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11.9.09 Kimberly Bigelow LOTF Essay Mrs. Laurencot

It was about two o’clock on Monday, November 9th, 2009, and I was dusting the living room. I remember exactly what I had been doing, because I dropped the duster onto our hardwood floor when I received the call. I usually work Monday through Friday as a visiting nurse, but I had been so stressed out lately that I needed a day off, and somebody else took my shift. So far, all I knew was that my son was at boarding school a few months ago, and now he could be anywhere. He was evacuated from his school and his plane failed to stay on radar. The phone rang and I had jumped. “Hello?” “Mrs. Merridew? This is Jon Franklin. I am a naval officer calling to tell you that your son, Jack, has been found, stranded on a Pacific island, safe. He is returning home.” My heart stopped. He had been found, safe. Of all the terrible things that could have happened to him, he was okay. God works miracles sometimes. “Oh my Lord, thank you so much!” I was sobbing by then. “There is more news ma’am. Some of the boys your son was on the island with have reported that your son and a friend are responsible for the malicious treatment of several children, and may even be responsible for the deaths of two. One young man reported that he was literally being hunted by your child and his friend…” I heard nothing after that. Malicious treatment? Death? Hunted? It couldn’t be right. Not my son. Not Jack.

* * * For the next few days all I could do was think about what the officer had told me and I yearned to talk to my son. He was only 12 years old for God’s sake. He couldn’t have committed murder. Jack was a good kid. Throughout his childhood, Jack was well-mannered. He loved school and had good grades. He participated in the school choir and had many friends because of it. He was very intelligent and also bold, but would never bully, let alone hurt, somebody. So how could he have these accusations stacked against him? * * * Jack was flown in on the Friday of that very same week. I waited at the airport along with the police and my own attorney. Though I expected to see his happy, lively face come running in my direction, Jack was different. When he stepped off the plane I could see that his face was smothered in dirt and grime. There was some sort of red and white substance, almost like clay, splotched in places on his cheeks and forehead. When he saw me, he gave a slight smile but his eyes were dark and guilty. Perhaps bad things did happen on that island because of him. I felt sick when I ever thought this to myself. But, as much as it pained me to think possible, stranger things have happened. When we arrived back at the police station, Jack and I were given time to talk privately. We talked for about a half an hour about the men who came to evacuate them, the plane and how it crashed, and the other boys on the island. This led us into what I really wanted to talk about; his accusations. I didn’t want to push it onto him too much that he had been accused of murder because I could tell that this whole incident was traumatic for him, and he already seemed anxious. “Jack, did you get along with the other boys on the island?” I had asked. Well, yeah. I mean we argued a lot but it only got really bad like, twice,” he answered. It got bad twice? Could this be a reference to the two deaths? “What do you mean it got bad?” “Well some of the other kids were being unfair but everything got solved and it was fine.” Got solved? Was I just panicked or did everything he say seem to relate to the two deaths of children? At this point, a man came in and had us leave. I haven’t talked to Jack since. * * * My son, Jack Merridew, was charged with the deaths of two boys, Simon and another boy the kids called Piggy, and attempted murder of many others. The evidence was clear enough, with the wounds and trauma of the other children, and the confessions to murder of another boy, Roger, whom my son was said to have “worked with”. But though all this evidence was obvious, my understanding was still foggy. How could it be //my// son who has done this? Jack and Roger are now both in a juvenile correction facility. They are serving nine months. I have since talked to the parents of the victims, trying to better myself with the knowledge of what their boys were like and why in the world my son would ever want to inflict pain upon them. Their grief made me feel all the more guilty but their words helped in many ways. I know that this whole event has changed my son and not, I believe, for the better. I am yet to understand the thoughts of my boy when he was on that island. Were Simon and Piggy truly that bad to have been killed? Did animal instincts take over when Jack realized he was stranded? Or is my son, though it kills me to say it, really a ferocious killer? I have many questions that still have not been answered and may not ever be. I don’t know why this happened to me or why I didn’t see it coming. And though people say I should have known he would do something like this being that I am his own mother, they should understand that there were no signs to even have the slightest hint. It makes me wonder if any child would do something like Jack did or if he was disturbed in a way that no other child is. So now, for the next nine months, I will simply wait and wonder if I will ever know the truth.