Every young couple has a bumpy ride the first year after their
honeymoon and ours wasn’t any different. Poor planning, losing a job after
arguing with the boss and having no money saved up to be self-reliantly
self-sufficient, we were forced to make one of the worst decisions of our first
year’s marriage – living with the in-laws. It was a nightmare from the moment
it was suggested and a journey that brought us closer together to fight the
common nemesis within but not without our share of fights and squabbles about
so many things it was hard to remember.
The house was a sturdy brick colored house that had a small
front and back yard. The garage was full with antiques and the cars were left
outside to suffer during the winter months in Ohio. Four bedrooms upstairs and
a spacious kitchen and dining room, there was plenty of space for people to be
relaxed and enjoy each other’s company. There were shade trees and brick walls
that separated the neighbor’s house but the space in between must have been
three feet or less.
A quiet neighborhood in general the only excitement was the
fire station down the street and the howling sirens that came from those red
colored fire engine trucks honking their air horns and blaring their warnings
they are coming out of their driveway and into the mainstream neighborhood
streets.
The first fact we noticed was the rigidity of the house
rules and lights out at 10 pm. No exceptions. No television upstairs and only
an alarm clock radio to keep up entertained we made it through the night
without much romance and rarely a quiet’s night as we heard the fighting below
us about money and food that was either not prepared right or too greasy. The
ambience was a most troubling setting but we had each other and that was all
that really matters at the time. Life was bliss as we made each moment count
with quality time and passionate interludes time permitting.
Thankfully, the days went quick as our time away at work and
served to us a legitimate escape or getaway from the reality show that occurred on a daily
basis but the evenings and nighttime’s were deliberately slow and painstakingly
awkward and most uncomfortable to say the least. What happened under that roof
could put today’s reality shows to shame as the script was anything but
ordinary.
Needless to say, we made it work and stayed out of each
other’s way as we found things to occupy our time with or took a drive to the
nearest burger drive in to sit and relax under the steel roofs of the colorful stalls
where we ordered our food and flashed our lights when we were done eating.
The mother-in-law was a kind and compassionate woman that
would give you the shirt off her back and feed you the last piece of corn on
the cob or a deliciously flavored piece of meat in the always stacked and
stocked white Kenmore two door refrigerator. She always smiled and never had a
bad word to say about anyone, even family.
Gertrude had endured a rough life but was hardened for it yet never
showed but a kind heart to anyone that needed a friend.
The father-in-law, Ed was his name, was a three hundred
pound plus drunkard with a terrible attitude and a short fused temper. His vice
was alcohol and his pet peeves were dirty dishes and dirty floors. They had to
be spotless as he would run his hand over the floor and walk into the kitchen
to see if the dishes were done. His roundness would often prevent him from
going upstairs thus he would choose the sofa over the upstairs bed nine times
out of ten during the week.
The grandmother was a quiet woman – so quiet you hardly ever
knew she was around. She slept a lot and it didn’t matter whether the house was
noisy or quiet as she was near deaf and never complained about anything or
anyone around her. A woman that dressed like the frontier women of the west
without a bonnet, she would take out her false teeth and show them off every
time someone strange came to the house and was introduced to her in the
beginning.
This family was weird but always together. Close knit was an
understatement and amicable was a stretch of the imagination. There was seldom
a night they didn’t play cards on the dining table or just sat there chatting
about current events and things to do for the weekend. Euchre was their
favorite game. They didn’t get along but had coping skills that minimized
arguments and conflicts the best they could.
The television was sparingly used and hardly even turned on
except for what they called “quality” shows such as Ed Sullivan, the
Honeymooners and several others that glorified the room in black and white. The
radio was the large wooden kind that had only AM stations and rarely on except
for a show or two that was favored in the household.
We lived upstairs in the room at the end of the stairs. It
was a good sized room as they were generous with us living there on a temporary
basis and often gave us the kind of loving feelings that made us sense we were
welcome with the unusual exception of Ed wanting to come upstairs to sleep and
drunk at the same time.
It was during such tantrums and outburst he was a most
belligerent and obnoxious while under the influence of his liquor or beer. The
choice was based on how far it was from payday and the day after payday was
always hell to pay for he went on a binge that often lasted several days and
began with his arrival by cab after visiting his neighborhood bar.
Ed was a kind man, he was a kind soul that would do anything
you asked when he was sober. Gertrude took good care of him and ensured that he
had clean clothes, clean dishes and clean floors. The rest was pretty easy and
live went on with uneventful ease.
