Foster Forest (16): As Seen in the Mirror

"I'm telling!"

At a place like Foster Forest, the sound of those words carried throughout the nearby area, and Cody looked up from where he was standing at the "playground" next to Carly. His eyes narrowed as he raised a hand to his brow and looked toward the porch. The little boy, Jackson, was cornered, his back against the wall of the house, and Lizzie had a wild look about her, from what Carly could see.

She'd been at Foster Forest for a grand total of three days. The atmosphere in the house during that time had been strange. Cody had spent two days in his room, not talking to anybody, and Peter seemed quiet after the first night's dinner. She and Felicity were in Feliticy's room when they'd heard a spanking happening on their floor, and that only left Lizzie. The younger girl seemed to have been strangely hateful in the few days that had followed. Quiet and broody, she refused her meals in spite of being made to sit at the table, and she wouldn't speak to anybody. It seemed to Carly that Lizzie had been doing a lot of chores over the past couple of days, and she never seemed to catch a break. She almost felt bad that she'd had some time to sit out here and chat with the fourteen year old for a while instead of helping inside the house.

So far Felicity had kept herself out of trouble, and Carly was relieved. She didn't have to step in and try to mediate or explain her sister, and she didn't have to try to get Felicity to stop before she made matters worse with her big mouth. How many times had Carly stood up to calm Felicity down before she did something she would regret? And now the twelve year-old knew that her older sister harbored a lot of regrets, now that their father was gone, the victim of his own handgun. The thought of it all made Carly shiver. She thought Felicity might still be in shock, since she'd hardly said anything since the night she found their father's body in his office. Carly knew that Felicity would never be the same. Neither of them would be.

"Busybody!" Cody said next to her. "I guess you know what she's like." He glanced at her, giving a shrug of his shoulders. "Betsy. You've met her, right?"

Carly frowned slightly, squinting in the direction of the house as she had done a moment before. "You mean Lizzie? Sure. I met her the day I got here," she said. "She's okay."

"Busybody," Cody grumbled again. "I'm going to go see what's going on and try to keep the kid out of trouble. Whatever he's done, she's gonna make it sound like it's a lot worse than it is, and I'd hate to see him get in trouble for something he didn't do, or something that's not that big a deal," he said with a shrug.

Cody darted off across the yard so quickly that Carly took a moment to realize what was happening. She leaped off the swing and jogged toward him. His movements were stiff, but he was quick, and there was a redness around his ears that she recognized. Carly put her hand on Cody's arm and gave him a gentle tug to pull him back. "What's going on?" she asked with concern. If he was anything like Felicity, there was about to be some serious trouble, and Carly didn't want to have to watch while Cody got his butt spanked. She'd already heard one of Lizzie's, and she didn't want to hear another.

Foster Forest (15): Mistakes They Made

Lizzie glared at the two girls who stood next to their social worker in the front room. Ms Becky seemed to be talking comfortably with the young woman with the black hair, and the smaller of the two girls was looking around the room, her blue eyes wide as she took in everything that the Foster Forest home had to offer. They were pretty, and both girls had the same dark, dark brown hair and blue eyes. The older girl was quite tall; in fact, she was taller than Ms. Becky, and very slender as well. She might be mistaken for a grown women if she had the curves that came with adulthood. The younger girl was petite, not much taller than Lizzie was herself. Her hair was shorter, cropped close to her head in a very grown up style that the ten year old didn't particularly like. The older one's hair fell close to her waist in twin braids.

At once Lizzie didn't like them. For one thing, she didn't like the way that the older girl was dressed. Her skirt was too short and she was wearing a blouse with a neckline that showed off the little swell of her budding breasts. The younger one wouldn't have been so bad except that she kept staring at everything as though she was in awe. Worse, Becky was smiling at both of them from ear to ear and spending time talking to the social worker.

The founder of The Forest had been so irritable lately that Lizzie had just been avoiding her, though that was nothing new. The home without books, however, caused the ten year-old to branch out more and seek other things to do. There was nothing to read since the fire that had consumed all of the books from the library, so she'd been forced to play outside with Jackson on the new playground equipment and even to spend time with Peter cleaning up the kitchen and scrubbing down windowsills and baseboards. It was boring and it was tedious and there were things she would much rather be doing.

It was bad enough that nearly the past week had been spent with Cody in a bad mood because of nightly punishments. Lizzie wasn't supposed to know about that, but she heard the grown ups talking often enough, and she'd caught on. Cody was in big trouble for the book burning, and before that for the stuff that he'd had on his computer, before that got taken away too.

Lizzie hated Cody. She would have been indifferent if he hadn't risked taking his laptop into the library that day while she was reading. The images on the screen were so disgusting, and they reminded her of how much it had hurt. At first Cody scared her, and she'd thought that maybe he would be just like the one guy, the guy who had called her Beth. To make matters worse, Cody was insistent on calling her Betsy, which not only rubbed her the wrong way but it also reminded her of being called Bethy, which was a name reserved for those special occasions when he...

Blinking several times rapidly, Elizabeth brought herself back to the present. She stood up from where she had been sitting at the bottom of the stairs watching and eavesdropping and went into the kitchen. Peter had been through earlier, scrubbing everything in a mad fury, and the usual lock was on the fridge to keep Jackson out. She sighed, bored out of her mind. She couldn't even eat when she was in one of these moods! Lizzie glanced at the clock and saw that it was nearly four o'clock. Dinner would be ready in an hour anyway. In the meantime, there wasn't much to do. Cody was in the Great Room and she was pretty sure she'd seen Jackson follow him in there. She didn't want to be near the two of them, and she wasn't in the mood to go wandering around outside. She only hoped that perhaps Peter was at the bookstore buying the things on her list so that she'd have something new and different to do. One more day of cleaning and she thought she might crack.

"Liz!" Becky called, and Elizabeth felt a flood of relief rush through her as she trotted out into the entrance to see what her guardian wanted. The social worker, she noticed, was gone, leaving only Becky and the two girls, with Cody and Jackson off in the other part of the room. She put on her best smile, beaming up at the older girl and then the younger, the one she thought might be a year or so older than her.

"Hi," she said, turning her attention up to Becky.

