Pistols and Porn: Fear and Loathing at 12 Years Old (2528 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.9 on 39 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Esso (View user info) at 2004-03-10 13:03:04 EST
"I swear to God I'm going to kill him. I'm going to bash his head in." I squeezed the rubber grip on the hammer tighter, knowing I would do no such thing, but wishing I had the courage to follow through with my pledge. I looked down, away from my Aunt Brenda's eyes, and stared hard at the floor. She stood above me while I sat red faced and teary eyed upon my cousins bed. Not even the Sesame Street sheets and blanket could brighten the room that day.
"Just wait in here, Ben," she said worriedly. There was sadness and understanding in her eyes, but she had to play peacekeeper for the sake of her twin sister, my mother. For my sake as well. "They'll be here any minute. I'll have your mom come talk to you."
Being a child of divorced parents, I had moved around a lot in my life. It was never too far from the San Francisco Bay Area, but from '82 to '89 I had been to six different school districts. After the earthquake that autumn, my father, who had custody at the time, moved my sister and I to Washington State. He and my mother struck a deal in which their two children would fly to California every summer for a month to visit. My father followed through in the summer of 1990, but it would be the last time I'd see my mother for four years.
My sister Carrie and I were picked-up at the airport by my mother and Grandmother. Everyone was smiles, hugs and kisses were exchanged and we drove to Grandma's for dinner. The chicken dumplings were great, but that's the last good meal I remember eating that June.
Mom had us say our good-byes and we drove to her house. Her "house." We pulled up to a dirt road that led to a shantytown. This place was a small circle of shacks that sat across the street from the paper mill and the chemical plant. It reeked of that rotten-egg, smoky odor that paper mills the world over pour out into the sky from menacing looking smoke stacks. Behind this "Circle-the-Wagons" village ran the railroad tracks. I don't know why the decrepit wooden structures didn't just tumble in on themselves every time a train rolled by. Some nail somewhere was doing its job.
As we slowed before the hut that my mother and my youngest brother and sister occupied, she decided to tell us of her new boyfriend, Dow.
"O.k. guys. Dow lives here with me. He might look a little scary, but he's a great guy. He just got out of prison, so you know, o.k.? Be nice to him, he's been really good to me."
Carrie and I looked at each other, slightly worried, but my mom had been with cons before. Maybe this guy wouldn't be too bad. Sure, he had them living in a hovel, but maybe he meant well. We had to tell ourselves that. We were just kids and we were going to be staying here with our mommy for a month. It had to be all right.
Dow came out to meet us as we exited the wood paneled station wagon. He was about six feet tall, maybe two hundred and fifty, two hundred seventy-five pounds. He had a D-Day moustache, slightly balding on top, long hair in the back. The jeans and tank top he wore just added to his felonesque appearance. Still, he smiled. He smiled big and knew both of our names and asked me if I wanted a soda. I told myself this trip just might be all right after all.
The first week was kind of a blur. We visited a lot of our family members. My mother is one of six kids. Each of the six has kids and everybody lived in the area, so we made the rounds to hang out with everyone. I stayed at different cousin's houses each night, just slightly consciously trying to avoid staying within the roach infested lean-to.
Finally, my mom wanted me to stay with her. My Aunt Brenda let my cousin Gene come stay with us and for that I was comforted. That day we played along the railroad tracks, jumping up into stationary freight cars and laying rocks and coins along the tracks. We played war with squirt guns and then came back to the house.
Mom and Dow were gone when we returned. Gene and I each grabbed a Black Cherry Shasta cola and sat down to watch t.v. Gene asked if Dow had any porno. His dad had a huge collection of videos and he wanted me to check if my mom's boyfriend had any we could try to watch while they were gone. I told him to keep an eye out and I stepped into their room.
I didn't have to look too hard, for there in plain view was a huge stack of porn on VHS. I reached down and grabbed the one on top. "Hot Tails." That would do. Then I heard a voice behind me.
"What are you doing?" It was Dow. He sounded more curious than mad. It didn't matter, though. I was scared shitless.
"Nothing," I stuttered as I held the video behind my back. Yeah, that old trick.
