back there were three long tables and two desks with a lady at each desk. Doors showed rooms on two sides of the long room.
He sat in a comfortable, padded Spanish-style chair and read through all the papers. He then slowly, and carefully, began filling in the information.
There was a promise of confidentiality. The fee for joining would be thirty dollars and thirty dollars per month for membership. Anyone could resign at any time without penalties.
NAME: Jason Allen McBride
ADDRESS: 286 Main Street, Apartment 2B, Village of Fayette, Ohio, 43521
TELEPHONE: 419-555-8095 - home 419-808-7964 - office
DATE OF BIRTH: November 16, 1979
AGE NOW: 30
HEIGHT: 5’11”
WEIGHT: 187
HAIR: Brown
EYES: Hazel-green
NATIONALITY: Caucasian (Irish, Italian)
OCCUPATION: Accountant (CPA)
EDUCATION: BS in Business and Accounting, Masters in Business and Accounting. Minor in music
LIKES: People just because they’re people, animals, especially horses, reading, walking, hiking, church and music.
DISLIKES: Eating in public alone, bitter cold, overly spicy foods.
I WOULD LIKE TO MEET SOMEONE: who is interested in being friends and take time to see what develops. I’d like someone who is not possessive, who enjoys musicals, attends church and who likes people.
TELL SOMETHING ABOUT YOUR CHILDHOOD: Here he hesitated. How much should, or could, he share? He wanted to forget the earlier part of his childhood. From the age of six he was raised, and loved dearly, by maternal grandparents. His beloved Grandpa died during his second year of college and his Grandma had died just as he graduated from college.
While in his third year he had met Linda Ann Preston. She was a type A personality and loved him for his shyness, gentleness and beautiful baritone voice. They attended the same church and both sang in the choir. During their last year he had proposed and was so pleased that his much loved Grandma had approved of Linda and was looking forward to their wedding.
Jason and Linda were married soon after graduation. He was only sad that his grandparents were not living to rejoice with him.
His Grandma had always said “The truth is best, even if it hurts. If you once tell a lie, you have to tell more to cover up, and soon you’ll forget what you’ve said and get caught.
He finally wrote about his fond memories and how fortunate he was to have had so many wonderful people in his life. His beloved mother had died just before his fifth birthday and his father was killed in an accident when he was six. He didn’t tell his father was in prison, killed during a fight.
Chapter Two
Rory Leigh McBride was a tall, big man, not fat, just muscular. He was a retired Marine Captain and was now a deacon in his church as well as a well decorated police investigator for the county. He had blondish brown hair and green eyes. Everyone was respectful and admired him. Rory’s personality slowly changed so that he received several reprimands in his work which made him furious. He took it out on his family. People began to be suspicious, but none knew what really went on behind the doors at the McBride home.
Mary Margaret Pistolo McBride was a sweet, loving woman five-five, about one hundred ten with long, chestnut hair and hazel eyes. She was a passive person with a slight frame and a beautiful soprano voice. Rory was pleased that she often trembled in fear in his presence. She loved her little boy dearly, but left the room when Rory came in.
Rory was thrilled to have a son to brag about, but was angry when people stated that he looked like his mother. The baby was happy, loving and out-going. He loved music and to have stories read to him
The little boy was strikingly handsome with light brown hair and hazel-green eyes (mostly green) and a beautifully shaped mouth. There was a deep cleft on the upper bow-shaped lip and on his chin. People said he was too pretty to be a boy. He was always laughing, singing and loving people. He especially liked and enjoyed the children in his Sunday Bible class. He would sing all the way home and tell about the wonderful Bible stories. Rory was annoyed with the boy’s exuberant nature and his happy chatter.
* * * * *
One Sunday, when Jason was three, almost four, he rode happily home from church singing and talking as he always did. As they walked in the front door, Rory grabbed him by the back of his shirt screaming at him.
“You were very bad today. I looked through the window on the door and saw you and Troy Mitchum punching each other and laughing. You were not even listening to the lesson.”
“But Daddy, I was listening. We were enjoying the story about the little boy who fought a giant and won because the little boy trusted God and asked for His help.” (David and Goliath)
“Don’t talk back to me. You’ll remember this.” Rory slapped Jason so hard on the back of his head that the little boy fell flat on his face. Rory put a foot on Jason’s back, took off his belt, and proceeded to whip Jason.
The shocked little boy yelled and cried. Rory roared, “Stop that infernal noise. Don’t yell like a baby or you’ll get more licks. I’ll teach you to be like a man.” Jason tried to be quiet even though he hurt and his heart was breaking. He felt he must have done something awfully bad for daddy to treat him like this.
Rory finally stopped, picked Jason up by the back of his shirt and shoved him down the hall toward his room. “Get in your room and be quiet. You’ll get no lunch.”
Jason ran to his room as fast as his chubby little legs could take him. He wanted to slam the door but was afraid to. He fell on his bed and muffled his cries in a pillow.
Mary Margaret silently served her husband a delicious lunch of fried chicken, potato salad, deviled eggs, green beans with small onions and mushrooms, yeast rolls and Jason’s favorite, banana pudding with a thick, nicely-browned meringue. She could not eat because her heart was breaking for her precious baby boy. Rory ate savagely, burped, didn’t say anything to Mary Margaret as he got up from the table. He swaggered into the living room, plopped on the couch, turned on the television to a ball game and went to sleep.
Mary Margaret had grown up in a home where she was taught that the man of the house was the head, in control and no one questioned his decisions or actions. The difference was, her father had been a gentleman who loved and respected his family and was loving and kind. She was appalled at her husband’s treatment of the little boy but did not speak out against him, after all, he was the head of the house.
After Mary Margaret had cleaned the dining room and kitchen, she tiptoed in to discover her husband asleep. She quietly hurried back to the kitchen. Her heart beat so strongly with fear of discovery that she was afraid it could be heard.
She placed a chicken leg, two tablespoons of potato salad, a deviled egg, a big spoon of green beans, a yeast roll
