Snow Days and More

Chapter 7
Part Seven

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Chapter Description: Important message follows the conclusion of this chapter....make sure to read it.

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I awoke Monday morning, feeling a million times better than I had on Sunday. I did feel a little achy, but not sick to my stomach. I got out of bed and went into my bathroom, needing to pee. I pulled my pajama pants and wet GoodNites down, which caused me a bit of concern. I hadn’t even felt that they were wet when I woke up. I did my deed, washed my hands, and went back to my room to get clean boxers. I grabbed a pair, and waved to Mom as I went back to the bathroom. She was coming out of her room.

I had just wiped my crotch dry and was sliding on the boxers when I happened to look into the full length mirror on the back of the door. I gasped and immediately began to cry. I had gotten out of bed, went to the bathroom, and was halfway done getting dressed, and never even noticed I had a pacifier in my mouth. I had gone about normal morning routine stuff with it in. I spit it out, and hurriedly finished dressing, running to my room and throwing myself on the bed.

Mom came in a moment later, to see what the matter was. I told her, and she just rubbed my back, trying to shush me.

"But Mom, why didn’t I realize I had it in my mouth?! Why?"

"I don’t know, doober. I just don’t know. Look, why don’t we go eat breakfast, if you feel up to it, and try to get it out of your mind. I’m going to call some of those therapists Dr. Wubble told us about, see if we can get an appointment soon. Okay?"

I nodded, wiping my tears away as best I could. Mom said she’d be in the kitchen, and I laid there alone for a moment, staring at the ceiling. Only one thought ran through my head.

I wet the bed. I wet my pants. I suck on a binky. I sleep with a stuffed animal. Am I a baby? I don’t want to be a baby.

I laid there for about five minutes, determined to stop the baby acts, to be a big kid again. I wouldn’t suck my thumb, or a binky. I’d put Mr. Wumpus back on the bookcase shelf. And most of all, I wasn’t going to wet my pants anymore.

Mom noticed the change in my attitude at once, as soon as I got to the kitchen. I was happier, not as depressed, and she asked me why.

"Because, I’m not going to be a baby anymore. Nope, not me, Mom," I said, pouring some Lucky Charms into my bowl. "I’m done with wetting my bed, no more binky, none of it. I’m a big kid, and it’s about time I acted like it."

"Well alright then," Mom said. "In that case, congratulations, doober."

After breakfast, I was in the den, putting a jigsaw puzzle together with Mom, when the phone rang. Mom went to answer it, and I heard half of the conversation again.

"Hello?...Maggie, hi, what’s up?...What?...You have got to be joking...What did Mr. Pendleton say about it?...And what am I supposed to do to change it?...I don’t know if I can do that. I’ll either have to bring my son along, or try and find a sitter...No, his school is closed for a while, the roof caved in after the storm last week...Well, tell Mr. Pendleton I’ll call him in a bit...Okay, I’ll hold..."

Mom poked her head into the room then, letting me know there was a problem at her office, the one she never really had to go to, and that she had to go in. Then someone came back on the line, and she went back to the kitchen.

"Hello, Mr. Pendleton, Beth Dunlap here...Yes, like I told your assistant, I’ll need to either bring my son with me, or try and find a sitter...I see. Well, then I’ll have to find one, won’t I? Let me call you back to let you know when I’ll be in. Yes, you to sir. Bye."

Mom walked back in, and told me that her boss, the owner of the architecture firm she worked for, didn’t allow children in the office, and with Tiffany in school (her school wasn’t broke, remember), a babysitter needed to be found.

"Mom, why can’t I just stay home alone. I mean, I’ve done it before. And I know I’m grounded, but can’t you cut me some slack?"

"I don’t know, Nick. Let me go get dressed, and I’ll think about it, okay? In the meantime, I need you to get those edge pieces found and put together." She went up to her room to change then, and I went back to work on the 1000 piece puzzle. I seriously hoped Mom would let me just stay home. I couldn’t think of anyone who could watch me anyway. Maybe Mrs. Louis could, since the kindergarten was closed too, and she didn’t have class to teach, but I doubted Mom would let me go to Jay’s house, with me being grounded and all.

"Nick," Mom said twenty minutes later, dressed for her office. "I’ve decided to let you stay home. No sitter, but trust me, Nicholas, no crap either. I talked to my boss, I should be able to resolve the issue we’re having down there pretty quick, and get home early. Like, 3:00 or so. Depends on the issue and traffic of course."

"Thank you, Mom! I won’t let you down, I swear. I’ll even try and finish this puzzle before you get home."

"Well, I’ll settle for the edges, doober. Now, there’s soup in the fridge, you know how to heat it up. If you need anything, call me at once. Don’t answer the door..."

