Friday, June 12, 2009

Out of the Pan...into the Fire!!! 1

(this is I-80 in Wyoming...not the one I rode my bike on but close enough)

Anyone that has read this blog for any length of time (thank you btw) will have realized by now that I came from a childhood home that, hindsight tells me, Im lucky to have escaped from with my life. No lie. Read this little adventure I had and tell me someone wasnt smiling on me that day (night).

My family lived on a farm of sorts the last two years I was in high school. It was situated about 17 miles outside of Rock Springs just off highway I-80. We were isolated and at the complete mercy of my insane father who kept us wondering on a moment by moment basis as to when his newest rampage would begin...and would we come out the other side with limbs and lives intact?

This farm had a tank in which we could haul clean water and fill it up to use in the house etc...or fill up with ordinary water for watering the animals or just day to day activities. For the longest time it was filled with sweet water so that we could drink directly from the tap in the well as all other household needs.

Unknown to any of us the tank had formed a crack in one of its underground walls and therefore rainwater or whatever ground water there was had gotten into the well. My father knew this and had taken a sample to be analyzed to see if any impurities had gotten into the tank.

Apparently the answer was positive for impurities. Father did not bother to tell me this when I arrived home from school and went about my usual chores and preparing dinner. I also made a pot of coffee which was required to be made at all times in our house.

I had a feeling something was up though because he kept pacing around the house like a caged animal waiting for someone to get too close so he could lash out and strike...leaving torn skin and shredded nerves behind. I stayed well clear...I knew the potential for violence was never far away. Little did I know that the caged animal had me in his sights.

Finally my father stormed into the kitchen shoving some papers under my nose shouting about poisons and plots and how I was surely going to hell for trying to murder my own father...WTF!!! I desperately looked at the wall clock and realized my mother wouldnt be home for another hour or so. I was alone with a mad man.

A mad man who apparently thought I had tried to poison him though coffee made with tainted water. Water he didnt bother to tell me was tainted to begin with.

For the next half hour his anger and agitation grew more volatile with every new accusation of plotted murder and threats of sending me directly to hell. I was literally shaking in my shoes at this point. I had seen him go off on a wild rant before but this was something else entirely. Every few moments he would come charging back to me shoving the papers anew...spitting out numbers that were supposed to mean something to me about so much % of taint in the water...then he would start circling the house again. I would take that time to try and calm down and figure out my escape...for escape I knew was my only solution. He was on a true and straight course for violence...and the fact that he was whipping himself up into an ever greater frenzy left me feeling like I wouldnt live to see the sun come up much less my mother arriving home to calm things down.

I had to take time like the present as they say.

I might mention that by this time my younger sister had arrived home from school and walked into a scene of impending domestic violence...she backed out into the driveway again without my father even realizing she was there. She knew how to lay low when it was called for. Of course this meant she was a witness to my get away.

The moment my father stalked off once again I was out the front door and taking my life into my hands in the only way I knew how...I grabbed my bike and hit the road. I might remind you that we lived off a major Wyoming highway....17 miles from town...and it was just reaching sunset.

I had nowhere to go...but I was damned if I was going to stay and willingly be hurt (or worse) by that man who had violence on his mind if there was something I could do about it.

I got on the highway and road like the hounds of hell were on my heels.

Some of you are probably thinking right the hell could she even think about doing something like that? A long stretch of lonely highway...unknown potential predators behind the wheel of every car or semi that went by? Sun going down and miles between me and the next town. Believe me...not once did I even think about the dangers I was willingly riding into because the danger I was escaping held me in a grip of reckless abandon...better to escape the Monster I knew...then worry about the ones that might lay ahead of me.

Unknown to me...I would find out mother had arrived home but obviously got a condensed and cleaned up version of what had been going on prior to my hitting the highway. Since my father didnt know my younger sister had been there...he assumed his story would be the only one that mattered. When sis told mom what Really happened...she called the police. Father apparently wasnt too worried about daughter on the highway at night...but mom was right on it!!!

However, once she called the police, father was all ears and full of fake concern. Remember he had already had a year in jail for accusations of killing my older sister (old post...cant link sorry) so he wasnt about to keep up his rampage when the cops were on the way...suddenly he was concerned father worried about his wayward daughter. Yeah...right

As well as waiting for the cops to show up my mother had gone down the road both ways thinking I hadnt gone very far...but by this time I was miles away headed for town. (wasnt sure what I was going to do when I got there...worry about that later)

Lucky for me (yeah lucky) I happened to be wearing a white had Mickey Mouse on it. Dont know why I remember that...but at least it showed up clear and bright on that dark stretch of highway...otherwise I could easily have been hit by any car or semi that went by. Unknown to me I had obviously been spotted by a few semi's that had gone by (nearly knocking me off the road anyhow with the blow back)...and someone thought it prudent to call the highway patrol. Whoever I was...I sure wasnt safe on the road at night on a bike.

