Generational violence - driven by forgotten history or is it simply bad seeds.
She thought she knew her child so well. At least, she did up until the day he died. His brains bashed in from an aluminum baseball bat. The same bat, he had used moments earlier to beat his wife. After pitching the bat down in the hallway, he sat down in his recliner and turned on the television. His seven-year-old son crept up behind him and delivered the single lethal blow. The police said he probably hadn't known what hit him.
Now, Elinor Graham, had to reconsider everything. Young Tommy was, for the time being, in her care. His mother was hospitalized in critical condition, no one was sure whether she would live or not. Young Tommy, bruised and scarred from his father's repeated beatings, now had people eyeing him with suspicion. After all, young children just don't kill their parent.
Once again, the police were at her door.
"Mrs. Graham, I need to talk to the boy again."
"Haven't you talked to him enough?"
"We just have a few more questions."
"What more can he tell you? His mother told you everything before she went into the coma. He told you exactly what he did. What more can you want from that child?"
"The child killed his father, ma'am. We need to find out whether he planned to do it or not."
"Yes, the child killed his father. My son. The man who had just brutally beat the boy's mother in front of his eyes. The man who has left scars all over that little boy's body."
"I understand that this is difficult for you ma'am."
"What are you going to do, charge that poor child with murder?"
"No, ma'am. But there might be a manslaughter charge. We don't know yet."
They had talked to Tommy yet again. Elinor had hovered over the boy trying to protect him, while he repeated the same story he had already told a dozen times. All the while, Elinor wondered what had happened to her son.
Tom had grown up in a normal household and family. Father, Mother, two sisters. He had never been beaten. Nor had he ever received more that a swift swat on the behind when he had been a small child, doing something unsafe like reaching for the hot stove.
In school, he had been well liked by his peers and his teachers, rarely getting into any trouble. He had graduated from both high school and college as valedictorian of his class. After college, he had begun and still owned a prosperous computer business. Now. He was dead at thirty.
When Elinor allowed herself to think, the one uncertainty that raged in her mind was, when did he change into the monster that he became. Elinor had wanted to visit Sheri in the hospital and ask the question, but now that the young woman had slipped into a coma that door was closed to her.
Before the week was out, Elinor was being barraged by the media about the story. They were everywhere; calling on the telephone repeatedly and camping on her front yard. Twice a week she had to take Tommy to a psychologist and it was terrible for him. The reporters would beat at the car windows and photograph him hunkered down in the front seat of the car.
Elinor had asked the police if there was not something she could do, but they had told her that it would die down and her best bet was to wait it out. What bothered her the most was the press and the chief district attorney all but called her grandson a murderer.
The police showed up two weeks later with a warrant for the child's arrest. Manslaughter charges. The two cops were extremely apologetic and said they thought the whole thing was ridiculous. Elinor asked and was allowed to take Tommy to the police station herself; but not without an escort.
