A New Day, The Other Me chapter 2

Mr. Mark Delauter Sr.

Dinner with my family is one of the bright points in my day. I get to see my children for the most part and while Bethany loves her mother she does seek my approval from time to time. My name sake is passing his college classes but I’m beginning to think a male tutor might be needed since he keeps posting pictures of girls he’s with and I’m beginning to worry that it’ll be a major setback in a couple years. My Abigail is a bright and promising student with grades and a work ethic that will make any business proud, and her sister helping her out socially which is a bonus. I miss how they used to be inseparable before their mother died. And speaking of Mothers my wife Loretta is an amazing woman, Linda was a great mom but it takes strength to come into a family and establish yourself as a good parent. Thankfully I have some great kids. Not to forget the dark horse in the family Loretta’s boy Guy. I had hoped he would come out of his shell over the years but he seems more and more distant as time winds on. I’ve been looking at college options for him when he graduates this year, he and Abigail are my academic powerhouses so wherever they want to go to college they get to go. Mark Jr. and Bethany are Texas College bound through and through but they like it here and it keeps them on a short leash. Put one on the other side of the country and who knows what messes they would make. Back to Guy I’ve been concerned for a couple months now that he’s trying to cut himself off from family and might be getting into trouble. After he came home early in the morning one day I decided to keep a loose eye on his comings and goings from the house, needless to say there isn’t much. I hated to be the one to tell him his biological father is missing but better coming from me than his mother. I watch her look to him in passing moments and know that my wife feels a bit sad at the state of things but if it were horrible he would say something. I’ve always prided myself on open communication between the family.

Back to current events of the day we’re all having dinner in the dining room, Loretta made roast beef with mashed potatoes and green beans. A classic and I feel like things are turning up well for the family. Guy hasn’t come down from his room to get his plate but when he does I’m going to encourage him to sit with us and drag him into the conversation with the rest of the family. Bethany is talking about this Halloween at the end of this month and some party she wants to host at the house, she loves showing off my hard work and I do too at times. Mark is thinking about moving to the dorms on campus, it’s a good thought but I want his grades up and if paying for gasoline in the tank gets me that I will take the bargain. Abigail is a little quiet but attentive to everything including the empty seat next to her where Guy would be. We’re half way through dinner and no sign of the boy. I have a mind to bring him a plate and have a talk in his room, get a feel for where he’s at.

I’m about halfway through my plate when Loretta’s phone goes off in the kitchen, I don’t like electronic devices at the table as it takes away from family time. Regardless she ignores it and allows it to go to voicemail. We continue to eat when the phone goes off again and Loretta removes herself from the table to answer the call, I can hear Mark talking about a winter trip to Europe for skiing when there is a commotion in my kitchen where my wife is. I hurry from the table and find my wife on the floor shaken and unable to stand. The kids are there with me as I try to rouse my wife.

“Honey are you alright,” I ask my distressed wife.

“Hospital… he’s at the hospital… I need to go to the hospital…,” I hear come from my wife’s mouth but don’t understand.

“Lori who is in the hospital,” I ask and she looks at me.

“My baby is in the hospital, we need to leave now,” her final words confuse me a little.

I watch as Loretta finds her feet and begins to scramble through the house looking for whatever she can to get out the door. I don’t know who called but if my wife is distressed I’m going to help solve this. I get my keys and jacket, and then grab her phone before ushering my wife into my car while my children attempt to ask questions.

“I don’t know what is happening but until I get home Mark keep the girls here,” I tell my son who give me a determined look.

In the car and five minutes of driving when Loretta informs me that we’re going to the wrong hospital. We end up driving almost across town but not quite as we pull into visitor parking and I have to jog to keep up with my wife who is running in her bare feet. I return to the car to grab her shoes and back into the hospital.

“Where did the hysterical woman run off to,” I ask the nurse at the counter.

She puts me in the right direction and I find Lori standing and talking with a different nurse in the surgery wing. I arrive at my wife’s side only to have her bury her head in my shoulder crying.