The room had two large windows that were sealed to keep the
Ohio cold out and the room warm during these notorious Midwest winters. There
were no ceiling fans and no other ventilation except to crack the door open at
the end of the hallway leading up from the stairs. The furniture was Victorian
and the bed was a good sized bed with plentiful pillows and covers.
The closets were huge and stored everything we owned at the
time as we were poor as dirt but happy to be together. I was fortunate to have
the girl of my dreams in my arms each night and one thing I can remember
clearly was the loving way she snuggled next to me as we fell asleep quietly
and without any noises for the walls inside were paper thin and every breath we
took could be heard if you were standing at the end of the hallway near the
stairway where it ends.
One night, sound asleep, we heard the cab pull into the
driveway as it honked its horn to warn Gertrude that Ed had arrived. He needed
help walking and watching through the upstairs window, we saw him stagger into
the kitchen through the back door as he bellowed out an order to fix him
something to eat and that he was hungry and demanded food immediately delivered
in his favorite chair at the table.
There were rustling sounds, some screams and some sounds
like the furniture was being tossed around but I was grabbed by my wife to go
back to sleep and leave them alone. It was none of our business how they acted
whenever he went on this binge but the sounds were disturbing and the mood was
ugly. I felt compelled to go down there to see if Gertrude was alright and safe
from this raging and ferociously sounding bear downstairs.
Then, momentarily, the emptiness was silenced as I thought
he had fallen asleep on the sofa where he normally parks his torso after a
night as such as that night. However, for some reason his mood was ugly and his
disposition was rare as the silence was broken and we became aware that he was
heard laboring with heavy breaths climbing the stairs that led to our room
upstairs at the end of the stairway.
The door was cracked open and the light of the hallway
pierced slightly into the room with us knowing that within a minute or two he
would be upstairs at the room at the end of the stairway where we were sleeping
and now nervously awaiting his entrance into the room. I chose to get dressed and envisioned an
altercation as he might have found the courage to take up a fight of my
accosting of his daughter and the marriage that was neither approved by him nor
often censured as it was called a “puppy love” kind of relationship that defied
all odds of becoming a successful relationship.
The noise level dropped as I could hear Gertrude beg him to
come back down and sleep downstairs. His disturbed state of mind was focused on
giving me a piece of his mind and there was no stopping him since he was on his
last six steps to the end of the stairs. The door flung open and the odor of alcohol
reeked the room instantly as he rudely turned on the light with Gertrude
hanging onto him begging him to stop is aggressive behaviors. It was on –
The lighted room revealed I was already dressed with shoes
on and ready for battle. My wife, faithfully standing behind me shouted at her
dad to stay away and leave us alone. This was a night like no other night as it
was down to fisticuffs that I didn’t want to happen. We were invited to stay
but we knew that if this came to blows, our welcome was over and the streets
were cold and damp on an Ohio winter day. Living out of a suitcase was most
uncomfortable but being under the same roof as the in-laws was a challenge that
can never be forgotten.
I didn’t want to do it – I didn’t want to fight him as I was
half his age and sober as hell. He didn’t have any reflexes and his muscle
coordination suffered badly as he staggered with every step and slurred his
speech making his words undistinguishable and hard to understand. Gertrude had
a firm grip on his pants and tried to keep him from moving forward. He dragged
her along as his outweighed her three to one and never once blinked an eye at
her attempts to settle him down.
Talking and talking some more to calm him down he swung at
me not once or twice but a set of roundhouse punches that missed with every
attempt to do me harm. Never fearing a real hit from him in this stupor I
dodged and ducked the best I could to keep him from making contact with my head
or skin as it was a nightmare to remember forever. The closer he got the more
anxious I was to hit him back but it would be a self-made disaster if I were to
hit him once and put him to the ground as he was hard to pick back up if he did
indeed fall down. In my mind I knew I
could drop him like a stone.
He kept coming at me and I decided that if I could lead him
out of the room near the end of the stairway the rest would make it easier for
him to find his way back down to the sofa where he needed to be. Ducking and
sliding my feet, I coaxed him out of the room and watched him swing at me one
more time as he missed and let his momentum take him down the stairs that began
at the front of the room where we stayed and never once lifted a hand to hurt
him intentionally.
The bear rolled harmlessly down the stairway and it was
there where he decided he would sleep until he could regain his balance and
stand on his own. The night was uneventful for the rest of the hours but we
knew that when daylight came into the room at the end of the stairway, we had
to pack up and leave to find another place to live.
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