Monday, May 17, 2010
6 June 1980
It's my sisters' 6th birthday.
My mom has made the day very special for us - lots of baked treats and lots of love.
But my father said that we must wait for him to come home until Bob opens her presents.
At seven o'clock...he still wasn't back from the office .
We had supper.
My mom eventually told her excited six year old that she could open her presents.
At eleven o'clock he returned from Beelzebub's boardroom.
Aggressive, and more antagonistic than usual.
"Where the fuck are the kids ?"
"In bed. they have school tomorrow. We waited. It just got too late".
It was the sound of my mothers head hitting the wall.
He started laying into her.
"I thought I told you to wait for me...you fucking bitch? "
Miffy my dog, came running into my room, followed by a hysterical (newly) 6 year old.
Both jumped onto my bed.
The bedroom door was now wide open and we had a clear view into the passage.
I was too frightened to close it and draw attention to us - so we mutely stared at what unfolded before us.
Blood was running down the walls.
My mom had stopped screaming.
I didn't know if she was alive anymore.
I grabbed my sister and dog - and we lay under my bed - huddled closely together.
We could see everything that was happening from this vantage point.
My father had picked up my mother and stated bashing her against the wall again.
I covered my sisters eyes in an embrace.
Mom was limp and lifeless.
Every time her head hit the plaster - it would leave bloodstains - which would trickle down the wall in bizarre little patterns.
I remember those patterns so well.
Eventually he dropped her to the ground, where she lay still, in a limp ball - and went into the garage, without a further word.
The sound of his revving motor cycle filled the night air.
Once my nine year old mind was convinced that he was sufficiently engrossed in his new activity - we crawled out cautiously from under the bed to go check on mom.
We helped her clean up.
We told her how much we loved her.
It's a bitch to get blood off walls, let me tell you.
Sunshine cleaning ain't easy.
"I can manage, darlings", mom said.
"So to bed, girls - its school tomorrow."
The cacophony from the garage suddenly went silent.
We scampered like mice back into my room - Bob, me and Miffy - all got back into my little bed.
And I was on alert.
I hate waiting.