Sunday, November 24, 2013

Wow. It's all I can say. I have been one beaten little dawg in these last few weeks between work and home. It has really left me dazed, exhausted, sad ... you name it. I've walked miles in my dining room at night and marathons in my neighborhood trying to keep my sanity and perspective intact; success remains to be seen. I understand life is hard (especially at this phase in my life) and I've never been afraid of hard work ~ in any arena, but I am at a breaking point.  That is scary; truly scary. I have a couple of days on my own at Promises soon; dire need.

So please be a little patient, I'll be back soon and as good as new I hope.

But for now, I just would like a fluffy pillow, my fireplace, and a quiet nap.
Don't hog the blankets but you're welcome to snuggle with me for a while. You're always comfortable.
See you soon.
Love
Tessa

Sunday, November 10, 2013

Bad People

People thought he was a doctor because he was noble and wanted to heal.  He allowed them to think that.  He was merely watching and waiting.  The fact that he worked in crisis centers all over the state was not due to generosity or selflessness.  He was surveying.  Granted, he took delight in mending the broken and helping them get things back to order in their lives.  He had, after all, been given the same gift.  His step-father had taken him in, protected and loved him like his own and seen to it that he had everything he would need to succeed in all his life's endeavors; ALL of them.Ted understood grateful and humble. Since the night his father had been murdered over a few trinkets and some wadded up twenties, Ted had been forced to be watchful, mindful because bad people were everywhere.

The triage was buzzing like crazy tonight; full moon madness was in full swing.


"Aaaand let's take a look behind curtain number two...." he said to himself and stopped. A frail young redhead was curled up on her side,cradling a dislocated elbow and her young son, who had pulled loose a lock of her hair and was soothing himself by tracing it across his cheek.  His black hair covered the worry and fear that haunted his eyes.  Seeing the doctor, both curled tighter around each other. The chart named her Lillie; a lovely delicate name for one who had to be tough as nails to tolerate the thirty four broken bones and fractures; let alone the more than eighty stitches that claimed her body in the last thirteen months.  The boy was Joseph.  He was less marred; lucky to have minor contusions and surface scratches that still could be covered with Elmo and Cookie Monster band aids.  It enraged him to see this; to see her again.


"Hello Lillie." he said softly


"Oh hey Dr.Ted. I didn't know you were working tonight."


He chuffed. "Please don't tell me that you would have come in earlier or that you are just here to see me.  I will make sure you get my office number.  I'd rather see you that way.  Not like this.  What do we have today?  Hey Joseph."


"Hi Dr. Ted. I made a fan." The little fist produced an accordion folded napkin and waved it just under his mother's chin.


"Oh my. That IS handy Joseph.  Some days it gets hot as blue blazes in here."


"Are blazes really hot AND blue?"


"Yes sir they are."


Dr. Ted began his examination of Lillie for the second time in two weeks.  Tonight brought the dislocation, several bruises, a black eye, a boxed ear and angry hand prints around her throat.


"Lillie, what brought this on?"


"I fell"


"Lillie."


"Please Doc. I fell."


He grimaced and clicked his pen in frustration, writing her a prescription.


"Nothing hard." she warned quietly.  "That causes problems"


Ted shook his head and did as she asked, writing for ibuprofen and advising acetaminophen.


"What will it take Lillie? Please don't let him get to Joseph.  You're not protecting him.  It's a matter of time."


"I know Doc.  I'm trying; so hard."


"Can I help you?"


She smiled weakly.  "No charity."


"None."


"Thanks Doc. I have to go.  Shift ends soon. I need to get Joseph something to eat for school tomorrow and we will need to figure out  meals for the next couple of days."


Ted opened his wallet as he had each time she'd been here.  Ever since he'd seen the man's face, he'd been waiting. Ted had kept an eye on Lillie, taken special interest to ensure she was protected as well as her son.  The man was rotten to the core, incapable of compassion, understanding or love.  He was a junk yard dog.


