Ashland - The Filthy Mattress: The True Story and Memoir Of My Escape From A Child Porn Ring

Pennsylvania 1989

A plume of dust encircled my worn sneakers as I kicked a stone down the dirt road about a mile from my house. All I wanted was a new pair of sneakers for my birthday, but my moms waitressing job cut her hours again so all I got was a peach and a fire truck sticker. The kids at school would no doubt make fun of the holes and cracked material surrounding my feet for the upcoming school year but I was running away, for good this time.

I didnt have time to pack or tell my sisters where I would be headed this time anyway. Dad came stumbling through the front door an hour after Mom had given me the peach and asked me if I knew the first thing about being a man now that I was eight.

I didnt.

All I knew was that men are supposed to disappear during the day and come home, sometimes after everyone has fallen asleep, to throw plates against the wall and curse about money and the heat. When there were no more plates to throw sometimes Mom would lock all of us in the bathroom while Dad banged on the door, calling her a whore and asking where she hid her tip money.

This is no life to live, you whore, come out of there! I cant live like this anymore. You think I am made of money? You think I can support you and four kids? Youre wrong. I didnt ask for this! hed holler, pushing his fists into the thin door until he either passed out or left to find someone else who would listen.

I didnt know what a whore was but Mom would roll her eyes and play cards with us or braid the girls hair while we waited for him to disappear. When he left she would tuck us into bed again, the four of us crammed on a queen size mattress on the floor, and tell us that we were the only things that kept her living on this earth. It was a silly thing to say since none of us kids ever told her she couldnt go anywhere.

Breathing kept me on this earth. And peaches. I loved peaches.

Peaches are for pansies, are you a pansy? Dad asked, eyeing the fruit in my hand and wiping the smile from my face.

Damn it Carl, leave the boy alone, its his birthday.

I know it. Hes a man now. Whats he gotta run around eatin peaches for?

I like them, I said, rubbing the cool fuzzy skin against my cheek.

Aw hell, give me that. Dad grabbed the fruit from my hand before I could protest and without hesitating he twirled on the heel of his boot like a ballerina and catapulted the peach from his grasp, watching it splatter against the kitchen wall.

Woooo! he hollered, Now all we need is some flour and we can have ourselves a pretty peach pie! The near-empty bottle of whiskey kissed his lips, filling his mouth with the venom of an evil man.

No one heard me slip through the back door as Mom and Dad started to yell at each other. I wanted to leave before the plates started flying.

The sky darkened and the endless stretch of empty farm fields ahead of me suddenly became intimidating. My sister Cali told me that there was nothing to be afraid of in the cornfields but I couldnt believe her. I eyed the towering stalks suspiciously as I hugged the edge of the road, maneuvering my way towards town. The roads and sky were desolate, leaving me to consider my escape plan in peace.

First to the main town, then Id hitch a ride to Grandmas house. I didnt know her address but I knew the roads to get there. Maybe if I walked a little faster, Id make it to her house by morning and she would give me pancakes. I would live with her forever if I could but my mom said Grandma loves drugs more than anything so thats why we didnt visit often. Maybe if she saw how helpful I could be she would let me live there in the house with her and her boyfriend named Drugs.

Darkness started to suffocate the light around me as the sun retreated behind the horizon. I would need to shuffle my feet across the dirt soon to make sure I stayed on the road. A droplet of water kissed my forehead. Then another.

A steady stream of water flowed from the top of my blonde head into my blue eyes as I tried to rub the water away in search for shelter. We had no neighbors within walking distance and I was too far-gone to turn around. If I walked into the house soaking wet after leaving so sneakily Dad would be furious.

The red pickup truck appeared seemingly out of nowhere. One headlight was out and it cruised to a screeching stop on my left side just as a crack of thunder and lightening lit up the sky. I jumped, pushing my hands into my pockets as I listened to the squeak of the window lurch downward to reveal a man older than my Dad with dark brown eyes and salt and pepper hair.

Where ya headed buddy? Looks like you could use a ride.

My bottom lip quivered. I didnt want to go home. This man would surely bring me back to my mom and dad where nothing would ever change.

You running away or something? the man asked, one beefy arm outstretched over the bench seat of the truck as he peered down the road in the direction I had come from.

Kinda, I said.

The man nodded, a grim smile spreading across his face. Yeah, I remember when I ran away from home too. I was about your age. I ate all the ice cream I wanted from then on, and I never had to listen to my parents again. You like ice cream?

I nodded. If this guy had run away from home too then maybe he had an idea of what to do next. Maybe he would drive me to Grandmas.

Well the weathers not getting any nicer, climb up here and well head to town and get some. You like chocolate or vanilla?

I hesitated as he pushed the Chevy door towards me, exposing the warm and dry cabin with a generous nod.

Dont you worry, I aint gon hurt you. My names Larry and I know all about running away, you and me could make a good team, you know?

I smiled.

My sneakers slipped on the side step as I scurried to climb inside. My dads truck was always so hard to get into but Larrys side step made it easy to get inside. Larry reached across my chest, pulling the weight of the door closed behind me as I settled in and sat on my hands to warm them.

Whats your name little man? Going to need to know what to call my partner in crime. Larry winked and pulled the lever to put the truck into drive.

Ben. Im eight.

The pickup truck merged onto the dirt road with wisps of corn stalks flying by at an alarming rate. We would get to town in no time and I would be one step closer to freedom.

Youre eight? Damn, from the looks of you I thought you was only six or seven. Ben huh? Thats a good name.

The faint scent of stale cigarettes lingered on the seats and my eyes widened as Larry put his hand on my inner thigh, patting it gently. You and me are gon make a great team, buddy.