A Little Lesson

by Pandora Pine

  Bronson nodded. He knew if anyone could get Tucker out of this funk, it was Grams and Pop-Pop.

  “Thank Christ,” Nash whispered. “I’ll fill them in on Tucker’s day when they get here.”

  “Thank you so much for looking out for him, Nash. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “It’s what families do, Bronson. We take care of each other.”

  It was exactly what families did, but at the moment, Bronson couldn’t help but feel that his was splintering apart right before his eyes.

  XX

  Tucker’s mood hadn’t improved by lunchtime. He sat in the cafeteria surrounded by his friends picking at his lunch. While Nash watched, he hadn’t taken more than a few bites of what he knew were Tucker’s favorite things. He’d seen a baggie filled with green grapes, a peanut butter and marshmallow fluff sandwich and some pretzel sticks. Most of it went into the trash when lunch was over.

  While the kids walked back to the classroom, Nash couldn’t help but think of what Bronson said about Alicia. Had she said something that scared Tucker so badly that it caused this behavior? What could she possibly threaten him with that would cause the little boy to be silent all day?

  Maybe Alicia hadn’t said anything at all, maybe she’d hurt Tucker in some way? Nash shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. He’d seen only one case of child abuse in the five years he’d worked at Little Wonders and that had been in his second year.

  The kids all filed back into the classroom and took their places on the reading rug. Nash watched while Tucker took his usual place next to Gabby. “Okay everyone, why don’t you all grab a book and bring it back to your spot on the rug. Tucker? Can you help me for a second with the classroom lizards?”

  Tucker nodded and stood up carefully from his seat.

  Nash frowned, not liking the way Tucker stood up. Usually the little boy bounced up from the floor and had to be reminded that running wasn’t allowed in the classroom, but now, the little boy moved like he was in pain. “Hi, buddy.” Nash offered him a smile as he knelt next to Tucker.

  “Hi, Mr. Spencer.” Tucker kept his eyes on Spot, the leopard gecko.

  “You didn’t each much lunch today.”

  “I’m not hungry.” His voice was a near whisper.

  “Did you have a big breakfast with your Daddy?”

  Tucker shrugged, his eyes still on Spot.

  “Tucker, you’ve been so quiet all day. You’re not your usual happy self. Did someone hurt you?” It broke Nash’s heart asking that question. He loved Tucker with his whole heart and it would kill him if someone laid a hand on Tucker.

  The little boy’s blue eyes snapped up to Nash’s in terror. He shook his head and ran back to his spot on the reading rug.

  Christ, what had just happened? Nash kept an eye on Tucker while he walked back to his desk to send Bronson a quick text message. [Tucker’s no better and when I asked if someone hurt him, he looked scared to death.]

  Setting his phone back on his desk, Nash started toward the reading rug. Colby was holding up the classroom copy of Dragons Love Tacos and asking if Tucker wanted to read it. Tucker reached forward to take the book from the other boy when his shirt rode up in the back. Nash gasped out loud at what he saw.

  Beneath the hem of Tucker’s shirt was a purplish-black bruise. Nash stood stone still for a moment trying to come to terms with what he was seeing. Before he knew it, Tucker had taken the book and moved back to his spot on the rug.

  “I need to go see Miss Patty for a second. Can you all be good and read your books?” Nash was heading toward the classroom door before the eleven kids shouted their answers. He dashed across the hall and got the other teacher’s attention and asked her to keep an eye on both classrooms for a few minutes.

  Nash popped his head back into his room where all the kids were sitting together and sharing books. “Tucker, can you come with me for a minute?” Nash felt like he was going to throw up. Once he set these wheels in motion, there was no turning back.

  Tucker got up gingerly from his spot on the rug and walked to Nash, staring down at his feet the whole time.

  Heading down the hall toward the main office, Nash was torn. Did he stay professional and act like a concerned teacher or did he do all he could to take care of Tucker like a concerned parent? Nash held his hand out to Tucker who grabbed on to him like Nash was a lifeline.

  Before walking into the main office, Nash took a deep breath. He led Tucker over to a small row of seats where the naughty kids sat when they were sent to the principal’s office. “Can you sit here for a minute for me?”