"Lizzie, this is Felicity," Becky said, gesturing toward the older girl. Felicity just gave Lizzie a "look" and rolled her eyes away, crossing her arms over her chest. It was obvious that she wasn't in a position to be particularly friendly to the ten year old, and Lizzie just gave her a snotty look right back. "And this is Carly," Becky went on, acting as though nothing had happened.

Foster Forest (14): Arson!

It had been a long week for all of the residents of Foster Forest, but Peter was certain that he and Cody were more exhausted than any of the other residents. Though Becky was showing the signs of strain and Lizzie seemed to be hiding out in her room with a book more and more often, nothing could compare to being on the giving or the receiving end of nightly punishments. Peter knew from his own personal experience that Cody was having a difficult time, but he hadn't imagined what it would be like to be the one wielding the paddle every evening for three nights straight. It had taken it out of him to see Cody blubbering and sobbing like a little boy, and Peter could only imagine that he had once looked the same when his mother had taken him to task at the same age.

The rest of the week had been spent mostly talking about the pornography on Cody's computer. It wasn't the porn itself that Peter minded; he could understand that at Cody's age the kid was going to want to look and see things that stimulated him. He didn't condemn the teenager for that. No, the problem that Peter had was with the dishonesty. Nobody had given Cody access to the Internet, and he had confessed later to using a back door to enter the porn site. Once Peter explained to Cody that he was stealing, it seemed as though everything did a much better job of clicking into place. Though he still wasn't sure that Cody understood the rules or their purpose, he thought they  might be making headway, and therefore the ritualistic nightly punishments hadn't been in vain.

Cody was even beginning to speak up a bit at supper. Though he wasn't laughing and joking with the others, he was beginning to come out of himself. The computer was gone, and Peter felt sure that the lack of socialization on Facebook and other Internet sites had caused the teenager to need more real world stimulation. Whatever the cause, Becky was relaxing and Peter was feeling more and more at home. He'd taken on an extra two shifts at the house now, and he was becoming comfortable spending time playing board games with Jackson or helping Lizzie to clean up the library, which she often left in a mess. Moreover, Peter was beginning to relax generally. Though it still gave him the creeps when a room wasn't spotless, he didn't force the kids to be perfect, and he felt better for it.

As far as Peter was concerned, things were going pretty well at Foster Forest in Cody's third week there. Though it would take time for all of the kids to fully settle in, he thought that there was a good chance that things were going to work out for the best.

Peter was smiling to himself as he worked on cleaning the kitchen counters, scrubbing them down with bleach. Jackson was outside with Becky while she instructed the assembly men where to put the playground equipment she'd purchased, and the last time he'd checked, Elizabeth was in her room reading her most recent book. He hadn't checked on Cody in a while, but he also knew that the computer was plenty out of his reach and Peter felt that there wasn't much trouble the fourteen year-old could cause without it. As far as Peter was concerned, all was right with the world.

Then he smelled smoke.

Foster Forest (13): Caught with His Pants Down

Cody had been spending most of the past week avoiding the grown ups. The sting of humiliation that he had felt initially had been turned on its head, replaced by seething anger. The guy, Mr. Peter, had handled him, and Cody didn't like that. The guy had no right to put his hands on him in any way, and he was sure that he would find a way not to allow that to happen again. And Ms. Becky.... Whoah boy. That had been some experience, hadn't it? First her watching Peter beat his butt with that paddle right there in the kitchen, and then her pulling him across her lap like he was some stupid, wimpy little kid. Like the boy, whatshisname. His anger and humiliation over that incident were so mixed together that they formed some strange stirrings in his belly (and below) that he didn't care to think about too much. Either way, he wasn't going to let it happen again. He had enough things to question as it was, and he didn't need to be thinking about his guardian that way.

Cody didn't want to be anywhere near Peter. That much was for damned sure. He felt as though if he was in the same room with the guy (at least when they weren't sat down for meals) that he'd slug him one. He was fourteen years old: practically an adult! Definitely too old to be treated like a little kid bent over the kitchen chair and having his butt smacked with some stupid kid's paddle. It was stupid and it was humiliating and one day soon he was going to put Peter right back in his place. See how the dude felt if the paddle was being used on him, for a change.

Just the thought made Cody quiver with excitement. Though it didn't give him the same feeling deep in his belly that the thought of being over Becky's knee did, but there was a similar sensation, and it felt good to feel as though he was on top of things, on the top of the world with the guy who had brought him to his lowest. At least that was how Cody saw it.

So instead of spending much time with the grown ups, he'd eaten his supper the past week with his head down, thinking about the things that he'd like to do to them. Once in a while he thought about having Becky turned ass up over his own lap, her skirt up, her panties down, and his hand smacking her butt. That thought made things stir even more, and he would find himself giving Becky a sly grin whenever she glanced at him.

Cody spent most of his time in the library with his computer, or in his room playing with his guitar. He wasn't all that great at playing music yet, but he figured that he would be in time. He'd had to stop lessons when he came to Foster Forest, and that downright sucked. He'd find a way to get them again, even if he had to hack into a pay site to get the information he needed.

He didn't see a lot of the kids, either, though sometimes he had to share the library with the girl (what was her name? Betsy? Beth? He could never quite figure out what she liked to be called). They didn't talk to each other too much, and he figured that she was just as embarrassed that he'd seen her getting it as he would be if she saw him. But he wasn't going to get it again. There was no way he was going to get caught doing anything again. Whenever he wanted to do something he figured he might get in trouble for, he did it in the privacy of his own room, a space he figured they couldn't invade.

Cody didn't mind the girl so much, really. At least she didn't ask him about what had happened that day. The kid, the boy, he seemed to never let up. The first couple of days he had tagged along after Cody asking him constantly what it was like, did he cry, and all sorts of other stupid questions that he wasn't going to answer. The kid was a real pain in the ass, and Cody had been on the verge of telling him so several times when Becky had interceded and taken the kid off somewhere else to play.

At least he had things to do. It occurred to the teenager that the kid didn't know what to do with his time now that there was no television or video games at all in the place. He just seemed to hang around Cody or one of the grown ups all the time, making a nuisance of himself. Cody, on the other hand, could play his guitar or mess with his computer, chatting with Celine or any of his other friends from back home. He missed his parents, and sometimes he used the computer to journal about that as well. It was good to get it out of his system, but there was still an empty hole they had left. This new life was upsetting and confusing, and... painful.

