My thanks once again to Mike 0432 for his words of wisdom.
The Savage
Hi, my name is Simon, and I have anger issues.
I thought I had mastered them, but it appears I had only suppressed them. As a child, I had had court mandated anger management therapy, and medication, but that was all behind me now, the records sealed.
I had always been a fighter. Growing up as the runt of the litter in a family of 6 kids will do that to you.
My parents were hard-working folk, salt of the earth but great advocates of the 'spare the rod and spoil the child' school of parenting and so beatings, whilst not common and probably, if I'm honest, not undeserved were a part of my growing up. It happened to all us kids. Even the girls. If we stepped out of line, we got a painful reminder and put back sharpish.
We kids would also fight. Being the youngest and the smallest I often ended up on the bottom of the pile, and so had to rely on my wits, and dirty tricks to prevail. I got so good at it that my older brothers were wary of picking a fight with me one on one, but we still scrapped and squabbled as siblings do.
I'm making it sound like I was in an abusive household, which is far from the truth. We all loved each other and if anyone messed with any of my family, they would answer to me. The same went for any of us. But within the family, we had the normal issues a family, on a low income who are struggling to make ends meet, face.
Let me introduce my family.
Ma, whose real name was Mary-Beth, but I would never have, even now, dare to use it was a striking woman. Thin as a whip with a hard countenance and thin face. She ruled the roost and was the person most likely to deliver punishment. Even Pa got out of her way when she was riled. She kept the house and looked after us kids, but also worked mornings doing cleaning for the more upmarket houses at the other end of the town. I never saw that woman sit down. She was always on the go.
Pa, real name Daryl, was not a particularly big man, 5"10' I would estimate but by God he was strong. There was nothing that man could not move. He worked as a mechanic at the local haulage yard, maintaining their fleet of trucks. He would occasionally drive as well if they were short of drivers and it was a rare but much sought-after privilege to go out on a trip with him. They were usually fairly local trips, but never overnight. My overriding memory of him was the smell. He always smelled of diesel and farts.
Bella was the eldest child. And eight years older than me
Then came Tom, and James -- twins who were six years older
Then David was four years older.
Mary was supposed to be the last, they decided they wanted another girl and went for it. They were blessed with Mary only twelve months after David. That was going to be the finish of their family. Fate, however, had other ideas and a drunken fumble and a badly inserted diaphragm led to my birth three years later.
Don't get me wrong. Despite my being a 'mistake' I was not treated any differently or loved any less than any of my siblings. But I did grow up a little apart from them, and spent a lot of time on my own playing and exploring the woods at the back of our property.
So, to the incident that caused me to fall foul of the courts.
I was fifteen at the time and was on my way home from school.
As I believe I already mentioned we were not rich. Actually, we were dirt poor and because of this, we were often the butt of jokes and bullying. My brothers had run this gauntlet but after Bella's first two years, there were always siblings to support them. Bella had Tom and James, and they had each other, and then when David joined the school Tom and James were still there and by the time Mary went, David was there to watch her as her older brother.
By the time I went to school, David had left and although Mary was there, as a girl, she didn't have the presence to protect me. Not that I needed it. Within the first few weeks, I had had several scuffles with older students and firmly convinced my peers that messing with me was a bad idea.
After each fight, I would get sent home with a letter for my parents and would get beaten again for causing trouble. I felt it was unfair but knew better than to complain. It did, however, fuel my rage for the next fight and I fed off it
The thing that finally led to my being expelled from the school and standing in front of a judge happened as I was on my way home from school.
I was walking down the lane about a mile from our house when I heard laughing, and someone crying. As I came around a slight bend in the road I saw a group of four boys, surrounding my sister Mary. They had her school bag and were tossing it back and to, between them. I got closer and heard one of them, presumably the leader, say that she could have the bag back if she were to show them her breasts.
At that point, she froze, and one of the other boys grabbed her from behind. The leader dropped her bag to the ground and closed on her, grabbing her dress at the front and trying to look down it. It ripped and, laughing, he pulled harder all but ripping the top of her dress open to the waist, exposing her small, bra-covered, breasts. She tried to cover herself but the guy holding her had her arms pinned.
I released my rage.
The court was told that the guy who had been holding Mary would have to have reconstructive surgery to his face. One of the other boys would have both his arms in plaster for 6-8 weeks and the leader, the one who had ripped her dress, would never be able to have children. The other boy who had run off and summoned help told how I had attacked them without provocation, but Mary's story and the evidence of her bruises and torn dress mitigated things for me somewhat.
