4. Brooke
brOOKE
Home visits were never easy, no matter how many times you’ve done them. Most people think they are hard on the families, and they are. Having a social worker show up at your front door, asking about your parenting and the state of your home, feels invasive, even when you have nothing to hide.
Everyone seems to sit a little straighter, and they choose their words a little more carefully, hoping it can make the difference between losing their kids and keeping them.
What people failed to realize was that the visits were hard on us, too.
We weren’t walking into homes looking for reasons to tear families apart. Most of the time, we were hoping to find the opposite, and that the concerns sent to us were wrong. We just needed reassurance that a child was safe, loved, and getting the support they needed.
More often than not, that’s exactly what we found.
There were times when the abuse and neglect were obvious and left no question that a child was in need of protection. There were also times when the abuse and neglect weren’t so clear. Those tended to be the most difficult to maneuver.
All you had was a knot in your stomach and a feeling that something wasn’t right. And that was the very reason why I had scheduled yet another visit with Dylan and his parents.
I was sitting out front of his house, waiting for my police escort, who was already ten minutes late. I checked the time on my phone for what felt like the hundredth time and let out a deep breath, trying to keep my nerves in check.
I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel and stared at the modest brick house where Dylan lived with his little brother and parents, Marlene and Danny Mercer.
I’d been trying to figure out what was going on with him for weeks, but every time I thought I was getting somewhere, I would get shut down.
Every conversation felt like I was trying to solve a puzzle, but I only had half the pieces. It was frustrating, but I couldn’t move forward until I knew what we were dealing with. I looked around, hoping to see some sign of the officer, and that was when I spotted Dylan a few houses down.
He was at the edge of a neighbor’s yard, talking to another kid. Nothing seemed to be unusual, other than the fact that the other kid was much older than Dylan. He looked to be fifteen or sixteen, and the size difference alone was enough to make me pay attention.
I watched for a few seconds, and it seemed like they were just talking. Then, Dylan shifted his backpack and turned away. That’s when the older boy grabbed his arm. Dylan stopped in his tracks, and the teenager stepped closer. When Dylan’s shoulder stiffened, I realized something was off.
The kid didn’t appear to be hostile. He wasn’t yelling or threatening… but Dylan’s body language told me all I needed to know. I opened my door and climbed out. As I started toward them, I called out, “Dylan!”
My voice carried across the street, and both boys turned to face me. The older boy’s expression changed immediately. It wasn’t fear or panic. It was something closer to annoyance. He shook his head, and without a word, he turned and walked away.
I was about to cross the street when Dylan started walking toward me.
“Hey. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he answered, continuing toward his house.
It was the same, ‘I’m fine’, I’d heard countless times before. I wasn’t buying it, so I asked, “Who was that?”
“Nobody.”
“He didn’t look like nobody to me.”
“Just some guy.”
I followed him up to the house as I asked, “What’s his name?”
“I don’t know.”
“Dylan.”
His shoulders sagged. “What?”
“Is something wrong?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I said, no.”
“Dylan, if this kid is giving you a hard time…”
“He’s not.”
“If you’re scared to…”
“I’m not. I said, I’m fine.”
He needed me to believe him and let it go.
So, he did the only thing he could. He turned and darted inside the house.
As much as I hated it, I didn’t follow. I couldn’t.
I had to wait for my escort. Thankfully, the patrol car pulled up just as I was about to head back to my car.
Seconds later, the door opened, and relief washed over me when Officer Eubanks stepped out.
I’d worked with him on several cases, and he always struck me as a good guy. He was young, eager, nice to the kids, and genuinely cared about what was going on with them. He adjusted his belt and started over to me with a smile. “Sorry I’m late. I got stuck in traffic.”
“It’s okay. It happens.” I motioned my head toward the door. “You ready?”
“Sure thing.”
He followed me up to the door and waited as I knocked. A few moments later, the door opened, and Dylan’s mother appeared looking even more tired than usual. But that didn’t stop her from smiling when she saw me. “Hi, Ms. Hughes.”
“Hi, Melissa.” She stepped aside, giving us room to enter. “This is Officer Eubanks. He’s going to stand at the door, and he’ll only step in if we need him.”
“Hello, Officer Eubanks. Can I get you a drink or anything?”
“I’m good, but thank you, Mrs. Mercer. I appreciate the offer.”
