I'll Stand By You

by Sharon Sala

  “No, ma’am. We need to see a doctor now. He was kicked repeatedly about the head and body by four older boys, and I need to make sure he’s not bleeding internally.”

  This time, Thelma didn’t bother to hide her shock.

  “I’m sorry. You can put him in that wheelchair while I call the nurse’s station.”

  “No thank you. I’ll carry him,” Johnny said.

  Thelma made the call, and moments later, a nurse and a doctor came out pushing a gurney.

  When Johnny laid him down, Beep cried out.

  “Johnny, don’t leave me!”

  “Don’t worry, buddy,” Johnny said softly. “You’re not going anywhere without us.” He held tight to his hand as they rolled him back.

  * * *

  Halfway through the noontime dinner service, the busboy at the Country Kitchen began throwing up. Lovey immediately sent him home, but it left the waitresses in a bind. They didn’t have time to clear tables and wait on their customers, so Lovey made a few adjustments in the staff.

  “Hey, Dori, I need you to grab a tub and cart and help the girls bus some tables.”

  “What about the dishes?” she asked as she began taking off the gloves and apron.

  “Just hustle and we’ll make it work,” Lovey said.

  Dori took down her ponytail, smoothed down all the loose ends, and put it back up again. Then she straightened the blue-and-white-striped shirt she was wearing, checked her jeans to make sure they weren’t wet, and pushed a tub and cart out into the dining area straight toward an empty table full of dirty dishes.

  Customers were still seated at the tables on either side. A trio of men at one of the tables smiled at her and went on about their business. But the four women at the other table were parents of kids she knew from school, and the looks they gave her weren’t kind. She kept her head down as she cleared the table, then wiped it down and set it back up. As she moved past, one of them called out.

  “Dori Grant! You’ve changed so much I almost didn’t recognize you. How are you doing?”

  “I’m just fine, Mrs. Parrish, thank you for asking.”

  But Lorena wasn’t through.

  “And how is that baby of yours? I guess he’s getting bigger. What is he now, four months?”

  “No, ma’am, he’s six months old.”

  Mrs. Parrish smiled at Dori, but it was not a friendly smile.

  “Now what was it you named him? I know I’ve heard it.”

  Dori started moving away. “His name is Luther Joe Grant, after my daddy.”

  Parrish’s smile thinned. “Well, that’s sweet, but I would have thought you’d name him after his own daddy and not yours.”

  Dori stopped, then looked the woman squarely in the eyes.

  “Why would you think something like that, Mrs. Parrish? It’s pretty much tradition in the South to name babies after parents and grandparents.”

  Lorena Parrish sniffed.

  “Well, I guess that’s so, especially if the identity of the parent is in question,” she drawled.

  Dori gasped. She tried to hide it, but her eyes quickly blurred with tears, and to make it worse, Lorena Parrish was still talking.

  “However, your people aren’t from the South, now, are they? I mean, everyone knows you’re a direct blood descendant of Ulysses S. Grant, the man in charge of ravaging this country during the War of Northern Aggression.”

  Across the room, Lovey Cooper had been eyeing Dori ever since Lorena Parrish called her down, and she could tell by the look on Dori’s face that she was being insulted. Lovey never had liked Lorena much anyway and decided it was time to call a halt to what looked like an inquisition. She strode across the floor and slipped a hand across Dori’s back, patting her gently to make sure Dori understood she was not in trouble.

  “Ladies, I’m going to have to interrupt this fascinating history lesson and insist that you let Dori get back to work. We’re a little shorthanded right now. Honey, if you’ll just get those last two tables for me, that will be enough.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I sure will,” Dori said, thankful for the reprieve.

  She could hear Lovey’s sharp, high-pitched voice shift into an oversweet tone as she addressed the table of women.

  “Lorena, you’re looking fit as a fiddle. I guess that new marriage is agreeing with you. I have to say I wouldn’t have had the guts to take on a fifth husband like you did. They’re so dang hard to train and all.”