No child ever envisioned themselves in foster care, and now that Cody was here he realized that there were so many things he had taken for granted with his parents: their love for him, their dedication to helping him to make the most out of things. Now he felt as though he was almost always left on his own. After all, if he'd gone off into hiding the way that he was right now, stuck in his room with his laptop and chatting on Facebook, his parents would have tracked him down and at least tried to find out what was going on with him. He didn't understand why Ms. Becky or even Mr. Peter didn't do that now.

Cody sighed and replied to the comment that Celine had posted on his wall. "I don't know when I'll get to see you," he typed. "Hopefully soon. Maybe I can sneak out."

Absently Cody flipped over to the other window that he had open. His eyes scanned the photos of the young women (most of them hardly older than he was, but at least legal) and sighed softly. He'd seen Celine naked the one time that they'd done it, but this was different. There were real curves on these women, and their nipples stood out perkily against their milky skin. Looking at them made his heart beat faster and something begin to stir below the belt. He smiled softly and shifted his computer, along with his weight, to the side, enjoying the pictures and preparing to enjoy them a lot more.

Some days later Cody would be glad that Becky chose that moment to burst into the room. Of course he preferred for her not to burst into his room at all, and if she had to, he would have rathered that she not have a furious expression on her face. But if Becky Thomas had to choose a time to burst into his door without warning, he was definitely glad that she did it before he had his pants open and his dick out. It was embarrassing enough that she had seen him bare when she'd spanked him last week, and horrible that she'd walked in on him when Peter had been paddling his butt. But nothing on earth could compare to being caught in the act that way, and he would be glad that she hadn't decided to show up just a moment later.

Foster Forest (12): TV or Not TV... That is the question...

Becky felt winded. Her hair was hanging in her face, the wispy strands around her ears curling from the humidity, and she was breathing heavily. The workout had done her some good, and in spite of the complaining aches in her body she was sure that she had benefitted from the rough ride around the paddock. It had been the first in quite some time, and she knew that both she and the horse would be better off for it. She felt refreshed, as though she could finally return to her job as administrator at Foster Forest with some peace of mind and a clear head.

It was such a relief to have Cody around! Sure, he wasn't always as responsible as she would like, but he was a teenager, and the way Becky saw it, that was typical. Cody meant that she could get out of the house from time to time and leave him with the younger children, just for an hour or so in order that she could get some of the necessary work around the facility done. It meant that she could spend some time with the horses, who were nearly as much a responsibility as the children, and that she might ultimately be able to dismiss the man she had hired to take care of them.

Becky was ready to head into the Great Room to relieve Cody. She guzzled down a bottle of water, tossed the empty into the recycling and walked out into the main room. None of the children were there, so she began a systematic check. Lizze, as Becky would have expected, was in the library with a book. She looked up at waved, and Becky waved back with an affectionate smile. She did care a great deal for Elizabeth and the boys and it was nice to finally be able to admit that she'd made the right choice in opening the Forest.

Moving on, Becky poked her head into the game room. She hadn't taken the time to remove the television in there, since she had assumed that there would be future children who would be able to watch appropriately, and she couldn't allow Jackson to spoil it for everyone. She felt that she was making real progress with him now, since he was no longer asking for meals in advance of meal time, and he had now lost twenty-five pounds. Only ten more pounds to go according to the doctor's orders, and he would be at a healthy weight.

Foster Forest (11): And the Rules Apply to YOU!

The past eight days had gone by as smoothly as possible. Though he wasn't exactly settling in, Cody was comfortable enough in his new surroundings. He had mostly kept to himself, though he liked the other residents just fine. It seemed that the little girl mostly read in the library, and Cody had left her to it. There were plenty of other places in the home to be alone, even if Becky didn't let him stay the entire time in his room. The kid, the little boy, was okay, but Cody thought he was a bit odd, clinging to Becky all the time and always so tearful. He didn't dislike him, but he didn't want the kid to stick to him like glue either.

There was nobody else at the Forest his own age, and as far as he could tell, nobody shared his interests. Since it was summer, there was no school so that he could get out of the place and meet some different people. The countryside was nice, but there was nothing for him to do, and he felt bored and listless. He needed his friends, missed his parents and most of all, he felt smothered by his new existence. There were too many rules, too many things to remember, and he found himself wondering what would happen if he got a failing grade in school.

Cody was sitting on the porch swing, his legs tucked up under him and his laptop on his lap. AOL instant messenger was open and his fingers were tapping away at the keys while he chatted with his girlfriend back at home. He didn't even know if they were going to be able to stay steady with him living in this place! He could never see her, and chances were that she'd find some other guy who was interested. Somebody local. The thought made him seethe, but he bit the feeling back and didn't say a word to Celine about it. Whatever happened was going to happen and there was no way that he could change it. The old bag had put him here, and he didn't think she was going to change her mind about it at all.

He hadn't told Celine much about the place he was living at. In fact, Cody hadn't thought much about the things he didn't want to say. Walking in the kitchen the first day he'd arrived had been an eye opening experience. He'd never been spanked much growing up, and when he had been it had only been a couple of swats here and there. Nothing like what he'd seen Becky doing to the little girl's bottom when he'd happened along. Both kids had bright red butts as they were standing in the corner afterward, too, and that made Cody nearly sick on his stomach. He couldn't imagine what that would feel like, and he was only glad that he was old enough to be free from the risk of a spanking!

Cody was pretty sure that the little girl had been avoiding him since he'd seen her spanking. The few times he'd walked into the library while she'd been in there reading, she had turned her head away from him and stared out the window until he left. The signals were pretty clear, and although he probably felt as uncomfortable as she did, he figured that it was best to give her the space that she needed. He couldn't imagine how embarrassed he would be if he got a spanking and somebody walked in on it.

Strangely, she seemed to be pretty close to the old man, and he'd been right there with Cody when they'd walked into the kitchen. The little girl appeared to like both him and Becky well enough, though Cody got the sense that she wasn't especially fond of the kid -- the little boy who's name Cody didn't know at all.

