Chapter 17-1 Book 3

Chapter 17-1

Turntable

Part 2

After a long hot bath, Jason and I were sent to bed early. Dad would check the house, the doors, and the cameras to ensure everything was up and running. The ones in the house were trained on the doors inside the home and outside of the home, planning and crisscrossing the yard and the entryway. Even though it was suggested that he should put one in my room, he had decided not to. Instead, my door was left open when I was in there during the day and left closed when I went to bed at night. Unlike my old room down the hall, my room was not soundproof, and my window was regular house window glass.

I knew when Shawn came home it would be his room now and I knew without a doubt that there were cameras inside and one focused on his door, but right now they had been turned off and waiting. Dad had given each of us our own room instead of wasting the space that wouldn't be used for another foster kid. Jody's room was now the baby's room and all Shane's and Jody's stuff had been locked up in storage, waiting until they had officially moved out.

The cameras were only turned on at night when we went to bed or when he or Mom wasn't home, except for the ones in the basement. He had told me there were two in the barn, but I had yet to see them clearly, yet I knew they were there having Dad showed me on the screen that he could see everything in any direction. He showed me where they were, as a warning to me that he would know if I was lying.

They made my skin crawl even worse when he pointed to the red blinking light inside the barn, so small if you blinked you would never see it. Which was triggered when the doors or windows opened. I didn't have to ask if the cameras were on 24/7 when it came to the basement. The fact that he was comfortable with us being tortured said they weren't in a place where they could see what he was doing or hear our screams.

Each door of our bedrooms had our names on it to emphasize that these rooms were ours and nobody else's. Mom and Dad had already gone over the new rules, telling us no friends inside our rooms without permission from them, and the doors would remain open. To discourage any kind of sexual behavior. Yet when it came to sleepovers, we could only have them in the family room, not in our bedrooms. Dad said that Shawn or Arthur had lost that privilege altogether. He also made it clear that neither of us was allowed inside their rooms at any given time or we could expect severe punishment.

In their defense, I could understand why these rules were necessary, and was one rule I would never break. I didn't need to be threatened by a punishment, and I knew that my two younger brothers had no illusions as to why Mom and Dad had forbidden it. We knew it was there for our own protection and no other reason.

After my first day inside the turn-table, I had my first real episode in a very long time. It took hours for them to calm me, and Dad simply decided it was best to tranquilize me instead of waiting for me to come around, but Mom had refused to state she didn't want me back inside the hospital from being drugged so often.

Dad and she argued as he strapped me down to my bed to prevent me from harming myself. Had decided to wait and help me to work through my nightmare, only to have to leave the room to tend to Jason's as well. Granted, he could wake up where it would take me hours to work of mine. Yet when I did, I found Mom holding my hand, waiting for me to say my safe words and answer correctly the response before she would release me.

Mom gave Jason and me several kisses and a big hug, telling us how much she loved us. The words seemed hollow when she said Dad was only doing what he feels is best. She warned him if he harmed us. She would take a sledgehammer to his toy, and this line of questioning would be over. The fact that she had easily gotten our statements the night before by bathing us said that this was completely unnecessary. Dad and she would argue regarding if what we said was true and whether would it be true when Shawn came home and told them that everything, we said was a lie.

He would have a hard time believing what was true, and what wasn't. It didn't matter that I had never lied to them and had always given them the truth when they asked just not all of it. Dad wanted proof, and this was the only way he felt that he could get it. The fact that Mom was going to be out of the house to run errands and do some shopping said that she didn't want to hear all the screams or the fact she trusted Dad not to harm us. I wondered if they were all insane because it felt like he was indeed harming us.

The fact that it left burn marks on my skin said that he was. Yet, what I didn't expect was Dad to tie my hands behind my back and simply walk me and Jason down the stairs as if we were common criminals. Dad repeated for me to work through my safe words to prevent me from going into an episode, yet by the time I had reached the halfway mark. It was too late. I had entered into one … reliving another day in the boiler room. Yet today my father wasn't in the room. It was Dad that had taken his place. I felt the whip strike my body and felt the warm blood trickle down my bare skin. I was screaming. "You promised Dad you would never do this to me again. Why have you broken your word? Why?"

