“Shut up. What’s it to you?” Bucky looked from one boy to the other. “You guys get out of here. Go find Mr. Litton.”
“But . . .”
“I mean it!” He gave them a hard look. “Take off!”
Muttering, the two campers grabbed their towels and sauntered out. Bucky returned his attention to Alex.
“Alex? Are you all right, man?”
“I don’t know.” The boy was near to tears.
“What were they teasing you about? Your shirt?”
The boy nodded without a word.
Bucky glanced around, but the shower room was empty. “Alex,” he said softly, “how come you always have your shirt on when you take a shower?” He paused. “Are you just shy?”
A long silence. Bucky could hear raucous shouts outside. Please, God, give me a minute here!
“What is it?” He looked at Alex, trying to read the boy’s pain.
“I don’t know.” The words were a whisper.
In the back of Bucky’s mind a troubling thought began to whisper at him. Oh, no, Lord . . .
“Alex, I want you to take off your shirt.”
“I can’t.”
“How come?”
“I just . . . ‘cause.”
“Can you pull it up just a little bit?”
There was a long hesitation. At last Alex looked down. Reaching for the hem of his plain white T-shirt, he slowly pulled it up.
Bucky struggled to keep the gasp from escaping. Running all across the boy’s stomach and back were long, ugly bruises.
Chapter Eight: “Who Did This to You?”
“What happened to you?” Bucky could hardly believe his eyes. The welts seemed to dot nearly half of Alex’s exposed flesh.
The frail boy began to shake.
“Alex.” Bucky drew the boy closer. “Did somebody do this to you?”
No answer. Fighting back tears, the child tugged his shirt back down.
“Did somebody here at camp hurt you?” A quiet anger began to knot Bucky’s stomach in two. God, so help me . . . Through his tears, the boy slowly shook his head. “Let me see them again.” Gently he tugged on the boy’s shirt and glanced closely at the bruises. “Oh, Alex . . .”
“They still hurt.” Bucky could barely hear the young camper’s voice.
“But . . . how’d this happen?” Bucky glanced toward the bathroom, but apparently all of the campers had gone to lunch. “Who hurt you like this?” Again Alex’s eyes flooded with tears. His shoulders began to shake as he suddenly broke into sobs.
“Hey . . . hey.” Bucky reached out and pulled the frail boy closer to him. Oh, God, he’s so skinny. “It’s OK, Alex. It’s OK, man.” For a moment he just held the terrified camper. “I’m going to help you.” Still on his knees, he could feel Alex’s tears on his neck.
“I don’t want . . . the other boys to know.” The child’s voice quivered in shame.
Loosening his embrace, Bucky said, “Hey, I’m not going to tell them anything. I’m your counselor.”
“I know, but. . .”
“Listen to me.” Bucky looked into Alex’s still moist eyes. “I need for you to tell me how this happened. I mean, really. Who hurt you?”
Alex stood there for a long moment, tears still dribbling down his cheeks. “I . . . can’t.”
“How come?”
“I just can’t.”
Bucky took a deep breath. “Alex,” he said softly, “did your dad do this to you?”
“Huh uh.” Sniffling, the boy shook his head vigorously. “He never did.”
A tiny wave of relief swept over the tall athlete. “Well, that’s good,” he responded. “But who did? Alex, I really need for you to tell me.”
Another determined shake of his head. “I can’t.”
Something inside Bucky seemed to tell him not to push it. “Do you want to go with me for some lunch? It’s burritos today.”
Alex sniffed again, wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his T-shirt. “Huh uh. I don’t want to, you know, eat with all the kids.”
Bucky thought for a moment. “Why don’t we go over to the office? You and I can eat there.”
The boy nodded numbly.
“Come on.” Bucky laid a careful hand on Alex’s shoulder. He glanced both ways to make sure they weren’t going to meet anybody on the way.
Knocking on the main door to the office, he waited for a moment. “Come in,” Renee Carpenter said. “Hi, Bucky. What can I do for you two?”