The little boy was entirely a different story. Cody thought he might be imagining things, but he thought it seemed as though Becky frequently rebuffed the little guy, and that the dude (good grief, what was his name?) didn't really interact with the kid much at all. What this amounted to was the fact that the little guy was always hanging on Cody, and it felt to the teenager as though he was hardly ever able to get a moment of peace. It amazed him even now that he'd had time to hop on the Internet to talk to his girlfriend.

"When do you get out?" Celine was asking him.

"Never, I guess," he typed. "lol"

Foster Forest (10): Watching

"And I don't want to hear a single sound out of either of you!" Becky said. She deposited Jackson in opposite corner of the kitchen, letting go of his ear and giving it a quick but gentle rub where the flesh had reddened as a result of her hold. She let her hand fall on his back as though patting him. Briefly Becky was able to note that Jackie had lost perhaps five pounds. There was still quite a ways to go, but she felt relief at knowing that her rules were doing their job. She glanced over at Lizzie and pointed her finger at the little girl. "You and I are going to have a very serious talk in just a few minutes," she scolded.

Then, with a heavy sigh, Becky fell down into the chair at the kitchen table, putting her head into her palms and rubbing at her temples. Her head was pounding, and her blood pressure was high. Her hands were trembling slightly, and she lowered them, placing them palm down on the table and taking several deep breaths.

These two had such an ability to make her angry! For the first time in her life, Becky was beginning to understand why her father had snapped at her the way that he had, or why her mother had sent her to her room to wait for her father instead of dealing with discipline herself. There was no way that Becky was going to force the two children in their separate corners to wait for Peter, especially when she knew that Peter had that awful little paddle. There might be a time that behavior warranted the paddle, but she sincerely hoped that it wasn't today.

Peter would arrive in fifteen minutes, right around the time that the newest member of Foster Forest showed up to be settled in. Her anger level as well as her sympathy told her she should deal first with Jackson and Elizabeth, but she didn't want to be caught in the middle of that when Cody showed up, the way it had been when Peter arrived. It was bad enough that Lizzie resented Peter's seeing her draped across Becky's thigh, or worse, that he had scolded her for rubbing her bottom. She didn't need that kind of resentment flying between two more of her youngsters. Lizzie seemed to resent everybody, in some way or another. It was something that Becky just wouldn't understand.

***

Foster Forest (9): Understandings

Jackie Seeber sat on the couch, his legs crossed Indian-style under him. His elbows rested on his knees, which meant that he had to lean forward a little bit. He felt uncomfortable, the fleshy belly pressed between his chest and his legs. He didn't move, nor did he take his eyes off the floor. Nothing made sense any more, and the tears poured down Jackson's cheeks in rivulets while he waited for Ms. Becky to show up and yell at him.

This was all so confusing. The television was off, and if he tried to turn it on, all he would get was a blue screen with some writing on it. Since Jackson didn't read yet, he didn't know what he had to do to make the television work, and he was afraid to ask Ms. Becky. It seemed like lately she yelled every time she saw him. "Tuck your shirt in! No, you may not have dessert! Where are you going? Outside! Play!"

Jackson spent a lot of his time crying. He was bored. There was nothing for him to do, and the entire place was so utterly unfamiliar to him. Why couldn't he watch TV? What was wrong with eating dessert? So what if his shirt was untucked? What was it about Jackson Seeber that offended everybody so? He just didn't understand.

Foster Forest (8): Rump Roast Barbeque

June had rolled smoothly into July, though there seemed to be some resistance from at least one resident of Foster Forest. Lizzie wasn't looking forward to the coming school year, especially considering that nobody had told her what was going to become of her. She'd assumed that Jackson would be sent to the private school that had expelled her, and that she would probably head straight for the nearest public school. While she didn't hate the idea of going to a "normal" school with "normal" students, there was a great deal of apprehension for the little girl, who worried that the minute another group of students sniffed her out as a foster child, she was going to be in trouble again. At least in a public school there was a good chance there would be no recess, and without recess she could (mostly) avoid being bullied.

Lizzie had been avoiding everybody, and Peter had been avoiding Lizzie. Becky and Jackson had spent the last two weeks together a lot, and there was a building undercurrent of irritation coming from the ten year-old little girl, who felt as though she'd been pushed out. She couldn't understand the feelings that were raging within her, or the reasons why Ms. Becky spent so much time with Jackson now, and not with her. If it bothered her, she was trying not to show it.

In the meantime, Jackson was soaking up the attention, and he was more than a little bit smug about it. Although he didn't say anything to Lizzie, and in fact rarely spoke to her at all, he did puff out his chest a little bit whenever he was near her. It didn't bother him that she might have heard his first spanking, and it was obvious that regardless of whether or not he should be humiliated by the experience, he still viewed himself as being "better" than she was. He'd managed to fly beneath the radar so far, so that the adults hadn't noticed what he was doing, or the hurt expression that was visible so often in Lizzie's eyes. And if they did, they thought the source was something else entirely.

Peter tried to be present for Lizzie, but she had given him the cold shoulder since the night that they'd cooked dinner together. Although he was hurt himself, he tried not to show it, or the fact that he felt entirely useless. Jackson was glued to Becky and Lizzie seemed to prefer to be by herself. Needless to say, Peter had plenty of time to paint, and he'd almost finished a large painting of the barn and pasture. Pastoral scenes were his favorite, and he was quite satisfied with the results. He even thought he might gift the painting to Becky, given how much she enjoyed his work. It was enough for him that she had one of his prints on display in the children's home.

It was finally the day that Peter had planned his barbeque. The children had been sent upstairs to take baths and clean up so that they were presentable, and he'd gathered all the food in the kitchen. He wasn't going to start cooking until everybody was present, and in spite of all of the tension in the house, Peter was whistling happily as he arranged things in the kitchen. "So," he said, turning to Becky once had had everything ready. He popped the top on a can of Coke and took a long swig. "What are you planning on doing about school. I think Lizzie's worried about it."

Becky sighed from where she was sitting at the table, wrapping ears of corn in foil so that they could be placed on the grill. "I don't know," she said, her voice soft. "I was thinking about hiring a private tutor to teach them. At least that would cut down on the bullying. With Jackie's weight and Lizzie's bookishness, it just seems like it might work out better. Then I don't have to worry about the pain of either of them getting in trouble at school again."

"You don't sound confident."