When I recovered from the episode, not only had the time lapsed three hours but Jason and now Jared was strapped into identical chairs facing me. Dad was finishing the last of the wires on me. He smelled of urine and his shirt were missing as it sat dripping wet to the side over another chair. He had taken off our clothes and folded them neatly on the floor out of the way. Instead of one bucket of water, there were two, with a clean washrag and a bar of soap, and a drink cooler with one of Mom's plastic cups sitting beside it.

All he said was." Welcome back son, today we will determine if you all are speaking the truth. Even though Jared has been through this," Dad said. "I feel that Jared as well as Jason have not been completely honest with me and would only tell the truth if you all see for yourselves if you are lying to protect each other."

I couldn't believe Dad would go to such lengths, but then again, he always went too far when it comes to punishments. Personally, I wanted to strap him to this seat and ask him under torture why he didn't believe us and why he would do this to his own flesh and blood. After making sure our pee cups were securely in place, he took his seat. Unlike last time, he asked first. The same question as last night: did we ever sexually abuse one another? I had thought we had all answered this question and was cleared of the fact that we hadn't, even more so after he had us examined, having me and Shane pass the test.

Dad already knew that Shawn and Danny had sexually abused both Jason and Jared. He wasn't concerned about that. He was concerned about if I, and they had done so as well. When the question was asked, he waited for us to answer. When we still answered that we hadn't and found the idea repulsive. Dad individually cranked up the voltage. While we watched and listened to our brother beside us screaming in so much pain it ripped my heart out.

After we had answered true-fully the same answer. Dad gave us a minute to calm down while he filled the glass with cool water. Giving us all sips as a reward, I wasn't worried about germs; we had all shared the same drinks over the years and a tub of popcorn. Even when I lived with the Steeds and the Downings we would share the same things as if we were all blood-related, even with the Fry I had done so.

So, sharing the same glass was nothing new to me. The water tasted cold and wet as it went down my sore throat. When we had enough, he continued the line of questioning. Several times, I slipped into an episode and brought it back. My punishment was the ice bath and five clicks to where we had left off.

When Mom came back, he had stopped and released us. He cringed, seeing fresh burns on all three of us, hoping Mom wouldn't notice. Having us quickly dressed in the clothes he had provided us. Only to have Mom ordering us to remove our shirts. She yelled angrily at Dad, finding new burns that weren't there when she had left. Asking him if he had lost his mind or if it had been worth it, as well as demanding if we had said anything that he or she didn't already know.

Dad said that so far we have told him the truth and so far he had yet to find a lie. Having Mom slap him for going too far, I waited for him to do the same. Instead, he told us that our chores all needed to be done before suppertime. It was as if our lives hadn't gone off course as we stood there waiting for him to take us to task one more time. Mom was angry about finding out that we had all missed lunch after a tiny breakfast. She was angry when she sniffed his wet shirt and stood near us, noticing we all smelled of urine and vomiting.

He quickly noticed that none of us had moved and growled that if we didn't want our butts blistered, we better be doing our chores by the time he counted to five. It didn't matter if we had been sobbing, or the fact we had been tortured for nearly six hours straight, or we had nothing in our bellies but small sips of water. Dad still required our chores to be done, regardless.

My muscles ached as if I had worked out hard in the gym. Even my two brothers were feeling the effects, but we knew Dad. If we even seemed to show we weren't feeling so hot, he would push us harder before he would let up, or if we collapsed with a high fever. The fact that our older siblings had left the nest only meant that we had to shoulder the responsibilities. Not even Arthur was excluded from doing chores, yet his task was light compared to ours. Having Dad or Mom stood over him, making sure he did it right?

I wasn't the only one who vomited or had a fever as we worked hard under the scorching sun. Our bodies tell us that if Dad continued on with his torture, we would be useless in the days to come. Mom was more than angry if Dad even suggested the idea he would find himself sleeping on the couch. Telling him we were all sick and down in bed with a fever and it was all his fault. Dad argued that he was just trying to find answers and prevent more of his sons from doing the same thing Shawn and his friends had done to Jody and them. Mom handed him a pillow and blanket off the bed and said he could sleep on the couch since he refused to listen. Mom slammed the door in his face and Dad yelled. "Fine!"

