A Soldier's Heart

Travis and Beth Start School (Anne)

Martha continued to hold her distance. Occasionally she would agree to come over for a cup of coffee while the children played, but never once did she invite me into her house.

Travis had made a few more friends in the neighbourhood, but he played with Beth most of the time, usually at her house, always in the yard, never in in the house. Martha would always call Beth in and send Travis home before her husband came home.

Travis would take some of his toys over to play with, but he was just as happy playing with dolls for hours on end as with trucks. He treated Beth with a gentle kindness that made me wonder if he suspected what his father and I suspected. Surely he was too young to understand such darkness.

When the children were old enough to start school, Travis and I accompanied Beth and Martha. Beth was reluctant. She cried and begged her mother to let her stay home. Travis took her hand and comforted her.

"It will be all right, Beth. I'll be right there with you. I'll take care of you."

Beth let go of her mother's hand and looked at him trustingly. He continued to encourage her on the way, telling her about the fun they were going to have and the new things they would learn. He acted more like a father than a child. Martha and I exchanged amused glances as we followed them.

After that first day, Travis insisted he was old enough to go to school by himself. He didn't need an escort. I would stand at the door and watch him until he was out of sight. He always stopped in front of Beth's house and waited for her to come out, and often he would hold her hand as they walked.

One day when Beth came out of her house, she was walking very slowly. It looked like she was limping, though it was hard to be sure from that distance. Travis said something to her, then looked back at me. He made a move toward me, then Beth clutched at him and he turned away again. Putting his arm around her, he walked toward the school.

When he came home for lunch, he was too upset to eat. His little face was red with indignation and he was practically shouting.

"Beth's brother hit her, with a stick! Their dad made him do it!"

I was shocked, to say the least. I wanted to know more, to understand, to run down the street and demand Martha tell me what was going on, but first I had to soothe my son. Dave had come in while Travis was speaking, and the look on his face probably mirrored my own.

"Tell me what she said, son," he prompted, squatting down in front of Travis.

"She said her dad told Jake to hit her with a stick and he did. She had hurts on her legs. I saw them."

Dave looked up at me, but he was speaking to both of us. "Your mom and I will go over after lunch and see what's what. Now, eat your soup before it gets cold."

Travis unclenched his fists and gave his father a serious nod, then sat down to eat. Dave toyed with his food and I didn't have much appetite either. When Travis finished eating, I cleared away our barely-touched meals.

We walked with Travis as far as Beth's house and waited for her to come out. When she did, we could see the backs of her little legs were covered with bruises and they did, indeed, look like they had been caused by a stick.

"What happened,Beth?" Dave asked gently.

Beth just hung her head and scuffed her feet on the ground.

"We have to go now or we'll be late," Travis said. Dave nodded, and the children walked off, hand in hand.

Dave headed for Martha's door and pounded on it with his fists. He could have rung the doorbell, but I knew he was trying to get rid of some anger so he could talk to Martha calmly.

Martha opened the door a crack and peered out. Seeing me behind Dave, she relaxed and let the door open a little more. Dave pushed it open further and barrelled past her. I followed more cautiously.

"What caused those bruises on Beth's legs?" he demanded.

"Her pa said she needed a beating, but he hurt his hand and couldn't do it so he told Jake to do it."

"She needed a beating? What in God's name did she do, to need a beating?"

Martha was wringing her hands, her shoulders slumped. When I looked closely at her, I could see fading bruises on her face. She didn't meet Dave's eyes, or mine.

"She got her dress dirty." Her voice was so low I could hardly hear her.

Dave sputtered incoherently. I swear, I had never seen him at a loss for words before but right then he was.

"Martha, we're going to have to report this," I said.

Her eyes widened. "No! You can't! It will just make things worse."

"Our Lord said 'Whatsoever you do unto the least of these, my children, you do it unto me.' Would you beat our Lord?"

"It wasn't me. I didn't do it. I would never beat her." Martha was sobbing.

"You didn't stop it!" Dave shouted. I put my hand on his arm and he quieted.

"Martha, you have to protect her," I said. "She can't protect herself. You could take her and Jake away, or have the police take your husband away."

"He would find us. He would kill me next time." She turned her face away.

I ached for her, I had no idea how to help her if she wouldn't at least try to help herself. Our only option was to have Beth removed from the home, and heaven only knew what the consequences would be to Martha. I patted her hand.

"Come to us, whenever you want. We will help any way we can."

Dave and I started out the door. Martha's weak cry followed us. "Please don't take away my baby. She's all I have."

We called CPS and they investigated, but did nothing. They told me that when they visited, there were no marks on Beth, and everyone, including Beth, denied there had been any beating. However, after that things seemed to calm down for Beth.

Time went on and the children got older, as we all did. Travis was at the top of his class. Beth struggled, especially with math. Travis helped her with her homework every day. He was still not allowed into Beth's home, so they did it hunched over our kitchen table.

Travis was so patient with her. He would try to walk her through math problems that to him were easy as pie. She would plead with him to solve the problem for her; it was too hard. I would have lost patience with her whining long before Travis did. But he would take her step by step through a problem, starting again from the beginning if she didn't understand, and make her work it out.