“But why did you beat me?” I asked again.
“Your mother made me,” my father replied.
He told me he didn’t want to. That he didn’t see anything wrong with what I had done. Most boys experimented in their lives. He told me had no idea how to disciple me. He had only seen my uncle use the belt on my cousin.
“Your mother told me to beat the gay from you,” my father said.
My father told me he was sorry as he had no idea what he was doing or where the belt might have been landing. He had only seen my cousin get the belt from his father. He told me he might have had his eyes closed tighter than I had mine.
He told me to look around all this was for my mother and me, not him. He told me my mother hung the moon and he but held the ladder. Your mother is my world she threatened to leave me if I didn’t beat the gay from you.
“Your damn mother told me she had explained all this to you.” “Or least as far as he knew she had,” He said shaking his head.
He told me after it had happened he felt bad because of what he had done. He even told my mother he was never doing something like that again. It cost him as she withheld her love from him for a long time. He told her she needed to tell me or he would.
“I thought she had explained everything to you, a long time ago,” my father said shaking his head again.
My father held out his hand. I smacked it away. I jumped on my bike and went back to the bike barn. I put my bike away and went to my room I closed and locked the door.
I probably cried I can’t remember if I did or not. I hated them both. I hated my father for doing something he didn’t believe in but my mother made him do. My mind filled with all those times I felt like my mother wanted to tell me something.
I also remember her telling me. “If you believe very strongly in something stand up and fight for it.” “To protect those who can’t protect themselves.”
Why hadn’t my father stood up to her and for me? I had more questions than answers. This all seemed a big game to my mother I thought. She used my father as she had used me. Rewards for us both being her good boy.
Bullshit I thought I bared my mental scars because of her. My mom came home and I heard my parents arguing. They had never argued before at least that I had ever heard.
“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO HAVE FIXED THIS!” my father yelled.
He told her he was through it was over. Even if it meant losing her. I heard him storm from the house and get into one of his classic cars. My father roared from our home.
I sat up in bed sort of feeling numb. I wasn’t for sure but I thought my father had just walked out on both me and my mother. I didn’t blame him it was my mother’s fault. There was a knock at my door. It was my mother asking to come in.
“Go away, we have nothing to talk about,” I yelled.