“Is Joe here?”
She shook her head. “He had to go down to the district office for a meeting. He won’t be back until tomorrow night.”
Bucky gulped. “We really need to see him.”
“Anything wrong?”
He shot her a warning glance. “Well, right now we’d like to bring some lunch over here and eat together, just the two of us. Is that OK?”
The director’s wife studied him a moment. “Sure.” Then she looked down at Alex. “Do you want to wait here with me while Mr. Stone brings lunch?”
The skinny camper nodded, his eyes still red.
“I’ll be right back.” Bucky gave her another glance. I’ll tell you later!
Inside the cafeteria he sought out Dan. To his relief, the rest of his cabin was sitting next to the Litton squad. “There you are.” He sat down next to the bulky counselor. “Listen, I got an emergency. Can you keep watching my boys for just a little bit?”
“Yeah.” Dan had a mouthful of burrito, but he gestured toward Bucky’s kids. “I figured you got tied up, so I just took over your army.”
“Thanks.”
“Well, actually, that blond kid seems to kind of have them under control.”
“Jason?” Bucky couldn’t hide his surprise.
“Yeah. He’s a pretty good kid.”
Bucky went over and gave Jason a little thank - you punch on the arm. “You guys gettin’ along OK?”
“Sure.” Jason took a sip of Kool-Aid. “Where’s Alex?”
“Oh, he had a little problem, but I think things are OK.” Bucky tried to keep his voice light, but at the same time give Jason a continuing sense of responsibility. “I’ll be back in a bit if you and Mr. Litton can keep things cool in here.”
“Sure.”
Carrying two plates of food, Bucky returned to the office and let himself in.
“He’s in Joe’s office,” Renee told him. “I imagine the two of you can have some privacy there.”
“Thanks.” He lowered his voice. “I’ll tell you about it later.”
Closing the door, he handed Alex the food. “Feeling a little bit better?”
Alex nodded.
“Shall we have a prayer?” Closing his eyes, Bucky said a short blessing. “And please help Alex right now to feel better about everything,” he finished. “Please be his special friend right now. Amen.”
Taking a bite of food, he looked over at the boy. “Let’s eat for a little bit, and then maybe you’ll feel like talking.”
Alex chewed methodically on his food, his dark eyes flickering sadly around the room. Bucky thought he had never seen such despair in a kid’s shoulders before.
“Better?” He forced a grin as Alex finished his chocolate pudding.
“Uh huh.” A little nod.
Bucky slid his chair closer to the boy’s. “Alex,” he began, “you know I’m your friend, right?”
Another nod, almost imperceptible. “I really want to help you out,” Bucky said softly. “Won’t you tell me how you got hurt like this?”
Alex wet his lips. “I can’t.”
“But why? We’re here at camp. You’re safe here. Was it just one person doing it several times?”
A long silence. At last he gave another little nod.
“But it wasn’t your dad?”
“Huh uh.”
“Are you sure?” Bucky searched his pale face. The boy nodded.
Bucky’s mind raced. “Please, Alex,” he pleaded. “Let me help you. Can�
��t you tell me who’s been hurting you?”
Another tear began to form. Bucky watched helplessly as it slid down Alex’s cheek. Long seconds went by in painful silence, punctuated only by the boy’s damp sniffles.
“Alex . . .” Bucky slid his chair over and put his arm around the child’s shoulders. “Come on, man. Tell me what happened.”
All at once the dam broke. Alex put his head down in his hands and began to sob, his shoulders shaking violently. Then he began to whisper something almost incoherent as Bucky leaned closer to hear. “My mom . . .”
A chill ran down Bucky’s spine. Had he heard right? “What did you say?”
The boy looked up at his counselor, his eyes red from the crying. “My mom . . . did it.”
“Are you sure?” The words were out before he could stop them. Remembering the bruises, Bucky couldn’t envision a mother inflicting such pain.
Alex tried to respond, but the tears were flowing too fast. Silently Bucky pulled out a handkerchief and let the young camper cry for another minute.
