Redirecting Billy

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Redirecting Billy Page 7

by JR Thompson


  “Why don’t you do something about your weight then?”

  Dennis laughed. “Maybe I like being different; ever think of that?”

  “Oh, please,” Mr. Bones muttered. “Okay, look. I’m going to put a note in your file; if you skip any more classes this semester, I’m going to petition the judge to revoke your right to probation. Got me?”

  “I hear ya, Mr. Philly.”

  “I plan to check in with your guidance counselor on a weekly basis. Don’t let me get a bad report.”

  “No worries. If I think she might say something bad about me, I’ll slit her throat.” Dennis chuckled again.

  “Please don’t laugh about things like that,” Mr. Bones told him.

  “You don’t have a good sense of humor, do you, Mr. Philly?”

  If that kid said Mr. Philly one more time, the probation officer feared he might throw him through the wall. For the boy’s safety, he had to get Dennis out of the building as soon as possible. “Okay… we need to wrap this up,” he said. “Everything else going okay?”

  “Yeah. I guess so.”

  “Good. In that case, you can see yourself out. I’ll be looking forward to meeting with you next month.”

  “Cool beans.”

  Philip was thrilled to death to see the annoying teenager leave his office while he was still in one piece. After giving him a minute, he walked back out to his reception’s desk. “Billy still hasn’t shown up?”

  “No, sir… Sorry.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of… I’m heading out.”

  Rose was clearly not happy with Philip’s decision, but she kept her thoughts to herself.

  Philip drove the route he thought Billy would have taken from his school to the courthouse. There were no signs of him. Parking at the school, he approached the door. It was locked: there was no indication that a ball game or extracurricular event was being held.

  Dialing Tamara’s number again, Philip was discouraged by still not receiving an answer. He wasn’t about to leave a second voicemail. Hopping back in his car, the probation officer drove up and down streets and alleys for a couple of hours, occasionally getting out and asking people if they had seen the boy. Short on leads, Philip drove to Tamara’s place and knocked on the door. To his surprise, Billy answered, “What you want, Bones?”

  The probation officer was livid, “I have been searching for you for hours! What are you doing here? Where’s your mother?”

  “Don’t you be gettin’ an attitude with my son,” Tamara shouted in the background. “Billy, you get in here and let me take care of this man!”

  Mr. Bones was shocked. He thought maybe the boy had gone there on his own to hide out for a while — the last thing he had expected was to find Tamara home.

  Billy smirked and walked back inside.

  Tamara stomped to the door and cocked her head, “You have some nerve coming here, Mr. Bones!” she screamed.

  Mr. Bones had no idea what she was upset about. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “You are somethin’ else! Demanding my baby preach a sermon when the good Lord ain’t called him to be no preacher! What kind of blaspheme is that?”

  “I’m trying to teach your son a lesson about respecting others.”

  Tamara put one hand on her hip. “You talk me into lettin’ my son move in with you, and then you pull somethin’ like this?”

  Mr. Bones was as confused as all get out as Tamara continued bawling him out, “I may not be a church-goer, but I have enough fear of the Lord to know better than to mess with Him. It ain’t right to use God to be gettin’ back at somebody!”

  “I’m not using God to do anything,” Mr. Bones replied.

  “You might be able to convince yourself of that, Mr. Bones, but I, for one, ain’t buyin’ it! You know what? You get off of my property! You weren’t invited here!”

  “Mrs. Andrews, are you—”

  “Leave now, Mr. Bones, or I’m going to call the police and report you for trespassing!”

  It was bad enough when clients seemed to have multiple personalities, but when their parents did, it made mentoring nearly impossible.

  13

  After mowing the lawn, Billy meandered inside to find a note:

  Went out with some girlfriends.

  Be back late tonight,

  Momma

  Fine, Billy told himself. If you’re going out, so am I! The fourteen-year-old barged into his mother’s room and swiped the twenty-dollar bill laying on her dresser. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.