She nodded, and then I followed her into the living room. We sat on the sofa, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. Eventually, Melissa sighed and said, “Danny got tied up at work, but he’s trying his best to get here.”
“That’s fine. We can start without him.” I gave her a smile as I asked, “How have things been going?”
“It hasn’t been a great week.” Her shoulders sagged like she was carrying the weight of the world, and it was taking a toll on her. “Dylan’s been difficult… More than usual.”
She sounded so defeated, and my heart actually ached for her.
It was clear she loved her son, and she always seemed truly concerned about what was going on with him.
There was no missing the worry in her voice when she told me, “He’s been so moody…
He snaps at us over little things, and he’s spending more and more time in his room.
I try to get him to talk to me, but it always ends up in an argument. I don’t know what to do anymore.”
She wasn’t making excuses. Like me, she was looking for answers, so I asked, “Have you considered the counseling services we’ve offered?”
“I have.” She sighed. “Danny hasn’t really been on board, but I think he’s coming around. These last few days have been rough on him, too.”
Hope flickered inside me. Not because counseling would magically solve everything, but because I truly believed it was a start to getting him the help he needed. “I’m really glad to hear that.”
“I just want to know what’s going on with him.” She wrung her hands in her lap. “I see what his teachers have been worried about, and I’m worried, too.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
“I hope so.”
I wasn’t sure how to ask my next question, so I just went for it. “When I pulled up today, I saw Dylan talking to a boy down the street.”
“Oh?”
“He was a good bit older.”
“Oh, that was probably Jimmy,” she replied, like it was no big deal. “He’s one of the neighbor’s kids. He and Dylan hang out sometimes.”
“Do you know anything about him?”
“Not really.”
“What about his family?”
“I’ve met his mother a couple of times, and she seems nice enough.” She must’ve picked up on my concern, because she quickly added, “He’s always been very polite and respectful, and Dylan seems to enjoy hanging out with him.”
“Okay.”
“Do you think he has something to do with what’s been going on with Dylan?”
“I can’t answer that. At least, not yet.”
“So, you think it’s possible?”
“I think it would be best to limit the amount of time you allow them to spend together.”
“Okay. I can do that.” Her voice trembled as she added, “I’ll go get Dylan.”
She got up, and a few moments later, she returned with Dylan at her side. The difference between the boy outside and the one sitting next to his mother was impossible to miss. Outside, I’d seen glimpses of fear or frustration, but now, there was nothing.
He would barely even look at me when I said, “Hi, Dylan. It’s good to see you again.”
Melissa gave me a pained expression when he didn’t respond. I didn’t make a big deal of it and just moved forward. “How’s school going?”
“Fine.”
“How about that math test you were telling me about? How’d you do?”
“Don’t know yet.”
“I’m sure you did great.”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Any problems with any of your other classes?”
“No.”
His answers were short and to the point, and he never once looked directly at me.
Instead, he kept his eyes trained on the floor.
He wasn’t like this last week. He was still distant, but I managed to get him to open up a little.
I hoped I could get there again, so I kept trying. “What about things here?”
“They’re okay.”
“What about your folks?” I glanced up at Melissa as I asked, “Are you guys getting along?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
I heard Officer Eubanks shift behind me, but I didn’t let it distract me. I kept asking questions, keeping things light and easy, and then I changed direction. “What about Jimmy?”
His eyes flickered up to mine, then quickly returned to the floor. He didn’t say anything, so I pushed a little harder. “The boy you were talking to outside… Are you friends?”
“I guess.”
“What do you do together?”
“I don’t know… We just play games and stuff.”
“And you like him?”
“I guess.”
“How old is he?”
“I don’t know.”
I found that hard to believe. Most kids knew exactly how old their friends were, especially when they were older. But I let it go and moved on to the next. “Do you spend much time at his house?”
“Not really.”
“What about here? Does he come hang out with you?”
“No.” He sighed, then turned to his mother. “Can I go now?”
Melissa looked to me, and I nodded. I knew we weren’t getting anywhere today, so there was no sense in keeping him. Melissa smiled with reassurance as she told him, “Yeah. You can go, but don’t go too far. Dinner will be ready soon.”
“Okay.”
When he stood to leave, I gave him a friendly wave and said, “It was good to see you, Dylan. I hope we can talk again soon.”