A Search for a Loving God Part Vll
I made a conscious decision many times a simple choice to remember certain things, sights sounds and events with graphic detail. I remember a day standing on a large granite rock protruding from the ground and looking off at a distance was a most beautiful valley landscape. The evening sun was laying gently over a patch work of land & the fall colors reflected a most amazing sight. I stood absorbing every detail & telling myself I would never forget this, & I haven't to this day. I can’t tell you the day of the week I happened upon this breathtaking sight, I can only remember the image tattooed on my mind forever. I believe the small glimpses of light & the occasional acts of compassion did more to mold my character than all the fires of could.
Ever run away? Where did you go? How long were you gone? Did you have a plan or just take off blind? Find what you were looking for or hoping for? Did you leave more behind than you had do gain?
I never ran away from the Ranch, I dreamed about it almost every day. I more than dreamed I planned & fantasized about it till I drifted to sleep almost every night. I was going to escape one day. I was going to be gone & no one would ever know where I was. I didn't know where I would go, anywhere but here. There was not good plan for a kid. Where would a kid go? I would have stuck out as much as a prisoner in uniform, & there was the thought of getting caught. I didn't want to have to endure the brutal beating given those that didn’t make it. I never saw anyone not get caught, & only 2 ran away & never came back. They went to the state correctional institute for boys. I heard they beat up an older woman, stole some guns from her house & her car.
The 2 boys that never came back were at the time my 2 best friends & one was one of my room mates. They were 2 of the good guys. They never caused trouble, they didn't bully. I was angry with them, & not because of what they did, but because I didn't have a hint myself. They never shared one word with me, just ran away. I wouldn't have gone, but they should have asked. I was disappointed and didn’t approve & found it hard to believe they would rough up an old woman.
I know that not running away is the wisest choice, but I think the punishment & fear of it is why I didn't run. I hate that feeling, the feeling of fear prevailing over me.
The start the 6th grade I had been at the Ranch for 9 months. I had actually ended the 5th grade on a high note, & was given some extra privileges because I had won the yearly award given to the best kid of each building. For every positive there always seemed to be an equal negative. I started the 6th grade on a down note. Seems I am a poor speller. I received a failing grade & failing grades are punishable.
Punishable, Unpunishable. Accepted, Rejected. Praised, abased. Good, Bad. I think there is a lot of middle ground missing here. I have never understood how an ass whooping could improve my spelling.
The start of the 6th grade is a turning point for me. I think it's the time most boys try on the shoes of a man. It's in the hormones.
I lay awake tossing, turning, mind racing, & in walked the houseparent. I was facing the window & looking out, when he tapped me on the shoulder & asked " You having trouble sleeping?" I replied that I was, & he says, "Come with me". He takes me to the spare apartment used for relief houseparent’s, guest, & the punishment chambers. He points to a double bed & says "Lay there & try that out", I did as asked, but then he lay on the bed behind me & laid his hand on my but & asked "How does that feel?" I lay froze, didn't speak, & felt a fear wash over me. At that moment I heard a loud noise come from the dorm area & he rose & says, "I'll be right back" When he was gone I ran to my room & got in bed. He came in later and asked if I could sleep & I said I could. I know Timothy B. had to be the one that made the noise, doing one of his dares probably. I didn't care, I was just glad a noise was made to rouse the houseparent’s attention. I know today the noise saved me from being abused, & I can't help but feel some warmth for whoever it was. I did try & tell family what he tried to do, but they said I was a liar & trying to ruin the good name of a preacher. Our houseparent was a preacher.
The houseparent had about 30 or more bee hives out back, & I was the best kid bee robber of any kid in my building. I robbed them, added supers (increase hive size), & captured swarms. I was rarely stung, but when I was I kept my cool & did my work. I would scrape the stinger off later. Once I was stung I think it was 32 times, but it was a helper that got nervous when a bee crawled on his hand. He was holding a super, dropped it & ran away. The super he dropped hit the hive & almost knocked it over. We were trading a super with honey & replacing the one with honey with one that just had imitation cone. I was holding the honey filled super when he dropped his. I stayed the course & corrected leaning hive, set the new super on, closed the hive & then I ran & jumped in a Cesspool. I went back for the honey when they calmed down.
The houseparent had 80 hives at his away home, & I was scheduled to leave with him for 3 days to rod them, but lucky for me that hit a bump in the road. A bump called appendicitis, & although before I was looking forward to going, I was now apprehensive. Maybe God was on his job.
I would never be the same after my appendectomy. I had never had so much attention in all my life. There was a lot of pain, but it was almost worth it. There was a candy striper (nurse training for high school girls) & I had seen her through the bus window when we dropped off the high schoolers. She would come by my room each night on her way out to check on me & she always gave me a kiss on the cheek. To her I was just a kid, but to me she was just beautiful. My last night I didn't know it was her night off & I lay awake, eyes watching, heart racing & my mind hoping, but she never came. I never saw her again except through the window of a school bus.
