there's no where to go but home

No Where to Go but Home:

[How a near death experience sheltered a Toddler to help him survive what was to come]

©Peter J. O'Lalor 2012

No Where to Go but Home Peter O'Lalor

Pitar was amazed and quite relieved. His memories stretching

back decades, found him nearly two years old. Pitar was not an

ordinary toddler. His Sister, five years his senior had started a journal

in her first Foster home. Some years later she shared it with him.

Now he knew, there was no doubt. What he remembered was

validated by the journal. Not that Satya knew what he remembered

but at least she could corroborate the home and family he was born

into and for many years to come would not know.

Certain events as well were shared. Pitar and Satya laughed when

he shared his first memory of Christmas. His crib in a small drab,

sparsely furnished room; across the hallway from the green and

yellow kitchen, next to the Parlor, was his world, for a little while.

It was Christmas morning in his second year. Pitar was always

climbing out of his crib and this morning, not that he knew any thing

about Christmas, some sort of raucous between his two older siblings,

six and seven years his senior, found Pitar climbing up and out of his

crib. Down on all fours Pitar scampered to see what the fuss was

about. Devon and Mikhail were fighting over a gun and holster set

from the old American West, while a television show, Boom Town

was in the background. It was then that Pitar, for the first time would

recognized the thundering footsteps, of his giant. The floor upon

which Pitar crawled rattled with each step. As if he was not there at


all, Dad walked right over Pitar and put to rest; the fighting between

Devon and Mikhail.

Suddenly, a pair of gentle hands grasped Pitar from behind to be

lifted into the arms of his Mother. She rushed him away and placed

him back in his crib without a word, and was gone. Pitar even in

much later years recounted these memories with a sense that he was

just a witness. Wide eyed and wondered, Pitar soaked in every

person, place, and thing. Yet, he could not understand the gibberish

and noise, which was often was very loud coming from the mouths

of his Parents, two Brothers, and two Sisters, Satya and Tanya. Soon

however a miraculous event would change that. For now there were

more adventures to be had.

The Rabbit stew at Easter and Pitar’s tantrum was one moment

filled with excitement, laughter, and pandemonium. His four siblings

teased the toddler that the Easter Bunny was the Rabbit in the stew.

Pitar began wailing and banging his high chair tray, as his siblings

laughed at his inward confusion and fear. Pitar knew Dad was coming

as the floor began shaking beneath his size 13D shoes. So Dad firmly

placed a bowl on the high chair tray with a clear expectation of

compliance. His Siblings were certainly silenced. Pitar looked up,

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way up. Dad was six foot and five inches tall. He was as wide as he

was deep. It was Pitar’s first experience with omnipresence. Dad

seemed to fill the room with his presence. Pitar had no fear though

and he certainly was not going to eat the Easter Bunny. So with the

energy of a mighty Zeus hurling lightening bolts, Pitar kicked the tray

with all his might as the stew sprayed the entire table before him, as

his siblings ran for cover. Again, it was back to the crib. No words,

no nothing. Just gently placed. Pitar stood upon his knees and pressed

his face between the slats he was holding and simply watched what

was going on in the kitchen. Calm had returned.

Soon it was Summer. Pitar was found to be crawling away from

the ice cream truck; as his Father placed him on the ground; fumbling

with his wallet. There were four other children clamoring as children

do when the ice cream truck arrived. in the projects built for soldiers

returning from World War II. It would not be the first time that Pitar

scampered away, but the adventures were slowly turning dangerous.

Pitar scurried like a happy Squirrel across the grass dragging his little

stuffed Bear along behind him. Coming to a fence, Pitar and his little

Bear ascended the obstacle. Gingerly gasping each link slowly utntil

he reached the top. Pitar placed his bear upon the top of the fence for

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comfort. After all; his bear was his best friend. Pitar could see and

hear the sounds of the city. He was filled with wonderment.

Suddenly a slow vibration agitated the fence, as a menacing sound

shook Pitar's world. For the moment, it was the only sound then

some kind of roaring and clanging thing, began to rush by rattling on

its rails. As it came whooshing by, Pitar was now for the first time

experiencing fear. His little scream was barely audible, as he fell

backward looking toward the sky, desperately holding onto his Bear.

The stuffed animal had been pierced by the jagged metal atop the

fence. Pitar hung on for dear life, as the Bear ripped in two, as its

stuffing took to the wind, and was sucked away in a whirlwind by the

passing trolley.

