I'm the Last One That You'll Ever Remember
Chapter 37: Bulregard
After Frank had completed the last few tests, he was discharged from the hospital and was taken home by his parents. Margo Iero tried to make him as comfortable as she could in the backseat by making sure to bring extra blankets, pillows, and his favorite stuffed octopus Bulregard for him. Frank wrapped himself up tight and clung to Bulregard as his parents got into the car, and started the ignition.
The first half of the ride home was spent mostly in silence, with only soft jazz music playing from the stereo. His parents didn’t want to stress him out by pushing for an answer to his whole pregnancy situation, but they also wanted to know if their son was even thinking about it. Would he want to keep the child his kidnapper had forced into him, or not?
The idea of their son having a functional womb was difficult enough for them to accept in the beginning and was even hard to believe now that there was a baby growing in there, but actually having a GRANDBABY was almost too much for them to fathom. Their very first grandchild brought into the world by their only child, who just so happens to be a boy, was created by a man who had kidnapped and brutally raped it’s mother/father…it just couldn’t ever be. How could anyone tell a child that they were created in a moment of rape, fear, and abuse? How would it affect the child?
Mr. and Mrs. Iero reached over at the same time to grab ahold of each other’s hand for support and strength. Their minds were reeling from everything that had happened thus far. Their only child was kidnapped on his fifteenth birthday and was returned to them alive but pregnant by the very man who took him from them. They both wanted their son to go through with the abortion but for their own separate reasons. Frank Sr. didn’t want the baby to be born because it would be a daily reminder of him of how he failed as a parent to protect his son from the ever-preying pedophiles in society, and also because the baby would have the features of a complete stranger that had taken his son and claimed him as his own. He would have to see his son’s rapist every time he looked at his grandchild. Margo didn’t want her son to refuse the abortion because he himself was still just a baby, and was so fragile, and broken at this point from what had happened to him, he’d never be able to raise the child on his own. But alas, it wasn’t up to them, it was up to their shattered child to make the decision independently.
The suspense of not knowing what their son would say to the idea of getting an abortion was quickly tearing at their patience and was making them struggle against allowing their only child a chance to make his first a huge adult decision by himself. In seconds, the battle had Margo buckling under the pressure, resulting in her whipping herself around in her seat to look over her child with fearful eyes. “Frankie, how are feeling back there? Are you comfortable?”
Frank managed a nod beneath a heavy blanket draped over his head. He had his face pressed against his favorite toy, Bulregard.
Margo’s eyes watered at the sight of him so shriveled up among the blankets, she had to take a deep breathe to calm herself before she spoke again. “I hate to ask you this again but…we need to know i-if you want to go through with getting an abortion or not.”
Frank shot back into the depth of his blanket like a turtle would seek safety in its shell. It was very obvious her question had affected him, especially when he let out a whimper before the sniffling began to start up again. Margo stretched herself back to frantically place her hand over his hidden knee to gently sooth his pain. “No, honey shh. It’s okay sweetie, you’re safe now with us.”
Frank Sr. was watching from the rearview mirror as his son quivered in the backseat. “Hey buddy, calm down. Everything’s fine now, we’re taking you home.”
Frank shook his head from beneath the blanket as he fought to calm himself down like his father told him to. “P-Please you guys, I’m begging you, please d-don’t talk about those things right now. Just….j-just let me be, please.”
Mrs. and Mr. Iero looked at each other and shared the same agreeable nod. Sitting back in her seat, Margo retook her husband’s hand and urged herself to give her son some time. “Alright Frankie, if that is what you want. I promise baby, mommy and daddy won’t bring it up again until you are ready to talk about it.”
Frank managed to give his mother a nod, and then the rest of the ride was filled with silence once again. What felt like hours later, they finally made it home and up the driveway of their colonial house. Frank slowly peeked out from his blanket cocoon to see the familiar three car garage, and the flagstone walkway that led to their double cherry red wood front door. His mother’s front garden had been a bountiful display of color and life once upon a time, but were now a neglected faded brown hanging over the stones that shaped its garden bed. His mother’s flowers were like a second baby to her, so it was strange to see them lying there dead from neglect.
Margo got out first to open Frank’s side door and gently guided him out of the car and towards the front door. Frank Sr. stayed behind to gather up the rest of the blankets and such. When the front doors were unlocked and pushed open, a wave of clean linen scented Febreze welcomed them. The familiar smell flowing up into his nostrils made his heart feel warm. In the car he had begun to think that this was all a tormenting nightmare, but now that he smelled that scent he couldn’t resist the small pinch of hope in his heart. Could he really be back?
“Are you okay, baby? You’ve gone pale.” His mother cooed from his side as she lightly placed her palm over his forehead to check his temperature.
Frank turned his head to give her a watery smile and an assuring nod. “Y-Yes mommy, I’m okay. I just…I never thought I’d ever come back here again.”
Margo stifled a sob as she buried her face in her son’s hair and gave him an affectionate kiss.