I was back home at the ranch less than a week, & the Mrs. houseparent called me to take my meds. I took them & within the hour I was drowsy & nodding out. This was a Friday or Saturday because we were allowed to sit up & watch 1 movie after the 10PM news. I couldn't stay awake so I went to my room & went to sleep.
I went to sleep peacefully, but was awaken very abruptly, & alarmingly. I awoke to a mouth on my male appendage, & I immediately fought to get him off. He grabbed my penis & a testacle in his hand & slung me. I fought with all I could, but the stitched gash in my side made it difficult. I was afraid my stitches would rip out, but I fought with all I could. He was the oldest & biggest kid in our building so I would have a tough fight even if I was not sore from surgery.
Charles A. one of my room mates walked in just as he slung me into the shower, & screamed out at Joe S. to let me go. Joe ignored him & shoved me down. Charles picked up a large wooden handled brush & threatened to use it on Joe. He let me go & when I stood I couldn't help but grab the brush & charge after Joe. He ran away crying like a baby.
I got dressed, went & knocked on the houseparent’s door & related the story to him. He went & retrieved Joe & moved him out of the boys unit. A few days later the houseparent drove off with Joe in tow, & I heard he was taking Joe to his personal residence to assist him with robbing his bees. The last I ever saw Joe he was sitting on the passenger’s side of the houseparent’s old truck driving away. Another boy accused me of making a trashy statement as they drove away. The problem is one of the boys told the HP what he says I said.
I was accused of saying "He's taking Joe to get his dick sucked" Did I say it, I'm not sure, but if I did it was just an utterance. The houseparent sent for me & escorted me to the spare apartment. He asked me about what I had been accused of saying & I denied it. He says, Ok then I will whip both your asses. I told him I had a right to counsel with the vice superintendent & was assured that when I was enrolled there. He yells at me that he is dealing out this punishment. I tried to resist, but he was too big & strong. He beat me & beat me & beat me, & I continued to defy him the pleasure of admitting anything. He kept what some may call switches, but these were some very special picked sticks or switches. He broke 11 on me that day, & at times beat me with 5 or more in his hands at once.
Sometimes when your going through things it seems like it will never end, but it does. The last thing I was told was, "Your spelling grades have been low & if you don't improve it you will be back in here for more. Have you ever been beat till you were just totally washed out? You will sleep like you had taken a sedative. I went to my room, showered (the water stung my lashes) & slept.
My back, sides, & lower legs looked as if I had been house whipped. I had endured an ordeal I had feared & although I lost, something inside me clicked on & although it was small it would begin to grow. I knew I had some inner decisions to make, & I knew I would have to show more strength.
I wasn't one to cheat on exams, sports, or games, but I did cheat on spelling exams 3 times in my life & was caught twice. I would never have made a good Jessie James. 1st time was prior to the Boys Ranch, while living with grandparents. They told me I had to not only mind, but make good grades or they would send me to an orphan home. I cheated on spelling & was caught. The teacher made me come & sit in her lap in front of the class as punishment. Tears filled my eyes & she says "it's nothing to cry about" I told he why I cheated & I didn't to go to an orphan home. I looked up & my teacher & almost every student was crying. Less than a week & I was gone. I received a nice package from the class my 1st week at the boys ranch.
2nd time I cheated was to prevent another beating. I thought I had improved my method & could do it without detection. I also knew if I made a 100% on the test that it would garner attention. I should have not tried so hard to misspell some of the words & just let it be natural. I also should have shot for a grade of about 80 & not 90. She knew enough from looking at my test that something was amiss. The next test she monitored me & in the middle of calling out a word to spell she tapped me on the shoulder & says "Come with me" We went out to the hall & she says I know your cheating & you also cheated yesterday. I just said "Yes Maam" I don't know how she knew, but for some reason she raised my shirt tail & looks at my back & asked "Who did this?" The flood waters overflowed the levee & with tear filled eyes I told her. She says "I need to contact the authorities" I begged her no, & asked her where would I go, where would I live.
She leads me to another teachers class, & shows him my back. She says, "Cheating can't go unpunished or the others would think they can get away with it, but she didn't want the principle involved" The other teacher hit a cushion on his chair & I was instructed to holler out when he did so the other students would think I was punished. I did cry out, but before it was over I was crying like I was punished & she asked why. I said "He hit that cushion 6 times, when I get home I will get 12." This would have been 12 shots with a paddle not switches & I have been paddled hard enough to lift me off my feet. She gathered the boys & told them they better not say a word about me cheating or getting paddled.
My teacher began giving me extra time & for the rest of the year I made the honor roll, & I didn't cheat to do it. She tutored me & I did the work. This all from a teacher I couldn't stand before, & now for the only time in my life I felt like a teachers pet.
