Being A Bastard 4
Without Prejudice
One of the worst incidents out of so many was how he treated Y. She was just 17 and pregnant and he beat her in the bathroom , sending her male friend out first. He beat her and she fell into the empty bath tub and he called her a slut. I had been pregnant at the same age but that mattered little to him.
He told all and sundry that fact was what ended our marriage but he lied. What ended our marriage was his violence. After Lauren died I had counselling that soon turned into Family counselling, they knew from one visit of his what he was like.
And they told me. Broached the subject straight away and at first I was humiliated and ashamed to talk about it. Thought some how it was my fault and they counselled me and counselled me and 5 months later I told him to leave the house.
I was no longer scared of him. He could have shot me right then and there in the kitchen as I swept the floor and I no longer could be reached with his roaring and shouting, I thought he can only kill me once. And after losing Lauren he would be putting me out of my pain.
The earth stood still for a second that day as I looked at him, dull eyed and full of white hot rage. He must have sensed a change in my demeanour as he had gone to reach for the list of our wrong doings and he hesitated. And went instead to his room and began to pack.
The girls and I stayed silent, I kept sweeping the floor and Deb kept cooking lunch and Yvette and Alena sat at the bench, frozen in time. I knew he would go, I knew I would not miss him for a second, not even for a nano second. And he was gone after several noisy trips to his prized GT Falcoln, the one with 12 coats of paint on it. One coat for every year of his daughters life.
He didn't want to be there, we didn't want him there and he left to go and live at the Factory, building himself a bedroom under the eaves of the Mezzanine floor. The prized factory that was his swan song of over the top capitalistic venture. We couldn't afford it, it was madness, we barely had enough work to support the Family never mind find $10,000 a month to pay the mortgage on it. We could barely make the payments on the house.
He sold the house from underneath us and handed it to the bank in one spiteful last gesture, rendering us homeless. His wife and kids of twenty years. He declared himself bankrupt later and ensured he took all the assets with him, the cars and trucks, the chain mesh machine, the machinery tools everything.
He even took the furniture out of the house. And do you know what? I didn't care. I just didn't care. I had lost a child, we had lost a child and for ever after more nothing would hurt me as much as that.
He bragged about it, said he wanted to see me in the gutter, for no good reason I could fathom except that I had rejeected him. He was proud to be a bastard, told everyone what he had done, had no shame, not one shred of decency for us, his Family.
The ones that had been there for him for all those years. Even after worse was to come far worse than we could ever imagine in the kitchen that day. He was a madman and still is and if I had the balls I would pull a gun on him and watch him beg for his life. Watch the big bully's sweatt run down his face as I cocked the trigger.
I hope some day someone does to him what he did to us, but that never happens, only in the Movies. No Charles Bronson on a white horse was coming to rescue us, no matter what we had to get on by ourselves and we banded together and started.
To be continued..........................
One of the worst incidents out of so many was how he treated Y. She was just 17 and pregnant and he beat her in the bathroom , sending her male friend out first. He beat her and she fell into the empty bath tub and he called her a slut. I had been pregnant at the same age but that mattered little to him.
He told all and sundry that fact was what ended our marriage but he lied. What ended our marriage was his violence. After Lauren died I had counselling that soon turned into Family counselling, they knew from one visit of his what he was like.
And they told me. Broached the subject straight away and at first I was humiliated and ashamed to talk about it. Thought some how it was my fault and they counselled me and counselled me and 5 months later I told him to leave the house.
I was no longer scared of him. He could have shot me right then and there in the kitchen as I swept the floor and I no longer could be reached with his roaring and shouting, I thought he can only kill me once. And after losing Lauren he would be putting me out of my pain.
The earth stood still for a second that day as I looked at him, dull eyed and full of white hot rage. He must have sensed a change in my demeanour as he had gone to reach for the list of our wrong doings and he hesitated. And went instead to his room and began to pack.
The girls and I stayed silent, I kept sweeping the floor and Deb kept cooking lunch and Yvette and Alena sat at the bench, frozen in time. I knew he would go, I knew I would not miss him for a second, not even for a nano second. And he was gone after several noisy trips to his prized GT Falcoln, the one with 12 coats of paint on it. One coat for every year of his daughters life.
He didn't want to be there, we didn't want him there and he left to go and live at the Factory, building himself a bedroom under the eaves of the Mezzanine floor. The prized factory that was his swan song of over the top capitalistic venture. We couldn't afford it, it was madness, we barely had enough work to support the Family never mind find $10,000 a month to pay the mortgage on it. We could barely make the payments on the house.
He sold the house from underneath us and handed it to the bank in one spiteful last gesture, rendering us homeless. His wife and kids of twenty years. He declared himself bankrupt later and ensured he took all the assets with him, the cars and trucks, the chain mesh machine, the machinery tools everything.
He even took the furniture out of the house. And do you know what? I didn't care. I just didn't care. I had lost a child, we had lost a child and for ever after more nothing would hurt me as much as that.
He bragged about it, said he wanted to see me in the gutter, for no good reason I could fathom except that I had rejeected him. He was proud to be a bastard, told everyone what he had done, had no shame, not one shred of decency for us, his Family.
The ones that had been there for him for all those years. Even after worse was to come far worse than we could ever imagine in the kitchen that day. He was a madman and still is and if I had the balls I would pull a gun on him and watch him beg for his life. Watch the big bully's sweatt run down his face as I cocked the trigger.
I hope some day someone does to him what he did to us, but that never happens, only in the Movies. No Charles Bronson on a white horse was coming to rescue us, no matter what we had to get on by ourselves and we banded together and started.
To be continued..........................