  Billy knew none of the convenience stores in the area would sell him any of the good stuff — that’s where having a twenty-one-year-old friend came in handy. Billy walked down the block to Tyrone’s place. “Hey man, I’m looking for a drinking buddy — you game?”

  “I’d love to, Billy but this boy is b-r-o-k-e.”

  “I got twenty bucks here, man.”

  “Sweet...” Tyrone slipped his sandals on. “Hang here, and I’ll go across the street and get us some beers.”

  While his friend was away, Billy made himself right at home. Pilfering through the fridge, he helped himself to a plate of leftover lasagna, knowing Tyrone wouldn’t mind. Knowing Tyrone, if Billy didn’t eat it, it would end up growing mold and being tossed in the garbage anyway.

  Billy was still stuffing his face when Tyrone returned with their buddy, Mark. The guys cranked up some music and got their party going. Within an hour, they were completely plastered.

  With the alcohol making him irritable, Billy turned on Tyrone, “Where’s that watch I sold you?”

  “What watch?”

  “The one I told you I got from my daddy… I want it back, Ty.”

  “You want it back? Are you crazy?”

  “I wasn’t thinking when I sold it to you, man. It has sentimental value.”

  “It’s not for sale.”

  “Come on, man. This is important to me.”

  “So?”

  Billy stood and staggered toward him, “You have no idea how much trouble I got in for selling that thing. I need it.”

  “How badly?”

  “I’d give anything man. My wallet, my shoes, my firstborn child… anything!”

  “Really?...” Tyrone laughed. “How’s $2,000 sound to you?”

  Billy raised his voice, “$2,000?... It ain’t worth but $800.”

  Tyrone chuckled again, “Thanks for the information, man. I got myself quite the bargain then, didn’t I?”

  “Please, Tyrone... I thought we were friends.”

  “We are, Billy. But I’m not quite as tight with you as I am with that pile of greenbacks. You hear me?”

  Mark staggered over, “Tyrone, don’t be like that. It belonged to his dad. The man died, remember?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “Give it to him, man.”

  “And what you gonna do about it if I don’t?”

  Mark chest-bumped Tyrone, “Give it to the boy!”

  Tyrone shoved him backward, leaving Billy little choice but to step between the two, “Stop guys. It ain’t worth this.”

  Mark knocked Billy out of his way and tackled Tyrone to the ground. He threw a couple of punches, ignoring Billy’s pleas for him to stop. Billy grabbed Mark from the back and jerked him off of Tyrone. It was the right thing to do — but it backfired. Tyrone swung at Mark but in his drunken state, hit the wrong person. Blood oozed from Billy’s lip.

  “See what you did, now?” Mark shouted. “You just assaulted a minor!” With that, he gave Tyrone a second beating.

  Billy rushed out of the house, struggling to hold his pants up as he went. He wanted no part of whatever went down in there.

  When he got back to the house, he was shocked to find his mother pulling into the driveway. “You’re early, Momma.”

  “And you’ve been fighting!” she scolded.

  “I had a good reason, Momma.”

  “Ain’t never no good reason for fighting. Let’s get you inside so I
can have a look at that lip.”

  “I’m fine, Momma. It ain’t no big deal.”

  “I’ll make that decision.” Tamara grabbed his ear, “Inside… march!”

  Instead of telling his mother what really took place, Billy said, “I took a walk, and while I’s out, I ran into that crook that swindled me outta Daddy’s pocket watch. I told him you wanted to buy it back and the buster laughed in my face. I tried to reason with him, Momma. I told him all about how Daddy died and about how it belonged to his daddy before him. But the dude didn’t care ‘bout nothin’ but his money.”

  “So, you hit him?”

  “Well… yeah! What’d you expect me to do, Momma? Just let him hold onto Daddy’s watch?”

  His mother half-smiled, “So, you got it back from him?”

  “I tried to, Momma.”

  “You tried to? You found the guy that has that watch, and you didn’t get it from him?”

  “Momma, I tried!”

  “Not hard enough! Go to your room. I can’t even stand the sight of you!”

