Boys Will Be Boys

Darlene thinks her son is just taking the saying Boys Will Be Boys a little too seriously.

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Boys Will Be Boys

Darlene Stevenson tried hard to hold back her fear as she trudged through the snow; her head bent against the wind as she made her way home from Saint Peter's Cathedral. Usually at peace after her visit to the church, Darlene's heart was heavy. The woman, prematurely gray for her age, regretted her decision to seek solace in her usual retreat. She hadn't found a safe haven that day and in the pit of her stomach she knew that her days of denial were gone.

"We don't know that Bobby has anything to do with the little girl's disappearance!" Darlene said out loud, even though there was no one around to hear her.
"Oh Bobby," she cried, picturing his angel face, "what have you done?"

Darlene nearly fell as a huge gust of wind caught her slight body, knocking her backwards. Feeling strong arms wrap themselves around her waist she nearly screamed, before hearing Father Dave's voice asking her if she were okay.

"I'm fine," Darlene said, backing away from the man. "What are you doing here?"

"I followed you," the priest confessed, gesturing at his car, parked a short distance away. Darlene wasn't surprised she hadn't heard the motor over the sound of the wind. "I know you said that you wanted to walk, but it's nasty out. Please let me take you home."

Darlene opened her mouth to refuse, but then another gust came along, knocking her into the priest again. She nodded her head and allowed him to lead her to the car.

They drove half a block in uncomfortable silence before Darlene broke it. "Have you called the police?"

"No, I haven't." Father Dave said after a short pause. "I'm bound by my oath, but I think you need to tell them what you've told me."

"They'll take him away."

"Darlene, he's a danger, not just to you, but to everyone he comes into contact with."

"You don't know that! He's been better! This is just a...a coincidence!"

"You know in your heart that's not true. He's just gotten better at hiding his behavior."

They pulled up in front of Darlene's apartment. The priest reached out his hand to stop her from opening the door. "Let's pray."

Darlene bent her head, the tears falling as he prayed, hoping that if God was not listening to her, he would at least listen to a man of the cloth. Squeezing the priest's hands, she clung to her last remnant of hope, praying silently to the Virgin Mother to help her son. This was after all, Christmas Eve, the night of miracles. She had to believe.

~ ~ ~

Bobby had always been bad. From the time he could walk, he had given Darlene nothing but grief. At first she blamed his behavior on boyish antics. "Boys will be boys," Darlene had said to Jane Roberts when Bobby, then one and a half, had ripped the head off of little Angela's doll. Darlene, embarrassed, had apologized to Jane, pulling money out of her purse to buy the girl a new doll. When, at the next play date, Bobby had taken a spoon from the girl's bake ware set and pried the new dolls eyes out, Jane had informed Darlene that Bobby was no longer welcome at their place.

Darlene thought the woman was overreacting. Boys didn't play with dolls, they took things apart. So she arranged for Bobby to go to daycare, where he could interact with other boys.

After he was kicked out of the third daycare, Darlene began to worry. She still thought boys will be boys, but Bobby seemed to be taking things to the extreme. If she didn't find a way to divert his attention, he would have a difficult time in life.

Her solution was to buy him a pet. On his second birthday she bought him a hamster. Taking care of another creature, she told her husband, would teach him compassion and responsibility.

Bobby put the hamster in the microwave. He told Darlene the animal was cold and he was trying to warm it up. So she bought him a fish. Bobby wanted to see if it could breathe air.

Darlene gave up on her pet theory. She was pregnant by this time and didn't feel she had the energy to take care of a new baby and keep an eye on Bobby's pets. A few months past Bobby's third birthday, Jenny was born.

At first Darlene and her husband worried that Bobby would accidently hurt the baby, but Bobby showed no interest in her at all, instead focusing on the ants that seemed to be invading their apartment. He took great delight in stomping on the insects and laughing as he screamed, "die" at them. Darlene was disturbed at his obsession with death, but at least they were bugs.

The next few years passed uneventful enough. Most of the kids in the building avoided Bobby, but she blamed that on his being so quiet. He liked to stand around, watching people and she had heard enough talk to know that most of the neighbors considered him creepy. She didn't blame them; deep down inside, she found his behavior disturbing, but there didn't seem to be anything wrong with just watching people. She'd once caught him watching a bird that had fallen from its nest. The thing was dying, flopping around with a broken wing. She had tried to drag Bobby away, but he had pulled himself out of her grip and ran back. He watched until it took its final breath.

Maybe he'll be a doctor, she thought, trying to convince herself that the gleam in his eye at the bird's death had been a tear and not joy at the bird's death.