  Tucker shook his head, tears spilling from his green eyes. “I’m scared. Don’t leave me.”

  If Nash thought his heart was broken before, Tucker’s words blasted his heart into a million pieces. He’d wanted a minute alone to talk to Remington about what he suspected, but that was impossible now with Tucker’s plea. “Okay, buddy, come with me.”

  Nash walked up to the counter in the office and caught the attention of one of the secretaries. “Is Mr. James in his office?”

  “Sure, Nash. Go on in. Is everything okay?”

  Nash nodded and led Tucker toward Rem’s office door.

  “Mr. Spencer! Tucker! What are the two of you doing here?” Remington had a concerned look on his face.

  Nash understood his friend’s concern. There were still two and half hours left to go in the school day. He ushered Tucker toward a chair in front of Rem’s desk and then hurried back to shut the office door. He didn’t want to risk anyone hearing this conversation.

  Remington stood up and walked to Nash who was locking the office door. “What’s going on, Nash?” His voice was just above a whisper.

  “There was an incident this weekend between Bronson and Alicia McKinnon.”

  Rem nodded. “Rainier filled me in as best he could without breaking privilege. He also told me what Alicia accused you of. I’m so damn sorry, Nash. Rest assured Little Wonders doesn’t believe in any of that homophobic bullshit.”

  Nash appreciated his friend’s confidence in him. “That’s not important now. I think someone hurt Tucker.”

  Remington’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me what you know and we’ll go from there.”

  “Bronson told me Tucker was acting sullen and quiet when he was dropped off last night. He didn’t want to eat, take a bath or read books.”

  “That doesn’t sound like the Tucker we all know and love.” Remington looked over his shoulder toward Tucker.

  “It isn’t like Tucker at all. Bronson said he didn’t want to come to school today and so far I haven’t been able to get him to engage with me or the other kids at all. He barely ate lunch, so when we got back to the classroom, I asked him to come help me with the lizards and he got up slowly, like he was hurt.”

  “Nash, you and I both know we can’t start this kind of investigation because a little boy didn’t bounce out of his seat.”

  “I know that, Rem.” Nash shivered. “There’s more to the story. When Tucker went back to sit on the reading rug, he leaned forward to take a book another student offered him. The back of his shirt rode up and…” Nash couldn’t say it. He couldn’t bear to see it in his mind’s eye.

  “And what Nash? What did you see?” Remington sounded like he already knew what Nash saw.

  Blinking back tears, Nash looked up at his best friend. “A bruise, Rem. It’s a big one too. I have a feeling I didn’t see the whole thing.”

  Remington nodded and put a hand on Nash’s shoulder. “Stay with Tucker. I’ll go grab the nurse.” Yanking the door open, Rem practically ran out of it.

  “Am I in trouble?” Tucker didn’t look up from his shoes.

  “No, buddy, you’re not in trouble at all. We’re just gonna talk for a minute with Mr. James and Nurse Molly. You met her a few weeks ago when you fell down at recess, remember?”

  Tucker nodded. “She gived me a Spiderman band-aid.”

  Remington came back into the office with the n
urse trailing behind him. “I told Nurse Molly what you told me, Mr. Spencer.”

  Nash nodded and backed away from Tucker to give the nurse room to examine him.

  “Hi, Tucker.”

  “Hi, Nurse Molly.”

  “Are you hurt, Tucker?”

  The little boy shook his head no.

  Molly glanced up at Remington who nodded silently. “Mr. Spencer is worried about you today, so what I’m gonna do is take a look at you, okay?”

  Tucker’s eyes went wide with fear. He shook his head no again.

  “I know you’re scared, buddy, but you’re safe here with me. I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you. Nurse Molly is only going to look at you, okay?”

  Tucker looked up at Nash. “Daddy promised I’d never get hurted.”

  Nash exchanged an alarmed look with Remington. “Can you stand up for a minute?”

  Tucker slowly pushed himself out of the chair and stood up.

  “Can you turn so your back is facing me?” Molly asked with a smile.

  Wordlessly, Tucker turned around.