"What d'ya got there?" At that I slowly brought the tape from out behind my back.
"A porn, huh? You watch that stuff?" He stared. I nodded.
"Well," he said, "next time you better fuckin' ask me. Go ahead and pick one out. You just can't watch it until after me and your mom go to bed."
I was stunned. I remember getting busted big time by Gene's dad for watching one of his pornos, but now this guy was letting me pick one? Would wonders never cease? I decided to hold on to "Hot Tails." He nodded with a smirk on his face.
"There's some beer in the fridge. If you drink it, do it after we go to bed. O.k.?" What?
"O.k." I said. I couldn't believe this was happening, but I wasn't about to question it. Porn and beer being offered freely? To me? A twelve year old? About fucking time!
That night, Gene and I drank two Budweisers each and watched "Hot Tails." I kept waiting for the trap, but the adults stayed in the room and we partied merrily. By now I was really thinking highly of Dow. What an open minded individual.
Week two went by without too many events. I managed to see everyone in my family by then, so it was basically just playing with the cousins while our parents partied. Gene told the others of our porn and beer night and that piqued the interest of some of the other kids. My cousin Steven asked if he could stay over. His mother and mine agreed that would be fine and in the middle of week three he came out to Wilbur Avenue.
Steven and I ran around the "neighborhood" in much the same way as Gene and I did. The train tracks seemed popular with everyone. We drank cheap sodas and talked about girls and baseball. We walked back to the house and again no one was there. The neighbor walked up and told us he was to watch Steven and I while my mom and Dow were out.
I had met this guy before, a friend of Dow's named Bill. He was a couple inches shorter than Dow, but about fifty pounds heavier. With a full beard and a crazy smile, we liked him instantly. Most of our biker uncles looked the same.
Bill showed us his new complete series collections of that years baseball cards. Don Russ, Fleer, Upper Deck, Score, Topps even. We fawned over them and then he asked us if we'd like to see his new gun. Steven looked at me, smiled, and said yes. Him being the older cousin, I had to agree.
Bill pulled out a small, nickel-plated gun. I couldn't tell you what kind as I know nothing of guns and I don't think he even told us. What he did ask us was, "Do you guys want to shoot this thing?"
We said yes.
I didn't know Jeeps could go that fast. Bill sped us out of town and into the hills of eastern Contra Costa County. We pulled into a dirt driveway and up to a log cabin looking house. Bill drove past the house and out into the surrounding field of yellow grass. He spun the Jeep around suddenly so we were facing the house. There were some old, rusty cars I hadn't noticed before "parked" near the house.
"Let's shoot at those," Bill said.
"Where are we?" I asked. Maybe I was too smart for my own good.
"Oh, this is just a friend of mine's house. We shoot out here all the time. Here," he handed me the gun. "Go ahead and shoot at that car there."
I took the gun from him and, without instruction, pointed, aimed, and pulled the trigger. My arm rocked back and the crack rang in my ears. I was hoping to see glass fly, but there was nothing. Bill seemed pleased nonetheless.
He handed the gun to Steven, who fired a couple of shots. Bill fired some and, after reloading, handed the gun once again to me. We did this for a while when suddenly Bill announced that it was time to go. All three of us jumped in the Jeep and our "babysitter" sped off as quickly as before.
On the way home we cruised down the long stretch of road that is Wilbur Avenue. The roadway marks the industrial area of Antioch, California. Nothing out here but factories, plants, construction material companies, and our little ghetto. Bill whooped it up in a native fashion and pointed the gun into the air. He began to fire off shots. Steven and I laughed. I can't speak for my cousin, but I was nervous. Speeding along in the Jeep, this big stranger firing his gun and drinking Coors Lite, I just wanted to get home alive.
We did and Bill told us not to mention to anyone what we had did that day. We agreed to keep the secret and walked back to my mom's place. The rest of the night was quiet. That is, except for the ringing in my ears.
The next night no cousins were staying the night and no plans were made for me to stay anywhere else, so I was home with Mom and Dow. Carrie was at our Grandma's house and after the events of the past couple of weeks I felt emboldened. I walked up to Dow and asked, for some reason I do not know since I hadn't discovered masturbation just yet, the following question:
"Would you buy me a porn magazine?"