"Please Lillie.  Be careful. Be safe.  this world would sorely miss an angel like you." He tucked the money in her hands, kissed them and stroked her cheek.  He tousled Joseph's hair and left them, frowning as they hurriedly packed up to return to the Hell they called home.


Not three days later, he yanked back the curtain to see Joseph balled up, floating in the abyss of hospital sheets and pillows he'd rearranged around himself.


"Joseph?"


"Dr. Ted!" the tears were instantaneous and the little boy all but flew from the bed to throw himself into Ted's arms.  The doctor encircled him and held his breath, dreading the words he knew would come from the little boy.


"He.. He... Hurt... She... toldmetorun...to hide  to hide TO HIDE. I waited and I waited... but there was no noise and I dint know where to go Dr Ted I don't know where mommy is." The child's voice was choked with sobs picking up speed where the truth was at its worst.  Ted pulled him as close as he could and rocked gently.  His hand stroked the boys hair and he kissed it tenderly.


His own memories came storming back.  The night his father was killed.  The police officer pulling the young Dr-to-be from inside a tiny cupboard where he had stacked toilet paper as the only wall of defense against a darkness more dangerous  than any shadow. Ted was about Joseph's age.  He understood that word: Hide.

It had saved his life from the angry monster with the tattoo on the back of his neck who had shot his dad over his wallet, his watch and his coat.  He had been robbing Ted's house when he and his father had come home from the movies.  They both heard the rustling.  His dad whispering for him to "wait" at first but then there was shouting and a popping noise.  Ted's dad yelled for Ted to hide ~Hide good and then more popping and then his dad yelled "I love you" and the fifth pop made it all quiet. Forever.

Ted stayed hidden.  Inside the little cupboard, he managed to stack rolls of toilet paper in front of himself to make it look like he wasn't there.  He heard the footsteps and the voice.  He heard doors opening and slamming.  He heard swearing and promises to not hurt as long as he never told.  Ted knew these were lies and so he kept hidden.  He was so scared he wet his pants.  He wanted to scream for help but bit into the paper roll  and cried until there were no more tears.  And he waited.  When the door opened, little Ted backed as far in to the corner as possible; disappearing.  The cupboard door shut then opened again.  Someone knelt down and looked between the rolls.  Slowly a hand pulled one away, then another and at last eyes met and Ted saw who would become his foster father and step-dad.  The man offered his hand.  He helped Ted get cleaned up before holding his hand and leading him out.  He never left Ted's side.  Not during the ambulance ride, not during the hospital stay, not ever during any questioning.  never.  Officer Tom, Dad, stayed.  He raised Ted and Ted was happy.


The boy in Ted's arms monkey- wrapped himself around the doctor's body.  Ted could feel him starting to twitch and fall asleep.  A ruckus began in the main lobby; a loud one.


"Where is my SON?" an angry man was slamming his fists on the desk and pointing hatefully at the charge nurse.


Ted pushed the button and stepped out holding Joseph.


"Sir.  Lower your voice." his own was low and soft but carried a warning that caused the other to regain himself.


"Joseph." he sighed and reached for him but Ted twisted away.  The man hesitated.


"Where is Lillie?" he asked.


"What's it to you?" the man sneered and reached again.  Ted put Joseph down and stepped in front of the boy.


"Where. Is. Lillie." Ted was a tall solid man whose mere presence commanded notice; with emotion involved, a whiff of fear was in the air.


"I dunno. I came for my boy. Hey Joey.  C'mere. Let's get somethin to eat, eh? I got off early.  I'm starvin! burgers or pizza?"  the man bent down to his haunches.  Ted fought with a vengeance to not begin kicking Joseph's father while he was down there.  Joseph stepped out and took it.  His other fingers up near his mouth as if to keep words in or a frightened cry.  The man smugly snatched it and stood. "Right. Well, we'll be going. Sorry for the trouble." The man turned and Ted caught his breath. He felt heat surge up from his gut to the top of his head.  His teeth began to grind so hard he thought he'd have nothing but pulp in his mouth if he tried to speak.


