Mack Daddy(76)

Mack didn’t even try to argue with her assertion of hate. He simply said, “Have a nice day, Torrie.”





Torrie stayed true to her word. Mack and I would pick Jonah up from school every day and bring him back to our place until she got home from work.

As I looked for teaching jobs in the area, I started to think that maybe my time was better spent helping to take care of Jonah so that Mack could concentrate on work and didn’t have to hire help. Even though Jonah was in school most of the day, being out of work made it possible to pick him up in the afternoons. He hated the bus, and we didn’t force him to take it.

Since I’d moved in, we’d noticed that Jonah’s behaviors had worsened. He seemed more withdrawn and anxious, which was strange, since he’d probably never had more attention.

I’d always seen a lot of my younger self in him, but one afternoon, I discovered something that really proved how true that was.

Cleaning his room while he was in school one day, I came across a notebook hidden under his bed. I opened it and found the same two sentences written over and over in Jonah’s handwriting.

I will not kill my dad.

I’m a good person.

I wasn’t sure what to think at first. I was afraid to go to Mack and more afraid of Jonah’s reaction if he found out that I had. I decided that I was going to take Jonah for a ride after school so that we could discuss it before telling his father. I didn’t think Mack would handle this very well. He was such a strong person, but when it came to his son, he worried a lot and often felt helpless.

That afternoon, Jonah sat quietly in the backseat of my RAV4. He was looking out the window as I drove us to a playground near our apartment.

When we arrived, I asked him to join me on a bench that overlooked the wooden jungle gym. The sun was shining into his hazel eyes.

“So, I found something in your room today, and before I show it to you, I want you to know that I have not told your dad. This is just between you and me for now. I also want you to know that you can tell me absolutely anything, and I will never ever judge you. Sometimes, it’s nice to have someone to talk to besides our parents, someone we can open up to. I want to be that person for you, Jonah. Okay?”

Fear filled his eyes as I took his notebook out of my bag.

“I found this notebook in your room.” When he began to tremble, I took his hand in mine. “Everything is going to be fine, but I want you to tell me why you wrote these two sentences repeatedly.”

A tear fell down his cheek. This was painful, but I knew it had to be done.

“It’s okay. Take all the time you need. I only want to help you.”

He finally looked at me and said, “Please don’t tell my dad. Please.”

“Your daddy loves you, Jonah. There is nothing you can ever say, do, or think that will change that.”

After a long silence, he admitted, “I have these scary thoughts. I can’t stop them.” He closed his eyelids tightly to ward off more tears.

“How long have you had them?”

“For a long time.”

“As long as I’ve known you?”

He nodded yes.

“Tell me about them.”

“Sometimes, I can see myself hurting my dad, sometimes it’s my mom, but mostly Dad.”

“You know thoughts are just thoughts, right? They don’t mean anything.”

“I hate them. I’m afraid.” The look of fear on his face was palpable.

A light bulb went off in my mind. This sounded awfully familiar.

“When you get the thoughts…what do you do?”

“I have to go over them in my head over and over until I feel better…until I know I won’t do it. Then, they come back worse, and I have to do the same thing. It never stops.”

“Jonah…I know this is going to sound strange, but I think we were meant to meet, that I was meant to be in your life.”

“Why?”

“This is a lot like the same thing that used to happen to me when I was your age. It’s called OCD.”

“OCD?”

I had to stop myself to think about how to best explain it to him. While I wasn’t a doctor and couldn’t diagnose him, I suspected what Jonah was suffering from was a case of really bad intrusive thoughts, otherwise known as Pure O—the very same thing I suffered with for years. He was performing never-ending mental rituals to ease his fear.

“When I was younger, I used to have visions of stabbing my grandmother. She used to watch me while my mother worked. Deep down, I knew I would never do that, but the thoughts scared me. The more they scared me, the more they would reappear.”

“You never hurt your grandmother?”

“No. No, I didn’t. But you know what? These thoughts…they tend to focus on the people you love the most. So, if you’re having them about your dad, then that’s probably why.”

“How do you make them stop?”

“That’s the thing. You really can’t make them stop. You have to accept that they are just thoughts. As long as they scare you, and as long as you focus on them, they will always be there. But if you recognize them for what they are…just junk that your imagination comes up with…they eventually stop bothering you.”

“What do I do when I get one?”