  Lorena Parrish was laughing with everyone else, but she was pissed and Dori knew it. Her face was a ruddy shade of red.

  * * *

  Johnny was sitting beside Beep’s bed in the ER and Marshall was sitting silently in a chair against the wall, overwhelmed by what had happened to his little brother and intimidated by the sight of all the scary equipment.

  Beep’s nose had already been set and both eyes were turning black. His nostrils were plugged with little wads of cotton to stop the bleeding. The clear plastic guard they’d put over his nose spanned the upper portion of his face like a mask. He was drifting in and out of sleep, exhausted from the events of the day.

  Marshall glanced at Johnny. “When can we go home?”

  “We don’t go anywhere until the doctor tells us it is okay,” Johnny said.

  A single tear ran down Marshall’s face.

  “Is he gonna die?”

  “No, of course not,” Johnny said, but he was beginning to worry. Beep was getting quieter, and all he could think about were dire consequences, like blood clots and concussions.

  He glanced up at the clock. They’d been in the ER over three hours, and he was ready for some answers.

  No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than the doctor came in carrying X-rays.

  Dr. Quick had delivered Brooks Pine, and he was pretty angry about what had happened to the little guy. But criticism was left for others. His job was to fix him. He pulled a couple of X-rays out of an envelope, turned on the viewer light, and slid them up onto the screen as Johnny and Marshall moved up beside him.

  “So, here’s the verdict, guys. Mr. Brooks here has some healing to do. Besides the broken nose, he also has two cracked ribs, a large contusion on his spine, and one on his thigh. Look here,” he said, pointing to the X-ray. “These fine lines on the fourth and fifth ribs are hairline fractures. Other than the broken nose and a couple of loose teeth that should reseat themselves, I don’t see any other injuries to his head or neck.”

  Johnny felt sick. He wanted to cry, but he had to be the strong one.

  “What do we do? How do you fix this?” he asked. “Are you sure that’s all? He’s getting sleepy. Are you sure he doesn’t have a concussion?”

  “Adrenaline crash,” Dr. Quick said gently. “No concussion, no intracranial bleeding.”

  “So he wears the nose guard to protect the nose, but what about the ribs?” Johnny asked.

  Dr. Quick patted Beep’s leg.

  “Just no roughhousing or lifting for a few weeks and they’ll heal. He’s young and kids’ bones are very pliable.”

  Just to prove he wasn’t as sleepy as they thought, Beep piped up with a question of his own.

  “Do I still have to take a bath?” Beep asked.

  It was the perfect comment to lighten the moment. Dr. Quick laughed.

  “As long as you let your brother wash your face so you don’t mess up the good job I did on your nose, you’ll be good to go. A warm bath might even make some of the aches you’re going to have feel better,” Dr. Quick said.

  “Shoot,” Beep said.

  “You have to take a bath,” Marshall said. “I wouldn’t want to sleep with you if you got stinky.”

  Beep winced as the movement of facial muscles caused him pain.

  “I sleep with you even when you fart,” Beep muttered.

  Marshal
l looked embarrassed.

  Dr. Quick caught Johnny’s eye. “Could we speak privately for a moment?” he asked.

  Johnny followed the doctor out into the hall. His heart was pounding, and he felt sick to his stomach. “What’s wrong? Is something else wrong that you’re not telling me?”

  “No, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to frighten you. I wanted to tell you that I have reported this to the police and they are on their way to talk to Brooks.”

  Johnny was relieved that decision had been taken out of his hands. He focused on what Dr. Quick was saying.

  “I’m speaking out of line, but you’re pretty young to have the responsibilities you have, and I don’t want to see you railroaded. I think you need to see a lawyer to protect your rights. At least make sure the responsible parties pay for the medical bills and hope the threat of a lawsuit makes the school take the appropriate action.”

