Saturday, June 20, 2009

Out of the Pan...into the Fire!!! 3

(I have no idea what neighborhood this is but its similar to the ones I rode through)

So as soon as the cops were around the corner I hopped on my bike, giving my BMX rashed out backside a yelp of surprise and headed for just about the only place I could think of...boyfriends house!!

Only problem with that is that I had only ever been to his house twice, once with Moms permission (long before she came to loath him as many moms do) and once without Moms permission (his mom knew though...does that count?) Which meant that I had a general idea where his house was...when sitting in a car driving from school...on a bike at night coming from unfamiliar surroundings meant I was "driving blind" and taking my best guess.

It would take a whole other post to give you some idea of what I went through over the next two hours while I searched for his house, kept a look out for the police and desperately needing to go to the bathroom but figuring with my luck I would get caught with my pants down..literally. I rode on.

Through a rather hit and miss affair it finally dawned on me that I had found his neighborhood quite by chance as I recognized a few landmarks...I got excited and apprehensive at the same time knowing that the moment I seen him I would feel both instantly safe and absolutely terrified. Once I knocked on his door his mother would have no choice but to let my parents know where I was...its what parents do (or should...right?).

It was around 2 a.m. when I finally came upon his house...right on the freakin corner with street lights all lit up...I realized I had been back and forth twice already...somehow missing it while lost in my fear and nervousness. Now that I had arrived I was feeling uncertain and sure that it was absolutely the wrong thing to do to drag him into this...but I needed someone on MY side and at the moment I felt completely alone...on a deserted street at night with father back home lost in his looking for me I know but scared herself...and the cops possibly well aware now of who they dropped off and would no doubt have gone back to check on me. I needed to get off the street.

And did I mention I had to pee?!!! That was pretty much the deciding factor when it all came down to it.

Rather than go knock on his door bold as brass however, I went around to the side to his bedroom window and did my reenactment of Romeo and Juliet...except in this case Juliet was on the outside wanting in. I tossed some small stones against his window and couldnt believe the whole neighborhood didnt wake up from the crashing sound stones on glass made. I quickly ducked back down in the bushes expecting doors and windows to fly open at any moment...but all was silent.

His window was out of my reach so I couldnt just tap on it...and I seriously thought I would end up breaking it as my nervous hands didnt give me much control over the rocks I was throwing. I stood there on that moonlighted night wondering what I should do next.

I wandered back up to the front of the house contemplating knocking on the door and all that would occur after that....then I heard some noises that had me diving under some contents stowed on the porch. As I wiggled my tired butt under some chairs and gathered some things around me in an effort to hide me the noises grew louder...

Even though I was wanting my Mother at that moment more than anything...the sound of her voice along with my older sisters coming slowly down the street in her car with the windows down in lively discussion as to where HIS house was ....inexplicably had me diving for cover. To this day I dont know why I hid...but hide I did and had a foots eye view of what transpired next.

Up til then I had no idea that my sister even knew where his house was and so was surprised to see them there even though I had just spent the last few hours seriously wanting my mother. Now that she was just down on the street...I felt the need to hide...but still wondered how sis knew where his house was...and for some reason...rather upset that she did. It was somehow a relief to me that I had thought to hide my bike in the bushes so at least they wouldnt be able to see it and know I was there...somewhere...if not in the house.

As they pulled up to the curb and the engine died I could hear them plainly arguing as the whether this was house since obviously I wasnt here because all the lights were off. I squeezed myself further back in my hidey hole and held my breath as best I could. For once in my life I was rather relieved that I was only 5'3"...made hiding so much easier...sigh.

They sat in the car for 15 minutes debating whether to knock on the door or not. Waiting for signs that I was in fact in there...or maybe thinking I hadnt found my way here or hadnt even thought to come here. Meanwhile I was battling with mosquitoes that had found me and wondering if my need of a bathroom was ever going to be obtained. And still I wondered why I continued to hide.

Eventually they drove away talking about searching the surrounding neighborhoods more thoroughly. I scooted out and immediately banged on the door...before I did anything else...I needed the bathroom NOW!! If that meant waking them up then I was waking them up.

His father came to the door. Great!! He was a huge man that said very little and liked to drink in his past life. Apparently he had been up watching tv in the dark...and did not act in the least surprised or upset to see me standing on his porch at 2:30 in the morning. He opened the door wider and invited me in...the house was dark and silent (gulp) and only the tv flickering gave any idea that someone was home.