“Nurse could you please explain to me what is going on,” I ask attempting to get a lay of the land.

“I was just telling your wife that your son is in surgery for a knife wound to the abdomen, he’s been in there for a couple of hours now and the sitting area is back the way you came,” She is a professional but needs a little lighter touch.

“That will be fine Ma’am, where do I set up billing,” I get it out of the way early and I won’t have to deal with the forms when we should be with Guy.

I leave Loretta sitting in a chair and get her some water while I fill out the insurance information. I actually have to message my policy handler and request the updated information. I keep all my children on my coverage since it’s hard out in the world without it. I complete the form and wait for another hour when my second hurdle has walked in the door and is looking for my wife. She’s an intense Detective from the police force, Latina female and a no nonsense attitude. I know this because I’ve cross examined her.

“Mr. Delauter, I’m surprised to see you down here. Visiting a client,” Detective Escalante asks being barely polite.

“I’m here with my wife, our son is in surgery,” I counter and she smiles.

“Wonderful, I get to speak with both of you,” sitting next to my wife who is unsure of what is going on.

For the next half hour we are questions about Guy’s activities, his whereabouts, known friends and any problems he’s been having. I’m in a bit of a predicament as neither I nor my wife can answer these questions in any real capacity. It’s when she begins to fill in blanks that I find myself questioning my status as a ‘good’ parent.

“Do either of you know where Guy got some of the long term bruises on his body,” Escalante asks and I’m confused,” You didn’t notice your son has been beaten up on a regular basis.”

“Nobody beats my children, and I don’t believe in violence as a punishment,” I counter but she doesn’t believe me.

“And the missing molar just happens to be something not related to his family life? Can either of you tell about the improperly healed right wrist the doctors found pre op,” Escalante asks again and the only person more horrified by the realization of what we’re hearing than me is my wife,” Okay again no. Do either of you have any idea why he would be half way across town from his school or his home after having drawn almost two hundred dollars out of his account earlier in the week?”

“I monitor Guy’s transactions and he doesn’t touch his money that often,” I counter but she smiles.

“I’m not talking about his debit card account with Texas National, I’m talking about the private savings account with First Convenience,” Detective Escalante says destroying everything I thought I knew,” I’m going to guess no councilor. We’re going to get a blood work done and we’re searching his personal bag and clothes as they are part of a potential murder investigation.”

“Why would someone want to murder my son,” Loretta asks hurt and almost destroyed.

“By my estimation he was involved in some sort of a drug buy and they decided to take the money and run. I’ll be back with more questions when I have all the evidence,” Detective Escalante ends our conversation on that note and leaves us to our parental misery.

While Loretta prays for Guy I sit back and think about what I’ve seen in the past four to five years. Guy was always quiet, he socialized with my children early on, and then he stopped. He inexplicably stopped, Loretta and I spoke about birthdays at one point and I remember her saying that she wanted him to have a car so he could be more independent but why didn’t we get him one? And I remember when he told me he wanted to move in with his father, I didn’t like seeing him hurt but the only thing I could think of was to put money and praise in front of him. I don’t remember him visiting friends, he has always been the quiet one of all my children and I do think of him as my child too. What does he think of me? What does he think of his mother? Loretta is beside herself with grief but I need answers. Guy is a shy and when I met him scared boy, he’s not an addict and he’s certainly not a whipping boy. My children wouldn’t allow that to happen.

Our wait goes till the late evening when the doctor returns from surgery and gives us some good news for a change, Guy will live. The wound was serious but they we able to ensure that no major organs were damaged irreparably, just a lot of blood loss with a beating to preceded it. We are shown to Guy’s room by a nurse and that is where I watch my wife’s heart break. He has bandages wrapped around his head, a pad taped over his eye, multiple smaller bandages on his face neck and arms, his right wrist is in a brace waiting for a cast and he’s pale. The boy never had a great deal of color but he’s so much paler now. I hold Loretta as she cries into my shoulder and can’t imagine how this happened. I’m told that visiting hours are long over and that we’ll need to leave so that the patient can be allowed to rest. They have him heavily sedated and they want us to leave, I tell Loretta to have a seat while I step out and make a personal call.