"I'm not." Becky shrugged her shoulders and set down the last ear of corn. "It's one more person that I have to bring on. I don't mind hiring somebody -- and paying them to do the job, since it cuts out the need for separate tuition for each of the children -- but it just seems like it might be too much pressure on everybody. And the kids need to get out of the house a bit. Away from here."

Peter shrugged. "Well then that's what field trips are for," he was saying, just when a scream resounded from upstairs, followed by the distinct sound of flesh meeting flesh in what was surely a slap.

"What now?" Becky asked, rolling her eyes as she pushed up out of her chair.

Peter sighed and went to follow her upstairs.

Foster Forest (7): Here We Go Again (Jackson Arrives)

A sob caught in Lizzie's throat as she came back down the stairs. She'd changed her clothes, and although she was still wearing panties, the skirt she wore now wasn't as tight on her backside as the jeans she'd had on before. She still felt hot and sore and bruised, and there was a tingling sensation of intense resentment for Peter Grisson that she couldn't deny or cover up. What made the situation worse for the little ten year old was the fact that she wasn't really sure why she'd gotten the last spanking. He'd grabbed her, and the tall blonde-haired man was frightening as he towered over her. She didn't really know what he'd wanted from her, and she'd panicked, and reacted to her panic.

So many things hurt in those moments. Her bottom was bruised and aching, still throbbing from the spanking. Her heart hurt because she felt that Peter had rejected her and treated her cruelly. She hurt because Becky hadn't said a word to her except to point her upstairs to wash her face and change her clothes. All the anger had drained out of her, and she was left feeling lonely, hurt, and scared. Ms. Becky had said something about somebody coming. It didn't make any sense at all to Lizzie, but as she reached the bottom of the stairs she stood stock still when she heard voices out in the Great Room.

"I'm sorry for bringing you an emergency case, Ms. Thomas," an unfamiliar female voice was saying. "I don't usually deal with the emergencies, but this is a special situation. He was in foster care for eight months while his parents went through the system. He'd only been home for a month when the crash happened. I don't think he really understands what's going on, and he's scared," the soft, caring voice of the woman went on.

Elizabeth closed her eyes. For a moment she allowed herself to simply soak up that tone of voice, the tone that she thought of as love. Peter had been so hard, and Becky hadn't stood in his way. If anything, Lizzie felt as though her female guardian had passed her off as soon as she had found out that another person was going to be coming to the forest. She'd been so happy that her only observation of Lizzie's misery had been to send her to her room to change her clothes and to tell her to wash her face.

That had stung. She'd been sure that at least Ms. Becky would understand the unfairness of the whole thing. She wasn't even totally sure why Peter had spanked her either of the times he'd gotten on her that day. It hurt her feelings that he'd practically launched himself at her with almost no explanation at all. She'd been upset at first, then really scared. While she was mature enough to understand that it was probably her outburst that had gotten her into trouble at his house, she'd been so scared then. Just the memory of school made Elizabeth freeze and feel a surge of distrust. The teachers had condemned her instead of rescuing her, and it was not something she would easily forget. Peter himself elicited a similar distrust, especially after the day they'd spent together.

"We're happy to give him somewhere to stay," Becky was saying when Elizabeth opened her eyes and began to listen again. There were few words spoken after that, and she soon heard the front door open and then close. Once again their "family" was alone, except that there was one more member in it.

Although she'd only been at the Forest a little bit over a month, Lizzie had been under the impression that she would know when another child was being brought into the home. She'd never thought that she'd be given a choice in the matter, but it had also never occurred to her that it might happen so quickly. She'd expected to be prepared to face whatever was coming. This was not a pleasant surprise for the insecure ten year-old.

The little girl sniffled. She was too upset to care if the two adults and the new arrival saw that she was crying. She didn't care if her eyes were puffy and red as she finally finished coming all the way down the stairs. It didn't matter to her at all if they felt bad that they'd left her out of the decision. In fact, she would relish the expression on their faces as they turned to look at her and see just how upset she was. She would feel a great deal of satisfaction as Peter realized how much he'd hurt her, and when Becky understood that she'd really let her down.

Instead, they didn't even turn toward her. Between them there was a chubby little boy who was probably a few years younger than Lizzie. He had brown hair that stuck up and out everywhere in little clumps. Other than that, she couldn't see anything except that he was thickly built, and that it wasn't mostly muscle. Lizzie could see that the boy was crying from the way that his shoulders kept heaving, but it was a silent kind of crying. She could tell, immediately, that he was only looking for attention and sympathy. That had been her game.

Rolling her eyes behind the boy's back, Elizabeth quietly crept up behind the trio and slid her hand into Becky's palm.

The effect was immediate, and not what Lizzie expected. Becky jerked, pulling her hand away as though she'd been stung. It was clear that she hadn't expected Elizabeth to interrupt whatever was going on. Surprised, and hurt, Lizzie also jumped back, her brown eyes widening and moving to scan the faces around her. The little boy's head was still down, and he didn't look at her, though Peter gave her a stern expression. Her first instinct was to take off for the library, but she didn't want him to be angry with her for reading before the chores he'd told her to do were done. He'd made very clear what his expectations were, and she was sure that she wouldn't make the same mistake again, at least not with regards to chores.

"Didn't I tell you to go to your room, Elizabeth?" Becky asked, her voice colder than the little girl expected.

Lizzie felt her mouth go dry, even as fresh tears sprang to her eyes. She took a step back and shook her head from side to side. "N-no ma'am," she said, her voice breaking as the fear caught up with her. She'd already had two spankings that day and suddenly she was certain that a third could not be avoided.

"Peter and I had a talk while we were waiting for Jackson to get here," Becky said, regarding Elizabeth with a gaze that seemed to be studying her very, very carefully. "I don't want to hear another word about you giving him any kind of attitude, young lady. I'm going to be here tonight to get him settled in," she said, indicating the little boy, "but otherwise you know that on my nights off, Peter is fully in charge of you. If he tells you to do something, you are not to argue with him. You are to do what he says. Period. Do you understand me?"

The knot of fear in Lizzie's stomach nearly made her double over. She thought for a moment that she might be sick, and she spun on her heels to rush for the bathroom. Becky's voice called her back. "I'm still talking to you, young lady!" the woman called, and Lizzie stopped short, turning around slowly and nodding her head.

