If you are aware of child abuse but don’t do anything about it, you are also a child-abuser. Oh man, this might be a different birthday story than any you’ve ever heard.
YOU.ARE.WELCOME. I.AM.HERSCHEL.STERLING. AND.I.AM.HERE.TO.HELP.
Bobby had a really bad pull of the straw when he was born. They were not interested at all in having another kid in their house. Bobby had to hear his dad tell his mother, who was not mentally or emotionally capable of handling the kids she already had, for his entire childhood, that she never should have kept him. He didn’t want Bobby, and he made it very clear to him that he was not wanted in the family. The guy who impregnated Bobby’s mother and did not want him was the decision-maker in the house Bobby had to grow up in.
Bobby’s siblings had a reputation around the community for being especially mean and bullying. Most parents told their kids to avoid them. They achieved this status at the hand of their dad, who used Bobby to teach them cruelty. He would do horrible things to Bobby, and when the kids also did horrible things to him, they would be rewarded by their dad with approval, and they certainly did not want to be seen by this ogre the way that he sees Bobby.
When it was time to eat dinner with the "family,” the dad-guy would shove Bobby against the wall and then push the dinner table against him and lock him against the wall, so he couldn’t eat and so the siblings could ridicule him. Then, when it was time for dessert, Bobby would be forced to go under the dinner table, where a gauntlet of feet would kick him. He would then be sent to his room while the siblings would come to his door one-by-one and tell him how great the dessert tasted, which he was being deprived of.
They were constantly pranking Bobby, and being rewarded by the criminal head of the household. Bobby was lucky, though. Unlike his mostly clumsy siblings who were never motivated enough to practice anything very much, he had an amazing physical body and his reflex reaction time was in 96th percentile. This was such a fortunate thing, because he was able to avoid punches and attempts to trip him, shove him down stairs, and swing baseball bats and broom handles at him. Later, Bobby would do amazing things, like hit 100 mph fastballs, and ride his bike for 20-30 miles a day for decades.
Bobby was so lucky to be alive in the first place, and having this physical prowess was a lifesaver, but it also angered the manboy that owned the house and the siblings who could barely get up a flight of stairs without farting themselves to death. Worse, though, was the bitter, not very quick older brother who had squandered his talents and was jealous and resentful of the little boy. Any time the little guy had opportunities that the junkie older brother couldn’t achieve, he’d be sabotaged by the manboys and the clumsy punk siblings.
Not only inside the house, but outside the house, people were allowed to do whatever they wanted to him. If Bobby defended himself, the family would take the side of the kid that attacked him, and then they would participate with those outside people in tormenting him. It was a truly, truly awful experience, and Bobby is so lucky he was born with so many great skills, above-average intelligence, and a pretty good set of instincts, or he wouldn’t even be having a birthday.
Bobby’s birthday was coming up, and he was kind-of looking forward to it. It was a day when he would usually get a little reprieve. Everybody likes cake, and somehow, maybe the mom, was able to get them to let a birthday thing happen. Once, the whole family completely ghosted him on his birthday. When he reminded them that it was his birthday, the manboy said, “Who cares?” They had done that all day just to set him up for that.
On the day before his birthday, the family talked all day about going out to dinner. They were so excited. Bobby was too, and people had been easing up on him, so he thought it was going to be OK that night. What happened instead is that the rest of them left Bobby home by himself while they all went out to eat without him. This isn’t as bad as it sounds, because even at this age, Bobby knows he’s better off when they aren’t around. So… it’s just fine, really.
He can do whatever he wants when he’s alone. It’s not like they care what happens to him. He’ll practice electronics in the little workshop, or go do sports drills in the yard. He might get some of his writing that he hides in the ceiling panels in the basement so his mom and sibling won’t invade his personal life, and sometimes he takes to the kitchen. Be clear, Bobby is not a criminal mind like the menboys, but he is a kid, and he’ll get up to mischievous things once in a while, but not around the house. He can’t risk that.
He’s a pretty good kid a school. Of course, the abusive adults are able to identify him as a mark, and he does have to deal with abusive adults at school, all with the parents approval of course. There are some good adults too, and they can see that there is more to this picture than what is on the surface, and they do what they can to protect kids in those situations.
He has some nice friends, too. Sometimes they talk on the phone when Bobby is home by himself, and they play at school, and have a nice time, but Bobby keeps the secrets for his family, and he can never invite those kids over. Any time one of his friends does come over, they never come back a second time. He knows it’s not his fault.
Tonight, while Bobby is home by himself, he figures the thing to do is to bake a cake. Why not right? He does know how to use a kitchen; he’s been left alone enough to try all kinds of recipes and to have the kitchen all clean, like nothing happened, before anyone even came home.
Bobby slides the chair over to the cupboard for the cake mix, and then he gets the eggs, milk, and butter and starts the process. He’s mixing everything up, he’s folding the batter together and he stops. He goes to the manboy’s little workshop and gets a box that he knows is poison because he saw the dad-guy use it to kill a neighbor’s dog. It appears that Bobby has made a decision.
He grinds some of the contents into a powder and mixes it into the cake. When the cake is done, he puts it in the freezer to let it cool down enough so he can ice it before they get home. He does that, and then he finds a box to fit the cake in, wraps the whole thing in a blanket, puts it in his closet, and shuts the door so no one can smell it.
It’s chaos in the morning around the house. The manboy went to work hours ago. All the bigger kids leave for school an hour before Bobby does. Bobby gets the cake. He wraps the box like a present, and puts a hand made card on the box that reads Happy Birthday, Bobby! He places the box in a bag, and hangs the bag on the knob of the back door. He comes back into the house. The mom is just waking up, and Bobby tells her that he’s going to be a little bit late coming home because of school things. Bobby is the last to leave. He leaves an hour later than the bigger kids.
On Bobby’s birthday, The older kids will get home at around 3:00, and the dad will be home by 4PM. Bobby will feign school activity and play on the swing set until then, and then he’ll walk home purposefully slowly.
When Bobby gets home, it’s uncharacteristically quiet. There is no wild-eyed crazy lady who can’t keep her hands to herself, screaming at any vile children. Bobby doesn’t have to fight his way through a booby trapped house. He walks over to the TV and shuts it down. He can hear birds outside. It’s so nice outside. It’s such a great birthday for Bobby.
“I think I’ll bake a cake.” Bobby says, as he slides the chair across the floor so he can reach the cupboard.
The End.
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