box along with some plates and other stuff from the kitchen. She is very busy, has that determined look on her face and is packing as fast as she can. Since she is this busy, maybe I can sneak into the bedroom without her knowing it. I may have some toys in there. I walk back towards the bedroom through the dining area.
When I get back to the bedroom door, I look around carefully to make sure Mommy can’t see me. The door is closed, but I practiced opening it before. I reach up with both hands and can barely reach the doorknob. Twisting it to the left with all my strength, on the second or third try, I am thrilled when the door starts to open.
I better not let Mommy see me in the bedroom, I thought, so I close the door carefully. Inside the bedroom, there are two twin beds with white bedspreads. The brown five drawer tall dresser is on my right. In order to check to see if some of my toys are under the first bed, I crawl on my knees and look underneath. No toys here, so I crawl out around the first bed.
Wow, I think I see Daddy's legs hanging off the end of the other bed! I am so thrilled, without getting to my feet; I crawl rapidly over to the legs. It is my Daddy! I recognize his shoes. I am so excited! My Daddy is here! My Daddy is here!
From my knees, I reach up, grab the bedspread and pull myself up on the bed just to the left of his legs. It definitely looks like Daddy because he is wearing a white T-shirt that he always wears around the house after he comes home. As I crawl on the left side of him, I smell something awful and feel something hard and crunchy under my hands and knees. That hard stuff cracks into pieces as I crawl over it. It smells really musty and strong and makes my nose feel funny. Nevertheless, I am very excited because I am with my Daddy.
When I crawl up to his face, I am surprised, because it is a different color than my Daddy’s face. He is laying on his back, his arms spread wide with his face turned slightly to the right. I look closely at his mouth, nose and eyes. The eyes are very tightly closed and squinting. His mouth is open and has a funny look on it. This cannot be my Daddy. Whoever he is; he has brown curly hair just like him. However, the face I am looking at is a darker color, so it cannot be him.
I am so close to his face, I reach out with my right hand and touch it. The face is cold, not warm like Daddy’s face is, and there is still that awful smell. I am scared because I do not know who this person is. Thinking of mother in the kitchen, I need to get out now so she will not spank me.
I crawl backwards while still feeling that crunchy stuff again, go down to the floor on my feet, and walk as quickly as I can back to the door. I am still worried my Mommy will find me in here. I reach up with my hands; twist the doorknob and the door opens again. Walking outside the room, I carefully close the door by pulling it toward me until it clicks.
A few seconds later, while still a foot or so from the bedroom door, Mommy came out of the dining area.
“Patrick, where have you been? What have you been up to,” she said.
Coming over to me, she takes both of my hands and looks at them. They both had that funny reddish hard stuff on them from the bed that is now sticking to my hands in small translucent pieces. She asked,
“What is this on your hands? You have it on your legs, too,” she asked.
She quickly brushed it off my hands and my legs and said,
“Don’t get into anything more, now. I am almost done in the kitchen so we can leave shortly.”
I looked back at the bedroom door and she said,
“Remember, I told you not to go in there.”
Taking me by one hand, we walk through the dining area back into the kitchen and she sits me down on a chair while she finishes packing the box.
“You stay right here with your Sister while I take these boxes downstairs to the car,” she says. I did not dare move. I sat there watching Lauren, who is grabbing the bars on the crib
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