Together they moved further into the house, but only at a small pace. Frank had so much to see even though nothing had changed since he left. The kitchen was still there, the living room was still there and even the hallways were still there. Nothing had changed, yet for some reason he was certain that it had.
Frank Sr. dropped everything off on the couch in the living room after bolting the front door securely behind him, and then proceeded to followed behind his wife and son up the stairs towards Frank’s bedroom. Once they stepped inside the room, Frank wasn’t able to hold back his emotions any longer. His knees buckled out from under him as he began to cry all over again. His mother caught him in time and helped him to his bed where he curled up into a ball underneath his gray sheets. His father entered the room to see his son being held tightly in his mother’s arms.
With a heavy sigh, Frank Sr. leaned the object he went to go fetch in the master bedroom against his son’s bookcase and dragged his son’s computer chair over to the bed so he could sit and comfort his broken child. Placing his hand over his son’s shaking shoulder, Frank Sr. sought up his diminishing strength to keep himself together for his family because he knew they needed him to be their rock. “It’s going to okay from now on, Frankie, no one is going to come and hurt you again. I want you to take this opportunity to let out all your pain and suffering at the hands of that motherfucker because starting next Monday morning we have some important decisions we need to discuss as a family, do you understand me?”
Margo looked at her husband in shock that he was pushing his son to get himself together so soon just so they could decide on the fate of their first grandchild. She gave him a look that asked him what he was doing but he merely gave her a single nod that told her he got this. Putting her trust in her husband, she sealed her mouth shut and continued to console her unstable child.
“Franklin Anthony Iero Junior, I asked you a question and expect you to answer! Do you understand me?” Frank Sr. asked his son in a stern voice, causing him to uncurl from his ball to stare out at his dad through a blinding ocean of tears. He could only nod in response to his dad’s question.
“Not good enough, Frankie. I can’t hear you. Do YOU understand me?” Frank Sr. tried again with desperation shining through his glassy eyes. He was determined to reach his son’s strength buried deep beneath the weak fragile child that was curled up in front of him.
Frank nodded frantically. “Y-Yes…I understand you, dad.”
“Good. Now, go ahead and cry some more if you need to, because I won’t have that being an excuse to hold off what’s going to happen next week.”
Frank nodded before burying his head in his mom’s shoulder to cry some more. She continued to comfort him until they both fell asleep from all the emotions of the day. Frank Sr. moved his seat back towards a corner of Frank’s bedroom and then grabbed the loaded shot gun that his own paranoia had told him to get from his bedroom, and then sat back down and waited. The chances of the kidnapper coming back for his son wasn’t at all possible, because no criminal was that stupid to take such a risk, but just in case they were dealing with a stupid criminal, Frank Sr. wanted to be ready for him.
The first half of the ride home was spent mostly in silence, with only soft jazz music playing from the stereo. His parents didn’t want to stress him out by pushing for an answer to his whole pregnancy situation, but they also wanted to know if their son was even thinking about it. Would he want to keep the child his kidnapper had forced into him, or not?
The idea of their son having a functional womb was difficult enough for them to accept in the beginning and was even hard to believe now that there was a baby growing in there, but actually having a GRANDBABY was almost too much for them to fathom. Their very first grandchild brought into the world by their only child, who just so happens to be a boy, was created by a man who had kidnapped and brutally raped it’s mother/father…it just couldn’t ever be. How could anyone tell a child that they were created in a moment of rape, fear, and abuse? How would it affect the child?
Mr. and Mrs. Iero reached over at the same time to grab ahold of each other’s hand for support and strength. Their minds were reeling from everything that had happened thus far. Their only child was kidnapped on his fifteenth birthday and was returned to them alive but pregnant by the very man who took him from them. They both wanted their son to go through with the abortion but for their own separate reasons. Frank Sr. didn’t want the baby to be born because it would be a daily reminder of him of how he failed as a parent to protect his son from the ever-preying pedophiles in society, and also because the baby would have the features of a complete stranger that had taken his son and claimed him as his own. He would have to see his son’s rapist every time he looked at his grandchild. Margo didn’t want her son to refuse the abortion because he himself was still just a baby, and was so fragile, and broken at this point from what had happened to him, he’d never be able to raise the child on his own. But alas, it wasn’t up to them, it was up to their shattered child to make the decision independently.
The suspense of not knowing what their son would say to the idea of getting an abortion was quickly tearing at their patience and was making them struggle against allowing their only child a chance to make his first a huge adult decision by himself. In seconds, the battle had Margo buckling under the pressure, resulting in her whipping herself around in her seat to look over her child with fearful eyes. “Frankie, how are feeling back there? Are you comfortable?”
Frank managed a nod beneath a heavy blanket draped over his head. He had his face pressed against his favorite toy, Bulregard.
Margo’s eyes watered at the sight of him so shriveled up among the blankets, she had to take a deep breathe to calm herself before she spoke again. “I hate to ask you this again but…we need to know i-if you want to go through with getting an abortion or not.”