At last Alex mopped at his eyes with the white cloth and handed it back to Bucky. “Sorry,” he managed, his voice still weak and embarrassed.
“It’s OK.” Bucky twisted around so that he was looking right at Alex again. “I want you to tell me what happened.”
“I did . . .” Alex choked, his voice low. “My mom did . . . all this.”
“But I thought you were living with your dad.”
A nod. “Uh huh. ‘Cept I was living with my mom until a week ago. My dad and mom got divorced in January.”
“And you were with your mom ever since?”
His face miserable, Alex nodded again.
“When did she start hitting you like this? Or was it all one time?”
“No. Several times. But mostly just, like, the last two weeks.”
“How come?”
“I don’t know.” His eyes were forlorn.
“Did she just . . . hit you?”
“Uh huh. With a belt.”
“To punish you for things?”
He hesitated. “I don’t think so. I mean, I hadn’t done anything wrong. She would just get mad about stuff. Said it was my fault that my dad went away.”
Desperately Bucky choked back the emotional tide building up inside him. “Did she ever . . . drink?”
A fresh tear beginning to form, the boy nodded.
Bucky waited a moment. “So how come you ended up with your dad?”
Alex took a shaky breath. “Last week she really hit me hard. Lots of times. And then I was bleeding and stuff. So when she went to bed, I went to the living room and called my dad on the phone. I told what she did, and asked him to come get me.”
“And then what?”
“He said that he would drive by the house in half an hour and that I should come outside and go with him. So I got some things, like, you know, clothes and my toothbrush and Nintendo and stuff, and then waited.”
“Did he come?”
“Uh huh. He drove by the house without any lights on in the car, and I went out of the back door and came around the house and went with him.”
“To his house?”
“Uh huh. Except then the next morning my mom called there and asked him if I was there and stuff. And told him that he’d kidnapped me or, I think, something like that. Except that he didn’t, ‘cause I’d called him. And she told him she was going to call the police and everything. And then we left the house and didn’t go back there.”
Bucky’s mind reeled. Kidnapping? “Oh, boy,” he muttered. “So where’d you and your dad go?”
“To motels. Different ones every night.”
“What about work? Your dad hasn’t worked since you . . . went back to live with him?”
“He told me that the police might take me then.”
“Then what happened?”
“I guess . . . then he brought me up here.”
Bucky thought hard. “Alex, are you and your dad Christians?”
A puzzled look. “Are we a what?”
“Christians? Do you and your dad . . . and mom, go to church at all?”
Alex shook his head. “Huh uh. Maybe when I was a baby, but I don’t think so.”
“Do you know a Pastor Thomason?”
He shook his head again.
“How come your dad picked this camp then?”
“I dunno. He said something like, if I was up here the police couldn’t find me. Even if they found him. And then I wouldn’t have to go be with my mom.”
“So he sort of has you hiding up here?” Bucky asked the question softly.
“Uh huh. I guess.” Alex looked up at his counselor, his dark eyes desperate. “You won’t tell, will you?”
Bucky’s heart began to pound. What do I do?
Chapter Nine: Kidnapped!
“We’ll have to call Social Services,” Renee told him. “On a child - abuse case like this, we’re required to notify them within twenty-four hours.” She edged over to the doorway and peeked through to where Alex was sitting by himself, looking abjectly out the window at the early afternoon activities. “Boy, I wish Joe hadn’t gone down to the district office.”
“Well, what should we do in the meantime?” Bucky asked.
“Not much we can do. Like I said, I’ll have to call the county.”
The tall counselor winced. “What will they do?”
She shook her head. “Well, I’m sure they’ll come and take him. Probably foster care until they can really get to the bottom of this story.”
Instinctively Bucky lowered his voice. “Do you think he’s telling the truth? Would a mom really do this to her own kid? Or do you think the dad did it?”
