Ten
(Fair warning, this chapter may be triggering to SA victims)

When I was ten years old my parents finally admitted the reason behind moving, and it had everything to do with Tommy.

— — —
I spent the entire school year looking forward to a jam-packed summer full of movies with Raven, visits to the pool, and water guns in the back yard, but none of that came to fruition. The moment the school year ended Mom and Dad started getting a series of phone calls that lasted for hours on end. To the point that any playtime I had with Raven was strictly at her house, not mine.

Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Moreau were happy to oblige but I knew I couldn't interfere with their schedule forever. They had plans of their own and it was wrong of me to intrude on them so easily. Raven on the other hand didn't seem to care, but Raven wasn't the best at reading people. That was my job. While I worked to prevent issues, Raven retaliated when they arose.

For a while, things were fine. Raven, Tommy, and I picked up neighborhood baseball games using garbage cans as bases, or committed war crimes with water guns, but eventually the phone calls Mom and Dad received began to effect Tommy too. There were times he sat beside them at the kitchen table for hours on end listening to some monotone voice ramble on the other end of the line.

It wasn't until men in carefully pressed suits showed up at our house that I knew something serious was going on. For a moment, I thought Tommy was in trouble, but Mom was quick to soothe those worries. She promised me that the strange men in ties were there to help, not hurt. Still, I didn't trust them. They regarded me with half smiles that held no warmth, and often dismissed me from the room as if they were in charge of my own home. At first, it upset me, but neither mom nor dad protested so I took it with a grain of salt.

Unfortunately, my anxieties only worsened with time. One evening dad came home with a series of deconstructed carboard boxes that my heart sink. The last time this happened we'd moved halfway across the country. Heart pounding, I tried to stay calm until mom came home followed shortly by the same strange, suited men.

"Are we moving again?" I asked, fear settling in my chest.

"Just for the summer," Dad replied, hastily pulling out a folded piece of paper. "Here's what you need to pack, okay? We're staying with Grandma and Grandpa."

"But why? What's wrong?" For the life of me, I couldn't get a straight answer. For some reason they were keeping me in the dark.

"We can talk about it later. We need to do this quickly, darling. We have a short window of opportunity. It's to help your brother," Dad insisted. With that, he went back to work and passed over my packing list.

Dutiful as ever, I packed my things as quickly as possible along with Tommy and mom. In the span of two days our car was loaded up with boxes. Raven stood watching from the front yard like she had four years ago, only she didn't run away this time. Instead, she observed us with a wounded expression. While I'd done my best to explain to her what was happening, we were both grasping at straws. I couldn't give her the specifics she so desperately wanted, which meant there was no guarantee we'd be coming back at all.

Before we could pull away from the driveway, I noticed the sheen of tears in Raven's eyes. This was twice now that I had left her for an extended period of time. First at school and now during summer. It wasn't fair and I knew it, but there was nothing I could do to fix it. Rolling down the window, I did the only thing I could. I called out to her, "I'll see you soon! I'll call you!"

After that, dad slowly pulled away from the curb and we began our journey back home. Back to where everything started. Back to the place we ran from.

Under normal circumstances, I would have been excited to see Grandma and Grandpa, but they were withdrawn, tired looking, and weary. As soon as we crossed into the home mom began to talk to them in hushed whispers. The only thing I heard before my dad moved me along was my brother's name. It was the only confirmation I needed that he was somehow involved with what was going on. I had my suspicions when the phone calls began, but now there was no denying it and suddenly I was terrified that Tommy had done something worse than a schoolyard fight.

But much to my continued frustration, I lived in a world without answers until the two strange men returned. It was then that I came to a conclusion. They had something to do with this too. They might even be responsible for everything that was happening. There was the man with dark black hair who always wore navy blue. He made himself at home with ease and slapped down a series of folders on the coffee table. The other man, bald and aging, who always wore black made it quite clear that I wasn't to touch the folders.

So I didn't.

But that didn't keep the clues from falling into place for me. The files that began to pile up alongside jam packed binders on the coffee table indicated something of a serious nature. Criminal even. I'd seen enough glimpses of true crime tv to understand that much. What's more, dad started staying up late, sitting by the door with a bat in his lap. It was frightening, but when a bunch of angry people appeared on the lawn within a week's time, I knew he was trying to protect us.

