The Summer Of 1993

The Downward Spiral

Maddie was in middle school and Jackie was in grade school, we used Linda's address for them to do so, so it meant early mornings to drop them off. Maddie liked Linda and Linda gave her $5 a week for her helping with the kids. Linda was great. They sort of saw our kids as grandkids. However, Maddie was beginning to know she was poor. We were. We had nice things, but it was hard to come up with lot rent, groceries, and things like that. "Do you think they will sell?" Bruce would ask. However, one afternoon, we got "the letter". We had four months. The home we had called home for so long was being sold and our credit was terrible. I did find a house, but it was way south and the drive to Linda's was going to be long. My parents, who weren't very happy with us at the times, let us buy a house in a nit so good area of town. It was old. It was next to a vacant house and a house where people came and went. I kept the doors locked most of the time. At night, when we both worked, I made Maddie and Jackie keep the door locked, and too poor for a phone, I called them every hour on the hour, which pissed one of the managers off. Money was hard ti come by. This house, even what I paid for it cost me way too much and for the first time, I was a frequent flyer at the Coombs Street United Methodist Church's food bank. Maddie NEVER complained. Jackie whined. I bought bean burritos wit dimes. We were so broke.

"It is YOUR fault why we're live here, all the charging of clothes, all the makeup your bought," he yelled at me. However, he never got me a trick of jewelry.  I bought things that made me happy.   I had no love.  He went jail for this theft.   He always yelled and it was loud. Even whoever lived next door, asked me if I was okay. There was a couple with some kids, from Tennessee and I felt safe for a very short time. They were new in town, just found a place. The only bright spot of the summer of 2006 was going to see Marsha, but after that, EVERYTHING went to shit. On a cool evening, Steve came home early. "I got fired. They say I am stealing, but I haven't they trying to frame me. Look, I will stay home with my girls I will,be the best famed father to them." He tried. His friend, Grant got him a job at Orchard Fields Country Club, so he worked a lot of weekends and when I was done closing at ten, I had to wait up until one or two to pick him up. I called Marsha a lot. Marsha sent money. She even would tell me, "You are so beautiful. Find yourself a good man." However, I was fatter than ever. My work skirts were getting tighter. The Mazur's were very looks oriented and they didn't like that my skirt was getting tighter. They kept me but they didn't treat me like one of the stars anymore. Our marriage was blah. I was bored and I was looking, but the cute ones were beginning to ignore me. It was a lot of men with baggage or I was JUST not interested in. John Rossington was that man. He came in with his folks. He found me in social media and told me how much he liked me and that "one day you will get divorced, and I will be here for you". He scared me. He was creepy. He tried hard. I talked to Jamie from time to time, but I was ashamed I ever knew a doctor. I news working nights at a place thwt was falling apart. I closed on Friday and Saturday night and I saw NO WAY OUT. Plus, Jamie would begun her messages, "I thunk you need help for your depression". I wasn't like Gabrielle Renault. I was fine. I wasn't crazy, life just sucked! I didn't think much about Johnny. He would not know me.   I didn't know me.

   
       For a time, things did lookup.  My husband worked at Fiagro's as a server and I did my. Ironing's at Arby's and evenings at The Farmer's TAble.  I did have to tweak the hours so I could take and pick up my husband, but at the Farmer's Tbsle, it was all older people and we closed at nine.   However, Figaro's closed.  It was a rough time, because i had to cart my bus and around to look for a job and he was NOT doing fast food.  I had a mortgage and I was barely making it.  There were times I thought of Johnny and wished he would have fought for me to stay.  I could avoid almost being homeless, not having food, and thinking bad thoughts about someone.   It was a cool, fall night.  My husband did a stint in jail over the summer for the theft,  but he was on probation.   It was a month or so.  It suchked and he used that time for his advantage and my gullibility.  

    It was a warm November night and he wanted to "talk" to me.  I knew he was hell bent on having another child, a son.  Someone who could pass on his sperm.   I was blogging, as I got to be a pretty good blogger about being a wife who worked two jobs trying to make ends met.  I got proposals , but from older, creepy men I never could have considered.  After all, I was sort of dating Johnny Depp.  Why would I want a creepy man from central Indiana?  

   "I need to talk to you," he told me.
"Why?"
"I do.  Let's talk."

   So we go to the front porch of our home, life whizzing by.   I wish I were just passing by. 

   "Look, I have been meaning to talk to you,' he began.  I said, "Girl, brace yourself."
"Yeah."  I was so disinterested. 
"Look, when I was I. Hail they did medical tests on me. "
"Really?"
"Yes.  I am dying, Susan.  Dying,"
"You are not dying."
"I have six, seven years left."

   In a weird way, I was happy,  I could be free.  I was not obligated to drive him around.  I was not obligated to be ashamed because he was fired and went to jail.  He was running out of friends to give him jobs. 

    We had sex that night, but I was waiting for his death,.... I could be free.