I could talk to her about some things she can do to help keep him calm, from a woman’s perspective.” She’d had lots of training in pediatrics, and now seemed a good time to share some of it.
Judd hunkered over and whispered to her. “Mother’s not in the picture. Died last year. He’s raising the boy alone.”
A sick feeling turned in Rebel’s gut. No child should have to suffer the loss of a parent at that age. She knew exactly what it was like. An ache formed inside her, and she just wanted to reach out, gather the little boy against her and never let go of him. He was an innocent victim and his injuries may have been an attempt to gain his father’s attention.
“Let me check him and listen to his lungs, look at his injuries and then we’ll have the doctor look at him, too.” She set about her tasks, but when she placed the stethoscope on his back he winced and cried out.
Rebel pulled up his shirt to look at his back. “Oh!” She nearly cried out in pain for the boy. “What happened?” She shot a questioning look at the father. “This time.”
“He fell from the high loft in the hay barn,” Judd translated. “He and the other kids were playing a game, and he lost his grip on the rope and fell.”
“You’re kidding, right?” She reached for the boy’s hands. Healing rope burns gave evidence to Pedro’s explanation. With a shake of her head, she took Alejandro’s chin in her hand and gently tilted his face up until he looked at her. He blinked, as if coming back to himself, and rolled the candy around in his mouth until he’d tucked it into one cheek. “You have to be more careful, little man. You hurt yourself too much.”
After Judd had interpreted for the boy, he shrugged. “I…okay,” he said, demonstrating some understanding of English.
“You can hurt yourself doing things like that.”
He only grinned and resumed playing with the candy in his mouth.
“If his mother is…gone, then what does he do during the day? Who takes care of him?”
The father offered an explanation, which was then translated. “He goes to school during the day, then comes home and one of the neighbor kids looks out for him while Pedro is still working. He won’t stay in the daycare.”
Rebel couldn’t help but imagine what she would do if she were closer at hand. Children were at risk for injuries and death if left unsupervised as they didn’t have the capacity to determine risk compared to what the perceived fun would be. She pressed her lips together and tried to resist the primal mothering urge that had begun to surface. If only…
“Pedro says he doesn’t know what to do with him. The boy won’t stay in the house after school, just runs and runs and runs as soon as he’s off the bus. That’s why he’s so skinny.” Judd listened again to Pedro. “He wants to know if there is a medicine or something Duncan can give him to make him behave better.”
“I’m sorry, Pedro. This isn’t a matter of medication, but may be the only way for him to express his grief at the loss of his mother.” Pedro nodded, opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, then pressed his lips firmly together and turned away. Rebel could see the frustration and anger in him. “Children often need to cry in order to get those feelings they don’t understand out of them.”
Pedro pointed at his son, anger blazing in his eyes. “No cry. He no cry.” He launched into another explanation to Judd.
“When Pedro’s wife died, it was because she was an alcoholic. He doesn’t want Alejandro to cry for a woman who chose the bottle over them.”
So misunderstood. Grief had grabbed this family by the throat and hadn’t let go. They needed to be in counseling, but how to suggest it to a man still entrenched in the angry phase of grief was beyond her comprehension.
“Duncan, I need your help.” Though she spoke to him, she busied herself with taking Alejandro’s blood pressure.
“What’s up?” Duncan stepped closer and nodded to Pedro, spoke a few words of greeting.
“Kid’s got a case of Superman syndrome.”
“A what?”
“Superman. Thinks he’s invincible, and is into serious risk taking.”
“What is he, six?” Duncan glanced at the kid and frowned.
“Still thinks he’s Superman. Just needs a cape.” After relaying the list of injuries his father had reported and the escalation of them, she turned his hands over to show the rope burns to Duncan.
“So what’s really going on?” That was the question. There was always something behind a person’s behavior, a motivation, even if they were six years old and didn’t know it. She explained the loss of his mother and the emotionally distant father to Duncan as quickly as possible.
He sat with a sigh and examined Alejandro, speaking in Spanish. Pedro seemed to relax a little as he listened to Duncan. Then Pedro stiffened. “No.” He grabbed Alejandro by the hand and began to walk away. Rebel let out a gasp of distress and looked at Duncan.
“You can’t let him just walk away like that. We have to do something more.” There was always something to be done. Alejandro turned to look over his shoulder at her and her heart nearly broke at his big brown eyes beseeching her to do something.
“Uno momento, Pedro,” Duncan said, and the man stopped, but his leg twitched in his eagerness to get away from the situation. Some men couldn’t handle emotion and either ran from it or covered it with anger. Pedro was obviously a runner, so his son came by it naturally. Duncan motioned for the man to return the boy to the chair and spoke to him in Spanish.
Fortunately, the man responded, nodding now and then. Rebel gingerly lifted the boy’s shirt to have a better look at the wounds he’d sustained in the fall while Judd translated. “It’s okay, little man. I’m going to take care of you, don’t worry about anything.” She applied a non-sting wound spray to cleanse the open areas on his back and then a soothing ointment to prevent infection. The wounds on his hands were nearly healed, but she was sure they had hurt like crazy.
Responding to her gentle touch, the boy looked at her, hesitation in his eyes, as if he’d not known much mothering in his short life. He reached out to touch a stray lock of her hair. With careful focus, he took the strand and wrapped it around his finger. A curious expression covered his face, as if he hadn’t ever seen such a thing, and he probably hadn’t. Then he released it and it sprang back against her shoulder, and he grinned.
“Nice to meet you, Alejandro. I’m Rebel.” She shook his hand and noted he had a pretty strong grip. But she could tell he was definitely underweight.
He bobbed his head, but didn’t take his eyes off of her hair. “Buenas dias, señorita.”
Duncan patted Pedro on his shoulder. The man still stood stiffly with his arms crossed, his back to the child, but at least he hadn’t left.
“What did you say to him?”
“I told him he and the boy both needed some support. We’ll pay for it, but we’d really like him to go.” Duncan cast a glance at Pedro. “He’s not happy about it, but says he will try. At least it’s a start.”
He
