Chapter 2

Suffice it to say,fourth grade was a confusing time for me.I had no interest in talking about boobs or bras.Or even cute girls.I had no idea why my friends were so drawn to these topics.I knew there was something different about me then,but I just couldn’t put my finger on it.Why didn’t I care about these things?(This is what I now refer to as“Clue#1.”)

That question was answered nearly three years later when I attended one of our annual family reunions.I was only one week away from starting seventh grade.

It was incredibly hot and humid,a typical August day in the Midwest,and the reunion was being held mostly outside as a large family barbecue.It was always a pretty big affair,as my grandparents each had several siblings.That year it was being held about an hour out of town at a great-aunt’s dairy farm.

I was missing a friend’s birthday party at a laser tag center and less than happy about it.Needless to say,I spent most of the drive pouting and sighing loudly while staring out the window.

My dad,who usually ignored me unless it was to tell me to“grow up,”“man up,”or“shut up,”decided he had dealt with enough,finally barking that I needed to“shape up”or he was going to“give me something to pout about.”

I knew that tone and sat up straight,panic filling my chest.My mom turned to look at me tenderly,her lips curving up.She could always calm my fears;she knew how scared I was of my dad and was there to protect me.My younger sister,Pamela,looked just as panic-stricken and my mother gave her a small smile,too.

For a little while,the only sound in the car was the Christian music my dad listened to.Instrumental only.My panic slowly ebbed and I looked out the window again,watching the farms that dotted the land pass by.Jeez,there were a lot of them.I sighed and resigned myself to a day of boredom.Until my mom spoke up.

“Aaron,did I tell you your cousin,Jason,will be there?”

My eyes widened at the news and I swiveled my head to see her.“He will?That’s great!”NowI was excited.Jason was only one year older than me and we had been practically inseparable for years,until his family moved to California when his dad got a new job.I hadn’t seen him in over a year and had really missed him.We were actually second cousins,twice removed or something like that,and not even blood-related because his mom already had him when she’d married into the family.But it didn’t matter,we had always felt more like brothers.Suddenly,the day was looking up.

I looked at Pamela with excitement,but she was leaning against the headrest with her eyes closed.I wasn’t sure if she was sleeping or not,but I left her alone.I had already learned that girls,even seven-year-olds,were full of drama and I wasn’t about to be the target of her next meltdown.

I kept quiet,trying to ignore the music that made me want to stick a fork in my ear,and kept my eyes on the moving landscape.Time crept slowly,but it usually did when I was in a tight space with my dad and fighting the urge to flee the car.

We finally pulled up to a picturesque farm with a massive black iron sign arching across the wide drive,announcing we’d arrived at Pickard Dairy.Two enormous metal cows,probably taller than I was at the time,stood on each side of the entrance.We drove through the front gate,following the signs posted in the grass with arrows pointing to a field on the far side of a large red barn.

I kept my eyes on the people mingling on the grass while my dad parked in the makeshift lot where more than twenty other cars were already sitting.I was eager to stretch my legs and escape the heavy weight of my dad’s silent anger.I was old enough to know his moods,and any family affair always brought out his temper.As soon as the car stopped,I jumped out,eliciting a stern warning from my dad.

“Aaron!You wait for us,”he warned,his voice tight.

Yes.Of course.Family.Dad was big on making us look like the perfect family.It didn’t matter that once or twice a month he came home drunk in the middle of the night and beat the shit out of my mom.Oh no,we were the picture of happiness when out in the world.

I pasted on my“blissful son”expression,the one I kept for these occasions,and waited.Pamela slid out of the car and joined me while our parents finished some sort of heated discussion.I shuffled my feet in the grass while I checked out the farm.There were a lot of people at the buffet area and I was pretty sure I saw a chocolate cake,my favorite.A variety of scents filled the air,and I inhaled deeply.Mmm,I could smell the smoked ham,as well as apples and cinnamon.My stomach growled in response and I wished my parents would hurry so I could find Jason and get to the food before it disappeared.

When my mom finally climbed out of the car,she was rolling down her sleeves,and I caught a glimpse of a bruise on her forearm.I frowned.She had been wearing long-sleeved shirts more often this summer and,while I hadn’t actually witnessed any more than usual,I was pretty sure the beatings were increasing.If that was the case,my mom kept it to herself,just as she always tried to do.I knew she was hiding the mark from family members at the reunion and I was overcome with a sense of sadness.

I glanced at my dad and noticed he also wore his phony smile.It was the“I am a wonderful person”face.Damn.I knew that expression.It usually meant that later,in private,he would berate my mom for doing something wrong.At least what heconsidered wrong.Last week her great sin was that her heels had clicked too loudly on the tile when she’d walked into church.