"Be careful."he muttered.


"Oh he will." Joseph's dad tightly said and yanked at the boy to hurry.


"I mean you." Ted said quietly.  "See you soon Joseph."


The boy turned and wiped the tear from his cheek.  He blew a kiss, threw a wave and mouthed "Help"


It took Ted three days to get what he needed. He hoped it wasn't too late.  He began by watching the house.  Joseph was up and was taken to school.  Not by the father of course but by some young girl in clothes a baby doll would have trouble fitting into. the father was usually nursing bad habits from the nigh before.  Ted made sure Joseph got home, had something to eat and did his work.  He asked Joseph to not tell. It was as if Lillie had simply disappeared.


The good doctor had given up his extra nights at the clinic to watch out for Joseph.  On that night,  he saw the man pull in and knew.  the car barely jerked to a stop before the man got out and swooped to the side then staggered to the front door. He beat it with his fists and began to shout.  Ted readied himself.  He felt the prick of cold sweat.  He felt his knees begin to shake and his spine fizzled just as it had that night so many years ago when he'd had to hide from this man; the man who'd killed his own dad had mistakenly become one.  Ted was certain because in all the years, after all the questions, Ted never told what the man looked like but he knew and all it took was one glance at the tattoo on the back of the man's neck when he bent down to scoop up the son he didn't deserve to bring Karma around full in the face.  No more hiding.


The shouting was muffled in Ted's ears as his pulse quickened and thundered through his body.  He walked brusquely up the steps and opened the door.  Joseph's dad had the little boy by the collar and was shaking him.  Inches from his face he was spitting while he hollered and threatened, his fist cocked and ready to throw.  He saw Ted and his jaw dropped.  He let the boy go who immediately ran and wrapped around Ted's knees.  The doctor never peeled his eyes off the man but knelt down and spoke softly to Joseph.  He hugged him and stood again.


"Hide Joseph." he said. "Hide good." He felt the lump in his throat; painful and sad.


The other man turned and faced him.  "You don't belong here."


"I do.  More than most."  Ted put his hands in his pockets and gently caressed the gun.


"You a do gooder?  Gonna save that boy?"


"Gonna save THIS one."


The man cocked his head.


"You told me to never tell. I didn't."


"What? What did you say?"


"You told me you wouldn't hurt me if I never told.  I didn't but you killed my dad.  You hurt me anyway."


The man's color drained into the floor.  He gasped as if choked by sawdust.


"You..."


Ted smiled genuinely.  "Yes."


The man backed up and began to stammer. "Look kid. You don't understand.  I didn't mean to do that.  Your old man just had to give me the keys and his money.  He just wouldn't stop coming at me.  I had to.  I HAD to."


Ted took a step closer and removed the gun so it was in full view.  The man began to wave his hands as if to push down a naughty dog.  "Hey hey don't come closer. Don't do this.  Don't rob Joey of a father.  Let me go. I'll be better. I'll get clean. You'll never see me again. Let me go man, I won't tell. Never."


"You're right."


and Joseph heard five pops ~ like firecrackers on Independence day. His eyes slammed shut and his tiny fingers plugged his ears. He imagined the fireworks and they were wonderful. When there was quiet, he heard  footsteps coming toward him; slow and deliberate.  The little boy backed in to the corner of the small space where he was hidden.  The door opened closed and opened again.  The man knelt down and peered in.


"Joseph?"


Nothing.


"It's okay Joseph.  You don't have to hide.  Come out here."


The little boy crept out and into the doctor's arms.


"What do we do?" the boy jammed his fists into his eyes and his voice hitched.


"We call the police and we get you checked out.  I know a good doctor."


"Better than you?" the boy sniffled. "Can you stay with me for a while? Until Mommy comes?"


"Yes. I will make some calls and I will see to that." and Ted felt the pang of loss for this innocent little boy.