  “But, Momma—”

  “Now, Billy!”

  Billy shook his head while stomping to his room. Sometimes he couldn’t stand living in that house. He’d rather sleep under a bridge than put up with her attitude.

  For half an hour or so, he laid there sulking. He would have continued longer had his mom not barged into the room and threw the phone at him. “Talk to the man,” she snapped.

  “Who is it?”

  “Just pick up the phone and talk to him. You’ll find out.”

  “Fine,” Billy grumbled, pulling the phone up to his ear. “Who this be?”

  “Billy, it’s Mr. Bones... I understand you got yourself into a boxing match.”

  How did his probation officer find out about it so quickly? It didn’t matter. What was done was done. “So… what of it?”

  “You violated your probation,” Mr. Bones said.

  “Lock me up then!... See if I care!”

  “It might just come to that, Billy. Your mother called me because she’s concerned about you.”

  Billy glared at his mom. That explained how Mr. Bones found out about it — she had gone and snitched on him! “Momma ain’t concerned about nobody but herself,” Billy said hatefully.

  “Your mother loves you, Billy. She feels like this wouldn’t have happened had she made you go through with preaching that sermon. It’s important for you to learn to accept responsibility for your actions. That’s why she called me.”

  Billy smirked, “She just telling you what you want to hear, Mr. Bones. That’s Momma for you — the queen manipulator herself. She ain’t sorry. She just want me outta her hair.”

  “I don’t believe that, Billy… Regardless though, I want to know your thoughts. Do you want to come back to my place for a while?”

  That was a stupid question if Billy ever heard one. “Nah, man. You got too many rules.”

  “So, you’d rather stay where you are?”

  “No… I’d rather be behind bars. Just tell that old judge I ain’t be deserving no probation. Tell him I belong in juvie, man.”

  Mr. Bones sighed, “Let me talk to your mother, please.”

  “Gladly.”

  Billy listened as his mother said, “So, you gonna come pick him up or shall I bring him to you?... What?... You’re blaming me?... What gives you the right?… I did not take away your authority with my son!… No, I did not!... So, you won’t let him stay with you?... I thought you cared about teenagers… Oh yeah, it’s only the white ones you concern yourself with — what was I thinking?... Fine, fine, okay… I can come by tomorrow morning… will 11:30 work?... Yeah, yeah. See you then.”

  Not hearing the other side of the conversation, Billy felt himself tensing up. “What was that all about?” he asked as his mother hung up the phone.

  “I don’t rightly know. Your probation officer wants me to stop by his office in the morning so we can talk.”

  Billy smiled innocently, “So, I get to miss school?”

  “No, Billy. He wants to meet with me. He specifically said not to bring you along.”

  Billy raised his voice. “What?... He can’t do that! You ain’t on probation; I am. Ain’t no reason for you and him to be talkin’ when I ain’t around!”

  “Yes, he can do that, Billy. I’ll let you know what it’s about when you get home from school tomorrow. Okay?”

  “Yeah, whatever.”

  14

  A meeting with Tamara Andrews was certain to be about as pleasant of an experience as hugging a porcupine, but it was the only way. If Mr. Bones couldn’t reach her, Billy would continue spiraling further and further out of control.

  “So, what’s the deal, Mr. Bones? I’m assuming you have a new game plan for my son?”

  “I do have something in mind. I believe I know how to get his attention, but it’s going to require diligent teamwork.”

  “I ain’t got no problem with that. What you want me to do?”

  Mr. Bones leaned forward in his chair, “Mrs. Andrews—”

  “Please call me Tamara.”

  “Sorry about that…” Mr. Bones said. “Tamara, Billy is the type of young man who needs to have his will broken through harsh penalties. He likes to play one adult against another. I would love to continue working with your son outside of my normal work hours. However, it’s not going to do the boy any good if you and I cannot stay on the same page.”

  Tamara pursed her lips, “I don’t see why that should be a problem.”