Frank shot back into the depth of his blanket like a turtle would seek safety in its shell. It was very obvious her question had affected him, especially when he let out a whimper before the sniffling began to start up again. Margo stretched herself back to frantically place her hand over his hidden knee to gently sooth his pain. “No, honey shh. It’s okay sweetie, you’re safe now with us.”
Frank Sr. was watching from the rearview mirror as his son quivered in the backseat. “Hey buddy, calm down. Everything’s fine now, we’re taking you home.”
Frank shook his head from beneath the blanket as he fought to calm himself down like his father told him to. “P-Please you guys, I’m begging you, please d-don’t talk about those things right now. Just….j-just let me be, please.”
Mrs. and Mr. Iero looked at each other and shared the same agreeable nod. Sitting back in her seat, Margo retook her husband’s hand and urged herself to give her son some time. “Alright Frankie, if that is what you want. I promise baby, mommy and daddy won’t bring it up again until you are ready to talk about it.”
Frank managed to give his mother a nod, and then the rest of the ride was filled with silence once again. What felt like hours later, they finally made it home and up the driveway of their colonial house. Frank slowly peeked out from his blanket cocoon to see the familiar three car garage, and the flagstone walkway that led to their double cherry red wood front door. His mother’s front garden had been a bountiful display of color and life once upon a time, but were now a neglected faded brown hanging over the stones that shaped its garden bed. His mother’s flowers were like a second baby to her, so it was strange to see them lying there dead from neglect.
Margo got out first to open Frank’s side door and gently guided him out of the car and towards the front door. Frank Sr. stayed behind to gather up the rest of the blankets and such. When the front doors were unlocked and pushed open, a wave of clean linen scented Febreze welcomed them. The familiar smell flowing up into his nostrils made his heart feel warm. In the car he had begun to think that this was all a tormenting nightmare, but now that he smelled that scent he couldn’t resist the small pinch of hope in his heart. Could he really be back?
“Are you okay, baby? You’ve gone pale.” His mother cooed from his side as she lightly placed her palm over his forehead to check his temperature.
Frank turned his head to give her a watery smile and an assuring nod. “Y-Yes mommy, I’m okay. I just…I never thought I’d ever come back here again.”
Margo stifled a sob as she buried her face in her son’s hair and gave him an affectionate kiss.
Together they moved further into the house, but only at a small pace. Frank had so much to see even though nothing had changed since he left. The kitchen was still there, the living room was still there and even the hallways were still there. Nothing had changed, yet for some reason he was certain that it had.
Frank Sr. dropped everything off on the couch in the living room after bolting the front door securely behind him, and then proceeded to followed behind his wife and son up the stairs towards Frank’s bedroom. Once they stepped inside the room, Frank wasn’t able to hold back his emotions any longer. His knees buckled out from under him as he began to cry all over again. His mother caught him in time and helped him to his bed where he curled up into a ball underneath his gray sheets. His father entered the room to see his son being held tightly in his mother’s arms.
With a heavy sigh, Frank Sr. leaned the object he went to go fetch in the master bedroom against his son’s bookcase and dragged his son’s computer chair over to the bed so he could sit and comfort his broken child. Placing his hand over his son’s shaking shoulder, Frank Sr. sought up his diminishing strength to keep himself together for his family because he knew they needed him to be their rock. “It’s going to okay from now on, Frankie, no one is going to come and hurt you again. I want you to take this opportunity to let out all your pain and suffering at the hands of that motherfucker because starting next Monday morning we have some important decisions we need to discuss as a family, do you understand me?”
Margo looked at her husband in shock that he was pushing his son to get himself together so soon just so they could decide on the fate of their first grandchild. She gave him a look that asked him what he was doing but he merely gave her a single nod that told her he got this. Putting her trust in her husband, she sealed her mouth shut and continued to console her unstable child.
“Franklin Anthony Iero Junior, I asked you a question and expect you to answer! Do you understand me?” Frank Sr. asked his son in a stern voice, causing him to uncurl from his ball to stare out at his dad through a blinding ocean of tears. He could only nod in response to his dad’s question.
“Not good enough, Frankie. I can’t hear you. Do YOU understand me?” Frank Sr. tried again with desperation shining through his glassy eyes. He was determined to reach his son’s strength buried deep beneath the weak fragile child that was curled up in front of him.
Frank nodded frantically. “Y-Yes…I understand you, dad.”
“Good. Now, go ahead and cry some more if you need to, because I won’t have that being an excuse to hold off what’s going to happen next week.”
Frank nodded before burying his head in his mom’s shoulder to cry some more. She continued to comfort him until they both fell asleep from all the emotions of the day. Frank Sr. moved his seat back towards a corner of Frank’s bedroom and then grabbed the loaded shot gun that his own paranoia had told him to get from his bedroom, and then sat back down and waited. The chances of the kidnapper coming back for his son wasn’t at all possible, because no criminal was that stupid to take such a risk, but just in case they were dealing with a stupid criminal, Frank Sr. wanted to be ready for him.