"Sure," Dow said. "Which one do you want?" This was easier than I thought! My dad would have beaten the hell out of me for even having a dirty magazine, let alone asking him to purchase me one.
"Hustler," I said. It was more a question than a statement. I was actually asking, "Which one should I get?" What did I know about porn? I trusted an ex-con in these matters.
"Fuck that! Hustler's dirty shit. I'll get you a Penthouse. Let's go." And with that we drove down to the liquor store and he bought me the newest issue of Penthouse Magazine. My mom didn't necessarily approve of her boyfriend buying her son a jerk book, but she went along with it. Maybe she thought that if she could only see me once a year she might as well let me have fun. Or maybe it was because Dow said yes. I don't know. But she did ask me not to look at it until they were in bed. I did as requested.
And still everything was fine. Sure, I hated staying at that place. I hated that my mom was "out" most of the time I was there. I hated sleeping on couches, on floors, or sharing beds. But I was drinking beer, watching porn, shooting guns. This was the kind of stuff my dad would never even dream of exposing me to. That probably made it all the sweeter.
Week four arrived. Carrie and I had only a few days left there in sunny California. I went to stay one last time with cousin Gene out at my Aunt Brenda's house. They lived in the country, across the street from the tomato fields, a huge backyard, empty roads. A perfect place for some young boys to play. We wrestled, we road bikes, and we beat-up Gene's little brother. Family fun.
The next day I woke up early to eat breakfast with everyone before Mom was to come pick me up. I sat down to a plate of pancakes and bacon with a glass of milk when the phone rang. Aunt Brenda walked away from the griddle to answer.
"Hello? Hey, Beck. What? Wha...Shit! O.k. O.k. I'll let him know." She looked over at me and hung up the phone. I chewed my syrupy pancake and sipped on some whole milk.
"Ben, you're Mom's going to be a little late picking you up."
"Why," I shouldn't have asked.
"She and Dow got in a fight yesterday. She tried to get in the car and leave, but he chased her out there with a crowbar and started hitting the car. He smashed it up pretty good. They made up, though. They're just trying to get the car together to drive over here."
I dropped my fork. Everyone was looking at me. This guy had threatened my mother. My sister was there. No one harmed my mom. No one scared my sister. This asshole was a dead man.
I rose from the kitchen table and walked out to the garage. I grabbed my uncle's hammer and walked back into Gene's room. I sat on the bed and plotted. As soon as they pulled up I would have my Aunt Brenda tell Dow I wanted to talk to him. When the scummy motherfucker poked his head through that doorway, I would pound the hammer into his dirty face and not stop until there was just an unrecognizable mess on the top of his fat, stinky body. The son of a bitch was going to die.
My aunt stepped into the room a little later. She did her best to calm me down, but I would not give up the hammer. I wanted blood. I knew I wouldn't be able to do it when the time came, but I was praying for the balls to destroy a deserving individual.
Finally I heard a car approach and come to a stop before the house. I waited in the room silently, weighing the hammer in my hand. My mom stepped through the door.
"Ben, Dow isn't here."
"Where is he," I asked through grinding teeth.
"He's in jail. He tried to come after me again today and Aunt Tina and me called the cops. They came and got him. You don't have to worry, o.k.?" She looked at the hammer then back up at me.
I laid the hammer on the bed and got up and hugged her. She said everything was going to be fine. They were over, her and Dow, and there would be nothing to worry about. I asked what would happen if he got out. She told me he violated his parole, so his release would not be for a long, long time. I smiled and tasted my tears.
Carrie and I flew back to Washington two days later. My father picked us up from the airport and asked how our trip was. My sister and I looked at each other. We were sad. We were tired. We were glad to be home. But we loved our mom with all our hearts. To say anything bad about our trip to my dad would have meant a cancellation of next summer's excursion. I could only hope that next year things would be different. How was I to know Mom would disappear?