I cut her off. "Mom, I know. No door, don’t answer the phone unless it’s you...and Dad, I guess, but I doubt he’d call. Don’t go outside. Call 9-1-1 in an emergency. I am eleven, Mom, you’ve taught me well. Now go, before your boss gets mad at you."

"Right. I’ll call you when I get to the office, and before I leave. I have my cell phone too, of course. I love you, Nick."

"Love you too, Mom, no go," I laughed. "I’ll be fine. I can call Mrs. Louis too, if I need anything."

She agreed that was a good thought, that if I needed her, and she was in New York (where her office was at), and Mrs. Louis was a mile away, it made more sense to call her. And then she left, leaving me home alone for only the third time in my life.

At first, it was fine. I got half of the edge done on the huge puzzle, but I was bored by it. I headed to the kitchen for a snack, getting a Jell-O cup and some juice, and plopped down in the den. I kind of defied my grounding by turning the X-Box on, but figured if Mom didn’t know, it would be okay. I played Need For Speed for a while, then got guilty about breaking the ’no-video games’ rule, so I shut it off, and decided to watch some TV, and talked to Mom for a moment when she called to let me know she had made it to the city fine. She said the problem they were having was kind of serious, and might be there a little later than expected.

"Don’t worry, doober," she told me. "If I’m going to be late, I’ll call Mrs. Louis. I’m sure she’ll let you stay over there. For now, I guess, your grounding is lifted. You can play the X-Box if you want. I don’t want my doober bored all day, okay?"

"Thanks, Mom. Call me when you know when you’ll be home. Love you."

Even with the amnesty I had about the X-Box, I didn’t play it anymore. I was into a movie on TV, and wanted to finish it.

Just as it was over, at about 11:45, the doorbell rang. I froze, and didn’t move. I knew not to go answer it, since I was home alone. Whoever it was could come back, I figured. The doorbell rang some more, then there was knocking on it.

Just then, the phone rang, and when I looked at the caller ID, I felt a wave of revulsion flow through me. It was my Dad’s new wife, Mona. I let the machine pick up, and after the greeting, listened to Mona’s message.

"Hello, is anyone there? This is Mona Dunlap," I heard. I hated that she had the same last name as me now. "I knocked on the door, and rang the bell, but no one answered. I guess you’re out. Anyway, this call is for Beth. Beth, Mike wanted me to drop off the alimony and child support checks. I left them in an envelope taped to the front door. Call me or Mike if you will when you get this message. Let us know you got them. Thanks, bye."

So, I thought. That’s who was knocking. I was really glad I didn’t answer it. I got up, figuring Mona had left already, and opened the front door to get the envelope she said she had taped there, but to my surprise, she was just in the process of taping it up.

"Nicky, hey there, where we you guys," she said, trying to sound chipper. And oh my, I hated when she called me Nicky. "I knocked and rang and called. No one answered."

I just stood there, wishing her gone. She didn’t leave. She tried to come in instead. I went to block her entry, but being that I’m four feet tall, she just brushed me aside.

"Hey, you can’t come in here," I said. "You need to leave right now, Mona. I mean it, now."

"Now now, Nicky, I need to talk to your Mommy. Beth? Where are you? I have the checks, Beth."

"She’s not here, Mona. You can leave them with me and I’ll make sure she gets them," I said icily as she just went deeper and deeper into the house.

"What do you mean, you silly boy? Did Mommy go and leave you all alone?" I really hated when she talked down to me like that. I wanted to punch her in the face, but kept my cool. The last time I had spent the night at my Dad’s I had hit her, shoved her actually, and it wasn’t pretty. Dad was super mad at me. He actually spanked me that night. The worst of it was Mona. She didn’t get mad at me for shoving her. She actually defended me, saying that I was just a little boy, and sometimes boys’ tempers got the best of them. Which was rare for her. She was usually way mean to me. She was always trying to play ’Mommy’ to me, and when I rejected her, she got mean.

"Yes, Mona, she did. I am eleven, you know. And I can stay home alone. Now please, I want you to leave."

I tried to sound all adult and grown up, but Mona just frowned at me. "Nicky, I don’t think that leaving you home alone is a very good idea on your Mommy’s part. Where did she go, anyway?"

"She had to go to her office," I said, not thinking it through. Mona knew where Mom worked, and how far it was.

"So she went all the way to the city, over an hour away, and left you here all alone? My goodness, I think I need to call her."

"Mona, no, it’s fine, just leave, okay? I’m not a baby."

"Ssh, Nicky, I’m on the phone," she said back to me, holding her cell phone to her ear. I just huffed and crossed my arms, trying to look as annoyed as I could. After a moment, Mona got through to my Mom.

