House on the Beach

by Linda Barrett

  He waved to Ms. Mosely, then scanned the hallways to see who was around today. Everybody. Including the fourth-grade monsters. A group of three boys who bothered him almost every day. Well, the best thing for him to do now was hide in the crowd. Until he could find Brian.

  The exit loomed ahead. He wished he could be invisible and ride the bus in secret. From behind him, he heard a dreaded voice. “Hey, mumbles. Why don’t you spit those marbles out of your mouth?” And then the giggling. Several voices. Girls, too.

  He didn’t turn around, just continued walking. Dad said to ignore it, so he would. He passed through the big double doors and started down the wide flight of steps. This was the hard part.

  “Ca-Ca-Casey! D-d-don’t f-f-fall!” Someone bumped against him accidentally-on-purpose, and Casey stiffened to keep his balance.

  “Y-y-y-yeah, C-C-Casey,” mimicked another kid. “Cat got your t-t-tongue?”

  He wanted to scream at them, but he couldn’t even talk. Maybe the cat really did have his tongue. Nothing in his mouth worked!

  “Those boys are mean.” He noticed Katie was beside him and he nodded, happy to see her, but knowing she couldn’t do anything, either. She was too small, just like him.

  Suddenly the fourth-grade monsters cut between him and Katie. He was alone and surrounded.

  BRIAN PARKER LED the kindergarten class through the side exit of the school building. The kids were cute and usually listened to him, but he would have felt better if he’d been assigned as monitor to Casey’s second-grade class. Especially for the afternoon dismissal when every kid in school was looking for some action after sitting all day. And very few teachers were outside.

  He turned the corner with the children in tow. A crowd of kids gathered on the sidewalk in front of the main entrance. His body tensed, his hands curling into fists. The scene looked familiar, and he just knew Casey was involved. When he saw his friend, Steve, running toward him, his suspicions were confirmed.

  “They tripped him, and he fell down the steps. But he flung his bookbag at one of the boys and hit him in the gut.” Steve looked proud of Casey’s accomplishments.

  “Walk these kids to the buses, Steve. I gotta go see Casey.” He ran without waiting for a response.

  A path through the crowd opened for him as he approached. Katie was helping Casey to his feet. But then Casey pulled away from her, his lips tightly pressed together as he gathered himself up.

  “Hey, Case,” Brian called as he approached.

  His brother stared at him, eyes opened wide. No tears fell. His face was pale, except for the bruise on his cheek. He said nothing.

  Brian leaned down and put his hands on Casey’s shoulders. “Who did it this time?”

  But Casey didn’t reply. Just continued staring into space. Brian’s stomach flip-flopped. This was worse than usual.

  Brian scanned the crowd. Some of the kids were walking toward the buses. A few of Casey’s friends looked scared. Katie looked furious.

  “It was Mike Murphy and those fourth graders.” Then she grinned for a second. “I kicked one of them.”

  Great. His little girl cousin was fighting his battles. “I’ve told those guys to leave Casey alone. They think they’re safe because they’re on a different bus than we are,” Brian said. “I’m going to take care of them after we get home.”

  “Whatcha gonna do, Bri?”

  “What I always do to everyone who picks on Casey. I’m gonna beat ’em up.”

  “It won’t help. Nothing can help.” Casey’s words were barely audible. Brian rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles. If he had to, he’d take on the whole fourth grade, one bully at a time.

  MATT PULLED his van in front of Sea View House and turned the ignition off. During the week since the ball game, he’d usually managed to visit Laura once during the day between service calls. Today he arrived midafternoon because of her Friday commitment to the library in the morning.

  His visits to Sea View House had become the highlight of his day. And Laura’s glorious smile, when she opened the door, gave him hope that she felt the same.

  He walked down the driveway to the beach side of the house and knocked, hoping today would not be an exception. It wasn’t. Her eyes lit up when she saw him, and he drew her to him for a kiss. It was the natural thing to do, and her response was all he could hope for.