It wasn't until I peeked through the blinds one morning that I understood what was happening. I recognized a handful of people in the crowd from church. There was Mrs. Carlson who did baking fundraisers and Mr. Ellis who helped lead the choir. They looked angry, far different from how I remembered them.

Mrs. Carlson had a gentle nature about her, with soft lines framing her face, and a voice that sounded like bells. Those lines were hard now, and her voice was tense with rage. Beside her, Mr. Ellis, who'd been a fragile looking man, suddenly possessed a new type of strength that caused the veins in his arms to stand out. It was frightening to say the least.

Then large white vans began to appear with cameras mounted on special stands. Reporters intermixed with angry church folk and spoke frantically into their microphones. At first it was kind of cool. I'd always wondered how the News was made, but soon there were so many vans and people I began to question what their intentions were. Were they here for us? They had to be. Why else would they join angry church members on the front lawn of my grandparents' home.

"What are they doing here? You said the address was confidential!" Dad hissed, pacing around impatiently while on the phone. Tommy raced down the hall to look outside. He paled drastically at the sight of the front lawn. "He's a minor! His identity should be protected! Do your job and get these people off the lawn NOW!"

As soon as the call ended, dad angrily chucked his phone onto the table and ran a hand down his face. There were tears brimming in his eyes and I noticed that his hands were shaking.

"This is because of Pastor Michael, isn't it?" I asked, turning back to the window where Mr. Ellis picked up a rock and hurled it at the glass. The impact caused Tommy to flinch and scramble away. Instead, I stayed put and regarded Mr. Ellis with care. I couldn't help but wonder what made him so angry.

"Get away from the window Thea," Dad encouraged, moving the blinds back into place.

"Isn't it?" I asked again, expecting an answer.

"Thea-." Dad started.

"Why else would we come back here? I was supposed to spend the summer playing with Raven and Tommy but now there's papers everywhere, men in suits, and news reporters on the lawn! I want to go back home but we can't. Why?" My tone came out whinier than I intended it to, but I was tired of being ignored. I wanted answers. I needed an explanation-no-deserved one.

"This isn't about you Thea, okay?" Dad sighed, his eyes settling on my brother as mom made her way into the living room after getting off the phone with Grandma.

"It's okay Dad," Tommy assured, his expression gentle despite the way he shuffled nervously from foot to foot.

"Are you sure? We talked about-." Mom started.

"She's as old as I was when it happened," Tommy countered, a heavy silence settling over the room. "If I'm keeping Thea away from her summer plans she at least deserves to know why. It's only fair."

"Alright. Well, do you want me to explain?" Dad asked, tucking his hands into his pockets. Tommy frowned in thought for a moment before letting out a deep sigh.

"I can tell her," he decided.

"Just, keep the details to a minimum," Dad encouraged, earning a firm nod from my brother. With that, I followed him down the hall to the guest room he and I were staying in. Flopping onto the bed, he gave a contemplative huff before tapping the spot next to him.

"I'll tell you what I can, but you can't tell anyone else all right?" Rolling onto his side, he turned to face me as I made myself comfortable. His blue eyes were dilated in fear, and the shake in his hands had yet to leave. He was scared of something I didn't understand. Taking his hand in my own, I gave it a firm squeeze. A small smile settled on his face at the gesture. "Do you remember when we were first moving and I told you that Pastor Michael was a bad man?"

"I remember." In fact, I remembered it like it was yesterday. That single sentence created a lot of questions for me over the years, and it seemed Tommy knew the answers to them.

"Well, he hurt me, and he hurt a lot of other little boys too," Tommy explained. "He did things that grown ups aren't supposed to do to little kids."

"Like touching you in places they shouldn't?" I asked, my throat growing dry at the thought of such a thing. For a moment, Tommy looked at me in surprise. "Lily says that's what Mr. Moreau does but she's lying. You...you aren't though."

"No," Tommy shook his head, "but the people from church outside think I am. They think I'm trying to ruin Pastor Michael's career."

"Is that why we left in the first place? Because they were angry?" For a brief moment, I recalled a similar incident where Dad had to chase someone off of the lawn. He'd told me it was just a dog, but I knew better. Dad lied because he didn't want me to worry, and I didn't. I was too little to put much thought into why someone would be on our property so late at night.

"Yeah," Tommy nodded, squeezing my hand tightly. "Dad said it was best to move away. To a place the church couldn't find us. Pastor Michael would play the victim and people would keep coming after us if we stayed."