Flashing lights and noise began to surround them.  Ted walked out with Joseph on his hip, his phone to his ear as he dialed his own hero.


"Dad?  Need some help..."


The police chief cleared his head from sleepy cobwebs and listened to his step-son as he began to tell.




A little bit longer, but I like the twist. You know I'm all about the twist. I guess because it is never EVER as it seems; whether a person you have known for years or a situation you stumble upon. Face value, is dangerous for both who presents it and who is witness to it.

I'm glad you came by to visit.  I enjoy your emails, comments and especially your company. I have a good one rolling around in my head, but must get it on paper first. I'll see you soon for some more good times. 
Have a good week.
Tess


Sunday, November 3, 2013

Bad and Good.

He was a jerk.  Michael was thoughtless, selfish, needy, careless, and she loved him; fully, passionately, unconditionally. She excused his behavior; laughed when he insulted her.  Tina was a fool.  It wasn't unusual for him to tell her on a date that he had seen someone better looking than her and wanted to buy the woman a drink.  It wasn't uncommon for him to go over and strike up a touchy flirtatious conversation ending with  "I'd LOVE to go home with you or have you come home with me but she's just too unstable; too needy. Hell, she'd probably cut herself."  If he had a meaningful conversation with Tina, it always ended with the pontification that women were just too weak and stupid.  If they would only think with their vaginas and harness that power, they would win the world. Nice and classy.

Should they get to spend a quiet evening at home, Michael would spend it comparing her to the "Beautiful people" on television and listing her physical flaws:

  "You, my dear, DEFINITELY would only fit in Business Class seats!" and smack her rump laughing heartily to himself, shaking his head.  "Good one" he'd mutter.

Tina would quietly go back to the bedroom, inspecting her backside from all different angles.  She would smooth her clothes over her shapely frame, thinking of outfits he would approve of, colors that he liked.  If it wasn't a micro skirt with a plummeting front scoop showing all but her nipples and heels that stank of "Come get me", he considered it marmish.  This he would declare from behind his cigar or over the top of his grand marnier while scratching his ample stomach. To most women, he was a pig.  He could be charming and he was devastatingly handsome, but Michael had somehow mistaken that for a free pass to be a complete douche-canoe.  Tina would sigh or smile softly, working desperately to convince herself he only wanted her to be and look her best. For more than three years she did this. I think it was three years. I guess it doesn't matter now.  From where I sat, which was upstairs from that sweet lovely girl, I would have loved the opportunity to beat some sense in to that jackass.  Countelss nights she would come up to my place, a bottle of alchohol free wine in her hand wiggling her glass a mischievious sideways smile on her pretty mouth.

"Let's totally not get wasted!" she'd hoot and plop down on my couch dumping the grape juice into her elegant glass and taking a hearty swig. I'd sit down next to her and wait.

"Need to vent?"

"Need to scream.  Want to commit sin and spend the rest of HIS life in jail."

She gulped again.

"Why do you do this to yourself Doll? Why do you let him do this to you?  You are miles above him in class, in looks and in humanity.  He has yet to register on the scale.  He...

"...be nice..." she would laugh and gulp some more.  Tina drank but her rule of thumb was"If I really want it, I drink everything else." I quickly understood the value in this.

"Then I have nothing to say." I would pout and she would giggle again, take a drink

We would flip topics, sigh heavily over our lives and its missteps.  We had the relationship she should have had with pathetic Michael. These tender moments when she would lay her head on me and relax; really relax and sleep so sweetly on my chest were burdensome to him.  If it wasn't some hip pounding grunting sex fest he was lost to just what a good time was.  Tina and I laughed over the news, we spoke of our days, we listened to each other.  If not for Michael, we'd have been in love.