Of course all this time my mother was freaking out back home...she also realized what bringing the police into it might do to our house...while the police were there father would be the epitome of domestic bliss...once they were gone...lets just would hate to be us. When the cops arrived they gave a sanitized "teen upset so ran away" story as a cover. My mother was too scared to say what really had been going on. My father had that affect on us.

So here I was, black highway stretched before me. Only the occasional billboard to light the way. The sky was clear but the moon wasnt that bright. I could just barely see the road well enough to stay on it...all though the lights of passing cars helped...but the horn that they sounded now and then scared the crap out of me every time. To this day Ive often wondered why not even one car or semi stopped for me...with honest intentions of help or...ahem...something else....I didnt even get one slow down and shout out the window. Im absolutely positive that wouldnt happen here in Bahrain if the situation were the same.

On I rode. My back was killing me...not to mention my ass. I had visions of never being able to sit properly again....but on I rode. I never once considered turning around and going back. Fear kept my adrenaline on high octane.

Eventually the highway patrol caught up with me. Not the ones my mother had spoken too actually but ones that had gotten several call outs from passing semi's that had spotted me in the dark. These ones did not know who I was at the moment.

For some reason these men in blue (or is it brown for the highway) decided to come up RIGHT THE FREAK BEHIND ME before turning their lights on and hitting the WHOOP WHOOP!! of the siren.

To tell you that my heart nearly flew out my mouth as I barely kept myself from flying off the side of the road into the ravine running along side the highway hardly describes it. When I realized the cops had found me...I wasnt in the least happy to see them. All I could think about is that they were going to take me back home...he would make up some crap story about me being a bad daughter...they would leave with severe warnings to "behave myself and keep of the highways".

So I did what any kid would do in my situation...I lied to the cops.

*to be continued


Chiara said...

Another great narration! Now hurry up with Part 2. LOL :)

janice said...

Awwww, I can't wait for the next post, CoolRed!

I do, however, LOVE your stories. Not the (evil/abusive) acts themselves, but how you tell the tales.

You should compile a memoir.

Anonymous said...

Hey Red,

This reads like a chapter out of my own past only in my case we lived in town and I used to escape to the local library until it closed and I could go home because he was usually passed out by then.

My Dad wasn't usually violent but his ocassional rages were enough to keep us all in a chronic state of anxiety when ever he would start to drink.

You are a natural writer Red. I hope some day you will write the book I know you have in you.

Fat Too

Umm Omar said...

Looking forward to hearing the rest of story. You're an excellent writer. It's amazing how that survival/defense mechanism just kicked in. Reminds me of a time when I was cooking. Left the stove for a minute and came back to find the pan in flames. If you would ask me what I would do in that situation, I would tell you that I would run like heck, but, without even thinking, I reached over and around the fire, shut off the heat, moved the pan to another burner, and then called 911. By the time the fire dept arrived, the fire had died down. Sorry if that made no sense to you.

coolred38 said...

Chiara...working on it now...ha ha.

Janice...people keep telling me that...maybe I should listen?

Fat Too..ah the library. Refuge for the lonely souls in which home is the last place you want to be. I had no library to run to other than the one in my own bedroom. I visited it often...sigh.

Umm seems we are never sure what we are capable of until called upon to act...yes?

Chiara said...

Well, okay then.

But take a brief BRIEF break and check your email. Thanks :)

Yasemin said...

I cried as I read this, waves of my own memories flashing before my eyes of my own infuriated dad. I never ran away but would "go to sleep" in the early afternoon and remain there in the dark to avoid him SO often.

Wishing so much that the police would intervene for you Red, and that your mother would do something. I'm hoping part 2 includes this....

And also imagining this stretch of highway and how desolate that area is. We traveled to Yellowstone and there was no one and I mean no one for miles. They say that 90% of Wyoming land is owned by the government and that makes sense reading your story.

You are gifted and so brave. Oh sweetie, I think people didn't stop because even then, they would be scared of being accused of kidnapping, pedophilia, whatever....Love you.

coolred38 said...

Chiara...checked email...lets just say it was a United Nations meow...democratic and fair to all?

Lisa...Id like to believe the people of Wyoming were essentially good hearted...and so dark intent on seeing me as an easy victim never crossed their minds...its a nice

Chiara said...

Coolred--thanks again. I knew you would understand. LOL :)
Now about that Part 2...

coolred38 said...

Chiara...I try not to take sides on blogs is something Part 2 is coming.

Suroor said...

Very interesting! Can't wait for part 2.