Oscar was going through the motions of getting ready for bed but Esther wasn’t sure that he knew they were really happening.
The doorbell rang.
“Do you want me to get that?” Esther asked him.
“Sure.” Did he say it or did he dream that he said it? He must have said it because she was answering the door to Chet? Why had he came back. They were talking. What were they saying?
They all sat in the living room as Oscar gave Chet his phone.
“I can’t listen to or read these. I don’t want to know what they say, but if there’s anything on there that you need to know; do with it what you will.”
Chet accepted his phone and went to his SUV.
“God, why does it feel like everything I do is wrong?” Oscar let out a long breath.
“No child should ever be put in the situation that you have been put in.”
He put his hand on her thigh, “are you going to stay tonight?”
“Do you want me too?”
“Please.”
She smiled, “as you wish.”
He leaned over and gave her a kiss. “Thank you for everything.”
“You are most welcome kind sir,” she smiled.
Chet came back, “I have said it once before my friend and I will say it again. Your mother is a piece of work.” He handed the phone back to Oscar. “I got everything off that I needed and cleaned it for you.”
“Thanks.” Oscar looked so sad.
“Is Doris, Doris Langford?”
“Yes. In all mothers’ wonderful wisdom, she wants me to marry Doris.”
Chet’s eyes got huge. “As your best friend, you stay the hell away from that woman.”
“No worries from me.”
Esther really didn’t know how it felt. As parents, her grandparents were amazing. Their marriage was strong. Their faith was rock solid. Their children, with the exception of her dad, were all stellar. Not that there was anything wrong with her dad that his parents ever commented on. She just remembered her dad as always being sad. Kinda like the expression Oscar wore right now. She couldn’t imagine fighting with any of them.
“Esther,” Chet broke the silence. “Are you going to stay over here tonight?”
“We’ve talked about it.”
“Please do.” Chet smiled. “Oscar have you eaten today?”
“Who can eat?” He gagged.
“At least eat breakfast in the morning.” He winked at Esther and mouthed – feed him.
Forget me not when words fly in the night sky ~ Forget me not as music flows and commitment grows ~ Forget me not as demands increase time begins a decrease ~ Forget me not with a song in your heart as you practice your art ~ Forget me not as you shoot for heaven life begins to leaven ~ Forgot me not a simple plea when time starts to flee
*Bois d’ arc aka Lions Mane, A poetic conversation, 2024.
Since the time his mother called, he had turned off his phone. Esther was in the kitchen heating up some leftovers. “Look at this.” Oscar laid his phone on the table. He had ten missed calls from her, three from his sister-in-law, five from Doris (as if he would even call Doris back), and twenty-five text messages from his mother. “What do I do with them?” He sat down at the table utterly deflated.
“Have you read any of them?”
“I haven’t the heart.”
“I think you need to save them.”
She handed the phone back to him, “more covering my ass?”
“Afraid so.”
“I’m done Esther. I’m so done. No more trying to have a relationship with people that aren’t real. No more worrying about what they think or how they feel. I have told myself on many occasions that I will get to know my nephews when they come through my class and looks like that is going to be the case, nieces if I have any. He spun the phone around in circles. “I have tried to remind myself that mom is mentally ill. That she can’t help this. But she is doing the hardest job known to man, she is raising my nephews. Tell me how you can be crazier than a Bess bug and raise four children.”
“Do you think it’s all an act?”
Oscar looked at her with disgust on his face, “God help me I’ve thought of that.” He rubbed his fingers through his hair. “But I was with her two of those times she got put in the hospital. I saw and she told me the things she did. It can’t all be an act.”
“Maybe having the responsibility of the children is keeping her grounded?”
“I’ve thought of that too.” He let out a long sigh, “am I a bad person?”
She held her hands out for him across the table, he took them. “No, my love, you are not a bad person. You want what every child wants. That’s why grown adults that have been adopted spend their entire life time’s seeking their biological parents. It is the rare child indeed that can say they don’t care.”
“Is that what I’m saying?”
“No, what you’re saying is treat me like an adult and I will treat you like one. I’m not a cash cow, you can’t abuse me whenever you want, I’m a person too.” He just sat there, lost in nothingness. “What can I do?”
He got up from the table and walked out the front door. She followed him to the door to see where he was going. He started walking toward the lake; it was plain to her that he was going to talk to his dad. She cleaned up the kitchen from the not touched dinner, then got in her jeep and followed him. He was sitting on the bench with his head in his hands. She put a blanket around his shoulders.
“Dad would be so mad at me.” He snubbed.
“Tell me why?”
