Emotional Fire Part 2: The Gauntlet
Things just aren’t right in the Big Easy right now. I’m so f***ing upset right now that I want to put a hole in the wall with my fists. Moreover, I feel completely helpless since I’m in Atlanta and my family is in New Orleans. I feel like I shouldn’t be writing this right now. I thought about waiting till this weekend when I’m calm, but I won’t.
I get a call from my girlfriend today around 2 because she wanted to tell me about events that happened at my house last night. For the next ten minutes, I do nothing but listen. Other than that setup all you need do is read:
Last night, this guy John (not his real name), who was a childhood friend of my younger brother (20), came over. This guy has had problems since early high school. He was in and out of boarding schools during his adolescent and college years. He has some sort of mental disorder. It’s mild whatever it is, but he has one none the less. He asks my parents if he can use the bathroom and then the phone because his car broke down. My parents said that they never really quite understood why he needed the phone. He changed his story several times in the course of five seconds. On top of which, his parents house in less than two blocks away.
So, he goes to the can while my dad, mom, godson Alex (6) and brother-in-law Chris are sitting down eating dinner. The three of them discuss amongst themselves that it’s a little strange him being there. My parents had been a little reticent about him being there since he’d stolen $50 from my brother about six years prior. About four minutes later, John comes out and says he has to go.
"You don’t need to use the phone?" my dad inquired.
"I already did."
My mom thought that was odd. My dad purposely got up to walk him to the door so he could see who was waiting outside. There was a black SUV waiting in the culdesack roughly 100 yards away. He returned to the table. From my dad’s seat at the dinner table, you can see through the back window of our house the window to his room.
"Why are my lights on in the room?" he said curiously.
"That boy went back there," little Alex commented innocently.
"Oh my god!" my dad jumped up out of his chair and headed back to his room.
My mom just kind of looked forward with a worrisome look on her face. Chris stared at his son and rubbed the hair on his head.
My dad looked in his room to make sure everything was in place. Then, he checked his wallet…gone. Then he checked above his dresser…cash savings stash…gone.
My mom and dad immediately called the cops and then headed over to his parents house two blocks away. The long and short is that they told my parents to press charges and to drop them if he was put in a psychiatric ward.
As they returned home, the black SUV he’d seen earlier was back in the culdesack. My mom went inside. Unbeknown to me or anyone else, my dad began his walk to the vehicle. He got within ten feet, just enough to make out three faces one of which was John, and the cop’s siren rang round the corner. As the police came in view, the SUV took off with my dad pointing to the cops. They got about 1/2 mile away before they were caught, arrested and brought to jail.
The cops found $12,000. Problem is my dad had closer to $20-25K above that dresser. Why? He’s always had it there for emergencies. Remember how helpful it was right after Katrina? They also found a cocked and ready-to-go .45 pistol. Note that this is in a neighborhood that hasn’t had a murder in nearly fifteen years.
This is the ten minute story I heard today. I suppressed my emotions throughout most of the day. I mean really what could I have done? I wait till 9 tonight to call my parents and older sister. The story from my mom didn’t differ much from my girlfriends other than I got the POV from my mom.
I’m so upset as I’m writing this that I’m nauseated. I feel like crying and beating the s*** out of this kid at the same time until the point where he his barely conscious. What’s got me upset? In order:
*My dad was ten feet from a loaded 45!!!!! The "what if" scares the hell out of me. He could have been shot.
*My mom is upset. If you know her, you know it takes an awful lot to rattle her.
*My godson is scared. He slept with his mom and dad last night and they were forced to answer many questions. As I hung up the phone with my sister, I heard him awaken from the couch and yell.
*The neighborhood was built around families who trust and walk to each others houses without reservation. My sister had trouble walking the fifty yards to my parents door tonight.
*My dad lost about $10,000 and probably will not get it back. Maybe before Katrina I wouldn’t care as much; but seeing what my parents have been through, the last thing they need is more financial stress.
*John’s parents did not offer the money to my dad. Unlike my dad, this guy is one of the most well-known attorneys in the city. He’s got cash and his only child is in jail so his expenses are low. Moreover, they asked my parents to drop the charges if he gets psychiatric help.
*My family is now living on edge from people not just circumstance. A guy that owns the bar where two of the guys work at called my house and asked my parents to drop the charge b/c it’s a misunderstanding. As my mom said, "Too many fishy things going on to believe that."
All of those asterisks b/c the kid has a drug problem. Heroine, cocaine whatever…it f***s up people’s lives whether you use it or not.
Before this, I remember what it was to feel my family’s life threatened. I had never felt it before probably because I’ve yet to have kids of my own. This is different b/c the attacker is a person and I want to hurt him ever so badly.
I don’t know if there is a a set table of extreme emotions but over the past six months I feel as though I’ve been through a gauntlet of all of them. Sadness, Anticipation and Weariness.
Fear, guilt and surprise. Anxiety and reverence. Joy, Sadness, Love, Wanting, Guilt and Acceptance. Hope. Now, I think I can add hate and sorrow to the mix. Hate is a tremendously strong word. I may change it later. Right now it’s hate though.
I thought writing this would calm me but I was wrong. I’ve still got adrenaline pumping through me. I’m actually sweating writing this.
Oh yeah, btw, on top of all that crap and the remains of Katrina, New Orleans was plucked by some serious tornadoes over night. What’s next? The whole situation in New Orleans reminds me of Lieutenant Dan in Forrest Gump when his yelling at God during the thunderstorm they sail through, "You call this a storm!"
I know I did the right and best thing for me and my family coming to Atlanta, but damn things like this make it difficult. I think I’m a decent writer. I’m working on two books simultaneously on top of this. I swear I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried.
*I’m too annoyed to correct grammar/spelling right now. I’ll fix it later…enjoy.
%20.45%20pistol.jpg){kind=link}
Wow…that is some crazy stuff! I’m glad your family is OK though…that situation could have gotten really messy really fast!
Oh my goodness Christien, this is like something you’d watch on TV, “Law and Order” kind of stuff…I can’t believe this actually happened to your family. I’m so sorry.