Play The Field.

When you're younger, usually around the time you're in elementary school, it's almost a given that at one point, you will be given a presentation or mini seminar on the dangers of bullying. Having been to multiple events like this, I've found that there seems to be a message that is refrained at each, no matter what the general purpose or theme of the presentation.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.

Every time I hear this, I can't get over the sheer stupidity of it. Whoever thought up the motto must have been blind to the suffering that mere words can inflict upon a child. Nowadays, it seems that words can even drive a person to suicide.

The words Linda Iero uttered to her husband may not have been enough to drive Frank to suicide, but they nonetheless affected his life, both during that time period and for years to come. The very instance they left her mouth, even at six years old, I could just tell that something was about to change. It seemed that an eternity of silence went by; underneath the blankets, the only sounds that could be heard were Frank's sniffles and our breathing. The quiet lasted so long that I was beginning to believe the fight had never happened; it was simply a part of my imagination, a waking dream of sorts.

And then finally, Frank spoke. His voice was more composed now, yet filled with iron determination to win the fight.

"Linda, you don't mean that," he said softly, a lot quieter than before. "You're drunk, you don't know what you're saying. How about we go... lie down for a bit, and then maybe I'll take you and Frank out for supper?"

"I don't want your fucking charity."

Even to this day, I can't forget how Linda sounded at that point; it seemed like every ounce of positive emotion had been drained from her body, replaced by hatred and anger. She really did sound like... a witch.

"I want you to leave," she continued, and I just knew she was pointing towards the front door. "I don't care if you take Frank, but I want you gone by six. Your things will be in the living room." Although I really had no idea what a divorce was, I was starting to connect the dots. I had a feeling Frank was too; the tears that had almost stopped were now pouring down in full force, although this time they were silent.

"Linda, please don't do this." Frank's voice was faltering in some places and although I found it rather hard to believe, it sounded like he was... crying. I'd never seen my father cry; to be honest, other than my friends, I'd never seen a male cry in my life. Not even Gerard, so it was all very odd.

"Just get out of my house," she answered coldly, and I could hear her quiet footsteps pad away, probably off to the kitchen to prepare herself another drink. Frank and I were still clutching each other tightly; I could just imagine the bruises I was going to have from his tiny fingers digging into my arms.

After another few terrifying moments of dead silence, there was a very quiet knock on Frank's door, followed by the rough dragging noise as it slid open. I stayed very still, stricken by an image I had seen on one of the horror films Mom and Dad had rented once; that of the monster slowly creeping across the room to devour the young child quivering under their covers.

However, Frank's father was certainly no monster and he didn't want to eat us alive. When he gently pulled the blanket up off of our heads, he didn't look scary either... he looked sad. The area around his eyes was reddened and I was momentarily reminded of Linda's eyes nearly all the time. Frank Sr. wasn't holding a bottle of liquor however; all he had was the tears drying on his face and slowly weaving their way into his salt and pepper stubble.

"Frankie, do you and Mikey wanna go back over to his house?" he asked softly, smiling as he reached out to swipe his thumb under each of Frank's eyes.

"Are you gonna come too Daddy?" Both Frank's looked at me, making me feel rather on the spot.

"Y'know, I think I will," he grinned, tousling both of our hair before standing back up. "Do you think your mom would mind if we had a sleepover Mikey?"

"She never cares when Frank stays over... but I don't know what she'll say about you," I said slowly, hoping that I hadn't said anything wrong. To my surprise, his smile got even bigger, although it looked like his eyes were becoming shiny again, the light reflecting off the water threatening to spill from them.

"You're a good kid," he said, scooping both me and Frank up, causing us both to squeal as he carried us out of the room and into the hallway, where I could hear Linda's voice carrying from the living room. I only got a quick glimpse of her before we were out the door, headed towards my house.

It was only across the road, but it may as well have been in another dimension.

*************************************************

My mom was surprised to see us back so soon, but the moment she took a good look at Frank Sr's face, Frank and I were promptly forgotten. After watching him burst into tears once again while my mother tried her hardest to calm him down, I realized that Frank's dad probably didn't want his son to see him in his current state and I managed to convince Frank to come into our very tiny backyard and play. Gerard and Joey were out there as well, huddled off in one corner with a small pile of papers and a lighter they'd stolen from Mom. The smoke kept blowing over towards us, so I was quite thankful when they ran out of ammunition for the fire.

When Mom finally called us in for supper, almost an hour after dark had fallen, I couldn't help but see that our one couch in the living room had been pulled out and made up into a bed. Underneath the blankets was a lump that kept shifting minutely and making quiet snuffling noises.

I guess Mom hadn't opposed to Mr. Iero sleeping over after all.

That was only the start of the matter; Frank and... well, Frank, ended up staying at our house for almost a week, only going back across the street to switch clothes. Even then, they only entered when Linda's car was gone from the driveway.

When seven days had gone by and there was still no change, I was really starting to get worried. Sure, I really loved having Frank at my house; my boredom was completely cured when he was around. However, I thought that Linda would have apologized by now, and the feud would have been repaired. That was what you did when you were in a fight with someone, right? You said sorry.

But once the actual court proceedings started, I realized there wasn't going to be any sorry. Frank and Linda weren't together anymore... they had broken up, like Gerard and his girlfriends had.

But what was going to happen to my Frank? Was he going to leave me?

Waiting for that answer seemed like the longest time of my life.