“I had my brother put in jail. I’ve abandoned my mom.”
“You didn’t have your brother put in jail. And your mom abandoned you a long time ago.”
Oscar looked her right dead in the eye, “did you have him arrested?”
“No, I text Chet for help. I told him your brother was there, he was drunk and creating a scene. Oscar your brother did this to himself. Drivin’ under the influence is against the law. He assaulted you, again, against the law.”
“I just can’t help feeling there was something I could have done differently.”
“Okay, let’s start from the beginning. Why did you let him in?”
“At first, I didn’t know he was drunk. He always smells like beer.”
“Why did you text me?”
His voice quivered, “I needed,” he took her hand in his. “I needed.” With her free hand she caressed his cheek, she didn’t say a word. Didn’t need to. He took a deep breath, “you make me stronger. I knew that if things went bad you would know what to do.”
She placed a light kiss on his cheek, “be mad at me if you have too. Be mad at Chet. But don’t you dare be mad at yourself. You didn’t do anythin’ wrong.”
“Then why does this hurt so much?”
“Because you care about them. Because you love them.” He fell against her shoulder.
“Let me take you home.” After several minutes, he stood, holding out his hands to her.
Once at the ER, Oscar told them everything that Chet told him to say and little else. As he was being examined, Esther busied herself writing her statement. It had been a long time since she had written one of them. But like they say; it was like riding a bicycle, once you learn you never forget. It all came back with amazing speed. As Oscar was coming back to the waiting room, she was e-mailing her report to Chet.
“What did they say?” He sat down beside her.
“Pretty much you are right. I have a laceration on the inside of my left nasal cavity. They gave me a script for an antibiotic and as it were, sent me home.”
She put her hand on his thigh rubbing it softly. “This is snowballing.”
“Sweetheart, this is just insurance; incase he tries to claim that either of us pushed him down the steps or that you attacked him. If he is able to get the upper hand, think about what that could do to your teaching career.”
Oscar shuttered. “Until today, I would have told you that it was nothing to worry about, that Oat was just a blow hard nothing more. Now I don’t know.”
“You told me that you didn’t know him. Perhaps this is really who he is?”
Oscar looked shocked at the very suggestion. But then he remembered all the times that Oat had stopped by his house smellin’ of beer.
“Let’s go get your script filled.”
He softly shook his head and she pretty much guided him out the door. He felt drunk. As if he was living in a nightmare.
They sat in the parking lot of the drug store waiting on the pharmacy. “Do you want to go get something to eat?” Esther almost whispered.
“No.” Oscar took a deep breath and leaned his head back against the seat. “What in God’s name did she tell him?”
“From the sounds of it, she is tryin’ to pit the two of you against each other. And it worked. To what end, I don’t know.”
“How could you tell I was getting upset?”
She looked confused, “what?”
“At the house when I was getting mad at Oat and you told me not to get mad; how could you tell?”
“Oh,” she smiled, “your face was becoming flushed and your nostrils were flaring.”
“Why didn’t you want me to sit down?”
“That would have given him the advantage. He would have attacked you sooner.”
Oscar put his hands over his face and let out a long slow sigh, “I can’t believe this.” He jumped as his cellphone rang. It was his mother. He put the call on speaker so Esther could bear witness to this conversation.
“Hi,” was all he said.
“So you had Oat arrested?” She scolded.
“No, I had nothing to do with it.”
“You don’t sound surprised that he was arrested.”
“It was bound to happen someday.”
“You son of a bitch, don’t you care for your brother?” Esther’s eyes got as big as quarters. “That sheriff is supposed to be your friend. Call him and get your brother out of this.”
“No.”
She went on a cussin’ fit that would make a sailor blush and called Oscar everything but a man. “You want him to spend the night in jail like a common criminal?”
“If he deserves it, yes.”
Another cussin’ spree ensued. “He has babies at home to take care of!” She shouted.
“His getting arrested was a direct result of his actions.”
“I always knew you were callous but I had no idea you were so mean. Doesn’t it matter to you that your brother has a criminal record now!?”
“Again, a direct result of his actions.”
Esther was proud of Oscar. He wasn’t losing his temper and he wasn’t sliding into a panic attack.
“Why hasn’t that son of a bitch set bail? I will go get him.”
“I have no idea.”
She went on yet another cussin’ spree.
“May I ask you something?” Oscar questioned.
“What?” She growled.
“What did you tell Oat that had him so mad at me?” There was silence. Oscar looked over at Esther. “He kept going on about me taking everything dad had and leaving y’all with nothing. Where would he get an idea like that? You know as well as I do that when dad died he didn’t have anything.”