“And that he’s covering for his father for some reason?’ The director’s wife sat there for a moment, thinking hard. “I can’t think why he would, but they tell me that when it comes to cases like this, just about anything can happen. For whatever reason, a kid can sometimes . . .”
Bucky glanced down at his watch. Nearly 2:00. “Listen,” he said, “at least give me a little time to think. Maybe I can find out something. Then we’ll call the county.”
She nodded. “Sure. But we’ve got to let them know today.” Once more she sighed. “Boy, why isn’t Joe here?”
“Well, hang in there.” Bucky stood up. “And be sure to pray for Alex. He’s really one hurting little guy.”
“I know.”
Returning to the director’s office, Bucky sat down next to Alex. “Listen, I’m going to be working on some stuff to help you out,” he said, even though at the moment he had no idea what he could do. “Do you want to go back down to the lake or what?”
“Can’t I stay with you?”
The counselor shook his head. “I don’t think so, for right now, anyway. I have to check out some things. Would you rather go with arts and crafts, maybe? I think they’re doing some neat stuff with leather lacing this afternoon. You could just kind of take it easy there and chill out, not have to worry about skiing. How’s that sound?”
The boy nodded. “OK.”
“Great. Come on.” He said goodbye to Renee, then escorted Alex over to the area where Sylvia was leading her campers in a new craft project. “Can you squeeze in one more man this afternoon?” he asked her.
She looked surprised. “I guess so. Why so late in the week? It’s Thursday afternoon.”
“It’s hard to explain. Just do me a favor, OK?”
The tall girl looked at him, then nodded.
“Thanks.” He knelt down next in Alex. “Now don’t forget that you and I are friends, and that I’m going to help you work all this out. OK?” He put a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You stay here and do what Miss Nelson says. I’ll see you at supper.”
“All right.”
Bucky jogged down to the lake where David was already waiting with a knot of kids in their bathing suits. “There’s Mr. Stone,” the driver chided. “Let’s all glare at him, kids.”
<
br /> “Boo!” The would-be skiers chimed their disapproval.
“Sorry.” Bucky went up to the driver. “I’ve got kind of an emergency. Any way you and Nancy can get by without me for about an hour?”
David shrugged. “I guess. If we have to.”
“Most of these kids are doing OK by now anyway,” Bucky responded. “Just keep ‘em working on their skiing honor and stuff. I’ll get back as quick as I can.”
“OK. But hurry. I don’t want to fight them off by myself.”
Jogging back up the trail, Bucky veered over to the athletic field. Dan and two other counselors were organizing a softball game. Quickly Bucky explained to his friend the predicament. “Are you kidding?” Dan’s face turned a deep red. “His mom? What a . . .”
“Look, I want to drive into town real quick and just see where he lives.” Bucky took a breath. “Alex’s dad took him and they’ve been kind of hiding in motels and stuff. But there’s an address on his camping form. I just want to see what’s really going on around here.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
“Can you come with me? Just real quick?” The emotional roller - coaster of the last couple of hours was threatening to get through to him. “I just want to have someone along.”
“Sure.” Dan turned and tossed his whistle to one of the other coaches. “Hang onto this for me, Cory. Me and Stone are going to run a quick errand.”
Gunning the Toyota into gear, Bucky sped down the dirt road that led to the main highway. “Man, this is one sorry story,” he told his friend.
“He’s really beat up bad?”
Bucky nodded. “Well, most of the bruises are, you know, about a week old now. But, yeah, he’s hurt. Whoever did it needs to sit in jail for a couple of decades.”
“You think it is the kid’s mom?”
Bucky shook his head in frustration. “Man, hard to think that could really happen. But that’s what he says.”
It took just twenty minutes to reach the small mountain community of Derry. Asking at the town’s lone service station, Bucky got directions to the address. The two drove carefully along the quiet city block until they got to the number.
“Del Taco?” Bucky scanned the scrap of paper, where he’d written down the address off the form. “What is this?”
Bucky Stone: The Complete Adventure (Volumes 1-10) Page 78