  Johnny’s shoulders slumped. “I can’t afford a lawyer, Doc. I threw the word around a lot when I picked him up from school, but that’s not going to happen.”

  “You know Peanut Butterman, right? He has the law office above the old bank.”

  “Yes, sir,” Johnny said. Everyone knew Mr. Butterman. He was one of Blessings’s true characters.

  “Give him a call and tell him I referred you. Every so often, he takes a case pro bono when he thinks someone is about to get railroaded. I think this would be one of those cases.”

  Johnny was surprised and embarrassed. “I don’t want charity.”

  Dr. Quick put a hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “This isn’t about your pride, son. It’s about Brooks’s and Marshall’s welfare through the rest of their school days. In other words, tie a knot in their tails now, before shit gets out of hand.”

  Johnny got it. His pride didn’t matter as much as their safety. “Yes, sir. I hear you. And thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m very sorry this happened, but the police should be here soon. They will want to interview Brooks and let him say his piece. They’ll go to school and get those statements as well. You let Peanut work his magic, and you stay out of trouble in the process. Peanut will get the names of the parents, and the medical bills will go to them through him.”

  Johnny went back inside the room as the doctor left.

  Marshall was still holding Beep’s hand. “Are the cops gonna sweat Beep?” he asked.

  Johnny rolled his eyes. Someone had big ears, and he didn’t know where Marshall got his vocabulary. That sounded like something out of an old gangster movie from the 1940s. “No, Beep is not in trouble, and the police are only going to want to hear his side of the story.”

  Marshall frowned. “You can’t trust ’em.”

  Johnny stared at his brother in disbelief. “Marshall! Where is all this coming from? Since when have you become an expert on bad police procedure?”

  “I watch TV. I know how it goes down,” Marshall said.

  “I think your TV choices could be better, and we’ll be talking about that as well in our family meeting. In the meantime, you will be quiet, and you will be respectful when the police get here. Do you understand me?”

  Marshall ducked his head. “Yes, sir.”

  Beep reached for Johnny’s hand. “Don’t leave me alone with the cops,” he said.

  “What the hell?” Johnny muttered. “Have you been watching those shows with Marshall?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where?”

  “At Miss Jane’s after we get through with homework. She watches old cops-and-robbers movies.”

  “Good Lord,” Johnny muttered. He was going to have to have a talk with the sitter too. Could this day get any worse?

  There was a knock on the door, and then a uniformed officer from the Blessings Police Department walked in carrying a tripod and a camera case.

  Johnny breathed a sigh of relief. He knew and respected Lon Pittman. He would be fair. “Hey, Lon,” Johnny said.

  “Hello, Johnny. Dr. Quick has reported an assault on Brooks Pine, who I am assuming is your little brother, Beep. Can’t say as I ever knew his real name before today. I am going to video his statement, okay?”

  Johnny nodded. “Dr. Quick told us he called you. Beep will answer your questions. Won’t you, buddy?”

  Beep blinked and tightened his hold on Johnny’s hand.

  Lon was shocked at the condition of the little guy’s face and hated that his presence was adding to his discomfort. He quickly set up the camera and once it was in place, he moved just out of camera range. “It’s gonna be okay, Beep. You remember me from Career Day at school, right? I came in and talked to your class about obeying traffic laws and how you look both ways before you cross streets. I just want you to tell me what happened.”

  Chapter 3

  By the time Beep finished recounting the story, Lon was shocked at the viciousness of the attack and trying not to show it. He had everything on video, including Beep’s broken nose and swollen face, the missing patches of hair on the back of his head, as well as the large contusions on his back, thigh, and belly, which was turning a darker shade of purple where his ribs had been fractured.

  Lon turned off the camera. He would get the other boys’ statements as well, but there was no way on earth to explain away what they’d done. Four older, bigger boys had ganged up on one younger and smaller boy and kicked him until they broke him.

  Lon paused at the foot of Beep’s bed and patted his foot.