  “I’m just going to lift up your shirt, okay? I promise it won’t hurt.” Molly pulled a pair of gloves out of her white coat and slipped them on. “Here we go.” She lifted the hem of his Rex Rules tee-shirt and gasped.

  “Sweet Jesus.” The bruise was bigger than Nash had thought. It stretched part-way up Tucker’s back and Nash would swear he saw the outline of fingers at the top of the mark. It reminded him of his handprints on Bronson’s ass the other day when he’d spanked his lover. Someone had hit Tucker so hard, they’d left marks.

  “Who did this to you, sweetheart?” Molly asked gently.

  Tucker whimpered and shook his head no.

  Nash moved around Remington’s desk and knelt down in front of Tucker. “Did your Mommy do this to you, Tucker?”

  Tucker stood stone-still, tears dripping from his tightly shut eyes.

  “Did Ashton hit you?”

  Tucker didn’t move a muscle.

  “Did your Daddy hit you?” Nash said a silent prayer. He knew Bronson wasn’t capable of hurting his son like this, but he still needed to ask the question.

  Tucker’s bright green eyes popped open locking onto Nash’s. He didn’t say a word, but fat tears continued to drop from his eyes.

  “I need to report this.” Remington walked toward his desk and picked up the phone.

  “Who do you need to call?”

  “911.”

  “What?” Nash stood up and walked toward Remington.

  “Nash, listen to me. There are rules I’m bound to follow. I need to report this suspected abuse to the police. They’ll come with an ambulance that will transport Tucker to the hospital for a full examination. The police will interview his parents and all of us who witnessed the bruise.”

  “Someone needs to call Bronson.”

  Remington nodded. “I’ll call the parents after I get off the line with 911. What you need to do Nash is go back to your classroom. There are ten other kids who need you.”

  “But, Rem, its Tucker.”

  “I know and we’re going to keep him safe until the authorities get here.”

  “Um, guys?” Molly said quietly. “There’s more to the bruise.”

  “What do you mean more?” Nash felt his emotions start to well up inside his gut.

  “It goes all the way down to the top of his thighs.”

  “Oh my God,” Nash whispered.

  Remington grabbed Nash by the shoulders, taking his attention from Tucker. “Go back to class. Take care of your kids. I’ll keep Tucker safe.”

  Nash nodded. He was in too much shock to speak. “Bye Tucker. I’ll see you soon.”

  “No!” Tucker screeched trying to run toward the door. “Mr. Spencer! NO! Mr. Spencer, don’t go!”

  “Go now, Nash.” Remington opened the door to usher him out. The office door shut on Tucker’s screamed pleas for him to stay.

  Resting back against the door, Nash burst into tears.

  21

  Bronson was talking with a patron about whether he thought George R. R. Martin would live long enough to finish writing the Song of Ice and Fire series before he died when his phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket and excused himself from the library patron when he saw the call was from Remington James. “Hello?” Bronson could feel his stomach tossing and turning.

  “Hi, Mr. McKinnon. We’ve got a situation going on here that I need to make you aware of…”

  Bronson didn’t like the tone in the principal’s voice. He had a bad feeling about this call. “Is Tucker hurt? Was he hurt at recess?”

  “Yes, Mr. McKinnon, Tucker is hurt, but it wasn’t at recess.”

  “I-I don’t understand. What do you mean he’s hurt, but it wasn’t at recess?” Bronson’s head was spinning. Was this the reason Tucker had been so quiet last night and this morning?

  “Mr. Spencer noticed him moving around gingerly as if he were in pain. At one point this afternoon, Tucker moved to grab a book and his shirt rode up revealing…”

  “Revealing what?” Sweet Jesus, what was the principal trying to tell him?

  “I’m not going to pull any punches here, Mr. McKinnon. Tucker is bruised from his lower back to the top of his thighs.”

  “What?” Bronson roared, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling of the library. “Who did this? Who hurt my son?”

  “We don’t know. Tucker isn’t saying a word about that.”

  “What is he saying a word about?”

  “He’s been screaming for Nash Spencer since the police got here.”

  “Police? What police?”

