*This one's not worth a title, it wouldn't be kind.
Wow, did he have a sense of humor! I have never been attracted to a red head before. He was suave and came from a nice family. He was from Queens, N.Y. and liked to talk tough. You could tell by his large vocabulary that he was quite intelligent. He swept me off my feel, quite like a whirlwind.
Whirlwind it was. We met in boot camp, in Orlando, Florida, December 1987. We'd mail letters and hope we didn't get caught since fraternizing was taboo. I got stationed in Millington, Tennessee for air traffic control school while his A school was in Orlando. I caught wind of when he was taking leave and dropped out of air traffic control school two weeks before graduation so I could spend a week of leave with him in New York. It worked out well, I got to come to Maine and see my family for a week, then off to see him for the other week. His duty station was Norfolk, Virgina, I put that as my first request for mine, NAS Oceana in Virginia Beach as my second. After spending a week in New York, I went to my duty station in Virginia Beach. It was a long week but at least there were phone calls. Finally he arrived in Norfolk, he had promised to look me up. The next day he shows up at my door and we go for a ride. He asks, "what do you want to do tonight?" I replied, "I don't know, what do you want to do?" By my surprise, he says, "Let's get married!" Wow, eighteen and stupid, I tell him let's wait a week. Six days later, we're married! His mother about killed us! His father was pissed! Ironically, my father thought I was kidding when I told him, since we got married on April 1st!
Two weeks later I conceived our first son. I live in the barracks and he's on a ship. I scrape by on $800 a month and save for an apartment while he spend his on beer. Fourth of July weekend, we get an apartment. Wow, talk about fireworks! That's when the physical abuse started! What a fake m.f. he cried and was so apologetic!
He'd come home late or not at all and give me some bullshit story like he didn't have a ride. I walked into the club in Norfolk only to witness him working his charm on some skank sitting on his lap. My 5 month pregnant belly didn't seem to matter to either of them. So I kindly inform her, that's my husband she sitting on! He would have taken first place in a track meet, the speed he sprinted out that back door. Another night, looking for him, I went to a Go Go bar and the woman knows him by name! Excuses and bullshit was all that could come out of his mouth. So much for the sense of humor. He wasn't so funny and charming anymore!
Mr. Charm charmed his way onto the local police department when we moved to Pennsylvania. His intelligence helped him pass the psychological exams to get in. Yet, he could come home, beat his wife to the point of black eyes and stitches, and put his uniform on in the morning to serve and protect!
I lived that hell for 6 1/2 years. His girlfriend of one year was the last straw. I took my two little guys and moved back to Maine. It didn't take long after leaving to realize the sense of humor and charm was a cover up for the insecure, sick man that he is.
To say he is the last person I would want to remember would be too nice, he is, though, the first person I'd love to forget!
Whew, that gives the reader a ride. In a traditional narrative like this, there is a dark cloud of foreboding over everything from word 1. We know we wouldn't be reading at all if it were going to end, 'And so my charming redhead and I lived happily ever after.'
ReplyDeleteAll the reader asks for is that when the cloud finally opens, it doesn't just rain, it pours. You do not disappoint.