Silence. Oscar scoffed, “she hung up.” He showed the phone to Esther. And indeed, she had ended the call.
Esther never said a word. She figured that if he wanted to talk he would. It was obvious that his heart was breaking. He had tried to have a relationship with his family but they were so jealous of him they couldn’t stand it.
Oscar finally spoke, “what do you think she told him?”
“From the conversation with you, I think she told him that you took everything your dad had. He seems to think that your dad bought you the house you live in, paid for your education, bought your SUV, and that you took all of his money to do it with leaving him nothing.”
“Dad didn’t have anything.”
“I understand that. But I doubt that a drunkard did.”
They picked up Oscar’s medicine and left.
Once they had arrived back home, he took her by the hand. “I want to show you something.” He led her to the den and sat down in front of a computer monitor. He then guided her to his lap. “Please don’t be put out with me. I gave myself a Christmas present.” He wiggled the mouse and the monitor came to life. It was a security system. “Camera one is of my front door. Camera two is of my back door. Camera three is on the light pole in front of your house pointed at my house. Camera four is on that same pole pointed at your house.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I wanted to make sure all of the bugs were worked out of the system before I did.” He rewound the data from today that was saved and they watched as Oat flipped them off, turned, and then fell down the steps. A copy of all the days feed was burnt to a c.d. for Chet.
“I think it’s sweet that you want to protect me.” She finally decided to take his gesture as an act of kindness and not an act of creepiness.
“I was afraid you would think I was being a peeping Tom.”
She stroked his hair. “Thank you.” The c.d. ejected and he put it in a sleeve writing Chet on the cover. “Do you need me to leave?”
“No, that’s the last thing I want.”
Later that night, Chet stopped by. “Just checking on you.”
“Thanks my friend, I’m okay.”
He handed Chet the c.d., “this might be useful.”
“Your mother is livid. She’s mad that the judge hasn’t set bail so she can get her baby out of jail. He’s going to stay there the night.”
Oscar pretty much fell on the couch, “this day has been one massive nightmare.”
Esther handed them both a cup of coffee. “Thanks,” Chet took a deep breath of the steam rolling off the cup. “Your report was amazin’. You have written a good many of them in your life time and it shows.”
“Thanks,” she sat down beside Oscar.
Chet finally sat down as well, “is there anything I can do? Do you need anything?”
“A family that doesn’t suck would be nice.”
Chet and Esther just looked at each other with sympathetic glances.
“What’s next?” Oscar let out a long sigh.
“That’s up to your brother. We’ve covered all your bases. Now it’s time for him to make the next move.” Chet finished his coffee and bid his friends good night.
Whoo hoo! Girls trip. My pseudo sister lives about 2 hours and 15 minutes away from me. My bestie (her mom) and I had plans to drive up and spend the day with her. Her dad was already in this town for a meeting.
I’m gonna drive. Which stresses me a little. Several years ago, I had a panic attack driving in a snow storm. And this has kinda morphed into driving in larger cities. The best way to get over this is to just drive. Right?
We had a great day. Even though I missed one of our exits and went 30 minutes out of our way. And a street sweeper tried to run me over. We ate brunch, shopped, ate dinner.
And then….
On the way home is where it all went wrong.
I have a key wad. All of my life I’ve been told not to drive with a key wad hanging off your ignition; it will damage it. My car key slips on and off this key wad. I always put my key wad in the cup holder of the console. No keys. They are not in the driver side door pocket. Or the passenger side door pocket.
They are not in the cubby holes where I keep c.d.s and sunglasses, ink pens and lotion. I dump my purse in the driveway, nope. They aren’t in either glove box. Yes, I have 2 glove boxes. Why? I don’t know.
“You left them hanging in the door.”
This is not out of the realm of possibilities. “No, I don’t think so. I remember double checking that the door was locked and shutting the screen door.”
When we stopped to buy gas, we check under all the seats. Just incase when I went to throw them in the cup holder, I missed and they slid under the seat. Nope.
As I shut my car off at the gas pump, it acted funny. I brushed it off, pumped my gas. The stress of finding my house keys was paramount. ‘What did I do with them?’ I dumped my purse out a second time in the backseat of my car. The answer was still no. No keys.
We get back in the car. The thoughts racing through my mind were; I’ve laid them on top of the car and lost them between my house and my besties. Or someone found them in the driveway and cleaned my house out; taking Chico with them. This rabbit hole is deep. A basement key is part of the wad and my basement was wiped out as well. Told you that rabbit hole was deep.
