Chapter Five

It was hard to move. Even free of the straps running across my chest, the cast on my collarbone and shoulder limited my mobility. I was getting frustrated as I felt the tears pooling on my face. I released a long sigh. I moaned. “This all sucks—all the flashbacks. I’d never been so scared. And it was all my fault.”

My mom turned her head and stared at me. “Haley! Your fault? Why?”

I loved the fact that everything was out in the open. My had been calling me Haley, and all the nurses had been saying my name, too. Even though I hurt all over and had the worst headaches, it made me happy inside. I sighed. “You know. Suppose I’d never told anyone about my wanting to be a girl. If I’d just kept it a secret, well, Dad wouldn’t have beat me, and he wouldn’t be in jail, and everything would still be perfect.”

I felt my Mom’s hand brush my cheek. “Nonsense, baby. None of this is your fault. Your father was waiting to explode. Whether it had been you or me or some innocent driver who’d cut him off, he was a walking timebomb.”

I watched her shake with emotions. Then she lowered her voice and talked. “Fifteen years ago, when we first married, he was different. He laughed, he made jokes, and he loved me. And when you were born, I thought he loved you, too. But things started to change when I discovered he was jealous of you.”

I was listening and trying to picture their early days together. “Why?”

“I believe he wanted me all to himself, and I guess I was paying so much attention to you that I didn’t notice. But he started to get crazy. It happened very slowly. One time, he told me that you were the reason he couldn’t become a success. He said that working to take care of us ruined his future. After hearing him say angry things about you daily, I remember telling him I would leave. I told him I’d take you and move home. I knew my father would take care of us. And I told him that we wouldn’t be the excuse for his failures anymore. We wouldn’t be around to stand in his way.”

I squeezed her hand.

“When I talked back to him, things got quiet. I remember him hitting me and twisting my wrist until it became so sore it wouldn’t move. That’s when we left the first time. When we got to my parent’s house, my mom took me to a doctor. I got an x-ray and discovered that he’d snapped a bone in my wrist. My father was furious and wanted him arrested. I begged him not to.”

“I didn’t hear from your dad for a week. Of course, he was crying and apologizing, saying everything would change and he would be better. I believed him and moved back to our little apartment. But it slowly got worse.”

I looked at her face. She looked so tired and upset. I used my good hand to hold hers. “Maybe things will change. Maybe he’ll wake up.”

“No, honey. Nothing is going to get better. Your father is never coming back. Our lawyer told me he would stay in jail until his hearing. Our lawyer will share what he’s done to us at the hearing. I’ve kept all my medical records from the first time he hit me.”

“The first time?”

She wiped her eyes. “Yes, I’ve been hit several times. And each time, I got photographs and X-rays. But I was afraid to tell my parents. I started covering up for him. But no more. We’re going to ask the judge to keep him locked up and treated for his mental illness, too. I can’t hate him, but we will build a case for a restraining order.

“Well, I still was the one that flipped him out.”

“No. You never did anything. He was too busy worrying about himself. He never thought of you or me. He got bent out of shape because he was embarrassed over suddenly having a trans child. He never discussed this with you or me. His opinions were so skewed that the world was passing him by. And there was no reasoning with him.”

I watched her crying. I felt sad and helpless.

“Haley, it’s not your doing. I’m happy you can be yourself, and I will ensure things improve. But we need to start things happening. We’ll make an appointment to see your pediatrician and get you a counselor to work with. I’ll become proactive and take all the steps necessary for you. I’m not ashamed of you or me, and I’m never blaming you for all this.”

We were hugging when my hand touched the top of my head. I was crying tears of joy and got the shock of my life. I WAS BALD!

I must have made a noise. “Mom, what happened to me?”

Mom hugged me as tightly. I still had my shoulder in a cast and the big bandage on my nose. Whenever her arm brushed my nose, I whimpered in pain. I was a mess, a bald mess.

“The clippers that your father used on you were dirty, and he cut the skin in several places. The doctors were afraid that there was a good chance of infection, and they worried about flesh-eating viruses. They decided that shaving your head completely was the simplest and most secure option. Those deep cuts needed stitches. But you never knew because you were in a coma.”

“I was in a coma?”

I watched my mom wince. “It was so horrible. The doctors said that you were struck on your head and that you suffered a brain bleed. When the ambulance came, you were having a seizure and fell into a coma. I was so afraid for you.”

Listening to all this, I realized I didn’t know what had happened. I was sobbing uncontrollably.