It wasn't obedience that she had a problem with. Elizabeth was having a difficult time settling in, and she was more distant than either of her guardians truly appreciated. But when all was said and done, the distance came from an incredible fear that had been planted within her by a former foster father. He'd been terrible. He had touched her in ways that made her face heat up with the feeling of shame even two years later. He had always told her that it was important to obey him no matter what. And if she didn't, there were consequences. The sick feeling returned, and the little girl finally turned and fled up the stairs and into her bedroom, where she slammed the door behind her and threw herself on the bed, sobbing.

Foster Forest (6): Stress and Strain

Three days had passed since Peter had first suggested to Becky that he was going to take Elizabeth to his house to help him unpack. When he'd gotten up to her room that day and opened the door, the little girl had been curled up on her side, her arm tucked around a book. She had been fast asleep. Because Peter hadn't had the heart to wake her and begin the war all over again, he had allowed her to sleep, had slipped from her room, and had gone on about his business.

As far as Peter was concerned, the three days in between had been hell. Becky told him that the behavior was normal for Elizabeth, but his insides were churning with the desire to change what was "normal" into something a lot better than what he was seeing. Toward him, Elizabeth was surly and unpleasant. She disrespected everything he said and was unmanageable to the point where Becky had allowed Peter three days off to work on getting himself established in his own home. In other words, she had separated them. Toward Becky, Elizabeth was simply disrespectful, and although she obeyed almost everything the young woman told her to do, Peter decided that he'd given Elizabeth a distinct advantage in what appeared to be an ongoing war between them.

His days off had been spent deciding how he was going to handle the "situation" that was Elizabeth. Normal children did chores and weren't allowed to disrespect their parents. As strict as Becky was, Peter decided that she was also too sympathetic to Elizabeth, and he knew that would have to change before there were more than one children in the house. If these were to be difficult kids he couldn't imagine the chaos that would result from such a serious lack of discipline. Elizabeth's attitude would change, and change for the better. Otherwise, what he knew to be Becky's mission at Foster Forest would fail.

On the fourth day Peter arrived at the house in time for breakfast, but not to make it. He still wasn't "on duty" until that evening, but he wanted to have some time to spend with Becky and Elizabeth, since he'd been so hard at work getting the furniture set up and creating his studio in one of the upstairs bedrooms of the house. He was hoping for a good morning, and when he walked into the house and smelled bacon and eggs cooking, a smile spread across his face. He'd let Becky know he'd be here, so he was certain there would be enough.

"Shit!" He heard Becky's voice coming from the kitchen, and broke into a jog as he tried to get there quickly. He wasn't sure how often the woman swore, but given that he saw it as an unattractive trait in a woman, he had made it up in his mind that this very attractive woman didn't swear very often at all. Something serious must be going on to make her curse.

Foster Forest (5): New Rule

The apprehension had been building for several days. Although he couldn't quite identify why he felt that way, Peter Grisson knew that he should treat the apprehension as a warning bell. He'd made a serious decision that would change his life, perhaps forever. He liked kids: that wasn't the problem. And he knew that he was capable of performing the duties that had been outlined to him by Becky Thomas. He even thought he'd make a good father, or a good father "figure" to the kids she was helping. Indeed, he felt that he'd fit in just fine at Foster Forest. He knew and appreciated how Becky Thomas used discipline on her only current charge, and he felt confident that he'd be able to do the same.

In fact, Peter had the little paddle that his mother had handed over to him when he'd finally reached adulthood. He had terrible memories of that paddle, being bent over his mother's lap. It was roughly eight inches long by six inches wide and relatively small. There were several holes drilled into the wood of the paddle, causing it to cut the air resistance when it was used properly. The paddle stung like crazy, and had been known to leave blisters if not used carefully and thoughtfully. Although Peter had never given a spanking in his life, he'd been on the receiving end of the dreadful implement enough times that he would certainly be able to use it appropriately.

Peter took his time on the drive. He was aware of the sense that he might turn back and head for home. He'd hired a house sitter, at least for as long as it took him to determine that he would be able to settle in at the Forest. It hurt a little bit to leave the tidy house behind, but he had forced himself to look forward. Now he was driving down the Interstate, trying to convince himself that the road was familiar. He had already committed it to memory before he'd made the trip the first time, though once he was off the main roads, the territory was still frighteningly foreign. Peter Grisson wasn't a country boy at heart.

The car tires crunched on the gravel as he drove up in front of the big building that was the children's home. He took a deep breath, his blue eyes staring straight ahead as he mentally prepared himself for this step of the journey. He liked Becky Thomas. She was beautiful, though that wasn't saying much: Peter Grisson thought most women were beautiful. However, the young woman had struck something in him that he hadn't expected to find. Although she wasn't the type of woman he normally "ran with," he thought he could come to enjoy her company.

"Okay," Peter said to himself. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. There was nothing more he could do to prepare himself, so now he pushed his way out of the car and went around to the back to grab the two suitcases he'd packed. The rest of his "things" (the things he would need for his art) had been shipped ahead and should already be in his room. He'd set those up later the way that he liked.

Setting the cases down near the front door of the home, Peter raised his hand to knock, then thought better of it. He'd let himself right in the last time, when he'd had less right to be there. Now he was, technically, an employee of the... organization. That was the only way that he could think about it. He squared his shoulders and turned the knob, poking his head around the door to make sure that he wasn't interrupting anything as he had when he'd been a visitor here.

Instead, Becky Thomas was behind the reception desk, and little Miss Moore was nowhere to be found. Breathing a sigh of relief, Peter slipped into the building, leaving his bags on the porch. He'd take them with him into the house he'd chosen to buy from Becky (at cost) later on. He'd want to have a few things in the apartment here, as well. There would be night's he planned to stay over to help take care of the kids, though right not it was only Elizabeth and Peter figured that she and Becky had a regular routine already. They must have a routine that didn't involve him. It would be awkward trying to get settled in, but he'd make it happen.

"Peter," Becky said softly with a genuine smile for him. Her red hair was pulled back into a Dutch braid, and Peter couldn't help but be disappointed that the auburn tresses weren't falling halfway down their back where he felt they belonged. For a moment he just stood, admiring her, and then when she gave him a questioning look he stepped forward, through the front door and up to the desk. He'd already done all the paperwork, most of it in person but some of it had been faxed over. It was all official, and he shouldn't have been nervous, but there was anxiety in the pit of his stomach.