The father called out to my boyfriend that he had a "female guest", I wanted to giggle at that considering my true position in boyfriends life...and wondered how often guests, female or otherwise, showed up unannounced in the middle of the night? I might point out that arriving unannounced in the middle of the night affords you some information about someone you might ordinarily not know...such as...boyfriend apparently slept in the nude...since nude is how he stumbled out of his room all bleary eyed and completely sure his father was confused about something.

One wide eyed look at me left a flurry of emotions scurrying across his face. Happiness at seeing me....fear over what brought me there (knowing full well what my mother thought of him) and sudden realization that he was VERY cold...for obvious reasons. He dived back into his room and came back out within seconds with some pj bottoms on. My red face was still burning though and would continue to do so for quite sometime..."it" was the first one I had ever seen...not related to me or on tv...if you know what I mean.

He rushed over and hugged me and I felt safe at once...even though I knew full well he couldnt really do anything...for that moment I felt like all my troubles meant nothing...I realized I had been somewhat holding my breath up til that point as I now felt it rush out in deep felt relief.

His mother came out of the bedroom tying on her robe and wondering what all the noise was. One look at me and she knew "shit" had been going on at my house that night...if only she knew. I had approximately 5 minutes to give a rushed rundown of what my evening had consisted of before we heard a knock on the that was fast.

At the door stood two city cops and my mom and sis. The cops had hands on guns (again) but at least they were still holstered. Suddenly the night became very tense indeed and everyone seemed on edge and completely careful about movement and speech tones. I hated the fact that I had drawn this family into my drama...but desperate times call for irrational actions...sometimes...sigh.

Discussions ensued in which my "rights" were hashed that since I was only 17 I had NO right to decide for myself where I chose to be at that mother had the right to take me home...end of discussion. I remained quiet up till then but eventually felt compelled to step out on the porch and face my mother with the fact of my fathers insanity...and how me going home was the LAST thing I wanted to do.

I could see by the look on her face she didnt want me to say anything but I couldnt hold back. I was scared to death to go home...especially after my midnight ride and getting the cops involved. I knew on top of everything else that had father would hold that against me.

"Mom, dont you understand...Dad believes I tried to poison him for Gods sake. How can I go home when he thinks that?"

She tried to make light of it and explained to me (but really for the cops benefit) that he had calmed down and didnt mean it...and had promised not to mention this night again. I believe that!!!

The cops explained that I could either go home...or go to a childrens shelter over night until something could be decided about me. I didnt like the sound of that much as I didnt want to go home...I wanted my Mom. I decided to go home....with the absolute resolution that if I could ride my bike into town once...I could damn well do it again if I needed too. Apparently Mom realized this too as she told my sis to keep the bike at her house when we left her there later....sigh!!!

After it was all hashed out we left with a warning from the cops that they would "check on me" to make sure all was well. My boyfriend had barely said a word up til then...sort of gave me an idea that he wasnt the sort to speak up (something I would learn very well later on)...his mother was against letting me go but what could she do? Off we went.

The car ride home was very quiet. Mom didnt know what to say to make me feel safe. She knew what we were going back too...knew the potential for violence that awaited us..even with the threat of cops showing up at anytime. As I have posted about father didnt care much for cops and didnt mind letting them know it.

We arrived home with heavy hearts and heavier feet. Entering that house that night was hands down one of the bravest things I had ever done in my life up to that point. I was on pins and needles and ready to fly into the night at the least provocation..,.with or without the bike.

My father spoke to my mom...asked her what happened...but didnt speak to me...or even look at me. From that night until I left for the Air Force about 5 weeks later he did not utter so much as one word to me...and avoided me as much as possible. On the one hand I was relieved to be off his radar so to speak...on the other hand I KNEW my father and didnt expect it to last as long as it did...consequently I was constantly on high alert around him. I couldnt relax or let my guard down even for a was an exhausting 5 weeks.

By the time my instructor arrived at my house June 21, 1986 to take me to Salt Lake City for my departure for San Antonia Texas for boot camp...I was literally an emotional mess. Anticipating violence is almost as bad as actually being a victim of dont believe me...ask anyone who has been there. If I didnt know better, KNOWING my father and the way he was...I would say that was EXACTLY how he wanted me to feel. Payback for the night of drama. Wouldnt have put it past him for a moment.