Now however, the stomping of his giant Father was most happily

felt. As the trolley’s roar lessened the ground now shook with the

welcome anticipation of Dad. Pitar’s Father, just in time, grasped

Pitar by his diapered hips, and in catching Pitar; his poor Bear was no

more, completely torn asunder. Dad grabbed him under his arms and

held him to the sky. Pitar was even higher than his Dad now. Their

eyes met and a solemn and mutual relief accompanied their gaze. No

words were said, no reprimand, just relief. Dad let him down slowly

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and like a bundle of laundry; curled his giant arm around him, and

walked back to the gang of kids waiting for their ice cream.

Pitar was too much in shock to even remember his Bear. As days

went by Pitar found himself in the cellar of the nearby Church. There

were many children there, one woman, it was colorful, but had an

odd smell. Or at least an unfamiliar smell. The children were put

down to nap in the afternoon. Pitar however, was not one to sleep

much and certainly not in the middle of the day.

One day however, his Mother appeared at the door. As usual he

was scurrying about as the good kids were napping, as was expected.

Pitar’s Mother was not happy. The pre-school teacher had called

Pitar’s Mother to come and get the kid. Pitar was being expelled

because Pitar refused to take a nap! Which of course instigated the

other children offering much comedy as he was chased about by his

teacher. When his stooped to retrieve the little rug rat, Pitar

hurriedly scooted under the large piano, laughing at the Women’s

frustration. They could not reach him.

Pitar’s little giggles were met with looks of grave and uncertain

disapproval. A man appeared and carefully moved the piano. Pitar’s

Mother angrily grabbed him, and proceeded to exit the Church’s

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cellar. As Pitar looked back it was apparent that he was looking at

the kids on the floor with great satisfaction. Pitar felt victorious and

never had to go back. Which was unfortunate because his next

journey was going to prove to be a near fatal one.

Pitar was an observer. Still unable to make sense out of the garbled

noise called speech; Pitar had other qualities that allowed him to

understand without knowledge. When Father bellowed and all looked

his way; Pitar watched with earnest at everyone else.

Pitar could not be held captive in his crib either. A new crib with

high slats; was only a small challenge. It was this day that Pitar, now

three years of age would explore the world, alone, and meet with dire

consequences.

Noticing the baby-sitter had fallen asleep and his siblings where

not to be found, Pitar climbed up and over his new crib. He slowly

walked toward the front door grabbing his new red tricycle on his

way. Gently he opened the door and walked toward the familiar

elevator. Pitar was observant. Many times in the elevator he would

watch what buttons to push. Standing on his tricycle he pushed the

bottom button. Going inside and repeating the procedure, before he

knew it, he was in the lobby.

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Pitar was infused with glee. He pedaled his little bike out the front

door, that had been held open to cool the building from the summers

heat and humidity. He was alone, all alone in the world, and their was

nothing to stop him, until his fatal end, as he pushed ever onward

toward a very busy city street in Boston.

Feeling invincible Pitar roared onto the main road. Suddenly his

little feet could not keep up with the tricycle. He was going down a

big hill and very quickly. Ages would pass as Pitar would never

forget what was about to happen.

In the distance an object appeared and it was coming closer and

the closer it came, the quicker it approached. The object was

accompanied by a large sound that bellowed black smoke as it

stressed to climb the hill. It was a truck. It was an old truck with

a wooden bumper reaching down toward the ground. Covering the

grill, there were holes cut out for the headlights. Without warning the

truck, its sound, and its bumper , slammed into little Pitar. WHAM!

One huge bright light was all that little Pitar knew; then blackness.

Slowly as if emerging from a mist; Pitar found himself floating

above a horrific scene and stood by observing without fear the

commotion below. There were many people, some in blue, some in

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black, and the woman, the beautiful woman; he would someday know

as his Mother; and lose at the same time, frantically stood by. He

looked to see a man in blue lift a small body from the grille of a

parked car, where Pitar's body was twisted amidst the metal, the

blood, and his tricycle.

Pitar watched with great curiosity. Pitar was ironically at peace.

Little did Pitar know; it was his body. Pitar was in the sky; being

pulled upward. It was a strong sensation of being taken away. Pitar

struggled against this feeling because he wanted, even needed to

know more. The reason was - was that he began to understand what

had been just noise when people spoke. Pitar was now able to

understand language.