Even so, the prosecuting counsel branded me a 'Savage', unpredictable and dangerous person and that what I had done to those poor innocent boys was beyond the reasonable defense of my sister, even were her story to be true.
The court agreed and I was placed in juvenile detention until my eighteenth birthday and, as I said, had to undergo mandatory anger management therapy.
Prior to my being led away my family was allowed to say goodbye to me. I stood shamefacedly as Ma regarded me levelly. I could never tell what she was thinking. Then I saw something I had never seen before. A tear rolled down her cheek. She embraced me hard and whispered in my ear that she was proud of me. I, who had been expecting a rebuke, was stunned. I got hugs from Pa and the rest of my family, and even a kiss on the cheek from Beth and Mary, who lingered longest. They each told me how proud they were of how I had protected my sister.
The facility that I was taken to was halfway across the state, so I never expected any of them to come and visit me. Juvie was hard but manageable. My life so far had prepared me to look after myself and after a few tussles with the so-called bosses, they learned that it was easier to leave me alone. That isn't to say I didn't get picked on or get into fights, I did, but the beatings I delivered gained me enough respect to be left alone.
In my last year of confinement, I was surprised to be told that I had visitors and was taken to the visitor's room where Beth and a young man were sitting waiting for me.
Bella had grown into a striking young woman, not beautiful, but you could never expect that considering the stock. Her face wasn't as hard as Ma's, but she had the same eyes. She regarded me sadly.
The man was called Gerald and apparently was her husband. They had been married a year and he was a traveling salesman. He seemed nice enough but didn't speak at all.
"Simon," Bella began "there is no easy way to do this, so I will just come out and say it. There was an accident at home. There was a fire. Ma, Pa, and the others," At this point tears filled her eyes and she started to sob "they are all gone!!"
She threw her arms around me and began to sob into my shoulder. Gerald stood by patting her rather ineffectually on the back and murmuring something unintelligible.
I didn't put my arms around Bella, I sat there just staring, not really feeling anything. Finally, the guards separated us and after about another hour of visiting, Bella and Gerald left. It would be several years before I would see Bella again.
And so, the years of my confinement passed. Twice weekly anger management sessions, supplemented with medication (which I soon learned to cheek and spit out once I was alone) seemed to cure my rage, and on my eighteenth birthday, I was declared fit to be released into society. I got my GED while I was incarcerated, and my record was sealed. I had a clean slate, was given $200 and a bus ticket to the nearest town, and don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.
I didn't stay in the local town but traded up the bus ticket to go across the state line. Everyone knew that the local juvie disgorged its inmates into the local town so there was no getting away from it. However, when I arrived in Jacksonville Ohio, I had a fresh start. I told people that I had been displaced by the fire that had killed my family and that without family and friends I had decided to try and build a future for myself in a new town. I soon found work in a small auto shop, and a place to stay and started to rebuild my life.
I worked hard. My upbringing would have allowed nothing else, and after a while, I was allowed to do more. I apparently had inherited some mechanical aptitude from Pa and found the work easy and enjoyable. My aptitude was observed, and I was sent on courses eventually day release to school and ended up as a certified mechanic a mere 6 years later. My life was back on track, and I was enjoying myself. The owner of the auto shop, Mike, was only 5 years older than me but had married well. His wife had money and had fronted him the cash to set up the business. I found their relationship a little strange in that when we were alone, he was a great character, full of jokes and not averse to a practical joke. However, when Stephanie was around, he was much more subdued, he always deferred to her.
Stephanie in her turn was beautiful. Two years younger than Mike, she had long auburn hair and bright green eyes. she never failed to turn heads and she flirted outrageously with anyone and everyone. Even me. I found this uncomfortable at first and even spoke to Mike about it, concerned he would think I was trying to muscle in on his marriage. He laughed it off. "She just likes to be the center of attention," he said.
Three years later tragedy struck, and Mike was killed when a jack collapsed and pinned him under a car. I was out of the shop doing a road test and came back to find the sheriff and the local fire department trying to extricate him. But it was far too late for that.
It was the day after the funeral that his widow came to see me at my apartment. The shop had been closed since the accident, both due to the need for an investigation and out of respect. Mike's death was ruled accidental, he should have used stands to support the vehicle, but he was rushing to finish a job and took a chance. It surprised me as I had never seen him do that before, but we all take shortcuts from time to time.
"Simon," she said, "We need to talk."
I invited her in.