I first noticed the sad change when the bottle of wine was real.  She passed out on my couch and threw up the next day.  I moved her to my bed and kept the blinds closed.  I made her a grilled cheese and got her a coke and her sunglasses.  She mustered up strength and went out with the putz beccause he had yelled at her for being stupid.  He had gotten tickets to something then he proceeded to berate her and tell her how embarrassed he was to be with her because of how awful she looked.  He dumped her early, went to console his wounded black heart with another naive lamb and Tina cried in my arms until sunday.  We walked through the park that morning.  We ate lunch and she laughed.  We napped during football games and ordered pizza for supper.  She didn't miss his calls or ignore his texts.  He made none.  He had found something better for now.  I tried not to notice her weight loss.  I chose not to look at the dark circles under her eyes.. I tried my best to make her smile and I relished her laughter which came less and less frequently.

Michael just kept demanding.  He wanted her to be waiting so he could cancel at the last minute.  He insulted her openly and spoke so harshly in public that other tables and couples often stared or winced at her mistreatment.  She cowered like a beaten dog.

I didn't know who was more pathetic.

Tina came less often and when I WAS blessed with her company, she spoke too softly, avoided my eyes and rushed away like a delicate humingbird.  Once in a while Michael would greet me at the door, snear and usher her in.  The berage would begin immediately.  My blood would boil toward him as my heart broke for her.

Their arguing kept me awake and though I'm not one to talk outside of class, I wonder if he began to use his fists as much as he used his mouth.  I heard an awful lot of crying and thumping.  It made him smaller in my mind that he would have to physically and metally abuse someone.

That night I thought they were at it again.  The door slammed after an ugly exchange.  I was drowning my sorrows on the couch, missing my friend, the woman I wanted to hold, protect and love. I waited for her to knock on my door; hopeful that I could mend her wounds; praying I could help her, but it didn't happen. I pouted, drank more and hated Michael. I paced, roamed the halls and cursed him; even fatasized about beating the shit out of him and shouting what an idiot he was for treating her that way before I staggered to my own bed and let the spinning take over.

The pounding on the door forced me to open my eyes.  Sunlight stabbed them.  There was more yelling.  I cupped my head, whispered a vehement "Jesus Christ" and rolled over. It continued and got louder.  At last, I dragged myslef from my bed to the door.  My brain screamed and threw itself agains my skull in a rumbling pulse, even my hands ached. Each joint in my body seemed to shout at me. Blearily taking a survey of myself, I looked like I had lost a rumble in the jungle.  I wandered to the top of the steps and  peered  over the balcony.  "Hey! Can ya keep it to a dull roar you fucked up love birds?"  My voice cracked, my throat dry.  My lips and body trembled from low blood suger and dehydration.  The man in the dark suit threw me.  It was a cop.  He glowered and me, turned and took the steps two at a time; in front of me before I could retract my statement or retreat to my bed.

"Sir" he stated flatly.

"Hey man. I'm sorry. I didn't know..."

"Didn't know what?"

"You were a cop. I didn't know you were a cop. I apologize. I thought you were the couple downstairs."

"Loud were they?" he watched every move I made like a lion ready to pounce.

"Yeah. To say the least.  They were fighting a lot lately.  Well he just yells and I think he throws tantrums... I hope that's all he throws.. "

"You think there is domestic abuse?"

"Wouldn't surprise me but it also wouldn't surpise me to hear Tina wouldn't press charges or admit to a single blow"

The eyebrows went up. "Oh?  You know Ms. Harkins well?"

I thought quicly about what I'd just said.  Had I misspoken? "We are friends."

"Just friends?"

"I'd have loved to date her but she only has eyes for him." I jutted my chin to indicate the voice I heard ~ his.
"I just listened to her rant or vent. I was the friend he should have been."

"Ever argue about that friendship?"

"Huh?"

The officer repeated himself and glared at me.  It made me feel heavy, tired and nauseated. I wanted Advil, water, a grilled cheese and my bed.  Tina would be nice too. I sighed and rubbed my head.  "No. She loves me as a friend.  I guess I'm just one of those guys."

"Loved"

"Huh?"

"tina is dead."

