I call the police…I march my ass upstairs to Jenkins’ and use his phone. I paced all morning, angry and not knowing what to do. Linus has a bruise on her face and I feel guilty. I should have let him pound me and be done with it. It would have stayed in the front room. But I decided right then to start defending myself and Linus got hurt because of that decision. I feel like crap. As I tell dispatch what happened last night, I’m holding both babies and Jenkins stands way too close to me. I’m having a hard time concentrating through the smell of old man…whiskey and tobacco. I can hear his breathing. I swear if he touches me, I’ll push him down his stairs; they can take me away. I finish my call and I can’t get away from him fast enough. What is wrong with that man? I’m so distressed already…he just has no decency at all.
Waiting for the police to arrive, I pace some more. I worry what will happen. Will they take him away? Will they arrest him? I start to question my sanity in doing this when I start to realize there may be a trial. Can I go through with it? After all he’s done to you and these babies? Yes you can… and you will do it without fear…you know you’re doing the right thing! Am I?
It takes two hours before the police arrive; actually, one officer. He comes to the front door instead of around back. I see Jenkins shadow, at the top of the stairs, and then he hobbles on down, like it’s his business. I tell Mr. Officer to come into my place but he says “Look, I’ll tell you right now, we really don’t get involved in domestic disputes.” I just about crap. I’m standing there with a black eye and split lip and he tells me he can’t do anything. I start to argue with him and tell him how I live, what Jonathan does to me, and the cop just shakes his head. Old Jenkins says he’s never heard anything like that going on.
I’m stricken. I tell Jenkins to mind his business and the cop tells me it’s not necessary to get nasty. What?! Oh, it’s ok for my husband to beat me senseless but I can’t tell Jenkins to frick off. Nice! I pick up Linus who’s been clinging to me. He sees her bruise and says “Someone’s a sucker for punishment.” My jaw drops…He says “Just stay out of his way. Don’t give him reason to do this.” It suddenly occurs to me that this bastard cop probably beats the crap out of his own wife, so he can justify what is happening in my life. And he leaves…
I’m in such a rage…I put the babies down for their nap early because I don’t want them to see me like this. I pace back and forth like a caged animal. I cry and scream inside. When Jonathan comes home, he’s intercepted, out front, by Jenkins who just can’t wait to tell him what I did. I know this because I hear them talking in the foyer. Jenkins offers him a drink, which he doesn’t refuse. “YOU BASTARDS!!!” I yell….. and I know they can hear me. I scream and cry with rage. The babies scream and cry in fear. I pick up his tool box and, still screaming, I pitch it with all I have. It smashes right through the back window…
Next -> Losing It
Tags: domestic disputes, police, tobacco, tool box, whiskey