Alex was in big trouble. She had told Jumoke's mother about his disobedience and abuse, and Jumoke was plenty angry with her.  She was going to pay.

I warned Alex.  I'd payed often enough that I had a pretty good idea of what she would run into.  I hung up the phone, hoping against hope that Alex could handle it and that we wouldn't hear from them till that night after Jumoke was in bed.

I got a phone call from Alex a couple hours later.

They had packed a picnic lunch and were riding bikes to the park.  The only bike Jumoke's size was the brand new bike of Alex's 6 year old.  The six year old wasn't very happy that he had to ride his old bike, but Alex convinced him that this was the nice thing to do for a visiting friend.

Jumoke paid back the kindness with rough treatment of the bike, riding it then leaping off and letting it crash and slide along the ground. Alex spoke with him, telling him if he couldn't treat someone else's property with respect, he could just walk to the park.

He smiled at her and hopped on the bike.

I had tried to explain "the smile" to Alex before, but it was difficult to understand unless you experience it.  It comes at innappropriate times, when he is being scolded or when he is telling about bad things he does or when he has done something very naughty and has been caught.  The smile on a normal child is gleeful, the smile of Christmas morning and the carnival at the fair, eyes dancing, full of life and hope and wonderful joy.

But it's an eerie thing to see when it's the smile applied to a situation where someone has been hurt or the child is being scolded for misbehaviour.

The smile gave her the willies like it does me.

They went on to the park, Jumoke riding the bike like a regular boy.  The picnic went well, until Jumoke demanded that Alex help him out of a swing. She told him he was a big boy and could get out himself and to come and eat. There was a bit of bantering, then all of a sudden Jumoke broke into tears, sobbing his heart out, begging her to help him. 

Frustrated but not sure what to do, Alex went to help him. She lifted him up and he fell back into the swing.  She lifted him again, telling him he *could* do it himself, but when she got him free of the swing except for his feet, he began screaming out in pain.  She looked to make sure nothing could be hurting him and asked her older girls to check, and they could see nothing. But he continued to scream at the top of his lungs, "You're hurting me! You're hurting me!"

She set him down on his feet on the ground and told him he was just fine and he could join them for food as soon as he quit screaming and crying. He grabbed a blanket and walked about 20 feet away from the rest of the kids, sobbing his eyes out. He covered his whole body with the blanket and cried loud and long.

Alex and the kids ignored him.  Soon, however, the 5 year old girl went over to touch the blanket and ask Jumoke if he were ok.  He yanked the blanket from his head and screamed at her, "Just leave me alone! Leave me alone!"

After they finished eating, Alex told Jumoke to come along. At first she wasn't sure he would comply, but he finally climbed out of the blanket, put his helmet on, and rode the bike home with the family.

The afternoon did not get better.  I felt badly when Alex called, but didn't know how to help them.  She was feeling some of the symptoms she has when her blood pressure is getting too high, and I was concerned.  I told her if it didn't get better, we would come to get Jumoke.

He did as he pleased that afternoon. He got into the refrigerator between meals and ate what he wanted.  When asked by the older girls if his mother allowed him to do that, he lied and said, "Sure".  When Alex told him that he was not allowed to get food without asking, he simply wiped his mouth and walked away with an unconcerned air.  She knew he would be back in the fridge when he felt hungry again.  She felt helpless.

He had taken liberties with the computer and television, turning on the tv after the family were all in bed, getting on the computer any time he pleased. Alex put her foot down and said, "No more computer."  So he went into the computer room where Alex's 9 year old daughter was playing on the computer. Snow has Fetal Alcohol Syndrome and is slightly retarded and very vulnerable.  Alex walked in to see Jumoke sitting on a chair behind Snow with Snow's head wedged in his crotch, his legs squeezing her head as he watched her play the computer game.  Because of Snow's tendency to not be aware of abnormal situations and because of her extremely high tolerance to pain, she continued to play as tho she were sitting in the room by herself.

One thing after another. Jumoke gave no one a break.

For Tim and I, as well as Walt and Alex, the straw that broke the camel's back was when their tiny 5 year old daughter came to them, upset, and told them, "Jumoke told me to be quiet or he's going to crush my head until I bleed." 

We made plans for Tim to meet Walt half way and bring the boy home Sunday night.  As the hours moved forward, so did the plans to bring him home.  Both men ended up leaving Saturday early afternoon instead of Sunday evening.

Jumoke needed to be home under his daddy's authority. 

The trip with Walt was annoying.  Jumoke talked back and argued.  When Tim asked Walt how the trip went, Walt let him know. We had told Jumoke a few weeks ago that there would be no more secrets. The adults in his life would be communicating so that they could help him not hurt himself or others.

Tim called Jumoke over and told him he needed to apologize to Uncle Walt.  Jumoke knew immediately what Tim was talking about and without help, apologized for talking back and arguing.  I found that a great thing! I've never ever one single time seen Jumoke take responsibility for any wrong. He's always felt he was the victim.

Tim's view is that when confronted with two adults of the men type, Jumoke wisely decided it would not be a fun thing to try to mess with them and pretend he was confused and ignorant.

Jumoke has been subdued and obedient since arriving home. He told us that he had had a good time at Uncle Walt and Aunt Alex's house. He fully expected to go back as soon as Mother's Day was over. He obeyed the whole time except for a couple very little things. They liked being with  him a lot.

OK

Tim sat him down, gave him a piece of paper, and Jumoke spent the morning before church writing a list of things that he needed to apologize to Aunt Alex  for. He couldn't think of a single thing. So I started to list them for him. He cried. He growled. He sighed. He glared.

Apologizing will not change his heart. We know that. But it is doing the right thing. In our home, a child makes a wrong right, even if their heart is not in it, simply because it is the right thing to do. With our other children, by the time they were 4, this became an ingrained habit.

Perhaps it will become an ingrained habit with Jumoke someday. Regardless, that's how this family handles it when they wrong people. Jumoke is one of us. For today at least. So he will do as the this family does. For today at least.

He's plenty angry, and wanting to take it out on me. But Tim is keeping him right at his side. Tomorrow should be interesting. But Tim said that if Jumoke lashes out at me in a way I can't handle, we cannot wait for a family or diagnosis. He must leave.

I'm hoping I can handle whatever it is he hands out tomorrow. I really do want him to be diagnosed before he leaves. I want him to start his journey to wellness as soon as possible, and that won't happen if the next family doesn't know Jumoke and what he is capable of.