  But he wouldn’t rush her. He wouldn’t take the chance of spoiling everything. He cared about Laura. She was a beautiful woman inside and out, and he wanted her so badly his whole body trembled at the thought of making love to her. Of being loved by her.

  Suddenly needing air, he pulled at the neckline of his shirt and took a small step backward before Laura could feel how ready he was. When the time came, he vowed silently, the wait would be worth it. And when they were finally together, he wouldn’t rush her either. Even if it killed him.

  “Come on in.” She held the door open.

  He entered the kitchen. Two mugs, two spoons and a plate of cookies waited on the table. The light under the kettle was glowing. His throat closed for a moment. She’d always been hospitable with a hot drink after he arrived. But today…she’d been waiting for him.

  “This is nice,” he said, nodding at the table.

  “Your three-o’clock snack,” she said with a smile, turning her attention to the stove. “Kids aren’t the only ones who need an afternoon pick-me-up.”

  Matt chuckled and sat down. “I guess you’re right.”

  “So, how’s Brian doing with his play?”

  “You mean Ben Franklin? He wants…” His cell phone rang, cutting off his explanation of how Brian wanted to reenact the discovery of electricity. “This is Matt Parker,” he said into the phone.

  “You’d better get home,” said Sam. “We got problems.”

  “What kind of problems?”

  “Casey came home crying and Brian was threatening to beat the hell out of some kids who’d picked on his brother. And then they both took off on their bikes. Wouldn’t listen.”

  “I’m on my way.” Matt stood and walked to the door, phone still in his ear. “Hang on, Pop.” He looked at Laura, who had a confused expression on her face. “Gotta go. My kids are looking for trouble.”

  “Can I help?” Now she looked worried.

  “Thanks, but I can’t think how.” He kissed her quickly and left.

  “Phone me later,” she called after him.

  He nodded, waved, then spoke into the cell as he walked to his vehicle.

  “Call the store, Pop. Casey might look for me there. The Golden girls are working today. Tell them to hold him down if he shows up. Brian, too.”

  “Will do.”

  “And then track down Lila. Tell her the same thing. Casey might ride to see Katie.” No one else immediately came to mind.

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll cover the streets,” Matt said. “You stay by the phone.”

  “Got it.”

  Matt disconnected from his father and scanned the road in front of him, half expecting to get a call back within five minutes. Only about a mile separated the Parker home from the store, and Casey had probably—hopefully—headed straight there. Brian, as he knew from experience, wouldn’t show up until he’d accomplished his goal. Matt cursed under his breath. The situation was getting out of hand with both his sons. Casey was miserable, and Brian was earning a reputation as a fighter.

  Matt drove slowly from Beach Street along Outlook Drive, stopping at the corner of Oceanside and looking left and right down that broad cross-street. He faced front again, about to drive through the intersection, when he saw movement. Fast, crazy movement along the side of the street. A boy on a bike. Head bent, pedaling as though his life depended on a quick getaway. And staring only at the ground. Jeez! The kid wasn’t watching for traffic.

  Matt pulled over, shifted into Park and jumped from the vehicle. He ran across Oceanside to intercept Casey before his son reached the intersection.

  “Yo!
Casey!”

  A dirty, tear-filled face looked up. Casey jumped from his moving bike and ran straight into Matt’s arms. “I—I—I…”

  “Shh. It’s all right, Case.” Matt’s arms tightened around his child, and then he stroked his son’s back, hoping to calm him.

  It worked for about five seconds.

  “I—I want L-L-L…the la-dy!” he finally managed, pulling himself away from his dad.

  “You mean Laura?” asked Matt.

  Casey nodded with vigor, his forehead crinkled with worry lines.

  “Then let’s get your bike in the van.”

  Matt watched his son fetch the bike where it had fallen and bring it to their vehicle. He slid the side panel open and hoisted the two-wheeler inside. Then he lifted Casey into the front passenger seat. “Seat belt.”

  Casey obliged, then looked at Matt, his lips pressed together. He waved his arms forward and around, indicating Matt should make a U-turn back to Sea View House.