A man in blue gently lifted a limp, torn, and bloodied body from

the wreckage, walking toward his Mother. A sudden grim silence

descended upon the crowd, as the man in blue walked toward Pitar's

Mother. Pitar's body was bright red, its head fallen backward, its

mouth agape, and its limp arms swung as the man in blue approached

Pitar's Mother. The sensation of being pulled skyward increased with

great force. Unfortunately the first words Pitar would understand

were, “I'm sorry Mam... He's dead. Mother and Son were in a mutual

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and morbid shock.

Pitar started to feel he was giving into the attraction pulling him

away until... The man in blue placed little Pitar's body in his Mother's

arms. She screamed with a gut wrenching, ear piercing, Heaven

shaking, shrill; that shook the very thing that was pulling Pitar away.

Pitar not understanding but feeling overwhelming compassion, he

reached out toward the Woman, and in slow motion descended

toward the Woman, he still did not know was his Mother.

As his Mother wrenched little Pitar's body from the man in blue;

Pitar's body was forcefully brought toward the woman's breast. Blood

showered and sprayed all around her, lifting like a ghastly Tsunami

spraying her face, chest, and neck.

With feelings of great compassion; Pitar struggled to reach out and

touch the Woman. He would always remember that feeling. That

great need to calm someone when they were in the throes of hysteria.

The struggle against the force pulling him skyward, waned, and he

slowly moved downward toward his Mother. Pitar touched her heart

and when his hand went through her, Pitar became confused, joined

his body, returned to life, and fell into a coma. Now joined with the

body, he would one day know was, he would have his daily mantra

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some day: I am not my body and my body is not me.

There was nothing really to remember. It had all been forgotten.

One day Pitar seemed to come back to consciousness and he

remembered the Church, the apartment building, his home and

siblings, but things seemed different. This day was a sad day. Perhaps

that is why Pitar came to, so to speak.

Pitar now more than three years old, was sitting on the floor

outside his bedroom when a knock came to the door. It was not his

giant Father; he had not been there. It was not his beautiful Mother,

for she had seemed to have gone away as well. An older sibling

opened the door and two strangers appeared. Pitar did not know or

remember that the Man and Woman were his Grandparents. His

Sister's Satya and Tanya began crying, while Mikhael and Devon

busied themselves with carrying out suitcases and boxes. The

Grandmother stooped to embrace Pitar and as usual he scurried away.

He was soon apprehended, and all left the apartment.

Upon arriving at Grandfather's car, Pitar took notice of the shiny

black and chrome studded large vehicle. All got in but Satya and

Tanya were still crying. Grandfather seemed worried and

Grandmother started crying too. Pitar did not understand as the car's

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engine roared and sped away. Pitar was never to return.

Soon Grandmother produced some chocolate bars. To Pitar's joy

he gobbled them up; or at least what did not melt upon his face and

hands. It was a clear Autumn day. Pitar had no memory of the past

year but he did remember the accident. However, he had neither the

impetus nor the means to talk about it. He just remembered it. Yet,

this day he would remember for the rest of his life.

Pitar could not read but the car stopped in front of the Home for

Little Wanderers. Ironically across the street some years later, which

was now a vacant lot; when Pitar was grown, he would visit his dying

Grandfather in the yet to be built Veterans Hospital.

A Woman came out to greet the Grandparents. Pitar was still

covered in melted chocolate. His siblings were given Butterfly nets

and ran past the fence, while Pitar was left alone standing very

confused as his Grandparents sped off in their big black, shiny car. As

it disappeared from sight, tears overtook Pitar, feeling all had

abandoned him. Then a woman appeared and took him by the wrist

and began to lead him inside the Orphanage.

“Stop” Pitar commanded, “I want to go home.” “This is your home

now Pitar,” the woman said tersely. “No it's not!” exclaimed the little

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Pitar, “I want to go with my Brothers and Sisters.”

The woman increasing her tone said, “Look Kid, your Brothers

and Sisters will be back. You are not old enough to go off grounds

with them.” Pitar took his little foot and kicked the Matron and began

to run; right out into traffic, right out into the very Trolley tracks Pitar

had seen when he had lost his Bear. This time however, Pitar would

not feel the reassurance of his giant Father's footsteps. Instead, Pitar

was grabbed by the arm, as the Matron dragged him up the stairs to

the dark and scary Orphanage.

This was the beginning of a new horror for Pitar. This was the

beginning of four years of physical torture, psychological torture,

violence, being locked in his room, and unrelenting, isolated fear.