The fact is I didn't know. Sure, I may have had a crazy time down in California that summer. I may have seen and done things that no twelve year old should be doing. I may have known deep down that my mom, while "out," was snorting up speed, smoking weed, and just all around drugging up. Hell, a lot of people in our family were doing that shit. That's why my dad took off north.
What it boils down to is that I wanted my mom to love me. I wanted her to be there for me. And I was scared that if I "told on her," so to speak, I might not be able to see her anymore. She might not love me anymore. I wouldn't have a mommy anymore.
"Ben, I asked how was your trip?" Dad again. I looked over at my sister.
"It was a blast, Dad," I said, holding tears back with a large smile. "We had a blast."
User Reviews
Submitted by esso_merda (user info) at 2004-03-23 23:35:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
cellar,
She went on a drug abusing spree that lasted about four years. She finally went to rehab, then to college and now she's an RN who's working on becoming a hospital administrator. Very proud of her.
Submitted by cellar_door (user info) at 2004-03-23 20:37:24 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
God, even after another go, this story is still hard to read. Where exactly did your mother go anyway?
Submitted by esso_merda (user info) at 2004-03-23 18:39:41 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Hey smokey,
I ain't mad at ya'. Lawryde already knocked me down the Best Ever list.
I'll check that website out. Not to sound cheesey, but it's great when people help children. Having been in some rough situations myself, I totally appreciate the fact that there are those who want nothing but to give kids a chance at a good life. My hat's off to your folks.
Submitted by smokymtcsw (user info) at 2004-03-23 16:08:51 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
and another
Submitted by smokymtcsw (user info) at 2004-03-23 16:08:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You must be kidding. It was not supposed to be a zero...
Submitted by smokymtcsw (user info) at 2004-03-23 16:08:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Hey Loki,
I was honored to be the first to give this the well deserved plus two.
Esso,
Check out www.wvr.org My parents have a home and school for kids from difficult home situations. I am so sad about the pain parents cause their kids, but it is great that your dad pulled you guys out.
Submitted by lawryde (user info) at 2004-03-23 15:53:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by quack (user info) at 2004-03-14 10:20:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
nice.
Submitted by oddbob (user info) at 2004-03-12 08:10:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
That was excellent, everything just fitted together. Great writing, great story.
Submitted by maleficent1 <Maleficent1111.at.yahoo.com> at 2004-03-11 04:50:15 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
amazing--so well written-touching and funny at same time, nice work
Submitted by Nobb (user info) at 2004-03-11 04:32:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by cellar_door (user info) at 2004-03-11 00:52:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This was sad. This was therapuetic I hope?
Submitted by Jaineix (user info) at 2004-03-10 22:01:11 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
There are some things that you wish you had a clever remark to tell, or a story to share. This is one of those things and I can relate, but I'll never know.
Submitted by esso_merda (user info) at 2004-03-10 20:33:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
I believe the numbness comes from having to fend for myself for many years while growing up. We were told to go out and play and then returned to find ourselves locked out of the house. I was made, at ten years old, to babysit my recently born brother and two year old sister while my folks went out and partied it up for hours. After my father took us away, things became more stable. We stayed in the same school district and house until we graduated. Adults would watch us when he could not due to work. My life had become what some would call normal. People tell me I'm strong for going through what I have and not coming out worse for the wear. I don't know if I'm strong. I believe I just bounced back before the worst of it could set in.
Thank you for your feedback on the story. It was easier to write than I thought it would be and I am kind of relieved that most everyone liked it. I hope I can keep it up.
Submitted by loki (user info) at 2004-03-10 20:00:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I read this again now that I'm not at work and can get through the whole thing without having to minimize it when someone comes by. This is one of the best descriptions of those sort of universal fringe quarters of the country where kids are just allowed to run loose in this adult-free lord of the flies way I've ever seen. Where is smoky, he should have some good commentary on this.
What strikes me is both the emotional detachment and the consistency of the perspective of that of a young boy being forced to take on too much responsibility.
There is a stream of consciousness almost trancelike quality of the descriptions that convey a sense of numbness and resignation.
