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From The Lighter Side

June 9, 2012

Working serious child abuse abuse cases can bear down hard on all involved. Too much tragedy can eat you up inside. There is only one remedy for that. Somehow, and in some way, staff has to find some humor in it for balance. A supervisor in a small rural office ended up with an investigator, I’ll call him Riley, who supplied that in spades. Riley was one of those guys that everyone liked to have around. He was always up and always on. He could make you laugh at your mother’s funeral.and put the entire grieving family at ease.He loved to tell stories. This is one of them, written herein as Riley might have told it.

Riley got a report on a notorious nasty fellow, well known to agency, the cops and the community. He had apparently been beating his small children. When an investigator had reason to believe that there might be trouble, the agency could ask for backup from the police. So Riley popped over to the local Sheriff”s office.

“We don’t go there. He’s crazy. I’m not in a mood for a knock drag out battle this morning,” the deputy who was manning the small field office said. “You go out first. If he gives you a hard time, come back, and I will see what I can do.”

“Wait a minute,” Riley said. “You don’t want to confront a crazy man, but it’s fine for me to do it. Is that it?”

“Hey, as far as I know, he hasn’t done a thing. right?”

So Riley caves in and drives almost twenty miles into the far northern reaches of the county and pulls up in the man’s yard. Actually there is no yard. The place is just sitting in trash and weeds. The house is leaning akwardly to one side, A porch post that should have been there to support the roof is gone. There is no paint left at all save a few curled flakes that had not yet fallen off. There is no front door, simply a battered screen. Otherwise the place looked great. Unfortunately there was no sign of life. How sweet it is, he thought. But, Riley had driven a long way. He blows the car horn a few times and waited. Riley was relieved when no one responded. 

But he almost lost his breakfast when the man of the house greeted him from deep within the place. “What the f….. do you want, numb nuts?”

Riley didn’t answer. He was trying to decide if he should run or wet his pants and then run. Finally he speaks up. But his brain is not working quite right. Actually he is thinking of the grass at his place. It too was getting long and needed to be mowed. Yes, he needed to go mow the grass. Right now!

Fortunately he gathers himself. By God, I have a job to do, he thinks. There may be children in trouble here. So he speaks with authority to the man in the house.

“I’m from the government and I am here to help.” he whines.

There is no reponse. Good, Riley says to himself. Now this fellow knows that a sure enough government agent is at his front door and there will be no foolishness.

“Come here, boy!” the man said.

Riley’s spincter muscle tightens up to the point that you couldn’t drive a nail in there. He is considering throwing up, perhaps gaining some sympathy, but short of cramming his fingers down his throat, the bile would not come. So, gripped in fear, he walks to the house like a sheep with his head held low. He climbs the stairs, one by one, like going up to the gallows. At the very top step, four or five feet from the screen, he stops and slowly lifts his eyes.

There in  the shadows of an iny dark room he catches the form of the fellow he has come to see. But what is he cradling in his arms? A baby? Yes, a baby. No you idiot he says to himself, it’s a shotgun! With nothing else to do or say, he giggles a little, silently farts and tries to ask a simple question. Finally the words come.

“Are you Mr. Lawrence Lothario Brisbane?” he stammers.

“Yea! that’s me. What’s it to you?” the man snaps, slowly lowering the shotgun and pointing it casually at Riley’s groin.

“Oh ah, please forgive me, I’m at the wrong house,” Riley says, shuffling papers on his clip board. I need to speak with a Mr. Smith.

“Get the Hell out of here!,” Mr Lawrence Lothorio Bisbane, says.

“Right,” Riley replies, relaxing a bit. “I’m leaving right now to go find Mr. Smith. Thank you for your time.”

Turning his back to walk down the stairs was not fun, but he made it to his car without a problem. He loaded up quickly and gots out of there like the coward in ‘The Red Badge Of Courage.” None the less, Riley was proud of himself. He had never even wet his pants!

TO BE CONTINUED….

From → Child Abuse

2 Comments
  1. Can’t wait to hear the end of this story!

  2. Thanks for the marvelous post! I found your post very insiretteng, you are a excellent author. I actually added your blog to my favorites and will come back soon. I want to encourage you to continue the great work, have a nice daytime!

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