  “It’s mandatory in cases of suspected child abuse that we report our findings to the police.”

  “Child abuse?” Bronson’s voice was just above a whisper. “Who did this to my boy?”

  “We don’t know, Mr. McKinnon. Tucker is being taken by ambulance to the Sarah Phillips hospital. You can meet him there.”

  “Hospital? I-I…” Bronson was at a loss for words. It was like he was in the middle of a nightmare only this was real. Someone had hurt Tucker.

  “Listen, Bronson.” The tone of the principal’s voice changed. “I called Rainier. He’s going to meet you the hospital. You need to take a deep breath and get a hold of yourself. Tucker needs you. My next call is to your ex-wife, but I can stall that for a few minutes.”

  “Thank you, Mr. James.” Bronson took a deep breath, trying to pull his scattered thoughts together. “Where is Nash now?”

  “He’s back in class with the other kids. He wanted to go with Tucker in the ambulance, but he has a responsibility to the other kids in his class.”

  “Of course he does. Who is with Tucker?”

  “No one from the school, just the police and the EMTs who are transporting him.”

  “Christ, he’s alone? I’m on my way.”

  “Please let me know if there’s anything else we can do for Tucker.” Rem’s voice was harsh with emotion. “We all love him so much.”

  “Pray for him, Mr. James and pray I don’t get my hands on the son of a bitch who hurt my son.” Bronson hit the end button on his phone disconnecting the call. As he ran for the front door of the library, he dialed his parents’ number.

  Ten minutes later, Bronson burst through the doors of the emergency room, running toward the front desk. “I’m looking for my son, Tucker McKinnon. I’m his father, Bronson.” He could feel his hands shaking.

  “Just one minute, Mr. McKinnon. Why don’t you take a seat in the waiting room?”

  “I don’t want to sit in the waiting room. I want to see my son!” Bronson was yelling. He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for yelling but I got a call that my son is hurt and I need to see him.”

  “I understand, sir. Just have a seat and we’ll be with you in a moment.” The nurse pointed to the rows of seats in the waiting room.

  Bronson nodded and headed toward an empty chair. He pulled his phone out, checking to see if
there were any messages from Nash or from Rainier. There were no messages, but the principal had said his brother was on his way to the hospital to meet him. He hoped Rainier got here soon.

  When the door leading into the ER swung open, Bronson turned to see not a nurse, but a large, armed police offer step through the door and head toward him.

  “Mr. McKinnon?”

  “Yes, I’m Bronson McKinnon. Where’s my son? I need to see my son.” He was on the verge of tears again and didn’t care if this burly cop saw him cry.

  The cop narrowed his eyes at Bronson, seeming to study him. “Come with me.” The cop headed away from the entrance to the emergency room.

  “Thank Christ. No one will tell me anything about my son. I’m worried sick.” Looking around, Bronson realized they weren’t heading toward Tucker. “Wait! Where are we going? I need to see my son!”

  “Your son is in good hands. We’re going somewhere to talk privately about the events leading up to the bruises being discovered on your son at school.”

  Bronson’s lunch rebelled, threatening to come back up. “Wait, am I suspect? You think I did this to Tucker?” Bronson was yelling again, his hands balled into fists.

  “Bronson!” Rainier’s voice echoed down the hall.

  Turning, he saw his attorney sprinting down the hall toward him and the police officer who was standing with his hands on his hips. “Rainier, thank God. They won’t let me see Tucker and they think I’m the one who did this to him.”

  “Is Mr. McKinnon under arrest?” Rainier appeared to be in full attorney mode.

  “No, Mr. James, he is not under arrest, but we need to speak with him before we can allow him to see the minor child.”

  “Tucker!” Bronson wailed. “His name is Tucker. He might be some ‘minor child’ to you, but he’s my son!” Bronson looked the cop square in the eye. The man did not look moved. He heard running footsteps behind him and turned to see his parents and Nash running toward them. He’d never been so happy to see them in his life.

  “Where’s Tucker?” Peg asked.

  “They won’t let me see him.” Bronson hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the police officer.

  “Why not?” Mitch McKinnon looked confused.