This was the year, the very day, the exact moment, when Pitar

became an elective mute. It would not be long; arriving at his first

Foster Home that Pitar wished to be back at the Orphanage, being

slapped, hit, yelled at, and even trampled on a lonely, sad, Christmas

day. He would survive though; eventually knowing love; but only the

memory of his near death experience would shelter him for what was

to come. However, there would be no compassion for Pitar.

Pitar didn't remember leaving the Orphanage. Neither did he

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remember arriving at his first Foster home. Pitar's memory had

remained intact and he realized he was in command of his thoughts

and feelings. How Pitar remembered was visual. He was only four

years old now. His new home was dark, with an awful smell that

made it hard to breathe. His first memory was Devon. His Brother

was there and while Pitar was to stay, Devon would not.

Only one memory gave momentary comfort to him. Devon had

taken him for a walk along the railroad tracks. Devon was seven years

his senior. Pitar did not remember what he said but it was the last

time he would see Devon, for many years, and for a long time Pitar

would not again, see the outside world.

Devon was taken away and Pitar would learn later in life his

Grandparents had taken Devon. Pitar was now alone. He was not

allowed to leave his room and Pitar felt fortunate for this. Otherwise,

the man would often strike Pitar, and for no apparent reason. Pitar's

memory was visual. If it moved Pitar could remember it. It wasn't a

photographic memory like looking at a page and taking a snapshot.

Pitar's memory was always a moving memory, like a video. Many

days Pitar sat on a small chair, he had perched atop his bed so he

could look outside the window. It was then he would reflect his near

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death experience and wonder about the sky, the Woman, and trying

to touch her, only to remember with great sadness; being taken away

to the Orphanage.

Later in life when Pitar learned to read, he would recall seeing the

Man's hand striking him. He remembered because of the ring the Man

wore. It was silver with a blue stone. It had the letters USN and an

anchor. It had left a permanent scar to the side of Pitar's eye.

Pitar was often frozen with fear. He was never attended to. He

was never cleaned, or groomed, or bathed. He was on two occasions

brought from the house. Once during a rain storm he heard the

Woman say, “Take the filthy little brat outside and maybe the rain

will wash him.” Pitar was dragged by the arm to the backyard. Left to

stand not knowing what to do. Alone Pitar stood behind the house

were there was a fence on either side, and a high and rocky hill

behind him. Pitar stood motionless as the sky grew dark and it began

to pour. Suddenly a snake appeared; it was large compared to little

Pitar and since he had never seen one; he was not afraid.

Without warning the Man came rushing out of the house with a

shovel. A spade actually, and he seemed to be quite satisfied when he

struck the snake with the spade killing it, as the shovel was thrust

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downward, severing the snake's head.

Needless to say Pitar was used to shock; as the Man said “ Come

brat; your clean enough.” Pitar didn't move. “Did you hear me?” The

Man bellowed. “Go inside the house!”

Pitar didn't move, torn between fright and compassion for the

reptile's fate. The man grabbed Pitar by the scruff of the neck; striking

him aside his face, dragging him motionless, and shoving Pitar into

his room paralyzed with fear.

Another time Pitar needed to be bathed was when the Man and the

Woman took him out across the street to a lake. The man was telling

Pitar he needed to learn how to swim. Laughing, the man took Pitar

out into the water until it reached the man's neck. Holding the little

boy above the water, and stretching his arms, the man said, “Go

ahead Pitar it's time to learn how to swim,” as he threw Pitar out into

the water. Flailing and fighting for his life, slowly sinking, unable to

even tread water, and nearly drowning, the Man swam out to Pitar

and brought him back to shore. All Pitar remembered was the

laughter, and the gagging and gasping for air.

As time went by things got worse. As Summer faded into Autumn

Pitar was at the kitchen table. Pitar often became sick from the food.

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He learned to chew the food and store it in his cheeks and then go to

the bathroom where he would spit it out and return to repeat the

process. One day in particular two small children appeared at the back

door. One little girl said, “Can we meet the new boy?” “No”, the

Woman said, “he is not allowed outside.” The woman rushed Pitar

from the table, grateful not having to finish his meal, and she returned

him to his room.

His room was often where the screaming, beating, and humiliation

took place. Pitar was not allowed out of his room and was often

incontinent. When the Foster parents discovered it; they would begin

striking him yelling, “You dirty little filthy brat.” Yelling it over and

over while striking little Pitar, across his face and head.