"Where's Elizabeth?" he asked, looking around, surprised that the little girl hadn't come out to greet him.

"She's in the little library we have here, reading a book," Becky said, though there was something in her eyes that told Peter she was disturbed, or angry about something. She opened her mouth as though she was about to say something, but then clamped it shut again and shook her head, biting the words off before they could be spoken.

"Okay..." Peter said slowly. The silence didn't bother him, though he felt that there was some room for her to explain what was going on, and what she needed him to do. He'd planned on getting started right away, and in fact had the impression from Becky that's what she'd wanted, too. When the woman said nothing, but instead seemed to be staring off outside the windows, Peter first turned to see if there was something interesting out there, and then turned back to her. "Becky? What do you need me to do?"

The redhead glanced at the clock on the wall, and then back to Peter. "I have dinner in the oven. Right after dinner I have a meeting that I'm needed at, and I was hoping to take the night off." Since she didn't mention a date, Peter had to assume that's where she was really going, and something inside him cracked, just a little bit.

Peter gave a small nod. "So you need me to stay here. Overnight."

"Yes," Becky said, slowly stepping out from behind the counter. "There's the apartment here that I told you about. I have one and there's a second. Do you want me to... Show you?" she asked.

Peter could sense weariness in the young woman, but he said nothing. Instead he simply nodded his head and allowed himself to be led to the back of the building. Too late, he thought of his bags. He turned as though to go back for them, then shrugged and changed his mind. He could get them later, and they were in front of a door. Becky slid a key into the lock, pushed the door open, and then stood aside to allow him to get a good look at the room.

Stepping inside, Peter was shocked by the size of the main room. It was comfortable, like a full rental apartment. He could see a small kitchen through the living room, and three doors which he imagined to be a bathroom and... "Two bedrooms?" he asked, turning toward the woman who, for now, he thought of as his hostess. He'd need to get over that sooner rather than later.

"Yes," Becky said. "I had this place built under the assumption that eventually there would be workers who came in with children of their own. Or that someone might choose to adopt one of our kids, and might prefer to keep them close, rather than have them go back to a room in the home." The young redhead shrugged her shoulders and Peter nodded to her with understanding.

"Okay," Peter said. "I have a couple of bags, everything else should have been delivered to number 7."

"Yes. And it's all been taken inside. I didn't have anything put away because I didn't know where you would want it, but it's all there. And the house is prepared to be decorated whenever you're ready. I'm sorry I couldn't do more."

Peter smiled and reached out to touch her hand. It was an old habit he'd never quite been able to let go of. "It's fine," he told her, then impulsively bent to kiss her cheek. "Why don't you and Elizabeth get your dinner and I'll unpack my bags in here. I take it that this is... My apartment, for the nights I'm here?" he asked. He'd seen three doors, and assumed that, at least for now, one would belong to each of the workers who worked the home. So far it was only him and Becky, so there were no other apartments needed. The few things he had in his bags could stay here; the rest would stay at number 7. That way he wouldn't have to pack a bag for his night shifts.

Still looking dazed, Becky looked at Peter, her green eyes focusing on him wearily for a long time. "Okay," she said. "You aren't hungry?"

Peter shook his head. "No," he told her. "I already ate. Go ahead and take care of Elizabeth and then we'll... What, change shifts?"

"At six o'clock," Becky said, and drifted away.

***

Foster Forest (4): Meeting Peter

The house had been buzzing with an air of anticipation for the past three days. Becky had observed that Elizabeth was making herself scarce, and every time she'd checked, the ten year-old was in he room curled up with a book. The child had an easy, if anxious, smile for Becky whenever they met, and the conversation was finally beginning to flow easily at mealtimes. Becky knew that she was going to need to work out some chores for Elizabeth during the summer vacation from school. There was a lot to be done and she couldn't allow the little girl to idle. Wasn't that, after all, part of her purpose in building her home?

She'd had a bite. Not an application for a child, of course -- she had suspected that word would get out about Elizabeth's problems in school and that it might take quite some time before social workers were really comfortable sending more children to her. Instead she had received a very interesting application to assist from a very wealthy local man.

If it wasn't for his money, she would have been interested. If it was only for his money, she would have been interested. But he was not only talking about making a sizeable donation to her organization, he was talking about joining her staff.

Foster Forest (3): The Schoolyard Fight

The anger was fading quickly. As it went, it was replaced with a deep sense of dread. This time, she knew what to expect. This time, she couldn't claim that she hadn't known what the rules were. It was clear that she was in trouble, and in some serious trouble at that.

Elizabeth fidgeted. The red was slowly beginning to go out of her face, and she was finally able to unclench her fists. The shaking wouldn't quite subside, and she closed her eyes, blinking back the hot, angry tears of shame that had built up in her eyes. She didn't want them to see her crying -- not any of them! The two sixth graders had already been picked up and sent home, and the other fourth grader had gone back to class. It figured. She'd known that everyone would take the side of the paying kids. Nobody ever sided with a foster kid. That was just how the world worked, and the sooner a foster kid had it all figured out, the better. At least she wouldn't be too hurt when Becky took her home and gave her the spanking she was sure she was in for.

Becky would probably do some yelling, Elizabeth thought as she gripped the hem of her white school blouse in her hands, twisting it back and forth. The anger was quickly giving way to fear as she realized how glad she was that school paddling was no longer popular. Mrs. Laurel had pointed out to all three guilty students that their situation would have been much worse if she was still allowed to apply the paddle to their backsides. Elizabeth thought she was nothing more than a stupid, sadistic old biddy who needed to keep up with the times. Becky could do with having an attitude adjustment for the age, too.

Indignation was easier to accommodate than fear.

It would be a while before Becky arrived. The two sixth graders had parents who lived within ten minutes drive of the school. Becky had to come from nearly an hour away, twice a day. Elizabeth had at least another half hour to sit and contemplate her crime.

***

Foster Forest (2): Breaking

Things at the Forest Home seemed to be settling down. Lizzie was eating, and that kept Becky off her back. Although they rarely spoke to one another except during the mealtimes (and then it felt mandatory to talk to one another since it couldn't be avoided), it seemed that a kind of peace had settled itself over the home.