"Why didn't the police do anything? Didn't you tell them what he did to you?"

"Well, the day it happened I learned that sometimes... people who are supposed to do good do really bad things instead, and cops don't like to get involved with the church. So, dad and mom did what they could to keep us safe." Tommy swallowed tightly, tears pricking in his eyes, "but it didn't keep other kids safe."

"They didn't arrest Pastor Michael, so he hurt other people, didn't he?" I determined, a heavy weight settling in my stomach. "Does that mean the guys in suits are lawyers?"

"They're trying to put him in jail. Now that a bunch of other kids are making reports, they want us all to testify. They want me to go to court and tell a bunch of people what happened. I want to do the right thing so he can't hurt anyone else, but..." Tommy's voice trailed off as he looked away from me. His breathes became shorter and quicker as a few stray tears slid down his cheeks. "I'm scared. I don't want everyone to know what happened. People are mean and judgmental. Dad's parents, Papa and Mamaw, already said I was lying. That's why we don't talk to them anymore. They stopped loving me."

"Tommy?" I tried my best to get his attention but whatever emotion he was feeling was too much of a distraction. Sighing, I settled my head on his chest and gave him as big of a hug as I could. "I can go to court with you when it's time. I'll sit front row, so you won't get scared, and if you get nervous or afraid you can just look at me."

"You'd do that for me?" Tommy sniffled.

"I'd do anything for you. You're my big brother and I love you. Nothing they say about you will make me change my mind. I know who you are no matter what the News, Pastor Michael, or the church says." Speaking with finality, I gave him one final firm hug. With a sigh, he held onto me, as a new wave of emotion washed over him. At the time I didn't know that it was relief. Or that before, he'd been crying out of shame. Instead, I thought he was happy. Happy that I loved him, which, in a way, he was.

And just like promised, when Tommy made his way into court that fateful summer, I sat tucked between mom and dad on a painfully uncomfortable wooden bench. They'd told me that if I got uncomfortable at any time, I could wear earplugs they'd brought so I wouldn't have to listen to anything I didn't want to. As a result, I sat with two strange orange foam pieces in my ears for the time being.

Then Tommy was called to the stand. Plucking the ear plugs from my ears, I offered up an encouraging smile. His eyes settled on me, and he returned the smile. I could tell he was terrified by how pale he'd gotten and how a thin layer of sweat glistened on his brow. His eyes flicked over to where Pastor Michael sat leaning back in his chair completely relaxed. I didn't understand how someone being threatened with jail could be so calm unless he'd gotten away with it before.

Then sharks began to roam the water and Tommy looked ready to bolt. He was confronted by a young man with sharp features, a dull grey suit, slicked back hair, a loud booming voice, and dare I say it; sharp teeth. A cheeky grin slid onto his face and with his hands clasped together he began to question Tommy.

The questions started off simple enough, such as time of day, location, the environment, etc., but they soon spiraled into more complex double edged ideas. There were times Tommy struggled to recall the specifics he was being asked to, and each time he fumbled for an answer the shark-man only smiled more. It unnerved me how easily he gained satisfaction from pressuring a fourteen year old boy who was clearly afraid.

"I was alone with him. He said he wanted me to help put the chairs up and run some wires backstage. He said I was the only one small enough to reach some of the outlets in the worship space," Tommy began, swallowing tightly. He took a sip of water from the glass that rested beside him. His eyes settled on me for a moment, and I did my best to comfort him with an encouraging nod. He nodded in return, took a deep breath, sat up straight, and with confidence continued. "There was an outlet I struggled to reach. It was back behind a series of boxes. Pasto Michael said he'd help me reach it so he knelt down behind me and got really close."

"How close?" The lawyer asked.

"Close enough that I could feel almost all of him. He was right on top of me," Tommy informed, his jaw set in determination. Again, he looked at me for encouragement and I smiled ever so slightly.

"You said in your statement that you could felt something hard against your back side. How can you be sure it wasn't something in my client's pocket?" The shark man questioned.

"Because he started to move against me and what I was feeling wasn't super sturdy like a glasses case or something," Tommy insisted. "There's a difference. I can't explain it but I'd know if it was something else."

"And why would he do something like that?"

"I don't know. You'd have to ask him. He said he was going to try and help me reach the outlet," Tommy shrugged.

"Did he do anything else other than trying to help?"