  Matt’s heart sank. Speech seemed beyond Casey’s ability at the moment. So asking the boy about Brian’s whereabouts seemed out of the question. Matt couldn’t remember the last time Casey had been reduced to absolute silence. His normally cheerful disposition usually helped him to rise above it.

  Again Matt parked in front of Sea View House, this time honking the horn. The door opened almost immediately, and Laura stepped out. Matt heard Casey fiddle with the seat belt and watched him race directly toward his target.

  “Easy,” Matt called, hoping his sturdy young son wouldn’t mow Laura down. As he watched Laura scoop Casey up and twirl him around in one smooth motion, he sighed with relief.

  He phoned Sam with the update and asked him to start looking for Brian. Then he followed his son and Laura into the house, trying to understand the meaning underneath Casey’s garbled verbiage.

  LAURA HUGGED Casey tightly, blinking back her own tears, trying to recall everything she’d ever learned about the problems stutterers faced.

  She cuddled the child as she walked, leading Matt into the living room. She sat down in the corner of the sofa, her arm around Casey, who sat right next to her. Matt sprawled on the floor in front of them.

  Stroking the child’s arms, murmuring reassurances, kissing the top of his head, Laura waited for Casey to relax. She glanced at a worried Matt and raised her brow in question. He replied with a slight shrug. Whatever that meant.

  Finally Casey squirmed and pushed himself away until he could face her. Laura waited, but Casey said nothing, just looked at her with pleading eyes.

  “Tell me, Casey. Start anywhere.”

  For a minute, she thought he wouldn’t or couldn’t respond. He looked at his dad, then back at her. She swore Matt was holding his breath, but he managed to smile and nod at his son.

  And then broken words tumbled from his mouth. In fits and starts. With anger and pain. With small fists clenched.

  The big kids had made fun of him again today. A lot of them. In the hall and on the steps at school. They scared him. They were mean!

  “I see,” said Laura, glancing at Matt, then back at Casey.

  “They’re called bullies,” said Laura.

  Casey nodded. “F-fourth-grade monster b-b-bullies!”

  “Bullies make fun of others just to make themselves feel more important. And they pick on smaller kids because,” Laura lowered her voice, “they’re not brave at all. They’re cowards!”

  Casey nodded agreement with enthusiasm.

  “So, we need a plan.”

  Hope shone in Casey’s eyes for the first time. He sat taller, leaned forward.

  “Let’s think of some choices.”

  “B-b-beat ’em up.” He punched the air.

  A cough from the floor made Laura glance at Matt. He looked less tense. She felt better, too. Not because she advocated fighting, but because Casey’s spirit was on the rebound. For that, Laura was grateful. Confidence was the key to this boy’s happy childhood.

  “Let’s think of other ways, Casey,” she said. “Those boys are a lot bigger than you.”

  “Brian helps me,” replied Casey. “He’s big, too.”

  “Case?” asked Matt, his eyes narrowing.

  The child looked at his dad.

  “Just where is Brian now?”

  Casey stared at the far wall and shrugged.

  “Casey,” Matt repeated his son’s name in a warning tone. “Where’s Brian?”

  The child appealed to Laura with a look.

  “Oh, no,” said Matt, squatting in front of his son. “You’re not playing Laura and me against each other.”

  Laura said nothing. Matt had been in the parenting business for years. She had no experience at all. Casey was silenced, too. And then the doorbell rang.

  Laura buried a smile, thinking how they were “saved by the bell,” an impatient bell that rang again just before Brian burst into the house, calling for his dad and then stopping in his tracks when he saw all three of them, including Casey.

  “I saw the van,” he said, and then spoke to his brother. “Don’t worry, Case. At least Mike Murphy won’t bother you again.”

  Laura turned from Casey, whose eyes lit up with relief, to Brian, who was flexing his fingers.

  “Will I be getting a call from the Murphys, Brian?” Matt asked, getting up from the floor and examining his son’s hands. “Go wash these cuts and bruises while I call Grandpa. He’s out looking for you.”