Before I left my mother and younger sis hugged me and wished me well. The look in my mothers eyes was one I have never forgotten to this day. A mix of emotions that ranged from happiness that I was finally "escaping" and sadness that her child was leaving...and knowing my feelings for that house...most likely would not be least not for good. My father told her to stop crying and just let me leave. Always the tyrant.

I left my mother and sis that day...watching their reflections recede in the side view mirror...feeling like I was abandoning them to the Monster...leaving them without protection or hope. I was running away...but they had to stay.

If I were to explain my feelings that day it would be along the lines of...prisoners held against their will for years...suffering and abused in ways unimaginable...then one day ONE of the prisoners has a chance to escape...but is torn between running towards freedom...and staying back to offer support. Misery loves company as they say. Most of the time the other prisoners will encourage you to and dont look back...dont worry about us...we will be YOURSELF and come back for us.

I was running...I was saving myself...but would I come back and save the others? On that day I truly had no idea if I would be able to rescue those "left behind"...I wasnt sure if I was capable of rescuing myself...even though I was leaving home...I knew I wasnt emotionally fit for the "outside world." Something that has held true for most of my many of my posts here would attest too.

Leaving my mother and sis that day was and is still one of the worst memories I have of my youth. Its something my mother and I discuss alot. She admits she felt abandoned by me that day but also felt relieved I was getting away. She was proud that I had found my escape...but wanted to snatch me back and keep me with her.

Funny enough...little did I know that I was leaving one Monster behind...but another one waited for me up ahead....and I didnt stand a chance against that one either.


Anonymous said...

Hey Red,

You do have quite a story to tell, can't wait for the next installment. I find writing very cathartic, hope it works that way for you too.

I have been reading some of your back story from earlier posts in your archive. I know it's there to be read but I feel a little like a tresspasser. You are much more candid than I could ever be. More power to you.

Fat Too

coolred38 said...

Fat Too...oh go ahead and rifle through my I dont mind or I wouldnt put it out there.

Writing is very cathartic for me...some of these things I write about I havent really spoke of them except to a very few select people...and rarely at that.

Just to leave you with a matter what you read here...believe me when I tell you...there is so much more and a hell of a lot worse to tell.

It is MY life we are speaking of after all.

Chiara said...

Great narration as always.

Do you want help with the typos, or should I leave that to your editor, and Oprah's staff? LOL :)

BTW I've got a title for you:
A Million Little REAL Pieces" LOL :)

coolred38 said...

Chiara...sorry for any typos...Im currently using a laptop that I absolutely loath...the keyboard is too narrow and Im constantly hitting the wrong keys. The constant backspacing messes with my train of thought...argh!!

Yasemin said...

Hi sweetie, my tears rolled down as I too, thought of leaving behind my little brother as I embarked towards college in the care of my monster dad.

He had so little hair to begin with, and so much of it was pulled out by dad over the years.

Don't feel guilty for leaving your mom behind. I didn't, because my mom stayed even though our pastor and her best friend knew and urged her to get help.

Mashallah a thousand times over for what you did sweetie. I believe that our father knew he was this close to a 911 call if h made any moves in the weeks before boot camp. You may very well have helped your mother and sister for a time, in a way you didn't realize to avoid his abuse. Love you SO much brave girl.

Chiara said...

Coolred, no worries, compulsive former English major behaviour, and I'm proofreading a friend's thesis--will she ever learn the proper use of articles, verb agreements, punctuation, and word order? Probably not, but she's a great scientist!

Oh and I nevvvvver make typos!! Does that statement have you rolling on the floor laughing your glutei maximi off?--Consider it my contribution to the fitness plan!

janice said...

WOW CoolRed! That's quite a story and I know what you went through the last 5 weeks. It's like being in combat waiting for the enemy.

When is the next installment coming? I can't wait!

Ana said...

Coolred, you are so comical and it's so natural for you. It's just you.

I love reading whatever you write wherever you are. It's amazing; I always seem to laugh(except for what is serious, of course).

You have a way with words that's good for uplifting a person's spirits.

I just don't know where you get all the energy to be all the places that you go. How do you keep up?

coolred38 said...

Lisa...its always nice (sort of sigh) when someone else understands exactly what your talking about. Im glad you got through your past troubles...just like I got through mine.

Chiara...I will NOT use an apostrophe in my posts and thats I hate using them...or Im lazy...not sure which.

Janice...exactly. Always on tenter hooks waiting to step on that landmine...argh!!!

