Sunday Specials: Hostility Issues 2 by Paul Jackson
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Paul Jackson was born in North Georgia way back in the time when dinosaurs ruled the earth. Well, maybe a few years later, but not according to a lot of my cadets.
I am widowed, have an eight year old cat named Wookie, a girl kitten named Thursday, and a little boy kitten named Oliver. All three are rescue cats.
I am a Major in the Confederate States Army, and serve as the Chaplain for several units.
I’ve been doing living history since 1978, and enjoy it immensely! I also portray General Gabriel Rains, the inventor of land mines and torpedoes.
I love to read, write in several genres. My favorite genre is historical fiction, and I have one historical fiction novel published named A Servant’s Story. It sequel, The War Years should come out this year.
I also have a Christian fiction novel named Do I Trust You published, and a YA Fantasy Fiction novel, There’s No Such Truth as ‘Just Because’
Trigger warning: child abuse, sexual assault, anger issues
Today we continue the 5 part series written by Paul Jackson. One part goes live each Sunday for the next five weeks. You can read part 1 here.
“I apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Wilson. Now, can we get on with business?”
“As long as you realize I have lost all respect for you as a professional, I suppose we can move forward.”
“Can you tell me why you are here, Mr. Wilson; and tell me what you expect to get from this therapy?”
“The court didn’t send you my jacket?” Dean asked.
“I can assure you I have read and am familiar with your file, Mr. Wilson. However, I would like to hear in your own words why the court believes you need to see me.”
“Probably some kind of quid pro quo arrangement you have with them, Dr. Spockenfelter,” Dean answered. “Be that as it may, you are supposed to help me resolve what the court believes to be anger issues.”
“Do you consider yourself to have anger issues, Mr. Wilson?”
“I get angry. But it isn’t something I need to worry about.”
“You were convicted of battery for violently beating a man, and you do not consider that a problem?” Dr. Spockenfelter asked. “Are you telling me you were not angry with Mr. Barker?”
“I fully admit I was angry with him, but if I had an anger issue Tyrone Barker would be dead, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“You beat a man almost to death, and you do not think you have a serious anger problem?”
“I didn’t whale on Mr. Barker in a state of anger, Dr. Spockenfelter. I performed that public service because it was the right thing to do.”
“You consider extreme violence a public service?”
“Not all violence. However, when that step is needed for the protection of a kid—yeah, it’s a public service.”
“Perhaps you should explain.”
“Perchy is a very sweet kid. Two or three days a week she would come into my classroom full of enthusiasm and smiles. She was happy, creative, and loved to learn.”
“Perchy Barker. Beloved daughter of Tyrone.”
“Her name is Perchy?
“On the roll, her name is Perchance. The first day of class, before I took attendance, she privately begged me never to call her that, and told me her nickname.”
“I cannot say I blame her for preferring to be called Perchy.”
“Me either, doctor. A name like Perchance would get you beat up at least once a year.”
“What happened with this girl that made you feel the need to attack her father?”
“Perchy preferred to wear skirts or dresses. Told me they made her feel feminine and pretty. But a couple of days a week, she came to school in jeans and a shirt – always a long sleeved shirt. That raised a red flag or two in my mind.”
“Do you often obsess about what one of your female students wear to class?”
“Only when it is coupled with other things. I can list them, and perhaps you would give me a differential on what might come to your mind if you saw the same thing in one of your patients.”
“That sounds reasonable.”
“The days she didn’t wear what she liked, she was always subdued. Usually didn’t greet me with enthusiasm, and spent the day huddled in on herself.”
“Hugged her books to her chest when she was carrying them. Sat with her head down, her shoulders curled inward, with none of her usual effervescence.”
“Can you put her usual behavior and her subdued behavior on a scale for me?”
“Her normal personality was shaken up champagne. Those days she was out of spirits were closer to three week old celery.”
“Quite a change.”
“Then she came to class one day with the whole left side of her face black and blue, and her eye nearly closed.” Dean paused, and appraised Dr. Spockenfelter for a moment. “Tell me, doctor, given what I just told you, what would come to your mind if you saw those signs in one of your patients?”
“I would suspect abuse. Did you ask her about the bruises?”
“I did. She told me she walked into a door in the dark.”
“In my professional opinion, that answer would be suspect.”
“The first thing my students do when they come into class is an exercise I call a Bell Ringer. They write for about ten minutes about anything they want to say.”
“Perchy told me that sometimes her father hit her. She told me it is her fault, and she wishes she wasn’t such a bad person, and asked me what steps she could take to be a more obedient and submissive daughter.”
“And that is why you attacked her father?” Dr. Spockenfelter arranged her notes on her desk. “Do you not think there were any alternative actions you could have taken? Is it not standard procedure in such a case to inform DCFS?”
“Informing DCFS might be standard procedure, but I was much more interested in trying to protect my student. Perchy shouldn’t have to live in fear and take beatings from a bully. Tyrone is the one who ought to be sitting here with you instead of me.”
To be continued…
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