Chapter 3
As sunlight streamed into the sunroom Brad slowly awoke. Amy was still curled up in his arms. She appeared to not have moved at all during the night.
"Damn, she's right. They are sexy pajamas," Brad thought.
Brad gently woke Amy while still continuing to hold her. As she awoke she looked up into his eyes trying to figure out where she was and how she had got into the chair with Brad. As she became aware of her surroundings she sat up on Brad's lap and looked at him.
"Thanks for holding me last night," Amy said quietly. "You're a good man"
"Amy get your clothes out of the dryer and get dressed," Brad said. We have to go to the police station and talk to the police."
Fear came again into Amy's eyes. "What will they do to me?" she asked.
"They will do nothing to you. They just want to ask you a few questions," he said. Amy arose, retrieved her clothes from the dryer and walked up stairs.
Brad started fixing some bacon and eggs for breakfast. Amy walked into the kitchen, looked at the bacon and eggs and said that she didn't know if she wanted anything to eat.
"Try," Brad ordered.
He set a glass of orange juice and a plate of the bacon and eggs in front of her and set a plate for himself. Amy drank all of her orange juice but just picked at the bacon and eggs.
"I don't want anymore," she said.
Brad finished his breakfast. He picked up the plate; silverware and glasses scraped the plates into the garbage disposal and put the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher. Amy sat in silence staring at nothing. Brad didn't speak to her knowing that she needed some time for her own thoughts. After the dishes were in the dishwasher he sat down at the table with her.
Amy we have to talk," Brad said. "Do you have any relatives that could take you in?"
"No. My father was not someone people wanted to be around. I never knew of any relatives," she said. Tears started again. "What's going to happen now? I don't have any place to go," she cried.
Brad replied, " Let's talk to the police first and then we will make some arrangements for you." Out of nowhere Brad said, "Amy, don't worry. I won't let any harm come to you."
Brad was shocked at what he just said. Was this Vera putting words in his mouth? He had never had to provide for a young girl and had no idea what was involved. He was fearful that he was not qualified to take on this task.
"Did your parents own their home?" Brad inquired.
"No," she replied. " They rented and they were always behind on their rent."
A puzzled look crossed her eyes; "Can they make me pay the back rent?"
Brad chuckled. "No Amy, they can not hold you responsible for the debts of your father. Come on a let's get this over with the police."
The questioning by the police took only about and hour and a half. As Amy was not home when the beating of her mother took place, she could offer little information about the crime. When the issue of Amy's care came up, Brad said that she would be staying with him until something permanent could be worked out. Corporal Harrison said that he would have Social Services informed and would have a caseworker talk to Amy in the afternoon. When Brad asked if Amy could get her clothes from the house, Corporal Harrison told them that she probably didn't have any clothes at the house. When the police had arrested Myron Walton there was a pile of clothes on fire in the back yard. Apparently, that is what sparked the argument between Amy's mother and father. Brad and Amy left the police station and started the ride home.
Brad could tell that something was bothering her. "What's wrong Amy, something is on your mind," he asked.
"Could we stop at a drug store?" she asked. "I need to get a few things. I don't think I'm pregnant."
Brad pulled into the shopping center and stopped in a parking spot in front of the drug store. He handed her three twenty-dollar bills and told her to get whatever else she needed. An hour later Amy approached the car with two large shopping bags. She got into the car and flashed Brad a sheepish grin.
"You should know better than to give a teenager money," she said smiling.
Brad gave her a smile and started the car. The drive home was uneventful. Amy and Brad were each lost to their own thoughts.
As Brad pulled into the garage he heard the telephone in the kitchen ringing. He hurriedly unlocked the door and grabbed the phone. "Hello!"
"This is Rita Askins of Social Services. Is this Mr. Pittson?" she asked.
"Yes it is," Brad replied. "What can I do for you?"
"I would like to come over to your house and interview Miss Amy Walton this afternoon, if I could. Would that be ok with you?" she inquired. "At that time we can make arrangements to have Miss Walton transferred to a foster home," Ms. Askins went on.
"What's wrong with leaving her here for now?" Brad asked.
"Well, Mr. Pittson, as I understand it you are a single man living alone. I really don't feel that leaving Miss Walton in that type of environment would be in her best interests." she replied.
"But you feel that putting her in a foster home where she is just another mouth to feed would be better," Brad retorted.
After a long silence at the other end of the phone, Brad told Ms. Askins to come over any time, as they would be home all afternoon.
Brad turned to Amy who had been listening to his side of the telephone conversation. " Amy I have to ask you something." She had her back to him looking out of the kitchen window. "Please give me an honest answer," he said. "You know that they will want to put you in a foster home until you graduate from high school. Is that what you want or would you like to make your home right here. I have never had to deal with teenagers before, but I think that I could muddle my way through."
"Why would you want to do that?" she asked.
"Because I think that this would be best for both of us. I need something to pull me out of my lethargy and you need a stable home life," Brad replied. "I think with a little work on both our parts we can pull this off."
Amy turned around and faced Brad. She had a grin from ear to ear and tears were running down her cheeks. She ran to him and threw her arms around his neck. After a minute Brad pried her from around his neck and held her at arms length.
"Amy, I know very little about you. How about telling me a little about yourself? How old are you? What grade are you in school? Are you going to college? How are your studies?
Brad led her over to the kitchen table and gently pushed her to the chair.
He looked at the young girl, "Well?"
"I'm seventeen, she hesitated, and I'll be eighteen in eleven months. I'm a junior this year and I never thought about college. All I could think of was getting out of that house as soon as I could. I'm not very good at school because I just didn't see the need to study, knowing that I would probably have to be a waitress or something the rest of my life. I guess you realize my home life was pretty bad. My dad, I mean Myron was not really my dad, my father died of cancer when I was three years old. My mother married Myron when I was five. She couldn't make it on her own."
Brad started to get tears in his eyes and turned to look out of the kitchen window so that Amy wouldn't see the tears. He was amazed that she seemed to be a very nice person in spite of her home life.
"Was Myron drunk all of the time?"
"I don't ever remember him without beer or whiskey on his breath. Whenever money was tight he would drink cheap wine. I tried to stay away from him then because he was really bad then. He used to beat my mother almost every day. I, at least, got slapped everyday. Myron was not easy to get along with."
"At least he never molested you," Brad said quietly.
Amy looked down at the floor, "He would pull my pants down and spank me for things he said that I did wrong and then would rub my bottom. He said that he loved me and was trying to rub the pain away. He made me feel ashamed. One night I woke up and he was in my bed rubbing me all over. I fought him off and ran out of the house in my pajamas. I hid until morning and went back to the house. He acted like nothing had happened. After that I put a chair against my door at night. Sometimes I would hear him try the door and then go away."
"Didn't your mother try to stop him?" Brad asked.
"My mother was scared of him. He put her in the hospital four times. The first time he hurt her, I was little and she figured that she needed him to help support us. He told her he would kill her if she ever told the cops. She protected me what little she could. I think she gave up on life when I was still little. She even seemed to get used to being beat so often."
Brad pushed his chair away from the table and stood, "Why don't you watch television or something. I have a few phone calls to make. If you're going to stay here I'll have to be appointed your guardian. I still have a few friends in the city who think that I am a fairly nice guy. Maybe I can convince them to let me take care of you.
Amy got up and walked into the living room. Brad heard the
television come on and walked to his office.