Until I’m sound asleep, everything around me plays into the dark, liquidy trance just under the surface of consciousness. Christopher’s best friend Roy had called for a ride home because we fell asleep on him, on a Saturday Night. Someone pulled into the driveway. With his pink mohawk, dangling a broken, unlit cigarette from his mouth, Roy unknowingly opened the door to come face-to-face with someone who wasn’t his ride.
I heard the angry tone, “I want Bill” and began to wake up.
Muffled sound. Stranger.
“Where’s Bill!” and I thought “It’s too late – something’s wrong.”
Alarmed, I was waking up while Chris stepped out.
Alarmed, I was waking up while Dad came out.
Alarmed, I heard the front door slam like someone had hit it.
Someone had his arms around my dad’s neck.
I screamed so blood-curdlingly loud that Roy ran into Christopher’s dark room. I passed him in the hall, not yet knowing the situation. I could tell he was hiding from whatever was going on around the corner.
“You like to molest little girls?!?”
He was the new husband of some daughter who belonged to very stereotypically-poor, old friends of my mother. No one had met him before. Red eyes, intoxicated. Yelling that his wife had been molested by my dad when she was really young. Daughters. I remembered them. Flashbacks of a few girls many many years ago, when we were more involved. These were the facts I was processing on my way onto the front porch. Listening, eyes wide open.
I can’t tell the story, because I was so afraid he was going to pull out a gun. Drunk hicks who just jump out from the driver’s side of their pickup trucks are dangerous. All I can say…is that there was a good strong minute where we tried to talk to him. I couldn’t…get around anyone’s shoulders. I was on my toes, moving back and forth, trying to get a look at the man while I shouted how insane he was. I heard Mom from inside phoning 911. I kept trying to reach out for my dad’s arm and tell him to get inside the house…
I remember Chris standing over him, about ready to kill. Silent. In front of Dad, in front of me. The drunk said something about not being afraid of him, and Chris shook his head.
I know I said something to Chris. Not to touch him. Not to do anything.
We didn’t feel the cold.
He speaks more of this in such a strange tongue. All of us are now standing on the porch, listening to the wild insanities that make us realize we haven’t known crazy until now. Ducking in the house…Of course we don’t know his name. Of course the police arrive after he’s gone. The cops liked Lacy very much.
Every door is locked.
I’m wide awake.
Someone tell me what the fuck just happened and that I can go to sleep now.