One day Pitar almost broke his silence, and with rage filling within

him, he was about to speak. As if the woman knew; she struck Pitar

across the face and yelled, “You dirty filthy little brat , don't you dare

talk back to me.” She left the room slamming the door. Pitar quietly

placed his chair upon the bed and resumed his ever so brief, moment

of peace, looking out the window, and wondering about the sky.

Nighttime was the worse for Pitar. He was often incontinent during

sleep. He would awake to faces rushing at him; as the blows against

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his face, head, and back fell with the weight of an iron fist. For many

years later; Pitar had trouble falling asleep. It took more than twenty

years for those faces to go away. When he began to drift into a restful

sleep the faces would appear and rush toward him. He would awake

and be greatly startled, and afraid even as an Adult, to go back to

sleep. Many years later he learned how to get rid of them. One night

when he was about twenty seven years old; the faces appeared; and he

took that long time rage and confronted the faces with it, and they

shattered like glass, never to return.

One thing Pitar did to protect himself was to scream when he was

to kick, and scream while being beaten. He was to learn later in life

that the reason another man came to take him to a new home was that

“the neighbors reported the many incidents to the authorities because,

they “grew tired of hearing little Pitar scream.

It was spring now and Pitar was more than five years old when a

Mr. Edwards came to the house. Mr. Edwards took him outside and

Pitar shielded his eyes from the light. The light hurt but as his vision

adjusted; Pitar saw for the first time; a vast waterway. A large building

across the bay bellowing smoke from a huge building, adorned with

smokestacks; decorated with white and blue stripes. He stood in the

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middle of a playground; and he had no idea what it was. He just stood

motionless; staring up at the sky. For it was the sky that Pitar was most

familiar with; and he wondered; where it would have led to if he had

just let it take him so long ago.

Pitar didn't remember all that Mr. Edwards said, but when Mr.

Edwards said “Do you want to go away from this place?” Pitar still an

elective mute, cried and fell into the arms of his new friend, a social

worker. Mr. Edwards repeated his words, “Do you want to leave

here?” All Pitar could do was shake his head, slowly up and down, as

he continued to sob uncontrollably. Soon Pitar was in Mr. Edwards

car, driving away from the violence and the horror. He was fascinated

with how big the world was. Then Pitar felt exhausted and falling

forward into a blissful sleep, for once not being tormented by the

faces, Mr. Edwards gently motioned him to toward him. Pitar felt safe

and soundly fell to sleep in Mr. Edward's lap.

Later in life Pitar was to learn of Poetic Justice. When he was an

Adult he traced back his life. He had found that the man who struck

him so often had put in a swimming pool, in the ver back yard, where

he had seen the snake killed. Pitar had learned about alcoholism too.

Clearly the man, with the navy ring, was an alcoholic. Pitar had

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learned that one day, the man was drunk enjoying his new pool, when

he stumbled due to his debauchery, hit his head on the concrete, and

drowned in his own pool. Pitar was not happy; he felt compassion, as

he did for the snake, and the woman he touched to soothe her grief,

and it seemed like a life time ago.

Pitar's new home was far away, from the grim and dark room he

was imprisoned in and kept from the outside world. Now however, his

world was going to get better; but just a little better. There were

nightmares to live, compassion to find, there was fun to be had, but

unfortunately, violence would still accompany his personal and

spiritual growth.

The first memories of Pitar's new home was that there was a lot of

light. There would be a gentle woman; an occasional male figure; and

a girl near his own age. He was always going to be clean; well dressed,

and well fed. Pitar was going to have some happy memories but not all

were going to be happy. Pitar's memories were and would always

remain; visual and only remain if they were moving. He was still an

elective mute which caused some consternation with his new Foster

Father and Foster Sister; but not his Foster Mother. They were going

to have a deep bond; one of great compassion.

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Pitar felt safe for a while. His Foster Sister Sharon was a soured and

bitter child, for which Pitar had great empathy for, as well as

compassion. Later on Pitar would learn that Sharon would be worse

than an Imp which delights in the troubles of human affairs. Sharon

was actually an instigator and Pitar was soon to learn, he had no

defense for the constant blame, that would bring the violent anger, and

the weight of his Foster Father's back hand to bare on Pitar's person.