"Beth, it’s Mona. I stopped by the house just now, to leave the checks for January, and Nicky says you left him here?...No, I don’t think it’s fine, Beth. He’s a little boy, and you leave him to go to your office?...That’s not the point, Beth...Look, let’s not fight, okay? All I’m saying is this. Nicky is too young, in my opinion, to be home alone all day. Why don’t I take him, and you can pick him up when you leave work?"

When I heard that, my blood turned to ice. No flipping way would Mom go for that. Would she? Apparently, she did. Mona spoke to my Mom for a few more minutes, me not really listening, and then handed me her cell, telling me Mom wanted to talk to me.

"Mom," I said as soon as I had the phone. "You aren’t going to make me go with her, are you?"

"Well, Nick, yes, I think it would be a good idea. You were sick yesterday, and I think that being with her is wise, in case you start to feel sick again."

"Yea, I’m feeling sick now, Mom." I hoped she got the sarcastic tone to my remark.

"Doober, listen, I know you don’t like Mona. Neither do I. You know that. But she is an adult, and she has a point. Look, it’s one day, kiddo. One measly day. Can you try to just deal with it as best you can? Please, for me?"

"Whatever, Mom. Did you find out when you’ll be home," I asked, hoping it would be early.

"Yea, I should be out of her about 2:30 or so. I have to run to Morristown real quick after, to deliver some plans, and then I’ll be there to get you. And, as a reward, we can grab some Wendy’s for dinner. Sound good?"

It did. Mom was a stickler about fast food, calling it no better than junk food. So a trip to Wendy’s was worth it.

"Fine, okay, I’ll go. Call me before you leave?"

"I will. Let me talk to her again real quick. I love you, doober, see you tonight."

"Love you too, Mom," and handed the phone back. I trudged into the den to sulk while Mona wrapped up her phone call to Mom. She came in a moment later.

"Okay, squirt," she said, using a nickname I despised. "Do you want to bring some toys with you to play with?"

"No, I don’t really play with toys, Mona. Watch TV? Yes. Play X-Box? Yes. Why do you keep treating me like I’m a little kid?"

"I don’t mean to, Nicky. Look, I’m just trying to be a good Mom to you." Wrong words. Big time wrong.

"What did you say to me?" I said, my voice as low as dirt. "Let’s get one thing clear, Mona. You are not my Mom. You will never be my Mom. And if you ever call yourself my Mom again, I’ll flip out on you. I mean it."

"Wow, someone’s cranky," she said, taken aback slightly. "Fine, I’m not your Mom. I am, however, your step-mom. And right now, step-mom says it’s time to go. I have to run to the post office and then we’ll go to my house."

I was shaking, in anger mostly, as I went to the coat closet and shrugged into my kid-sized bomber jacket, a gift from my cousin Ollie, who flew the F/A-18 for the Navy. It even had an actual patch from his fighter wing, VFA-102, the Diamondbacks, and one of the ship he was on, the USS Kitty Hawk. It was one of my favorite things in the world, and I wanted to be a fighter pilot like Ollie was one day, if I ever got taller.

I got into Mona’s Mercedes, and jacked my iPod up to max level, trying to drown out the classical music she always had on with the sweet sounds of Metal. At a red light, though, Mona turned in her seat, waving to get my attention.

"What?" I said, pulling one of the buds out, letting it dangle.

"My point exactly, Nicky. I’ve been calling you for five minutes now, and you can’t hear me. You have that music way to loud. I want you to turn it down, or turn it off."

"Whatever," I said, and popped the bud back in. If I could have turned it up more, I would have, damage to my ears or not. I watched Mona’s mouth moving, gloriously not hearing a word she said, and smiled at her in the mirror, sarcastically holding my ear, as if to say ’sorry, can’t hear you, too bad.’ She just thumped her steering wheel in annoyance, and I giggled inside. If I could break her down, I’d be so happy.

We stopped at the post office, and Mona made me turn the iPod off. "I am not leaving you in this car alone, Nicky. Now shut it off, and let’s go."

After she was done in the post office, we went back to her car. She tried to hold my hand, but I jerked it away. Back in the car, I went to put my iPod back on, but Mona snatched it from my hands.

"HEY!" I shouted. "GIVE THAT BACK!"

"No, Nicky, I won’t. Not until you agree to listen to it at a more respectable level. I am in charge of you for today, and I won’t have you ruining your ears with that...whatever kind of music it is you and your father listen to. Garbage if you ask me."

"Mona, give me back my f****** iPod, now." I had never sworn at her before, or at any adult. Sure, I had used bad words when it was just me and friends, but never to a grown-up.

"Just for that, Mr. Potty-Mouth, no, I will not give it back. I want you to sit back and be quiet until we get home. I’ll deal with your choice of language when we get there. Do I make myself crystal clear, boy?"