The morning had at last arrived when Shawn entered the house. Mom was the only one who had visited Shawn while he was in lockup. Hoping that if she could understand why he had chosen to hurt his brothers and Jody, that she would be able to correct his course. Yet Shawn had refused to even allow her to see him. Not even Dad was allowed in. It didn't matter to him… to him; we were the criminals, and he was just looking out for himself. The first words he spoke when he saw me were "Mule boy." Mom slapped him for it, telling him that word was not allowed in the house. Shawn only smiled and called her a fucking cow, earning him another slap across the face from Dad.

Dad had them take off the handcuffs and allowed the officers to leave before he took Shawn to task, for thinking he had a right to use foul language in his house. No one said anything as Dad took off his belt and folded it and turned him over his knee. None of us were allowed to leave the room even though we were still under the weather. Dad ordered us not to move from the room. Said if we did or I had an episode, he would take us all over his knee. Dad was angry, and I had never seen him like this ever since he whipped me with the cattail whip. I took everything I had in me to stay in this reality. I focused on the pain and the humiliation that Shawn had caused to his own sister and his two younger brothers. I growled angrily, knowing if it was me, I would have done worse than what Dad was doing now.

Not once did Shawn cry, instead he smiled, asking Dad if that's the worst he could do like a deranged lunatic. When Dad realized he wasn't even suffering, Dad stopped and told Mom. "Therefore, I insist on using the turntable, not only for detecting lies, but to punish bad behavior when nothing else had worked."

I knew Mom was against it, but she didn't say no. Instead, she said the rest of her boys wouldn't be participating until he had a good reason to believe that we were lying. Dad smiled, and it was not a warm, friendly smile. He simply picked up Shawn by the hair and dragged him towards the basement. Mom looked angry as she watched, ordering us all back to bed. She did not like going down into the bowels of hell known as our basement. Instead, she had Jason and Jared share the same bed as me.

I had asked Dad months ago if I could use the bigger bed that Shane and I used to use, even though I would be sleeping alone. I had come used to having all that room and didn't fall out when I tossed and turned when having a night-terror. Dad had me give Mom and him a promise that I wouldn't harm myself and would come to them whenever I felt I had a reason to. I had agreed and was given a warning if I did that my reward would be forfeited. In some ways, it still felt like Shane was still with me sharing the same bed and was like he still had his arms around me protecting me from my nightmares.

Mom knew I would never do the same things as Shawn or Danny. She didn't need to torture me to know she could trust me with my two younger brothers. She simply placed and tucked them in bedside me, and gave us a kiss on our cheeks and, leaving the door open so she could keep a close eye on us and would wake us when dinner was ready.

Dad was right not once did any of us hear the screams down in the basement. I like my brothers. I couldn't sleep. So, we asked Mom if we could watch TV instead. Mom agreed, telling us she understood that we had a hard time sleeping, knowing what Dad had done to us, and what Dad was now doing to Shawn. When Dad came up from the basement, he was hot and sweaty, as if he had run laps with us in the hot sun. Mom said nothing except that our fever had come down a bit and we were in the family room watching a video. Dad simply looked in on us, asking how we were feeling, placing his hand on each of our foreheads.

The fact that each of us shied away from his touch said we didn't trust him at the moment not to hurt us. The words felt hollow as he told us he was proud of us for taking it like a man. Because of that, he was going to trust us to tell him the truth, after he had showered noting that he smelled really rank, watching us wrinkle our noses. That we all shied away from was reasonable to him, having him tell us he was truly sorry, and he loved us.

We said nothing; we didn't say we loved him back, for in our minds he had once again broken our trust. Dad simply apologized again and stripped down to his skin and tossed all his clothes into the washroom and grabbed clean towels. To us, it was just another day at home and continued watching our video. Jason and Jared both placed my arms around them like Shane had done when we wanted our brother to protect us. Yet, Shane, Jody, or Kerry was no longer here. I was, and it was my responsibility to fill their shoes.