With a sinister glare in Sharon's eye; one day she asked if Pitar

would like to play Barber. Pitar not knowing what a Barber was, but

eager to play and placate the troublemaker, Pitar agreed. Suddenly

Sharon produced a pair of pointed scissors, of stainless steel glistening

in the Summers brightness. While Pitar sat submissively, Sharon

stabbed little Pitar in the forehead, and at the hairline, snipped not only

hair but his scalp as well. Blood shot out like an Elephant trumpeting

water. Pitar fell backward; faint from blood loss, remembering only his

Foster Mother lifting him and he remembered seeing as before, the

bright, Summer's light, only to grow dark.

Why did the world want to hurt Pitar so much and so often? It

seemed he always made poor choices. Understanding without

knowledge it appeared, the consistent consequences were somehow his

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fault. He knew what he liked and what he was comfortable with. Pitar

liked the two girls that lived next door and would come to play with

him. They were not like Sharon and even avoided her. Sharon too

avoided them; always with a dark stare; Sharon would glare at the

three of them in the backyard through the widows of the green house.

One evening; his Foster Father came home and Pitar saw Sharon

talking with her Father as she stared menacingly at Pitar, from the

corner of her eye. His Foster Mother began bickering with Pitar's

Foster Father and although Pitar knew the result of drinking alcohol,

he did not know it as being drunk. Pitar's Foster Father commanded

Sharon to take a bath. She complied and the Parents continued to get

louder and louder. Pitar sat on his bed afraid, almost knowing he

would be the brunt of the little and the larger brute's anger.

Pitar's Foster Father burst into the room yelling, “So you like girls,

you like to play with girls, well maybe you should be a girl and started

to rip Pitar's clothes from his body, as his Foster Father held him up.

With a furious anger he carried little Pitar to the bathroom where

Sharon was bathing. He slammed Pitar into the water face to face with

Sharon. Sharon was laughing as Pitar's Foster Father returned with one

of Sharon's hat's and began tying it to Pitar yelling; “Well if you want

to play with girls then you should dress like them.” Pitar yelled and

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screamed, to no avail; all the while noticing the satisfaction and

grimace of Sharon. Pitar's Foster Mother was screaming, “Stop it

Frank; stop it, your being crazy; get out, and with each time she yelled

get out; her voice climbed until it cracked.

Pitar's Foster Mother took Pitar up into her arms and wrapped the

crying Pitar into a soft white towel. She brought him to his bedroom,

dried him off and put on his pajamas. Silently she tucked him in and

said “I'm sorry Pitar, Frank has a problem and I know you don't

understand; but please try to forget it and I'll try to make sure it won't

happen again.”

Pitar stayed awake; he couldn't help it. His Foster parents were

loudly arguing in the nearby Parlor. Pitar heard slapping noise; and his

Foster Mother screaming and crying and things being broken. Then

there was silence. Pitar stayed awake; he couldn't help it. If he had the

chance to fall asleep; the faces would rush at him and he would

awaken with a fright and a heart beating so fast, his chest hurt.

Pitar learned to love his new Mother. She took him every Sunday

to church. Then afterward; there was plenty of pleasant people; there

were snacks, and drinks, and many things that Pitar showed great

interest in. Pitar never spoke and his Foster Mother was never heard

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to make excuses for him.

Pitar's Foster Mother taught Sunday School. She often read from a

big black book. Pitar was always on her lap as she read. Unknowingly

to Pitar's Foster Mother; Pitar began to learn how to read. Later, and

just a couple of years; by the first grade Pitar could read so well he

would show off and read everything. He could even read Adult books

at the Library; which were quickly taken from him. For now however,

some events would lead to great sadness and compassion for his Foster

Mother.

Pitar didn't go to Kindergarten because he didn't speak. So he spent

all of his days alone with his Foster Mother. He always remembered

during the afternoons she would drink the same thing that his Foster

Father drank, which made him angry. It didn't make his Foster Mother

angry though. Often his Foster Mother would put on music. Pitar

always remembered the music because his Foster Mother would dance

with him in the sun lit parlor in the afternoons. He remembered a

soothing voice singing, “Everybody loves somebody sometimes...,”

while the rest was a blur, the melody remained.

One day during this very happy time the Foster Father unexpectedly

showed up. He was in a rage yelling, “Your drunk and dancing with

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that little fairy?” Then he took the back of his hand and struck his

Foster Mother as she fell down crying. “What the F.... is wrong with

you?” Pitar stood in horror and was sent to his room as he continued

to hear slapping and crying, and yelling - and words he did not

understand.