Then, last Christmas Eve, Darlene had come home from work to discover a foul odor in the air. The children were at the sitters and John at work, so Darlene decided to track down the source. She suspected it came from Bobby's room. She had, over the past week, noticed as his door opened, a disgusting smell, but had kept silent. Bobby, who was seven at this time, liked his privacy. Darlene felt as long as the smell remained in his room, she would tolerate it. Air freshener in hand, Darlene entered her son's domain, thinking that perhaps it was socks, or moldy food he'd taken in there and forgotten about. Finding a box under his bed that seemed to be the cause of the stench, Darlene pulled it out and wrenched open the lid.

Gagging, she dropped the box and ran for the bathroom. Inside the box were the rotten remains of a cat. He'd been slit open and his insides strewn about. Darlene finished emptying her stomach and returned to her son's room.

Even in the bloodied, decayed state, Darlene recognized Tommy, the neighbor's cat. Lucy, Jenny's best friend, had been looking for him for weeks. Horrified, she recalled how Bobby had helped the girls post pictures of the cat up and down the halls of the building.

"He's only seven!" Darlene cried as she told her husband about it, showing him the box. Maggots wriggled in and out of the cat's body. "Where does a seven year old get the idea to do something like this?" Darlene refused to accept that he could have been doing this for a while now, avoiding thinking about the pets he had once had.

When Bobby came home from school he found the belt waiting for him. Afterwards, Bobby was sent to his room to think about what he had done.

They decided to dispose of the cat and not tell the neighbors what their son had done. He was already whispered about and avoided; they didn't want to make it worse. Since it was Christmas Eve, John had another idea of how to punish their son.

They gave all of his presents to Saint Peter's, to benefit the less fortunate. When Bobby woke Christmas morning, he found there were only presents for Jenny. In his stocking was a lump of coal, along with a note telling him that he had made it to the TOP of the naughty list.

Bobby had cried himself to sleep that night. The next morning he woke, different. While his behavior improved over the year, Darlene couldn't help but feel he had grown colder inside.

~ ~ ~

Father Dave stopped praying, releasing Darlene's hands. As she stepped out of the car, the wind let up and the snow seemed to slow. If it weren't for all the police lights in front of the building, she would have thought this nothing more than a peaceful Christmas Eve.

Stepping into the two story brick apartment, Darlene immediately headed to apartment seven. The door stood open as police officers came in and out. The lone occupant, Maggie O'Shaunasey, sat on the couch crying. Darlene went in. Maggie looked up at her neighbor, shook her head and started crying again. Darlene sat next to the woman, taking her hand, waiting silently.

"Rob's helping search the building." Maggie said between sobs. "They haven't found her yet."

The her Mrs. O'Shaunasey was referring to was her daughter Lucy. The last she'd been seen was heading over to the Stevenson's to play. She'd never reached them. At least that was the story Darlene was sticking to. It could be true. She'd never seen the girl and neither had Jenny, but Bobby had been missing during the period of time the girl was supposed to be with them.

"I should have called," Maggie cried. "I should have made sure she was there. Or I should have walked her over myself. What kind of a mother lets a five year old girl go out all alone?" The last part of the question was hard to understand, as the woman was choked by another barrage of tears.

"It's not your fault," Darlene assured her friend. "Everyday our daughters are in and out of our two apartments. You had no reason to think she wasn't there."

No one even knew the little girl was missing until Jenny decided she'd been without her friend for too long and had gone to see if Lucy could play. At first they thought maybe she been sidetracked at one of the other apartments, but as over the course of the next several minutes, knocking on doors, it became apparent that was not the case. The police were called. It was sometime in-between the call to the police and the first officer arriving that Darlene realized her son was nowhere to be found. When he arrived home an hour later, he said he'd been at the park, but his cheeks weren't rosy enough to have been out in the cold for the last several hours.

As the two women sat together, one crying, trying to hold onto hope, the other trying to comfort while fighting her own guilt, there was a commotion in the hall. Rob O' Shaunasey's voice could be heard above the melee.

"WHERE IS SHE? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY DAUGHTER!"

"Rob, I swear, I don't know anything about this?" The second voice sounded desperate as he pleaded with Rob to believe him. Darlene rushed into the hall, recognizing the voice of the apartment's superintendent, Maggie close behind. The man was in handcuffs. Bruises on his face told of a recent beating and judging by the balled up fists of Rob O'Shaunasey and the way the super pulled away, Darlene had no doubt who had put them there.

"Mr. O'Shaunasey," one of the officers said, "let us do our job. If he knows where Lucy is, we'll get it out of him." The officer shoved the man forward, smashing his nose into a wall. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said, pulling the man back. How klutzy of me."