  That was what Mr. Bones was afraid of. The woman didn’t get it. She truly didn’t understand how her poor decisions were causing her son to fail in life. How could he get her to understand without starting a war that would inevitably end with Billy’s defeat?

  Mr. Bones would have to choose his words carefully. “Ma’am, you love that child; I can see that,” he began. “But sometimes love can’t be gentle; nor can it be overly protective. Billy requires firm, consistent consequences — from both of us. And he can never, under any circumstances, get the upper hand by turning us against one another.”

  “So, you and I are always right, and Billy is always wrong?... Is that what you’re saying?”

  The sarcasm in her voice was unmistakable. If Mr. Bones weren’t careful, the lady he was trying to form an alliance with would soon become his enemy. “Not exactly… but yeah, I guess… kind of.”

  “Listen, Mr. Bones. I wasn’t born last night — If I agree to never get upset with you no matter what my son tells me, I would be giving you the liberty to abuse him any way you choose.”

  Mr. Bones sighed, “This isn’t going to work, Tamara. I might as well petition the judge to have his probation revoked.”

  “What?” Tamara snapped. “Why won’t it work?”

  “Because you are not willing to allow anyone to reach your son.”

  “So, you’re back to this thing about blaming me for all of my son’s problems?”

  Mr. Bones couldn’t tell her to wear the shoe if it fit, even though the words were teetering on the tip of his tongue. Somehow he had to get her to take the blinders off. “Not entirely,” he said. “Billy is old enough to make decisions for himself. He can choose to do right, or he can choose to do wrong… However, you are making it easier for him to be disobedient. You have good intentions but shielding your son from discipline is the worst decision you can make.”

  Tamara started fiddling with one of her earrings.

  “Do you understand what I’m saying?” Mr. Bones asked her.

  “Oh, I understand alright! You’re just like everybody else. Gonna tell me the apple don’t fall very far from the tree. Not like I ain’t never heard that one before.”

  Mr. Bones leaned back in his chair. “Tamara, the choice is yours. You can allow me to work with your son or you can continue raising him the way you have been without my assistance. But… ask yourself this — how has that been working out for you? The young man is stealing from people,
he never takes responsibility for anything he does wrong, he’s manipulative... Do you truly believe any of that will improve if you keep training him the same way you have been?”

  Tamara shook her head.

  “Thank you for being honest… Neither do I.”

  “What do you suggest, Mr. Bones?”

  Mr. Bones was hoping she would ask that. He had given the situation a great deal of thought and prayer. “I would like to try an approach I refer to as the ‘Get What’s Coming To You’ method.”

  Tamara snickered, “What’s that mean?”

  Things were turning around. Tamara was beginning to listen, and it appeared, at least for the time being, that the two would be able to form an alliance after all. “Well, for beginners,” the probation officer said, “like I told Billy at my place, he needs to start receiving consequences that closely match his behaviors.”

  “Like the sermon?”

  “Exactly! He needs to study for a sermon so he can see how much work goes into one. He then needs to present it to the best of his ability — it was just going to be in my presence, but now that he manipulated you to get out of his consequence, he needs to present it to both of us.”

  “I’m down with that plan,” Tamara said.

  “And after he does, no matter how good it sounds, neither one of us can compliment him. Instead, we’re going to critique the fire out of his sermon.”

  “Even if he does a fantastic job?”

  “Oh, yeah! He needs to get what’s coming to him.”

  “Okay,” Tamara smiled. “What else you got?”

  Mr. Bones appreciated her enthusiasm. He wasn’t sure what changed, but her entire attitude was different. He hoped his next idea wouldn’t do away with the progress he had made. “Tamara, do you feel you’re a strong disciplinarian?”

  Tamara took a deep breath. “To be honest, no… But I don’t know how to change that.”

  “I can help you in that area… Going forward, when Billy acts up, I want you to send him to his room like you did the other night. After his door’s closed, step outside so Billy can’t hear you and secretly give me a call. We will figure out his consequences together. It’s important that you don’t allow Billy to figure out you’re calling. That will undermine your authority with him.”

 

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