Ana...Ive always been the sort to see the humor in things...not always a good thing believe me. My ability to laugh has certainly taken a beating this past couple of years...but writing helps bring it out again.

I can be all places at all times because I eat magic mushrooms...the best to find them are in the dark corners of your mind...go find some and tell me how it works for you.

Suroor said...

Your life would make a great movie! I can't believe you have had so much drama and adventure in your life. It makes you so incredible. Thanks for sharing!

Eastern Reflections said...

Coolred, you are so good at writing. I was feeling so many emotions reading it; anger that you had to deal with this bullshit, anticipation at what was happening next, frustration that your mother was taking you back to that hell hole, guilt at being angry at your mother b/c it isn't my place, happiness that you were finally escaping.

You have more guts than me when writing about your life story. The fire and hell you've went through has forged a very strong woman that you are today. No if's, and's, or but's.....and don't disagree either, lol.

P.S. Is your son planning on studying engineering at a university in Bahrain or going abroad to do it?

coolred38 said...

Suroor...ty...meanwhile my life seems fairly boring compared to

E.R....ty for the son will hopefully be accepted into the new Pilot Program being implented this summer in Bahrain...we are submitting his papers this week...his first choice has always been pilot but never thought it would be possible so he was headed for engineering...but if this works out for him...he will be flying the "friendly" skies...while I quietly have a heart attack every time he takes off...sigh.

Chiara said...

Coolred--we all have our least favourite puntuation marks, and then there are our extra special favourites ::::::::: ;;;;;;;;;;;; (sorry if any other punctuation marks were offended)

I hope your son gets into the Pilot Program (Gulf Aviation Academy?), way more direct route to flying happiness than engineering (should I point out that joining the Air Force is another route to pilot training, or would your mama's heart crack?)!

Good luck to him!

San Antonio Cicily said...

This has nothing to do with your post but I thought you should read LOL

Letter of appreciation?
Dear Tide Soap Company

I am writing to say what an excellent product you have! I've used it all
through my married life, as my mom always told me it was the best. Now
that I am in my fifties, I find it even better. In fact, about a month
ago, I spilled some red wine on my new white blouse.

My inconsiderate and uncaring husband started to berate me about how
clumsy I was, and generally started becoming a pain in the neck. One
thing led to another and somehow I ended up with a lot of his blood on
my white blouse. I tried to get the stain out using a bargain detergent,
but it just wouldn't come out. After a quick trip to the supermarket, I
purchased a bottle of liquid Tide with bleach alternative, and to my
surprise and satisfaction, all of the stains came out!! In fact, the
stains came out so well the detectives who came by yesterday told me
that the DNA tests on my blouse were negative and then my attorney
called and said that I would no longer be considered a suspect in the
disappearance of my husband. What a relief!! Going through menopause is
bad enough without being a murder suspect! I thank you, once again, for
having such a great product.

Well, gotta go. I have to write a letter to the Hefty Bag people.

coolred38 said...

Chiara...not Gulf Aviation...a NEW project that was kept secret and suddenly showcased in the public eye out of the blue...almost makes me happy he hadnt committed to another college just yet.

Cicily...too funny...and something I can totally understand.

San Antonio Cicily said...

somebody sent that to me in an email and every time I read I laugh so hard! My husband gets a kick out of it too LOL

Chiara said...

Coolred--I hope he gets in. I read your tweets about the good and bad financial news.

Maybe you should do a sanitized post on custody and support payments in Bahrain.

coolred38 said...

Chiara...I posted a comment yest but just realized it wasnt here for some reason. You were right about Gulf Aviation Academy...I was thinking of the words in arabic so was thinking something else...just wanted to point that out.

About the custody and support lord that would make a post and a half...I currently know a handful of women fighting to get any sort of custody or childsupport if they do have custody....the courts just dont want to know most of the time...send you home with a "work things out" order...sheesh.

Chiara said...

A "work things out" order works when the people are reasonable enough to take a step back, and work things out. Not obviously the case always.

Thinking in Arabic,eh? Does the rest of the blogosphere know about this, or do they think you're just a very bright red-head who spent 23 years in Bahrain raising Bahraini children and learning nothing? LOL :)

coolred38 said...

Chiara...exactly. Most of these men have no desire to work anything out...which is one of the main reason for divorces in the first place.

My Arabic comes and goes depending on the subject and shhhh!!! dont tell.

Chiara said...

Your linguistic secrets are safe with me! LOL

All الجهاد all the time, right? LOL