Another day a boy his own age moved into the house across the

street. His name was Scott. Scott was strong in his manner but gentle

with Pitar, as if he knew Pitar was wounded. Scott and Pitar had many

adventures. Scott went to church at the same time, took long walks

with Pitar, and even took him to a friends house where Pitar enjoyed

his first swim in a pool. Scott took him around the neighborhood, and

on Halloween even, helped Pitar avoid Sharon and stay away from

home as much as possible.

One adventure required Scott and Pitar to make a promise of

bravery and secrecy. Pitar and Scott were going to go the end of the

street were the woods were; and see how far it went. So they headed

off on a brisk and blustery Autumn day. To their surprise it didn't take

long for them reach the other side. As the trees gave way; they saw a

cemetery. Pitar knew what it was because of the big black book his

Foster Mother read from every Sunday. This was a special day.

23


Scott knew Pitar did not speak but never asked why or tried to get

Pitar to speak. On this day however, a little magic happened. It was a

cloudy day with rays of light streaming from the clouds. Gently the

clouds parted and a ray of light shown down on a headstone. Pitar

looked to Scott who was amazed that Pitar was going to speak. Pitar

said, “That's the light from Heaven. The Soul of the body that has died

and is buried; will follow that light to Heaven. That's what happened

to me a long time ago but I didn't let the light take me. My Mother was

crying because I was dying. So I reached out to touch her and when I

did, the light went away.” Pitar and Scott returned home and nothing

else was said.

Pitar entered the back door to witness his Foster Father beating his

Foster Mother. He was very afraid and still, he summoned the courage

to yell “Stop it” with all little Pitar could muster. “So the little fairy

can speak after all,” said the Foster Father and grabbed Pitar by the

front of his coat about to backhand Pitar, while he was still on the

stairs. His Foster Mother grabbed his Foster Father's arm, stopping him

and saying “if you touch him I will kill you!” Pitar went back to being

a mute; frightened to death. “You get rid of this kid or else,” Pitar's

Foster Father said sternly with a menacing look.

24


The next morning Pitar awoke to a quiet house and found some

brown paper grocery bags in the kitchen. He quietly packed his

clothing and toys; three bags in all and started down the three steps to

the back door. His Foster Mother was watching from the kitchen table

and asked, “Where are you going little one?” Pitar couldn't speak but

he understood that he was too small to stop the man from hurting his

Foster Mother, and out of compassion and perhaps guilt, without even

knowing what the word meant, Pitar was willing to leave. His Foster

Mother said, “Where are you going?”

Pitar had no reply, he just struggled with his bags. “Don't leave

Pitar, you are too young to run away and where would you go?” Pitar

managed to hold onto his bags and as he grasped the handle, pushing

the button, and pulling it toward him, a bag burst open. Pitar cried, as

his Foster Mother rushed toward him lifting him up and hugging him.

Crying along with him, his Foster Mother said, “Don't go Pitar, we'll

be okay.” They weren't going to be okay, because the Foster Father had

been looking too; and in a rage kicked and threw Pitar's belongings

and banished him to his room, grabbing his Foster Mother by the hair.

Pitar sat speechless upon his bed. From the other room he heard,

“Clara, I want to you to call that F'g Social Worker and get rid of that

25


little Retard. I am so F'g tired of finding you two playing F'g house.

I mean it, God damn it; if you don't get rid of that little kid, I'm going

to take Sharon and you will never see us again, EVER” he screamed

as the front door to the house slammed, shaking the walls.

Pitar heard nothing but the quiet sobbing of the Foster Mother he had

the greatest compassion for. He exited his bedroom and walked toward

his Foster Mother as she lifted her face to meet his. Pitar gently placed

his hand on her knee and said quietly, “It's okay.” At which point Clara

lifted the not so little Pitar up into her lap and sobbed into his loving

compassionate embrace.

Soon Mr. Edwards appeared. Clara was not to be seen. Sharon

stood abreast from her Father looking quite satisfied with her arms

folded against her chest. The Foster Father spoke with the Social

Worker, signed some papers, and soon, Pitar and Mr. Edwards, were

speeding off to Pitar's next home.

Things were different here. Pitar was supposed to go for a visit but

things went so well that Mr. Edwards said Pitar could stay overnight.

Mr. Edwards said he would call every day and even if Pitar didn't

speak; Mr. Edwards would speak to him. Pitar had to promise to

practice saying yes or no.

26


During the first week Pitar felt at home. Pitar felt it was going to be

okay. Every day Mr. Edwards called and asked, “Are you alright?”