"What?" my stomach lurched. My heart raced to the top of my throat. I grabbed the railing. "What do you mean?"  I heard my voice raising and getting faster. "When? How did this happen? What are you talking about..." I pushed passed him and rushed down the stairs. Ignoring his shouts for me to stop.
I burst through the door and slid in blood. I grabbed at the doorway and shouted her name.  Her body was battered and broken. Her neck at an ugly angle.  Her eyes stared flatly at the ceiling.

"Oh JESUS ~ NO TINA NO!"  I dropped to my knees and held my face.  The tears were hot, burning down my cheeks. I felt bile rise up into my mouth.  I lurched for the closest trashcan and got sick.  The cops grabbed me dragging me and my precious sick can out into the hall.

'LISTEN you idiot! this is a God Damn crime scene!"

I just slumped recklessly the hall saying her name over and over and heaving into the can; a stupor of shock, sadness and intoxication. My beautiufl friend. My secret love. My Tina.

It was the sound of that bastard's voice that drew me  up and back in to this dimension. I almost snapped my neck to catch a glimpse of him.  I shouted and rose up. I began to berate him, spilling my rage as violently as I had done my alcohol from the night before.  I rushed him and began swinging; demanding to know why he'd done it.  Why wasn't it enough to cheat on her, to belittle her in public, to dispise her so openly... 

"You had to KILL HER?"

The police yanked at me, ushering me quickly up to my apratment where I sobbed, paced and told them everything I knew and more that I suspected.  I shared the secrets Tina and I had kept.  When I was done, the police were nodding and flipping looks at each other.

Downstairs, Michael was talking softly.  He spoke of her childish behavior, her neediness and possessiveness.  He talked about how he had tried to break things off but she was desperate and well... too plain to really have anyone else notice her.  He spoke of his chivalrous gifts of attention.  He verbally beat her up even though she was broken unrepsonsive on the floor.  Nothing new. She was defenseless yet again. His claim was that it had been he who had left after the arument.  He'd gone to a strip club to meet a friend but no he didn't know her name.  He just called her "Boots".

The reporters were outside already.  The case drew quite a bit of local buzz.  Michael of course was known in the restaurant world and in all the late night titty bars and slut clubs. All in the biz knew he would pay almost anything for a set of candy apple red lips and big boobs to smear their oiled up bodies on him... and all he'd ever said about Tina was negative and hateful and .. untrue. But it got him some lap dances and a few phone numbers.

I think he was truly shocked to be convicted.  I think he thought his pretty smile and charm would set him free.  He hired a cute little lawyer and whispered in her ear a lot.  she blushed, playfully slapped at him and shook her head.  Yet at the end of it all, she went home.  He went to jail.

Tina actually had a will.  She left me her diary and all of the knick knacks she bought on our silly trips.  In her own writing she said she loved me. She knew who the better man was and she was trying to get out.  She just couldn't walk away from the bad boy.  She thought maybe he would be good and had bet I would understand..

Well those words crushed me. It made me regret that night.  The night I went downstairs after Michael had stormed out.  The night I argued with her and got mad.  The one and only time I did so. I was sad that I had used Michaels scarf to wrap around her throat, furious she didn't love me.  I was miserable that I had used her own knife to cut her, pleading with her to make me stop. Remorse cloyed at my heart when I hastily and carelessly used bleach to smear the DNA evidence around, distorting any chance of a true read,  and wiping up some of the mess with the shirt I'd seen him come home in. Even a pang of guilt knciked at my heart for leaving leaving the bloody shoes in his closet that  I had borrowed the Thursday before.  He never knew because, he was never there. Not like me.

Tina thought the bad boy could be good.  She was dead wrong.


Gotcha! heehee. I really loved how this turned out. I agree with you. It IS broken and creepy. 
:)  Thank you for coming over to sit with me a while. I always enjoy it, and you.  Until next time.

The Lady with the Lantern

 When the fire gets low and the voices quiet, she always comes up.  The lady with the lantern.  Now the stories often vary: She lost her bab...