Ann Martin - Claudia And The Terrible Truth

"Then I heard this sound," I said. "A slap." "You heard it?" asked Kristy. "You didn't see anything?" "No, I was still upstairs. But when I went down, the boys were crying and one of Joey's cheeks looked red." 'And Mr. Nicholls?" Kristy asked. "How did he act when he saw that you were still there?" She was gripping a ruler she'd taken from my desk. Her knuckles were white.

"He acted just the way he always acts around me," I said. "Like he's just this nice, regular guy. He offered me a ride home." "Did you take it?" asked Jessi, her eyes wide.

"No way! I ran home, and that's when I realized you were all over at Mal's."" Everybody in the room looked stunned.

"We've never dealt with anything like this before," said Stacey. "What are we going to do?" "That's a good question," said Kristy quietly. She was still gripping the ruler. 'Accusing someone of child abuse is a big deal." She frowned. "But if it's true ..." "I think it is,” I said. "I really do." I didn't know what else to say.

"But you didn't actually see anything," said Stacey. "Right? I mean, he could have — I'm not saying he did, but he could have — smacked the table to make that sound. All we know for sure is that Mr. Nicholls yells a lot. Plus, some parents do spank their children." "His kids are totally afraid of him," added Abby.

"But these things aren't crimes," said Mal.

I understood why my friends were being so Cautious. As Kristy said, child abuse is a very serious accusation. But none of my friends had seen Mr. Nicholls in action. I knew that I, for one, couldn't sit back and wait to see what happened next. I was about to say so when Kristy spoke up.

"Still," she said. "We have to do something. Even if we can't prove that he hits them. We have to tell someone." Thank you, Kristy. "I agree," I said. "I know there's no way I'd go back there to sit unless we tell someone what's going on." Jessi nodded. "Okay," she said. "But who do we tell? The police? A social worker?" I gulped, imagining myself talking to someone official, someone who would question all my observations.

"Maybe you could start out by telling your mom,” Abby suggested. 'After all, she knows Mrs. Nicholls." Mrs. Nicholls. I hadn't even thought of her. She must know what her husband was doing. Why didn't she stop him? Then I had a horrible thought. Maybe he treated her the same way. And maybe she was just as afraid of him as her sons were. "Ohhh,” I sighed, holding my head in my hands. This was way more than I could deal with. "I think I do need to talk to my mom," I said.

"Or you could talk to mine," suggested Kristy. "She's great in an emergency." "My dad might be able to give us some legal advice," put in Mary Anne.

"Thanks, guys," I said. "But I think I really want to talk to my own mom. And soon." "Do you want us to be there while you do it?" asked Kristy. "You can do the talking, but we'll be here, just for support." I looked around the room at my friends. "That would be great," I answered.

Just then, I heard the front door open downstairs. "I bet that's her now," I said. “I’ll go see." I headed downstairs and found my mom in the kitchen, putting a kettle of water on the stove for tea. She almost always has a cup after work.

"Mom, can you come upstairs? We're having a special BSC meeting, and we wanted to talk to you about something." "Sure, honey," she said. She was leafing through a stack of mail, so I don't think she saw my face. If she had, she'd have known how upset I was. "I'll be up as soon as my tea's ready." "Thanks," I said. Back upstairs, my friends and I waited quietly until there was a tap on the door.

"Hi, Mrs. Kishi," said Mary Anne.

"Hello, Mary Anne. Hello, everyone. What's up? Are you looking for book recommendations for your charges? Or is this about the fund-raiser next month? I knew you'd have some good ideas for that." "Do you want to sit down?" asked Kristy, jumping up to offer her the director's chair.

My mom thanked Kristy. She sat down and put her cup of tea on my desk. Then she looked at me, really looked at me. "This is serious, isn't it?" she asked. She reached over to take my hand. "Go on, Claudia," she said. "Tell me." Chapter 10.

I told the entire story again. Mom listened closely, holding my hand. Watching her face, I saw that while she was as upset as the rest of us, she was not exactly surprised. Maybe she'd sensed something from the way Mrs. Nicholls behaved. Or maybe it was just that, working at the library, she'd learned enough about the subject of child abuse to know it could happen anywhere. Maybe she'd even heard of other cases in Stoneybrook.

Her first concern was for me, though. 'Are you okay, sweetie?" she asked. "That must have been so upsetting. And scary.” Once again, I almost started to cry. Instead, I gulped back my tears. It wasn't that I was embarrassed to cry in front of my friends. They would understand. It was just that I wanted to move forward, figure out what we were going to do next.

So I nodded. "I'm okay. But I'm really worried about Joey and Nate. What can we do to help them?" "You've taken the first big step, which was to come to me," said my mom. 'And I'm really glad you did. I know it couldn't have been easy to figure out how to handle this." We all shook our heads.

'And it's not going to be much easier for awhile,” said Mom. "Child abuse is an extremely serious accusation. Even health care professionals have to be very careful about how they handle cases that come into the emergency room or a doctor's office. Still, they are almost always required to report the cases to the authorities — even if they only suspect the children are at risk and don't have solid proof. Right now, we're in that gray area — we have a suspicion of risk, but no real evidence." "Claudia's not making up what she saw and heard," said Abby.

"I'm not saying she is. I know my daughter, and I know she wouldn't lie about a thing like this. But she did not see Mr. Nicholls hit his child." "We all think he probably did, though," said Kristy. "From what we've seen. Remember, guys, how Joey spoke to Andrew that day over at Mal's? I bet he was copying the way his dad acts." “And I remember how nervous the boys were about grass stains and things," added Mal. "I know a lot of boys, and none of them gives a second thought to things like that.” Stacey told Mom how I'd called her when I first started sitting for the Nichollses. "Claudia knew something was wrong from the start,” she said.

My mother nodded. "I believe you,” she said. "But I need to take some time to think about what to do next. I want to talk to a friend of mine who is a social worker. Plus, I want to talk to Mrs. Nicholls." "I know you'll figure something out, Mrs. Kishi," said Kristy. "Claud, are you okay now? I have to go home for dinner." "I'm okay," I said. "Thanks, everybody. We'll talk some more tomorrow." My friends left after we agreed to keep things quiet until Mom decided what to do. My mother stayed behind. She sat next to me on the bed. "Oh, Claudia," she said, rubbing my back. "I'm so sorry. Sometimes I wish I could protect you from all the awful things in the world, the way I could when you were just a baby. But I can't, can I?" I shook my head. "I guess not," I said, thinking once more of the way Nate and Joey had looked the last time I'd seen them. The person who was supposed to be protecting them was hurting them instead.

That's when I started to cry. Mom held me as I sobbed and sobbed.

It's funny. I used to feel closer to Mimi, my grandmother, than to my mom. I could talk to Mimi about anything, and I knew she understood me best. I've missed that closeness more than anyone can imagine. But at that moment, in my room, I felt closer to my mom than I had in a long, long time.

"Mom," I finally asked, once my tears subsided, "why does it happen? How could somebody hit a kid?" "Oh, Claudia," she said, "it's so complicated. Usually, though, if a person hurts someone else it's because he's hurting. Lots of people who hurt their kids were abused themselves when they were younger." "What about Mrs. Nicholls?" I asked. "Why does she stay with him? How could she let him hurt the boys?" "That's even more complicated. It's hard to understand, but I'll tell you one thing for sure. Even though I haven't known her long, I know her well enough to say that she loves the boys. And seeing them hurt is probably torture for her. But for some reason she feels powerless and doesn't know how to make Mr. Nicholls stop." "So what happens next?" I asked, sniffling a little.