Agoraphobia

Day 35 - 39 (Bad Dad House)

In the beginning, tensions were high, and tempers were short. The lack of air conditioning didn't help; the Main House was steeped in sweat and open aggression. In many ways, it was analogous to life in prison.

Privacy was largely a thing of the past. The walls were thin, and the vents conducted sound far too well. It was difficult to keep secrets.

Everyone, for example, could hear Penny crying her self to sleep about her cats.

Everyone could hear Marta crying about her husband, Wan, who was missing and presumed dead.

Everyone knew Candice was having nightmares about her dead parents.

Everyone knew Nick imtroxousized Uncle Peter for not rescuing his girlfriend.

Everyone knew Great-Grandpa Ned was constipated.

Everyone knew Uncle Peter and Aunt Roxanne had stopped having sex.

Everyone knew Holly and Martin were STILL having sex.

Everyone knew Leslie felt guilty for loving Colin and Gina more than her "real" parents.

And, most disturbing of all, everyone knew Anthony was verbally abusing his girlfriend, Jodi. It varied in severity, but almost every night, Anthony would scream at Jodi's kids until they left the bedroom, crying. Then he'd focus his attention on Jodi. Loudly. Graphicly. Apparently, their relationship had always been like that.

Anthony spent much of his time pacing about the house and scowling while shifting a toothpick from one corner of his mouth to the other. I tried not to look him in the eyes, but when I did, they held a disconcerting gleam.

Jodi was of average height and average build. She kept her hair short and simple. Her undistinguished face was not particularly pretty nor unattractive. She was mostly a blank space. She possessed forgettable features abused women develop after years of trying to go unnoticed.

Anthony had the run of the house. But Jodi was a room-agora, trapped in her bedroom. A prison within a prison. Uncle Peter, Grandpa Kevin, and my mother tried to talk with Jodi. But she inexplicably blamed herself for the abuse. Attempts at reasoning with Anthony also failed. He didn't see why it was anyone else's business how he "dealt with his woman".

Once I overheard Beth and Nichole talking as they stocked the cellar... "Anthony is crazy," whispered Beth. "He should be locked up."

"We're all locked up." scoffed Nichole.

----------------------------------------------------

At the same time, Aunt Roxanne's father, Nick, was also driving up tensions. A dark cloud followed him. He was snippy with everyone, and he complained incessantly. Perceived bias angered him. And he perceived bias everywhere.

"Why does Jimmy get a bigger bed?!" Nick demanded to know while I was close enough to overhear. He was all taunt energy, like a windup toy waiting to be let go.

"Jimmy shares it with Nichole," explained Grandpa Kevin.

"So I'd have a bigger bed if your son had not murdered my girlfriend?!"

"That's not—"

"Why am I even bunking with these strangers?! Why wasn't I put in my daughter's room?!"

"A lot of factors went into assigning peo—"

"If you'd bothered to ask me, I would've told you MY solution!"

"What's your solution, Nick?" asked Grandpa Kevin indulgently.

"Make the medium-sized storage room on the second floor into my room."