way to bury the lead! Tell us! This is so good!” Delilah exclaimed with a laugh of joy.
“It’s not good, Delilah. It’s bad. Really bad,” I began again, digging down deep to find my courage. “I remembered his voice.”
“Who’s voice?” Ruth asked.
“Zeke’s father,” I admitted.
“Oh, shit,” Delilah swore.
“When he yelled at Zeke, I don’t know. It just hit me like a ton of bricks. I recognized that voice. I recognized it as one of the men’s voices in my memory. Clear as day.”
“Are you certain?” Ruth asked. I couldn’t blame her. I would never want to wrongly accuse anyone of anything, least of all something as grave and serious as this.
“I am. I’ve gone over it about a million times since Zeke left this morning. It was his voice. I know it. I know it in the depths of my soul,” I said passionately.
“We believe you, Talia,” Delilah encouraged with such sincerity it brought tears to my eyes.
“We do. And we are here for you. Have you told Zeke?” Ruth asked.
“No, and I don’t want to. That’s why I called you both. I needed to not be alone in this truth, in this feeling. But I’m afraid to tell him,” I explained.
“Why afraid?” Delilah asked.
“Because of something he said to me after his father left this morning. I pushed him to stand up to his father, but Zeke refused.”
“I’m with you. Old Titus needs a swift punch to the ballsack, if you ask me,” Delilah scoffed.
“Your choice of words is so….” Ruth trailed off, searching for words.