As I turn the key in the ignition, my car won’t start. Holy sheet. I’m in a town where I know no one. My bestie is with me. Her husband and daughter are miles behind us. Crap!
“You didn’t pump diesel did you?”
For what ever reason, this truck stop had a diesel hose on each pump. “Did I? Sweet Lord I pray not.” I raise up in my seat looking at the pump. “Did I? Sheet!”
I try to start the car again, it’s almost like fuel isn’t getting to the motor. I race the engine a few times. Then decided it’s best to move from the pumps. We circle to the parking area. The car seems to be doing okay. So we chance continuing the drive home, praying all the way. “Dear God please let us make it home.”
On the drive, it hits me. “My house keys are in the snack bag. That’s why I think I put them in my purse.” My bestie can’t reach the snack bag. It is all the way in the back of the car. I am NOT about to stop. So for another hour and 15 minutes; I keep telling myself, ‘your keys are in the snack bag’. For those of you reading that might not know about a snack bag; so that we wouldn’t overspend on junk food, I packed a bag with mostly chips and pretzels. I took a cooler because we took fish for dinner and put some drinks in it.
Once we made it to my besties house, YES. The keys were indeed in the snack bag.
I wasn’t about to shut my car off, what if it doesn’t start back?
When I made it home, I tried restarting my car a couple times and it started right back.
God guided us home.
This morning as I was getting dressed for our fun day; a light bulb blew in my closet.
Oat turned at the end of the porch and flipped them off, turned to leave and fell down the steps as Oscar slammed the door behind him.
Esther went with him to the bathroom. After he washed his face, “let me see.” She took her finger and gently pushed at his nose from his fore head to the tip of his nose. “Tell me when it hurts.”
“The tip is a little sore.”
Then she went down the right side.
“No.” When she made it half way down the left side of his nose, he flinched in pain.
“Yeah.”
“Your nose isn’t broken. I think he stuck his finger up it.”
Oscar smiled, “all of that and all he did was stick his finger up my nose?”
“Sweetheart, he was drunk.”
Oscar touched the left side of his nose, “yeah that hurts.”
She kissed the tip of his nose. “I’m sorry.”
He hugged her, holding her close. “Thank you so much.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
He looked deep into her eyes, “you did more than you will ever know.”
The doorbell rang and it was Chet. “How are you?”
They all sat in the living room. “Disturbed.” Oscar shook his head.
Esther took a deep breath, “Oscar, I think you really need to considered getting a restraining order on Oat.”
He looked confused, “why would I do that?”
“Please forgive me, but your brother is a piece of work. I have no doubt that he will try to get an EPO on you.”
“He’s spending the night at least in jail.” Chet spoke, “his blood alcohol was three times the legal limit. The Amanda Law has changed EPO’s and DVO’s. Siblings can’t get them on each other.”
“But your county attorney might sign it anyway just to get Oat out of his face.”
“No, I don’t see that happening. James’s wife was a victim of domestic violence by the hands of her first husband. He is too aware of the consequences to do that.”
“I still say you need to put ink to paper in some form to keep this from coming back to hurt you.” Esther encouraged. “What about an assault charge?”
“And say what,” Oscar was getting annoyed, “that he was so drunk that when he tried to break my nose all he managed to do was poke his finger up it? How embarrassing!”
Chet looked at Esther wild eyed, “what?”
“He swung at Oscar twice and missed. When he figured out a direct hit wouldn’t work, he lunged at Oscar pushing him backwards on the couch. I got him off and pinned him to the floor. Oscar’s nose was bleeding. I don’t think it’s broken. I think all Oat managed to do was ram his finger up Oscar’s nose. Oscar told him to leave, that he couldn’t come back. As he was leaving, he fell down the steps.”
“The arresting officer said that he has a scratch on his forehead, his nose and the palm of his right hand. He also tried to fight the arresting officer and was cussin’ you every breath. There was a Jack Daniel’s bottle and two empty fifths of Jim Beam in the floor board of his truck.”
Oscar let out a long sigh, “now what?”
“I want you to go to the ER and have that nose checked. Tell them I sent you and make sure they fax me a copy of the report.”
“Why the ER?” Oscar was exasperated.
“Esther, help me.” Chet implored.
“I’ll do my best.” Oscar just stared at her. She wasn’t even sure that he saw her. “Honey, I want you to be protected. I don’t trust your family as far as I could pick any of them up to throw them. Please,” she held his hands in hers. “Protect yourself.”
“Will you come with me? This is so embarrassing.”
“You know I will,” she gave him a reassuring smile.
Poetry & More 