Bad Girl House

The following Spring we were still renting the small house in my grandparent’s neighborhood. Early one calm sunny morning, I heard a knock at our door while I was getting Jessica dressed. I didn’t think anything of it. It could have been a Girl Scout selling cookies, or a neighbor who needed help with something. It could have even been my grandpa stopping by while he was taking a walk. It turned out to be anything but the everyday occurrence that I figured that it was.

John rushed into Jessica’s room to get me. With the rare look of panic on his face, he frantically whispered,

“The cops are at the door! I don’t know if they already saw me in here, but if they tell them I’m not home. If they ask, tell them that I’m my brother, Tom.” John was talking so fast, that I could hardly process what he was saying. I didn’t understand why he didn’t just open the door and find out what the officers wanted. John was quickly becoming impatient with me.

“Go! Go! Go!” I picked up Jessica and started walking towards the side door where the police were. John was still whispering from Jessica’s room as I neared the door.

“You might have to keep them busy while I go out the bedroom window.” The only accessible door to the house was the one that the police were waiting at. The actual front door was blocked by a couch in our tiny living room. I still had no idea what was making John react this way to having several police officers in his driveway. Why was just the sight of them was making him think about making a run for it? He didn’t know why the police were at our door. Or did he? It may not have actually had anything to do with him, but within seconds he was planning his escape.

As I reached to open the door, my thoughts returned to John telling me to lie to the police. It either did not cross his mind that I could get in trouble for doing that, or he just did not care what would happen to me. I had one arm around Jessica, and the other shaking as my hand grabbed the handle. My heart was racing contemplating what I was about to do. It made me nervous to talk to the police in general, let alone to forcibly lie to them. I pulled the door open, to see three officers standing in the driveway. The one closest to the door asked me if John was home. I couldn’t make the words come out of my mouth. I felt like I stood there in silence for an eternity, but I eventually told the officer that John wasn’t there. I quickly looked over at John out of the corner of my eye. He was trying to move the drapes just enough to peak outside without being seen. The officer continued to question me.

“Then who’s in there with you? We saw a man in there.” I continued to do what John had told me to do. Out of breath and stuttering, I said that my brother-in-law was the person they had seen. I felt so guilty about what I had just done. Should I really have been trying to hide John like he wanted me to? There was no way I had convinced the police of anything, and John must have known it. He quickly came up behind me, also telling the officers the he was his actually his brother, Tom. I backed away from the door, and walked away to protect Jessica from anything that might happen. I was in the living room when I suddenly heard the sounds of yelling and wrestling outside. I didn’t know what to do, or where to go. I didn’t want to see what was happening outside, or get in the middle of any of it. I took Jessica into the bathroom, and sat down on the toilet. This was the only room in the house where there weren’t any windows. I was confused and crying while having to comfort an infant who had absolutely no idea what was going on. Jessica and I were in exactly the same boat, being totally in the dark about what was happening around us.

Even from the bathroom I could hear the police yelling at John not to resist them. Above all the sounds, I suddenly heard a sickening scream. John was refusing to cooperate with the police, so they had no choice but to pepper spray him. I heard the sound of scuffling even after his scream, and I believe that they needed to spray him a second time.

It finally became quiet outside. A female officer entered the house calling for me. I opened the bathroom door and slowly came out. She asked me to follow her. I was scared to death that I was going to be arrested for what I had said to them. I was afraid to see what John looked like after what I’d heard. John was in handcuffs, kneeling in the ground. He face was swollen and irritated from the pepper spray. His eyes were red and watering. His nose was running uncontrollably. I’d never seen anything like it. Another officer told me that I could go get a towel to wipe is face. The female officer offered to hold Jessica for me while I ran inside for a towel. When I came back I knelt down on the ground in front of John. I tried my best, but there didn’t seem to be anything I could do. I just seemed to be spreading the spray too close to his eyes again, obviously making it worse. John didn’t hesitate to tell me that that was exactly what I was doing. He told me not to bother to help him, so I stopped trying.

When I stood up, the officers took me aside to talk to me. They had already known that John was in the house before they had knocked on the door. They showed me that they had a picture of him. I have to wonder how far John would have taken things if they hadn’t had a picture. What kind of story would he have continued to weave? The officer that was still holding Jessica, told me that I had obstructed justice by lying to them. If they had thought it was necessary, they could have taken Jessica from me that day, and arrested me as well. She asked me if I wanted that to happen. I, of course, said no. By some miracle, Jessica was then handed back to me instead of being placed into child protective services. I had never felt so relieved in my life. While a hugged my daughter, John was put into the back of one of their cruisers.

I was told that they were there to serve a warrant to John. He was $6000 behind on paying his child support for Johnathan. They also told me that I would be able to call the station to find out what to do next.

After the police pulled away, I sat at my kitchen holding my head in my hands. It was quiet in the house, but the confusion of questions in my mind was blaring. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. Even though I knew that I had to start calling people to tell them what I’d just experienced, I didn’t know how to actually say it when they answered. My hands trembled as I dialed, and put the phone to my ear. I called John’s parents first. I can’t say that they were overly comforting, but they still told me not to worry. They were going to see how soon they would be allowed to post bail. It wasn’t long before John was able to call me. His tone was anything but remorseful. I didn’t expect him to ask how I was doing, but it would have been nice. He told me that he was going to have to wait for an arraignment hearing even before bail would be processed. He also wanted me to make sure that I told his mother to bring him bags of new socks and underwear. He wanted nothing to do with what he was being given at the jail.

The upcoming weekend was supposed to be one of visitation with Johnathan, so my next call needed to be to his mom. When she picked up the phone I began telling her about what had happened, and that we would have to reschedule our weekend. She didn’t sound the least bit surprised about what I had just told her. It had been her that had started the ball rolling that ultimately ended with the police being at my house. I told her about his resisting arrest and the pepper spray. She wasn’t surprised by that either. As we kept talking, she said that she was only comfortable sending Jonathan to see his father, because I was there to keep an eye on things. Being in shock by what I had just gone through, I didn’t know what to say to that. I couldn’t actually process what she was trying to tell me. That was the only warning that I ever received from someone about John. I couldn’t help but think about her words after I hung up the phone. They were more words that would follow me as John’s abuse got progressively worse.

John’s arraignment was scheduled in a few days. I stared at the telephone until it finally rang with news. John was told by the judge that he was still required to pay all of the child support that he had not yet paid to Johnathan’s mother. The problem was that he needed to pay it to be released from jail. He knew that his parents weren’t going to be able to give him that much money since they hadn’t been working consistently. John told me to ask my mom for the money. I didn’t really have a choice. I either had to ask her to help us, or leave him in jail. It’s never easy to ask someone for that much money, even if you know that they’ll say yes.

Soon after the back child support money had been given to Johnathan’s mother, there was talk about her buying a small house with her new husband. This should have been great news. They had been living in an apartment for some time, and were finally able to start house shopping. Johnathan would have another house to call home. John didn’t see the positive in their situation. He assumed that when they did find a house, they were going to use the money they had received for a down payment, which was true. For some reason, he didn’t think that was how it should have been used. He thought that it should have gone directly towards things for Johnathan. He also talked about the money as if it came out of his own pocket. He didn’t see it as money that he borrowed from my mom. Money that didn’t have to be given to him. Money that got him out of jail. Everyone tried to remind him that child support is meant to pay for much more than just food, clothes, and toys.