A half hour later I am informed that my wife will not be forced to leave since she’s his only available blood relative and that the hospital is sorry for the misunderstanding. Loretta knows nothing as watch her sit and stare at her baby boy. I can hear her singing softly to him as she holds his good hand and I make a couple of startling conclusions that leave me with questions I know I won’t like the answers to. Loretta isn’t going anywhere and I tell her I need to return home to check on the children. She nods which is the most responsive she’s been since we got the call and I leave to return to my children.

It’s a quiet drive and I am, as always, in control of my emotions and the vehicle as losing my temper now does me no good. I pull in front of my home and barely get in the door when Bethany comes running from the TV room.

“Dad where is mom,” my social twin daughter asks.

“She’s still at the hospital, I’ll be returning there for her in a little while,” I inform her heading to my office.

“Is Mom okay,” Beth asks concerned.

“No, your mother is not okay. She’s very hurt right now. Go get your brother and sister and all of you come to my office,” I tell her but she freezes.

“Dad I think they’re both asleep,” my daughter is afraid, fear accentuates guilt maybe.

“Get your brother and sister…. Now,” I use my cold office voice and watch my daughter shiver at my words.

She leaves to do what I told her as I unlock my office and remove the two guest chairs for people who need to discuss business privately. Physical labor doesn’t help me any as I’m struggling to keep from losing my composure as I remember a scared boy who is now a broken young man. My children return with more awareness than a recently woken person should have, Beth warned them about my mood. Good, it will help.

“Mark, Bethany, Abigail. Your mother is at the hospital right now. I’m going to try to convince her to come back tonight but I don’t think she will,” I begin and Bethany is quick to speak.

“Dad, Mom and I have plans tomorrow,” she says and my look says my response for me but I will make this redundant.

“You had plans tomorrow; those have been cancelled by me because I love my family. I love every member of my family and I have been a very poor parent,” I say the words, it hurts but it is the truth.

“Dad you are not a bad father,” Abigail, my jewel of a daughter, informs me sadly.

“I was asked questions tonight that I have no answer to, so let me see if I can garner some knowledge from my children,” I look up to them and they look eager to help,” Who are Guy’s friends?”

“What,” my namesake decides to answer in his confused tone.

“It’s a simple question, who is Guy’s friends,” I ask again and now I see fear, not nervousness, fear.

“We don’t know,” Mark answers and the girls keep quiet.

“Abigail, Bethany, you’re all in the same grade. Who does your brother hang around with,” I ask holding onto my patience like a life raft on the ocean.

“He doesn’t hang out with anyone really, he’s kind of a los… loner,” Bethany answers quietly.

“So you don’t know if he has any friends or he doesn’t have friends,” I ask and the second option has Abigail staring at her feet,” Okay, so here’s another question. Who has been physically beating Guy the past few years?”

“Beating, Dad we don’t do anything to him,” Bethany says in her defense but it says more about her intent.

“So nobody has done anything to Guy in the past four years or so? Nobody touched him, nobody hurt him, nobody saw him with friends, and nobody knows what he was doing this afternoon? Nobody knows anything,” I ask and see shame, fear and confusion.

“Dad where’s Guy,” Mark asks showing his use of cranial grey matter.

“It’s good that you asked that but I need to know who has been abusing your brother, my stepson and your Mother’s baby boy but you can’t seem to answer those questions. Let me ask an easier question children,” I start but Abigail stops me.

“One of the local groups, kind of a gang, beats him up about once every two weeks or less. He’s reported them before but nobody said who did it so he just stopped. They’ve tried to call the house and have left messages but I don’t know what happened to them. He doesn’t go to any clubs or try to do any sports because we’re there,” my special girl informs me angry now and ashamed.

“Does he hate us,” I ask concerned.

“He should,” Abigail whispers,” We never help him. I don’t even talk to him at school and I should.”

“I need an explanation,” I say looking to Mark,” You are the oldest.