"He wasn't trying to help," Tommy frowned, "but yes, he did. He said I wasn't in the right position, so he grabbed me."

"How did he grab you?"

Tommy went on to describe everything he could to the best of his ability. While he wasn't perfect, I don't think anyone should expect that of a fourteen year old boy up against a shark. Or any of the younger boys who took the stand.

Of course, this went on for a few weeks. And each day we came home from court Tommy was thoroughly exhausted. There were days dad and mom had to carry us inside or shove through crowds of people waiting for us at home. Once inside, Grandma and Grandpa did their best to cheer us up and help us relax. They had a plethora of ice cream and cookies waiting along with warm home cooked meals. We rarely talked while eating and kept the tv turned off to avoid news about the case. When we were home, we left everything else at the courthouse.

Despite this, there were nights Tommy cried himself to sleep from exhaustion, stress, and anxiety. On those nights I would hunker down next to him and do my best to make sure he felt seen. Sometimes I would cry with him. Not because I shared his feelings, but because I was sad that he was having to relive everything. It couldn't be easy for any of the boys involved, but to me they were the bravest people I knew.

Each day we walked into the courthouse with smiles, and I sat patiently listening to what was going on. I only ever plugged my ears with the special orange foam when Ex-Pastor Michael took the stand to speak. I didn't care what he had to say. Listening to him just made me mad, and I couldn't afford to have an outburst for my brother's sake.

Thankfully, while Ex-Pastor Michael's lawyer was a shark, ours were some gnarly fishermen. Dad said they asked all the right questions and pressed all the right buttons to get Michael worked up. There were even times the judge ordered him to calm down or he'd be held in contempt. I didn't know what that meant, but Mom and Dad seemed pretty pleased with it. On those days, when court went well, I'd beg dad to let me call Mr. Moreau so I could talk to Raven. She always asked a bunch of questions, and I answered them as best as I could. Then she'd ask if Tommy was with me, and we'd sit together huddled in the guest room talking over the speaker.

"If I was there, I'd wallop that pastor guy right in the face!" Raven insisted, earning a small laugh from Tommy. "I'm serious. He wouldn't stand a chance!"

"They'd arrest you," Tommy argued, smiling for the first time in ages.

"I'd bust out! All I need is a spoon," Raven assured.

"That would take a lot of work," I noted.

"Well, I'd be bored otherwise. What else is there to do in prison?" Raven asked, genuine curiosity in her voice. "You know what? I'll ask the pastor man when he's in there."

"You're something else," Tommy laughed, shaking his head.

"I've been told I'm a nuisance," Raven boasted.

"A good nuisance," I insisted.

Our conversations were always lighthearted and senseless in nature. It was a well deserved distraction from what was really going on. It was in those moments that things felt normal again, and I was pleased to see that even Tommy couldn't resist Raven's peculiar charm. She had a way of making all situations manageable.

Nevertheless, we endured weeks of examinations and cross examinations in the courtroom until at last, a verdict was to be had. I couldn't wait for the jury to throw Ex-Pastor Michael in jail, but as time ticked by, I grew worried. In all the shows I'd seen or heard of, people went to prison right away. Juries never took long to make decisions, but hours turned into days without a result.

The waiting seemed to be worse for Tommy than anyone else. He barely ate and he certainly didn't sleep. I couldn't blame him though. I too was losing my mind over the matter. Who was holding things up and why? Wasn't it obvious that Ex-Pastor Michael was guilty? Who would defend someone like him?

Then it happened. The judge ordered everyone to reconvene, and suddenly I was back inside the stuffy courtroom. Silence settled over the scene like a thick blanket. Even the jury seemed to sense the gravity of the situation. Only Ex-Pastor Michael was relaxed. He stood with his shoulders back, his eyebrows creased ever so slightly with a tiny smile on his face as if he were an innocent angel.

I'm not exactly sure what the Judge said. It was a lot of words that I didn't really care about. I only wanted to know one thing: was Ex-Pastor Michael guilty or not? Did the Jury betray my brother and all the other little boys, or did they side with them?

Holding my breath, I waited impatiently for the verdict and agitatedly grasped my mother's hand. She spared me a small smile despite the fact that her own worries were seeping through. I could see it in her eyes. She was just as nervous as I was. Dad, bless him, seemed to keep it together. He remained still, pensive even, and that's when I realized he had his hands clasped together in his lap. His lips moved frantically as he muttered a soft spoken prayer.

