Before Bill and Gladys had left, Gladys had said that there was Sausage Ravioli for Damien’s supper and if I was hungry, I could have the leftover meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy in the refrigerator.

I should be ashamed of myself for taking advantage of every opportunity to cause Damien to jump in alarm, but then, it was the least the little monster deserved. I clapped my hands together loudly and asked; “Ready to eat?” and that boy jumped a good foot in the air.

He didn’t speak, only nodded his head once, but never took his eyes off of me, and I also noticed that he was purposefully keeping his backside pointed away from me. The memory of spanking him made my hand tingle again and it dawned on me that he was scared that I was going to spank him again. Little did he know that he was the first and only person I had ever spanked intentionally. If there was any spanking going on around me, it was usually dad, mom or the school principle doing it to me!

When Damien didn’t budge, I smiled wider, pointed toward the kitchen and said, “So, you going to go eat or should we just stand here all night?”

He still didn’t move, so I stepped around him and went into the kitchen without him. I wasn’t surprised when I saw him peaking around the end of the wall into the kitchen.

“BOO!” I said and stomped on the floor.

Damien’s arms flailed as he leapt into the air again, but this time, I gave him a good scare. I could see it in his eyes that he was fighting back the tears.

I knelt down in front of him, “Hey, I’m sorry Damien, I was only playing.”

A word to the wise… NEVER, and I mean, never-never-never, let your guard down around a little beast like Damien! That little twerp smacked me across the face and tore off running upstairs. He hit me so hard that, by the time I got my eyeballs shoved back into my head, he was gone and had barricaded himself in one of the upstairs rooms.

“I’m going to kill him!” I said to myself as I put the can of Sausage Ravioli into the can opener. “I’m going to squeeze his little head like a pimple and use his pants wetting little wiener for a pencil topper!”

While the Sausage Ravioli were heating on the stove, I went to the downstairs bathroom and checked my face. Aside for a slight redness where his hand had made contact, there were no other visible signs.

I figured I better check on the little monster to be sure he hadn’t tied the bed sheets together and climbed out one of the upstairs windows. I slowly crept up the stairs and observed that all of the doors were open, and at the far end of the hallway, the bathroom door was partially closed. I could see that the bathroom light was on and someone was inside.

I continued to the top of the steps and stopped to listen, I could hear Damien in the bathroom and it sounded like he might be on the toilet.

With cat-like stealth, I eased closer to the bathroom door and peeked through the crack between the hinge side of the door and the doorjamb. Damien was sitting on the toilet, but still had his pants on. His face was buried in his hands and he was sobbing intensely. He was also talking to himself while he wept, but it was hard to make out just what he was saying. However, I did pick up on this much, “He’s going to kill me! He’s going to come up here and kill me until I am dead, dead, dead!” Damien shook his head as he howled, “I wish grandma and grandpa would come back right now!”

I didn’t know what to say or what to do but opportunely, my nose detected the aroma of the Sausage Ravioli that I’d left heating on the stove. I slipped back downstairs without Damien having even the slightest inkling that I’d been spying on him.

After removing the Sausage Ravioli from the hot burner, I went back to the foot of the steps and called up, using the sweetest and nicest voice I could, “Damien buddy, I have your Sausage Ravioli ready. Come on down, you don’t want to let them get cold. There’s nothing worse in this world than cold Sausage Ravioli… well except for maybe warm ice cream.”

He didn’t come down, at least not right away and I honestly hadn’t expected him to either. I had lowered the stove to the lowest setting and left his supper hot so that if he did come down, it would be ready for him. He didn’t make an appearance until after I’d taken out the leftovers from the refrigerator. I had heated them up in their microwave when I heard Damien on the steps.

I kept my back to the kitchen doorway and listened. The little bugger still managed to startle me. I didn’t hear him come up behind me, I mean right behind me. He sniffled and I jumped, hit my head on the range hood and spun around.

Rubbing my head and gritting my teeth, I said, “Oh man that hurt!”

Damien had backed up against the cupboards, frozen with fear. I actually felt bad for the beast for a second. “Listen, I’m not mad at you. I promise. I figure that I deserved it for scaring you before and I am sorry for that, ok?”

Damien seemed to melt a little. Still rubbing my head with on hand, I asked him, “Hungry?”

He nodded twice.

“One plate of Sausage Ravioli ala Chef Boyardee coming up!” I said in a bad Italian accent.

Without saying a word, Damien backed out of the kitchen and into the dining room which was on the other side of the peninsula that divided the two rooms. I watched as he backed all the way to the far side of the table, pulled out one of the chairs and sat down.

He didn’t say anything until about half way through dinner. I’d made it a point to sit right beside him when I brought my plate over. At first, I think it unsettled him, but once he started eating, he settled back down again.

I had taken a swig of my 7UP when Damien said something so softly that I had to have him repeat it so that I could hear him, “Please don’t kill me.”

That nearly caused me to choke on my beverage. Before I could respond, I coughed, burped and cleared my throat. “Do you really think I am going to kill you?”

Damien nodded his head as though he was trying to drive his chin through his chest.

I watched him for a minute. I could tell that he was working up his nerve to ask another question and I gave him the time he needed to find his courage.

When he finally did ask, he blurted out the words so fast that it came out like this, “Are go-ank me?”

I chuckled mildly, “Want to run that one by me again?”