Bad Girl House

John often complained about the neighbors that lived two doors down from us. Not because there was anything wrong with them, or because of something they had done. John had never actually spoken to them, and didn’t want to. He griped about the husband’s brand new truck, as well as the boat and RV that lined their driveway. He accused them of flaunting these fancy things for everyone to see. The improvements being done, and completed, on the outside of their house were another source of aggravation. Even the spring flowers that accented their freshly manicured lawn were showing off. John would watch what was going on down the street from our unfinished living room. He stood there loudly spouting his deep jealousy, which was most likely frustration with himself.

Our driveway was the pick up spot for the school bus in the morning, so I got to talk to the moms that lived on our street, including the one that lived two doors down. John didn’t appreciate me telling him that she seemed perfectly fine to me while he complained about her husband. It was becoming obvious after many meetings at the bus stop, that she was expecting another baby. She invited all of the moms and daughters to a small baby shower she has going to have in a few weeks. John was actually fine with me going, probably because I would be able to tell him about the inside of the house.

I hadn’t been allowed to go anywhere without John besides errands. This normally entailed him waiting for me in the car with the kids, while a ran into a store as fast as possible. I wasn’t used to being around people that I didn’t know. We only went to see John’s parents’, occasionally my grandparents’, and my mom would come over to visit. The thought of going to a strange house and conversing with people I’d never met made me feel extremely anxious. Even though John was letting me got to this party, I also worried that there would still be a problem with having been gone when I got home.

The women sat around talking while holding small plates of snacks. The kids ran around playing and yelling. One of the baby shower activities was to give a piece of advice to the mother to be. Each person spoke in turn, while I rehearsed what I would say in my head. It had been quite some time since I’d spoken in front of people. Even though this was supposed to be fun, I felt nervous deep down in my stomach. I said something cliche about time flying, and about girls being more difficult than boys. The group of women laughed at what I said, and looked me right in the eyes. They were listening to what I was saying like it mattered. It was not a familiar feeling. When I had finished talking, my mind began to wonder. I wondered how long I should stay. How long was I allowed to stay? I did not want John to knock on the door and cause a scene. Since people were just sitting around talking, I decided that I’d better find Jessica and head back to the house.

I pushed my front door open to the sound on Josh crying in his room. John rushed to the door, talking very fast, telling me what happened while I was gone. I walked past him to get to Josh. They were going to play in the backyard, so John was walked down the basement steps with Josh and Nick in front of him. With a few steps left, Josh tripped over Nick, falling down to the concrete floor. In his bed, Josh was hiding under his blanket, loudly sobbing. I asked him what was wrong, but he only started crying harder when he tried to tell me. He sat up, and I pulled him towards me to hug him. I could tell that he was in pain. Josh tried again to tell me what was wrong, but I couldn’t understand what he was saying through his sobs. He put his hand on his shoulder, when I asked where he was hurting. John had been hovering behind me. He said that he would be fine.

Over the next week, I could tell that Josh was still in a lot of pain. He had trouble bending his arm to put it through the sleeve of his shirt. He grimaced every time I helped him onto a chair or onto my lap. During that week we all went to a program that Jessica was in at school. Josh was more comfortable standing in front of me than sitting in a chair. I was growing more and more concerned that something was seriously wrong. I worried that I was aggravating something every time I moved his arm. Somehow Josh didn’t cry about the pain, but it was always there in his eyes. I have no idea how he managed to sleep at night, or function during the day being only five years old. When Josh thinks back on it now, he doesn’t remember the fall. He only remembers being sent to his room after the accident because he kept screaming in pain. He must have been keeping himself from crying out loud because he was afraid of John’s reaction.

John still wouldn’t suggest taking Josh to the doctor, but started researching what we were seeing. The shoulder that Josh had injured was hanging significantly lower than the other. That was an unmistakeable sign of a broken collar bone. John would repeatedly hold Josh’s shoulder where it should be to see how far it would fall. It was like he believed that it would miraculously stay in the right place if he did it one more time. Josh had no choice but to let him do it. I began insisting that we take Josh to be seen by someone, but John still refused. He may have realized that we might be asked if we felt safe at home, which is often asked now in emergency rooms. This should have been an obvious question to ask if I child wasn’t brought in for such an injury for over a week.

Josh was finally taken to a doctor when my mom come over to take me to the grocery story while John was at work. After seeing Josh’s shoulder when she arrived, she took us to an urgent care clinic right away. I told them John’s story of what happened, and that it had been a little over a week since. The nurse gave me a strange look, and continued checking Josh’s arm. After an x-ray, it was determined that he indeed had a broken collar bone. It wasn’t a bone that can be set, but needed supported by a sling for several weeks until the bone healed. Since John hadn’t been with us, if the nurse had asked either of us about our safety, that may have been an easy out. That also meant that one of us would have had felt confident enough to answer honestly. Despite all of the red flags I flew at them, I don’t remember being asked.