  “But, Dad,” protested Brian, “you don’t understand what they do to Casey!”

  “There are other ways to help.” He put his hands on Brian’s shoulders. “Did you ever think of next year? You won’t be around in the same building. What will Casey do then?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted.

  “And you don’t have to know, Brian,” said Matt. “What you should have done is told me about it. I’m the dad, remember? And Casey’s teacher knows how to get me at any time.”

  “Yeah. But Ms. Mosely isn’t around to see it.”

  Laura watched Matt lead Brian into the kitchen, and then turned to Casey. “Do you see the problem, Casey?”

  Tears started to form in the child’s eyes, and Laura felt herself start to panic. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. We’re going to come up with a plan. Remember? A plan to handle bullies.”

  She had his attention again. “What?” he asked.

  Laura’s mind raced to possibilities. “You could start by asking your teacher for more help.” She paced her speech and adopted a soothing low tone. “You like Ms. Mosely, and Brian says she doesn’t know everything that’s going on. I bet she would be very worried about you if she knew, and she’d do something about it.”

  Laura continued to talk and make suggestions about handling the bullies, like walking away from them or looking them in the eye and saying, “So what?” in regard to his stuttering. “I know it’s hard to be brave when facing somebody who acts tough. But sometimes just acting brave is enough to stop a kid from picking on you.” She snapped her fingers. “Maybe your school has an anti-bully program you don’t know about. We can find out.”

  She paused as Casey tried to digest what she’d said. His little face was so expressive, nose crinkling, brow furrowing. She reminded Casey that his own classmates in second grade were his buddies. He had a lot of friends on the block where he lived, as well.

  “And you are so good at so many things. For example, you’re absolutely great at music. You can sing better than lots of people. And you use your voice for that, too.”

  The child nodded.

  “And you play the piano. Not many seven-year-olds can do that, either!”

  Now Casey was smiling.

  “She’s right, you know, Case,” said Matt from the threshold as he returned to the living room with Brian. “You’re a terrific little musician. You’re a Parker!”

  The child grinned at his dad, and Laura’s heart overflowed as she watched them interact with each other.

  Then Casey said, “Row
your boat, Dad.”

  “Okay.” Leaning his shoulder casually against the wall, Matt began the old folk round, “‘Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream.’ Casey started the song at the beginning of his dad’s second line, the precise moment he should have to develop the round.

  Laura looked at Brian, who mouthed, Our turn. And they jumped in on time to complete the three-part round. To Laura’s amazement, no one missed a beat for the entire time they sang. And Casey carried his part alone like a champion.

  “That was great,” Laura said when they came to the end. “Such fun. And Casey, you’re wonderful. Right on time with no problems. Maybe music can help when you want to say something difficult. You could use a tune you already know.”

  “Like ‘Row your Boat’?” His nose crinkled again. And then he sang,

  “Go, go, go away,

  When I’m in the hall,

  Someday I’ll be big enough,

  To make the bullies fall.”

  Eyes wide as though he surprised himself, Casey started to giggle.

  Laura couldn’t say a word. Couldn’t stop staring at Casey. It seemed Matt and Brian felt the same. They were totally silent—at least for the first five seconds.

  Laura watched Matt scoop up his younger son and bury his face in the boy’s neck. “You are something special, Case. I love you. Very, very much.”

  “Me, too, Daddy.”

  And then Brian was standing at her side, his head almost reaching her chin. He looked into her face, studying it as though he’d never seen her before.

  “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

  At first, he said nothing. But after a moment, “You made Casey happy.” He started to smile.

  Laura leaned closer to him. “You’ve got it wrong, Brian. Your brother made himself happy. He figured out what to do. I didn’t do it for him. In fact, I can’t do it for him. And neither can you. Even though you wanted to, it’s not your job. Next time, ask for help. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Laura extended her hand. “Shake?”

  “Shake.” He suited action to words.

  “You’re a terrific big brother,” said Laura. “Casey’s lucky to have you.”