Tommy looked on with wide eyes, looking like a deer in headlights. He remained stock still, every part of him tensed and ready to run. His fight or flight response had kicked in, and he was stuck in the in between. His breathes shallow, his palms sweaty, and his eyes bolting back and forth between the judge and Ex-Pastor Michael. I wanted to reach out and comfort him, but I didn't get the chance to.

The judge was speaking and he drew every ounce of my attention as he addressed the jury. This was it. The verdict. Letting out a shaky breathe, the seconds that passed felt like years. My ears strained to hear what was being said despite the fact that no one was talking. I suppose my thoughts were just too loud.

At last, I heard it. The only word that mattered.  'Guilty' echoed through the courtroom and in that moment it was the best sound in the whole wide world. The Judge continued to speak, addressing legal formalities, but I'd stopped listening by then.

A collective sigh escaped the room mixed with mumbles of protest from Ex-Pastor Michael's friends. At first I was mad that they were mad. Then reality set in and every part of me wanted to get up and cheer but I knew that was against the rules. Instead, I tensed every muscle in my body and tried desperately not to slip up.

Getting out of the courtroom was difficult enough, but once outside, it was a free for all. The moment I felt the sun on my face I let out the loudest yell I could. We'd done it. Tommy...Tommy had done it. My big brother, the bravest person I knew of had put an evil man in jail. Turning about I tackled him in a hug. The pride I felt for being his little sister was immense. It felt like a balloon was being inflated in my chest with good feelings instead of helium.

"You did it Tommy! You did it!" I laughed, squeezing him even tighter. The next thing I knew, both mom and dad were smothering us in hugs too. It took me a moment to realize that Tommy was crying, but I knew they weren't sad tears. No, these were tears of relief.

Sniffling, he politely asked mom, dad, and I for a bit of space. We happily obliged and I watched as my big brother ventured over to some of the younger boys. He embraced them the way he always embraced me. Whole heartedly and with love. I could only imagine the feelings they were sharing.

With a grin bigger than anything I'd ever seen, one of the boys, Joshua, refused to let go of Tommy. He clung to my brother with more joy in his little body than there was room for. I watched as a series of cameras preyed upon the scene and my heart sank. Couldn't they just leave them all alone? Hadn't they been through enough.

I suppose I was finally understanding how predatory the media was. It didn't sit right with me, but I was ten. What could I do? With a sigh and a bit of patience, I waited with mom and dad for Tommy to return. When he did, he seemed at peace. More relaxed than he had in some time. Whatever closure he'd found, I was happy for him. He deserved it and so did all the other boys.

"Let's go home," Tommy sighed, wiping at the edges of his eyes. "Home, home. I think I'm finished with this place."

"I think I am too," Dad chuckled, settling a hand on Tommy's shoulder. "Let's get going then. I know there's one little girl whose missed the both of you."

And Dad was right. The moment we made it back home to that familiar house of ours, Raven came sprinting outside to greet us. The second Tommy clambered out of the car she smothered him in a hug. Laughing, Tommy lifted her off her feet and spun her around.

"You're the coolest most badass dude in the whole wide world!" Raven exclaimed, pulling back only to hug him yet again.

"Geez, I don't know about that," Tommy blushed, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"Oh shut up and take the compliment," Raven insisted. "You're the bravest kid on this block and you're  the coolest big brother I never had!" 

"I'm honored," Tommy laughed, ruffling her dark hair. "It's good to see you. Believe it or not I missed you. And thank you for the phone calls. They were really helpful."

"Really?" Raven asked, looking at him earnestly.

"Really. Without you and Thea I don't think I would have come out of this in one piece," Tommy sighed, his eyes softening as he looked at both of us. Then his attention was drawn back to the car as dad struggled to unload our boxes.

Raven watched Tommy go, clearly proud of herself for having helped him, and moved so we stood side by side. "Man, I'm glad you guys are back. I really missed you."

"I missed you too," I admitted. "A lot."

"Well, that's okay because according to my calculations, we still have two weeks left before school starts. That means we have all the time in the world to hang out. And I was thinking we could start with a sleepover," Raven decided, grinning from ear to ear.

"I'd like that," I nodded, watching as my dad playfully shoved Tommy, both of them laughing freely for the first time in months. "I'd like that a lot."