"F*** off, Mona, take me to my house, now. I don’t want to go to your house now. Just take me home and go away."

I never saw it. I never once had a glimpse of it coming. One moment I was staring defiantly at my step-mother, the next, I was holding my cheek, tears filling my eyes. Mona had slapped my face. Hard.

"WHAT THE HELL?" I shouted a second later. "TAKE ME HOME NOW!" My cheek really hurt, bad. I saw Mona raise her hand, as it to slap me again, and I shrank back, away from her, screaming at her to stop.

"Then you sit back, Nicky, and shut up. I won’t tolerate little boys swearing at me. Clear? I said an I clear?"

"Yes, whatever, just leave me alone, Mona, leave me alone." To my relief, she did just that, turning back around and starting her car and leaving the post office parking lot. I cried and rubbed my cheek as we drove along, and before I knew it, we were at her house.

"Out of the car, Nicky," she said to me. "And in the house."

I got out, and yanked my arm away when she tried to grab my hand, as it to hold it like I was a real little kid. She just reached down and grabbed at it again, and got hold of my wrist. I fought and struggled with her, but she was too strong, and pulled me through the door into her and Dad’s huge house. She took me into what she called the front sitting room (but looked like any other den to me), and sat down on the couch, holding my wrist in her hand.

"Now, Nicky, I am not happy with your choice of language today. You may not love me, you may not like me. But by God, boy, you will respect me. Using words such as those isn’t at all respectful. It’s very rude, in fact."

"Like I care, Mona. Let me go now, and I won’t tell my Mom what a witch you’ve been to me today."

"Oh, I’ll let you go, little one. After you say sorry to me for the bad words."

"No, I won’t. You stole my iPod, Mona. I wanted it back. You deserved what I said."

"Really? Well, maybe a trip over your Daddy’s lap will make you see that what I deserve is respect and an apology. I can arrange it, Nicky, that you spend the night here tonight, and let Daddy deal with this."

"I’m not spending the night, Mona. And you will let me go, now."

"No, Nicky, I don’t think I can. And I don’t think I’m going to wait for Daddy," she said, pulling me to her, and forcing me over her lap. I screamed so loud, cursing and kicking my legs. She just trapped my legs between hers, leaving me bent over her lap, and began to wail on my rear.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

For a skinny woman, like she was, her hand hurt so bad. I was crying and pleading with her to stop, but she didn’t.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

By ten, I would have agreed that I was a little space alien from Pluto if that’s what it would take for her to stop. Even when Dad had spanked me the night I shoved Mona, he hadn’t hurt me that bad. And he had spanked me only three times. I was sobbing, crying so hard I was hiccupping, my nose was leaking snots all over, and I almost threw up. By fifteen, my situation was a lot worse. In the course of her spanking/beating me, I had lost my bladder, and wet my pants, soaking my jeans and Mona’s left leg.

"What the..." she cried as she felt the warm pee roll down her leg, drenching her expensive pants. "Oh my God, Nicky, what the hell is wrong with you? Get off of me, you beast." And she shoved me to the floor, where I curled up in a ball, crying my brains out. I wanted to get up and run away, get to a phone and call the cops, call my Mom, call someone to come make it better. But I couldn’t move. My whole body hurt. I was vaguely aware that Mona was standing over me, but I just closed my eyes, willing myself elsewhere.

To Be Continued...

Note: When I began writing this story, I didn’t know where it was going to go. Where it has gone, however, is from me putting words on paper...well, screen...to being something of a modified version of my own life-story. The dream/nightmare, for example, is based on a real dream I had often as a child. The interactions between the Mona and Nick characters, and my own interactions with my real-life step-mother, are similar. My own step-mother never spanked me, but I did cuss her out one day, and got a mouth washing from her.

My intention was not to write an autobiography, but that is the shape it’s taking, somewhat. It’s becoming more and more emotional for me to write this, and I may have to step back from it for a while. Writing some of this has actually caused me tears, caused me to cry. To the point my five-year-old daughter told me she’s worried about me. That occurred as I was writing the spanking scene, about fifteen minutes ago, and she saw me sitting her, typing, tears running down my cheeks. Hearing her say she was worried about me made me think. It’s not my place in life to make my little girl worry about me. I feel that it’s my job to worry about her.

Bottom line, I am going to take some time off from this project, reflect on my own childhood, see where I want this to go. I don’t want to leave you good readers hanging. I hate when writers do that. They say ’To Be Continued’, and then never return to finish it. I will finish this. I had hoped to have it wrapped and completed within a week. But seeing my DD’s little face, all scrunched up with worry tells me I need a break. So, this will be the last part for as long as it takes. Sorry if that upsets some of you who may be looking forward to more soon. But my DD comes first.

Until then,

nickyd

 

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