I can see a number of places here that would have been very easy to jump character but you stayed very consistent. What I mean by that is that looking back on it with the eyes of an adult, there are blanks that you can fill in now that you are no longer that 12 year old kid. Just reading it, there are blanks that I can fill in but a kid would be more likely to just observe rather than interact. Take that scene in the Jeep. You describe perfectly the sensation of being old enough to know that you were in a dangerous situation, but too young to do anything about it.
Amazing piece of work really.
Oh look I'm not speechless anymore. Also quite stoned and jebus this is turning into a 5 paragraph essay. I'll leave you alone now. Making sure I don't screw up the rating is too much responsibility - I'm nervous.
Submitted by esso_merda (user info) at 2004-03-10 19:47:41 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Thanks again. And shandy, thanks for the feedback. It gives me something to think about in future writing projects.
Submitted by Random Joe at 2004-03-10 19:45:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Heh heh, the joys of Porn...
Submitted by Random Joe at 2004-03-10 19:42:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Wow... that was really awesome.
Submitted by MistressSarah (user info) at 2004-03-10 19:29:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Wow, I haven't read anything this engaging anywhere in a while. Good story, nice flow.
Submitted by shandythedog (user info) at 2004-03-10 19:25:16 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
told in a light, matter-of-fact way with good attention to detail. it rings true.
enables reader to empathise strongly with child's feelings and experiences without being overly sentimental
entertaining and amusing, also moving.
really fucking good.
Submitted by MrCoffee (user info) at 2004-03-10 19:20:40 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
wow, that was absolutly incredible
Submitted by wijormiclat (user info) at 2004-03-10 19:18:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
That was really fucking good.
Oh, and that was such a great introduction for your story. You sucked me right in.
Submitted by Merc (user info) at 2004-03-10 18:13:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
So far the best writing I have seen on Ubersite. I really care about you. I am glad more people cannot write this well, I would be sad so much more. When adults are awful to kids it is the worst.
Submitted by esso_merda (user info) at 2004-03-10 17:46:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Thanks everyone. Yeah, this story is too true, unfortunatley. Events like that changed me, but I'm happy with who I am now.
Sorry I left you speechless, loki. I'd hate to take that ability away from anybody...
Submitted by jumpinjellyfish (user info) at 2004-03-10 15:05:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
A very moving story...sounds like a tough way to grow up. My sympathy goes out to you.
Submitted by Deisangua (user info) at 2004-03-10 14:29:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Awesome.
Submitted by JohnGalt (user info) at 2004-03-10 14:23:46 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Well done!
Submitted by Insanethemind (user info) at 2004-03-10 14:17:27 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by dohnuts (user info) at 2004-03-10 14:12:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Beautiful. Absolutely. To echo another's sentiments, one of the best things I've read here in a while.
Submitted by Anjie (user info) at 2004-03-10 14:07:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Wow - I got all teary eyed!!! This was a well exicuted story! Thanks for the great read!
Submitted by Nosearian (user info) at 2004-03-10 14:06:11 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Excellent writing skills. Very engaging story...great job!
(Finally stumble on some good content)
Submitted by Mr-Boo (user info) at 2004-03-10 13:59:41 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
An excellent story.
Submitted by loki (user info) at 2004-03-10 13:45:00 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
wow just wow
I'm speechless, good job, rendering me speechless is rare.
Submitted by BLITZKREIG_BOB (user info) at 2004-03-10 13:42:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This is awesome!
Finally, a story with a full introduction AND an ending.
Submitted by sabotage0 (user info) at 2004-03-10 13:37:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
It only took me twenty minutes, but I finally got this usernumber. I suck.
You rock though, good post.
Submitted by Phinch (user info) at 2004-03-10 13:26:41 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
this is the best thing i've read on uber in quite a while.
Submitted by PukingDog (user info) at 2004-03-10 13:22:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Excellent story, true or not. Nicely written.
Submitted by FATMANTPK (user info) at 2004-03-10 13:20:59 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I don't know what to say...have a +2
Submitted by smokymtcsw (user info) at 2004-03-10 13:12:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Very moving and beautifully written. Good for your dad for trying to make the best of a hard situation.