"What's going on?" Maggie asked. "What does he know about Lucy?"

"Her coat was in his apartment." Rob growled.

"I don't know how it got there!"

"He had porn...child porn, in his apartment!"

"Oh my God!" Maggie cried, shoving her fist into her mouth.

"It's not mine!" The old man protested, but no one was listening. The police took him away. Darlene stuck behind for a few to whisper hushed condolences at her neighbors, then home to take care of her own family. Once inside her own apartment she cried, relieved that it appeared Bobby was not responsible.

~ ~ ~

Later that night, after the kids were in bed, Darlene snuggled next to her husband on the couch. They'd both had a couple of glasses of wine and were feeling tired. John had one thing left to do before he could go to bed.

"I'm so glad we can give Bobby his presents this year," Darlene said. "I've been so afraid all day. I feel sorry for the O'Shaunasey's but at least we know it wasn't Bobby."

"I never had any doubt." John said, standing. He stretched, then headed for the door. "I left the presents and costume up on the roof. Maybe you should go to bed, so you can look sleepy and surprised when the kids wake you up."

They had decided that since Bobby had been better this year, as a way to reward him, he would not only get off the naughty list, he would have a chance to see Santa for himself. John had rented a suit and borrowed the key to the roof from the superintendent. He was a relieved he'd had the foresight to obtain the key yesterday, since the super was unavailable tonight. The building was old and each apartment had a working fireplace inside. John intended to make enough noise coming down the chimney that Jenny and Bobby would come running downstairs to see if it were Santa. He'd done a practice run yesterday, while the kids were out, so he knew it was do-able, if not a bit tight. The scratches and bruises would be worth it to see the look of delight on his children's faces.

Bobby lay still, waiting for his parent's to go to bed. When he heard their bedroom door close, he waited a few beats, and then crept silently out of his room. He went into Jenny's room to see if the bitch was asleep. She was. Pulling the pillow from under her head, he put it over her face, pushing down hard, so she couldn't breathe. She struggled, but he was stronger than the brat. After what seemed an eternity, she went limp. He continued pressing down, just to be safe, then removed the pillow. He pulled back the blanket and lifted his sister's nightgown. He'd seen a girl naked once before when the sixteen year old who lived in the apartment across from his hadn't closed her curtains. Jenny didn't look as exciting as she had, but he was sure on the inside she would be beautiful. He couldn't wait to cut her open and see for himself. But first he had other things to do.

Silently, Bobby padded back to his room and retrieved the present from the drawer that he had for Santa. He'd been thinking about this ever since he'd found only coal in his stocking the year before. He had been worried his dad would notice the gun missing when he took it from the closet two days ago, but no one had said a word to him if he had. Walking back down the hall, he stopped outside his parent's door. He didn't hear his dad's snores, but he didn't always make the sounds every night. He could hear his mother's soft breathing. Continuing down the hall, Bobby sat cross legged in front of the fireplace, his father's gun held out as he waited for Santa to bring his goody two shoe sister her presents. He wondered what he would think of the surprise he left for him in the chimney.

Darlene opened the door to her room and glanced into the living room. Bobby was sitting with his back towards her, facing the fireplace. His ears must have picked up on 'Santa' landing on the roof. She smiled, longing to see the look on his face when Santa came down the chimney. After a moment she frowned. There was something 'strange' about the way Bobby was sitting. And where was Jenny? Turning down the hall, she went to go check on her daughter.

John quickly put the Santa suit on. It was cold outside and he wanted to plunge down the chimney and into the warmth of his apartment as quickly as possible. Pulling the grate off the top of the chimney he carefully lowered himself inside, pulling the bag of presents behind him. Slowly, so as not to fall too quickly, he descended. He had no wish to break a leg for his children. About halfway down the chimney he stopped. Something was lodged in the vent, below him. He kicked at it with his foot. It felt like a bag. He kicked again. It was a bag. It felt like a large garbage bag. Was this some kind of a joke? He kicked again, dislodging the bag from whatever was holding it in place. As it jerked out from beneath his feet, John lost his grip and fell the rest of the way, landing on the contents of the bag, which had broken beneath his weight. Struggling to get to his feet, John opened his mouth to scream as he saw the bruised and broken body of five year old Lucy O'Shaunasey, but before he could make any sound he heard the heart wrenching cry of his wife. Looking around he saw Bobby sitting on the floor, a huge grin on his face and a gun in his hand.

"Merry Christmas Santa!" Bobby squealed, his voice sounding nothing like an eight year old boys. "How do you like my present?" Then he pulled the trigger.


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