Underneath it all, however, a tension was bubbling.

Elizabeth was ten years-old: far too young to be expected to think of the needs of others. If she didn't notice that Becky was on edge, it could hardly be considered her fault. Young and narcissistic, she believed that she was the source of the tension, and so avoided Becky all the more.

This was easy enough during the week, when Elizabeth was able to escape the private school where she was being sent on a scholarship. During the week she could gobble two meals without worrying about somebody scolding her for eating too fast. During the week she didn't have to watch as her guardian stalked around the cabin, slamming the doors behind her when she went outside to care for the horses. During the week she didn't have to try to watch out, always wondering what she had done to make the woman so angry.

On the weekends there were many tears, but Becky didn't notice. Elizabeth would watch the woman go back and forth, pacing through the great room, sometimes on her cell phone, her voice raised. More often than not, Lizzie would retreat to her bedroom where she could grab a book and lose herself within the pages. Becky wasn't even trying to talk to her any more. Maybe it was better that way. That way she would never get attached, she couldn't be hurt when it was time for her to move on.

Although it was easier on Lizzie now that Becky no longer expected her to "talk about it," her loneliness was all the more pronounced. She was beginning to slowly run through the young adult novels in the small library at the home, and she knew that soon she'd be down to the mid-grade stories, since the adult books were just too much for her, and besides, she'd discovered that her teachers didn't approve. The books, at least, were her friends, with characters she could relate to. However temporarily, she could lose herself within the pages of the books she read.

Some days Lizzie allowed herself to miss Gran. As best she knew, the old woman was still out there somewhere, living in a nursing home with no idea that her only granddaughter was wasting away in "the system." She missed her grandmother, and it was difficult for her to understand how the woman could forget everything that was important to her. Nobody had ever even tried to explain it to her, and Lizzie had given up trying to understand. It was just stupid anyway!

School was easy though. There was always something going on, and the seat work took enough of her attention to take her mind off of her "situation" as one family had called it. She could spend six hours every day forgetting that she would ultimately have to go home to a huge, cold house with an angry, brooding foster mother.

Even at recesses, Elizabeth took a book with her to the playground. The other students, most of them the children of wealthy families in the area, were prone to poking fun at her for being a scholarship case. At least they didn't know that she was a foster child. That might have been deadly in the long run. With her nose buried in a book, it seemed as though she was practically invisible to anybody who happened to pass her. She liked it that way.

The illusion was shattered, however, when three o'clock rolled around and she had to make the walk to the black Ford waiting for her outside the school. The buses didn't go out far enough to pick her up or take her "home" and that meant that she missed the last half hour of aloneness before and after school.

After the first week they had stopped trying to talk on these journeys. Lizzie sat in the back seat and put her nose in her book, and she never noticed the way that Becky worriedly glanced in the rearview mirror to check on her. She had shut down on the feeling of abandonment that she'd suffered when the last parents had moved and left her behind. If she didn't get close again, then she couldn't get hurt again. That was how Lizzie viewed it.

Every evening Becky told Lizzie to do her homework. And every evening, Lizzie took her homework to her room. None of it was particularly difficult, and she spent the rest of the night after supper and a bath reading one of her books. Becky had even stopped coming in to tuck her into bed.

Elizabeth continually told herself that she wasn't lonely; that she didn't miss her Papa at all. She struggled to convince herself that she had no expectations of being loved in this new place, so if Becky didn't talk to her any more, or tuck her into bed, it didn't mean anything to her. She suppressed the pain and didn't let it show on the outside. If anything, she gave the appearance of being too tough for her own good.

It was that toughness that first got her into real trouble.

***

Foster Forest (1): Setting the Groundwork (Elizabeth's Arrival)

There was a headache brewing behind her eyes like a storm. They always came slowly, and although none had ever progressed to the status of "migraine" she had, in the past, often gone to bed with one of her headaches. When she was a teenager, the headaches were always worse around term time, and she'd struggled for acceptance to university based on her absences from her high school.

Tension, and sometimes exasperation, caused the headaches. Today's headache was caused by the stress of an expected new arrival, the end result of months of frustrating back and forth with the relevant departments. The tug-of-war had finally ended two months ago when an agreement was reached. Rebecca Thomas and her home for unwanted children would fly below the radar. She would be the one asking the questions, and as long as her system worked, nobody would complain.

She had faith that things would work out fine in the end. She'd fought for her organization and for the children she knew would soon follow. She have been able to relax, but she felt a deep sense of disquiet as she considered the manila file folder on her desk.

With one finger, she flipped it open, the fingers of her opposite hand massaging her temples as the headache threatened to spread. Inside the folder was a photograph of a blonde haired little girl along with three sheets of paper. The first was the case worker's notes, which had clearly been kept to a minimum. The second was a report from the child's last doctor's appointment, and the third was the results of her psychological profile. The file told Becky absolutely nothing.

She'd accepted the application robotically, without thinking. It had taken two months for the first caseworker to make an application and she'd begun to worry that she would fail, even after all the work that she had done. Justine Hodges had put her faith in Becky and the Forest Home, and even if the young redhead couldn't understand the case worker's reasoning, she had chosen to extend herself toward Elizabeth Moore.

Now, two weeks after accepting the application, Becky was worried. There was very little information and the case worker had done little to be in contact with Becky. She was agitated and more than a little bit suspicious.

The home existed in order to help children who were considered a "problem" in traditional homes. She had equipped her home to handle the toughest youngsters and desired for it to be a place where they could receive both the discipline and the love that they didn't get from traditional foster placements. Whatever Elizabeth could dish out, Becky could handle. She was confident.

The internal struggle only began when Becky realized that there was nothing at all to suggest that Elizabeth as a "problem child." The child was ten years old and had been through four homes in the past three years (a good track record, in Becky's mind). Elizabeth was healthy according to her most recent check up, and there were no psychological problems to speak of. Even where Becky might have expected trauma, the psychologist reported it strangely absent.

She had to cease to be suspicious of the little girl. The child would be arriving within the next three hours. Becky flipped the file closed and put it back in her cabinet, where she hoped it would multiply into more applications. For now, she had to swallow the feeling that she was being tested, and make sure that everything was ready for the ten year-old.

***