Womansearch: A Little Girl's Book of Knowledge About A Little Boy Who Battered

by Juanita D. Price

I am the last to get in, the kids are sitting in the back seat. S.O.B.'s eyes are so grossly malignant as they stare at me when I open the door that I can't stop the sickness that reaches into my very soul. I have to summon ALL my strength in making myself get-in-the-car. As I half-turn my back to him to ease myself in, I hear a weird choking sound, and something rattling.

I turn to look, and there is S.O.B. with his head lolling out the window, his coat buttons scraping against the door making that rattling sound. He is alternately holding his nose and waving both arms out the window wildly. "Get back, get back--you STINK," he hisses at me, strong but LOW. Then he makes some more heavy choking sounds. He is on the street side of the car and some cars are slowing down to gape at him. My kids' faces all look murderous-I mean those kids look at S.O.B. as if they could murder him on the spot. NO mercy.

I ain't no better off. Hot hot HOT anger boils up in me. My head rolls away.

"Is something wrong-can I help?" asks a sweet voice just then, right in my ear.

I turn from S.O.B. and look into the concerned face of the most gentle and kind sister of the church. She can't really see S.O.B., she is on my side of the car, peering in at me. Evidently she has come to investigate because she'd noticed that the cars along the street were slowing/stopping when they came alongside us. Anyhow, she saves me from sliding down into Kiddyland with S.O.B. I silently thank God. The moment she had spoken, my head had come back on and I knew how to make S.O.B.'s attempted slap boomerang on him. By this time, he has half his body hanging out the window while he gasps and chokes.

I have myself in check. I smile nicely at the sister. "Oh thank you," I gush at her gratefully, "something seems to be wrong with my husband." I lean backward, pressing myself against the seat so she can get a clear view of S.O.B.

My words and action have an electrifying effect on S.O.B. He had thought that I would assume the burden of shame for his behavior. Then, of course, I would be forced to dig up excuses to cover it, and do my dangdest to shoo the sister away.

No.

This ain't Girl, playing Mommy, boy.

Under the direct and helpfully searching eyes of the good sister, S.O.B. is now trying mightily to haul his carcass back inside the car. He does his dangdest.

But he keeps getting stuck.

Laughter begins welling up inside of me. This mess is turning hilarious. One quick glance at my kids tells me they feel the same. Of course, the helpful sister does not know what the deal really is, and you KNOW that S.O.B. is not seeing a blessed thing funny. Me and the kids understand enough to realize that our laughter must remain inside of us.

S.O.B. has stopped saying that I stink. The good sister will hear him. He has also stopped gasping and choking and waving me away. Finally, rumpled as all get-out, he succeeds in pulling his body parts back into the car.

His jaws are clinched and he is sweating. He rolls his eyes at me savagely during the two seconds that sister can't see. He turns the key to start the car. Why...he is going to just zoom off without one word to the sweet sister!

The car stalls. Drat!

Sister is on him-"Oh, are you all right, Brother _____?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine." He won't look at her. He wants desperately to get out of here. He tries the car again.

Unnnnn-kkk! whines the car. DRAT! thinks S.O.B., again.

Sweet Sister is not convinced. She pokes her head clear into the car so she can see him better. I give her all the room I can.

Her unflinching attention is getting on S.O.B.'s nerves. He wishes she'd go away. Her looking at him so close makes him feel naked. He slides down into the seat, trying to escape her eyes.

"Are you SURE you're all right? You don't look well-"

I am starting to strangle on my inside laughter, I don't dare look at the kids again, we will laugh out loud if we look at each other. So I look straight ahead.

"-and I'm positive I heard you choking or something," she finishes lamely.

S.O.B. don't answer her, pretending not to have heard. But she asks again. It is getting sticky. Again I refuse to take on the shame of his behavior (his ignoring the sister) and bail him out.

He has a tongue, let him use it. I ain't Mommy!