“Yes!” said Pitar. “Are you happy?” “Yes!” again said Pitar. Over the

days, Mr. Edward's phone calls turned into weekly phone calls. Pitar

was already calling his new Foster Mother Ma. She had bought him a

big blue and yellow dump truck. He had two Brothers; Seth and

Edmund. Seth was three years old and Edmund was two. He had a

Sister too; Rachael. She was just a baby. Pitar was much older than

them all, and was happy being their big Brother.

Pitar's new Foster Father was Dad. Dad worked a lot but when he

was home he did not drink that stuff that made people act funny or

violent. Ma always fed Pitar supper first and then Dad. Dad liked a

hamburger, with lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise, on his plate, and coffee.

Sometimes Dad had to work at night and Ma would let Pitar stay up

late. Pitar used to pretend to be asleep in her lap; learning about adults

through the television. There was “Adult Theater,” “The Twilight

Zone,” and in the afternoon Pitar was always fascinated by the

graphics that appeared before the “Edge of Night.” Although to be

honest, Pitar didn't care much for the content.

Pitar was very happy. He had the cellar of the house all to his own

27


except the scary furnace and the washer and dryer. At Christmas he got

a chemistry set. He had started school because he was talking; but later

learned he started a year late. That was okay because he was older than

his classmates. He built models in the cellar on Winter days and was

most proud of his Jesse James, Dracula, and Wolfman.

Across from his house was a stretch of woods. Through the woods

was a dirt road and another small stretch of woods and another

neighborhood. Following the dirt road; between the two stretch of tall

pine trees; always smelling of shed pine needles, would lead you to a

small store. Ma walked their many times with Pitar. So one day; his

Mother asked Pitar if he thought he was responsible enough to take the

dirt road and go to the store for her. Pitar thought that was great!

When Pitar took off he was so very happy. All had nearly been

forgotten except the faces that startled him when falling asleep. He

was too happy though and did not want to tell anyone. As he walked

the dirt road; it was like he had never been alive. He could smell the

dirt, the Pine needles, and even the birds seemed to welcome him. He

would try to imitate their whistles, he would wave, and say “Hi bird,

do you like being in the trees?” “I like being here, I like the trees, I'm

going to the store for my Mother; all by myself.” Pitar very much liked

28


the woods and always would like the woods, and all the creatures of

the forest were and would be his friends. People on the other hand;

well that's another story.

Shock awaited Pitar at the end of the road by the store. There were

four big kids throwing rocks and hitting a very sad looking, old Beagle

dog. He knew it was a Beagle because Snoopy was a Beagle his

Mother told him showing him the difference between animation and

a photograph. Pitar was so angry. He walked right in between the four

big kids and the dog, and said, “Stop it, it's wrong to hurt.” “What are

you going to do about it little punk? You 'gonna fight all of us? If we

want to throw rocks at a stupid dog we will.” “Stupid” yelled Pitar,

Maybe your stupid because you don't know it's wrong. It's wrong to

hurt things. Maybe your stupid.” “Maybe we'll throw rocks at you

instead kid; how'd ya like that? Then that would make you stupid.”

The big kids started laughing long and hard. Pitar spoke up, “Fine

throw rocks at me; you don't scare me; I”ve had worse things happen

to me than some stupid kids who got nothin' better to do than hurt an

animal that can't defend itself. “Look!” said one of the big kid, “ The

dogs so scared he can't move.” “ Why are you doing this? It's wrong

stop it,” commanded Pitar. The big kids made some gestures he had

29


never seen before and said things he had never heard before, but they

left nonetheless.

Pitar went over to the dog and knelt down. “You look so sad Mr.

Beagle. I'm sorry those kids hurt you but they're gone. They wont be

back.” Pitar gently placed his hand to the side of the Beagle's face. Its

face was sad looking with droopy eyes, and droopy ears, and a droopy

mouth. Pitar didn't know Beagles looked like that anyway. Pitar, now

on his knees, gently lifted the Beagles face gently holding the sides of

its head. Pitar looked into the Beagles eyes and kissed him gently on

the bridge of his nose. Then Pitar said, “It's okay Mr. Beagle, you're

okay now. You have no where to go but home.

30

there's no where to go but home

Spiritual

fours pitar

floor uponwhich pitar

years old

home peter olalorall

home peter olalorpitar

home peter olalorway

home peter olalorcomfort

foster home