  “I’m sorry this happened,” Lon said.

  Beep blinked. “It won’t happen again, Officer Pittman.”

  “Oh yeah?” Lon said.

  Beep nodded. “I’m not gonna sleep with gum in my mouth no more, so they won’t be mad.”

  “Anymore,” Johnny said, “and none of this was your fault, Beep. Your hair is not their business. They are the ones who did something bad, okay?”

  Lon was sick to his stomach. Poor kid, still thinking it happened because he didn’t “look right.” He slipped his copy of the doctor’s report into a folder as he began gathering up his things.

  “I think that covers what I need. Y’all take care,” Lon said. He left quickly, anxious to get to school before it let out, leaving Johnny and the boys in the ER.

  Johnny glanced at Beep, then slid his hand across Marshall’s shoulder.

  “Marshall, you stay here with your brother until I get back. I’m going to find a nurse and get us checked out. I’ll be right outside, so don’t worry, okay?”

  Marshall nodded. “I can handle it. I’m not a kid anymore.”

  Johnny frowned. “Yes, you are, and I intend for you to stay that way until you’re old enough to say that and claim it. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” Marshall said softly.

  Johnny laid a hand on Marshall’s head to soften his words and then walked out of the room. His stomach was in knots. The boys who’d hurt Beep belonged to three upstanding families. He was convinced the boys would not be punished and Beep would not get justice for the assault.

  Inside the room, Marshall leaned across the bed and whispered in Beep’s ear, “Who hit you first?”

  Beep’s eyes welled. “Lewis Buckley.”

  Marshall’s eyes narrowed. “He won’t do it again.”

  Beep was worried. He’d never been in this much trouble before and was afraid to go back to school.

  “Everyone is going to hate me,” he whispered.

  Marshall frowned. “Why? You didn’t do anything wrong. Besides, I’ll take care of you, and if they don’t like me, they can kiss my ass.”

  “You said a bad word,” Beep said.

  Marshall shrugged.

  “I won’t tell,” Beep added and then closed his eyes, too miserable to talk anymore.

  * * *

  When Mavis saw Lon Pittman enter the school building with an expression on
his face similar to the one Johnny Pine had been wearing, her heart skipped a beat. He had called the cops. She glanced over her shoulder. She could still hear raised voices inside the principal’s office. This mess was about to get worse.

  Then the office door opened and Lon Pittman walked inside carrying a tripod and a camera case.

  “Afternoon, Mavis, I need to speak to Mrs. Winston.”

  Mavis shifted nervously in her chair as she straightened her jacket.

  “I’m sorry but she’s busy right now. If you don’t mind—”

  He tapped his badge. “She can get unbusy. This is police business.”

  Mavis nodded. “I’ll just let her know you’re—”

  “Are those kids in her office?”

  “What kids?” she asked, knowing full well the ones he meant.

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Mavis. I am not a happy man.”

  “I wasn’t playing,” Mavis muttered and then rolled her eyes as she realized she’d just acknowledged she was dumb. “I mean… Oh, never mind! Just a minute and I’ll see if—”

  “I asked you a question. Who’s in the office with her?”

  Mavis shivered. She liked her job just fine, but she’d never signed up to defy authority. The police trumped Mrs. Winston whether she liked it or not.

  “The kids and their parents,” she answered and watched a muscle jerk at the corner of his left eye.

  “Perfect. Now if you’ll just open the door for me,” he said.

  Mavis hurried to the door, knocked once, and then turned the knob so that the door would swing open. As soon as Officer Pittman was inside, she shut it behind him.

  Lon walked in with his chin up and his shoulders back and set down his things.

  Arlene Winston was stunned to see the police and realized this was spinning out of her control, but this was not the time to panic.

  “I’m sorry, Officer Pittman, but you—”

  Lon held up his hand as he coolly eyed the four boys and their parents.

  “No apology necessary. I see all the parties in question are here. I came to take statements about the assault.”