Her head smashed into a porcelain lamp. Large chunks of delicate blue crashed everywhere. Jane lie in a pool of her own blood, unable to move. But she was not unconscious. Her eyes flitted open, able to take in a scene her body could not prevent.
Cody began screaming hysterically in fear. He started to run to his mother, but his father pulled him back.
“You stay put,” he said taking off his belt.
Cody said nothing. Every muscle in his body tightened. He drew his arms over his face as a shield and tucked his head under knowing full well what was to come. Snap. The sharp sting of his father’s leather belt burned against his back. He refused to let himself cry in front of his father. He would not give his dad the satisfaction. Snap. The belt wrapped around him again like an angry snake. Cody bit his lip to prevent the wail that desperately wanted to escape his lips. He could taste salty blood in his mouth.
“What’s a matter boy, that doesn’t hurt?”
Snap.
The belt pummeled his little body. Cody fell to the floor unable to hold back the tears of pain.
“Just like your mother. Weak trash.” Kevin threw his belt to the floor and left the house.
“Cody,” Jane Smith said softly, “Cody are you okay?”
Cody tried to stand to get to his mother, but he couldn’t. He pulled himself forward with the palms of his hands, inching slowly across the floor.
“Momma, we need help.”
“No, no dear, I’m fine, just give me a minute.”
“No Momma.” His little voice was strong.
“Cody Blue,” she said with as much strength as she could muster, “you keep our family business to our family. You hear me?”
“Yes, Momma,” he answered, but he really didn’t understand at all.
His mother pulled herself up against an end table and stumbled to Cody. Pieces of the porcelain lamp crushed beneath her feet. She picked Cody up and took him to the bathroom to clean him.
Cody looked up at his mother. Her eye was red and swollen, blood trickled down her forehead, her cheek was turning purple.
“Momma, you don’t look so good.”
“Nothin’ a little make-up won’t fix,” she said removing his shirt, trying to hide her shock at the three angry red lashes that cut through her son’s skin. She lathered a washcloth with soap. “Now this’ll just hurt a little bit.” Jane gently touched her son’s back.
“Ow!” he cried in pain.
“I know baby, I know, I’m sorry. You know I love you. You’re my little man.” She cradled Cody in her arms, rocking him back and forth. Cody couldn’t figure his momma out. He wasn’t a man. He was just a little boy. And he needed her. If she loved him, why did she let this keep happening?
Jane finished washing Cody and put him into bed.
“I’ll be right back,” she said.
Cody heard her chain lock the front door on her way to her bedroom. A few minutes later she was back at his bedside in her nightgown.
“Cody, are you okay now?” She looked at him with care, face splattered with bruises.
“No.” She looked scary to Cody.
“Cody, your father is a good man.”
Cody winced.
“I know you don’t believe that, but he is. He supports us, keeps food on the table and a roof over our heads,” she paused, “You know when I grew up I didn’t have a daddy. My daddy left my momma to fend for herself with four kids. Now your daddy isn’t gonna do that to us. He just drinks a bit too much. But he loves us. He loves us.” She gently stroked his hair.
Cody knew this speech was more for her benefit than his. He knew she needed to tell him this to convince herself of why she should stay with his father. Cody didn’t get it. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than this.
True to form, his dad showed up the next morning sober with a big hangover and a small bouquet of convenience store flowers. His memory of the night before was predictably distorted.
Kevin knocked on the door. Jane opened it, leaving the chain firmly in place.
“Janie, I’m sorry,” he said, shoving the bouquet through the crack in the door.
His mother pushed the flowers back. “Sorry and flowers ain’t enough,” her voice was flat. A chained door gave her confidence.
“Aw, Janie, I know. I’m sorry though. Really I am. I don’t know what else to say.” He moved the flowers back through the door.
“This can’t happen again,” Jane said as if her words really