Next day, he left Rita at home cleaning, while he drove into town to rent a carpet cleaner. As he drove past his neighbor’s house, he slowed down and looked the house and yard over carefully, checking the layout. The little white bungalow sat on a slight rise about thirty feet from the road, with a wide driveway on the east, in which both cars were parked beside one another, making it obvious that both Gary and Jeanie were at home. The doghouse, with the big collie secured to it, was on the opposite side of the driveway from the house, only about 20 feet from the road. “Oh, so peaceful,” he chuckled, as he accelerated and continued on his errand. He bought some rat poison at the hardware store and a pound of ground beef from the grocer before renting the carpet shampooer and loading it into the back seat of the car. After he had arrived home and Rita was hard at work cleaning the carpet, he took a juice glass from the kitchen cupboard and with a hammer crushed the glass into tiny particles. Then he mixed it and a good quantity of the rat poison into the hamburger, then wrapped it carefully and hid it in a tool box where he knew it would be safe until he could retrieve it after Rita left and put it in the freezer to await the opportune moment when he could put it to use.
Phone calls to the house next door became a nightly ritual. Sometimes he accompanied the calls with heavy breathing, sometimes silence, and sometimes strangling sounds. Only once did he speak, using his best godfather impression. "I hope your accident insurance is paid up, you never know what's in the future."
After five nights of these phone calls, a new element was added. The frightening calls began to come at any time of the day; morning, afternoon or evening. Jeanie was frightened to the point where she was uncomfortable being left at home alone, even in the daytime, which was exactly what Eric was waiting for. He wanted the house next door to be empty, just long enough for him to get even with Jeanie and to finally prove that he was back in control. Him - Eric Thompson, in total control and able to make her dance to his tune, for he could never let any woman get away with ordering him around in his own house.
By this time, more than two weeks had passed since he had come up with his plan for revenge. He was working the afternoon shift and was just getting ready to leave for work when he decided that it was time for another call. This time there was no answer. He waited a few minutes then tried again but there was still no answer. His heart beat faster as he hung up the phone and hurried to get ready to go next door before someone returned. He got the poisoned meat out of the freezer, defrosted it in the microwave, grabbed his coat, checked in his pocket for the small spice bottle and his gloves and after one last call to the little house next door, which still went unanswered, he hurried out the door.
Jeanie's car was the only one parked in its usual spot in the driveway. Gary's car was missing so he assumed that they had gone somewhere together. So far everything was going perfectly. He parked on the road in front of the house and went to the door, pulling on his gloves as he went. He knocked loudly on the door and stood there waiting as the big collie barked a warning. He had a contingency plan for had anyone answered his knock, he would have pleaded with them for any information they could give him about Emily's whereabouts. He would have asked and then begged for their help to find his lost family. He knew they wouldn’t give him any information, so after a few minutes of pleading he would leave, no harm done. But, fortune was smiling on him, for as he hoped, there was no answer to his knock. To be on the safe side, he knocked again, louder. Still no answer. He could hardly believe that things were falling into place so easily.
Quickly moving to the side of Jeanie's car he reached into his pocket and retrieved the spice bottle he had placed there previously. He checked the road but seeing nothing coming in either direction, he unscrewed the gas cap and poured the sugar into the gas tank. Quickly he replaced the cap and shoved the bottle deep into the recesses of his coat pocket from which he removed the meat. He checked the road again and still there was nothing to be seen in either direction, so he unwrapped the hamburger and tossed it to the dog, making sure that he kept the wrapping paper from it in his hand. He hurried back to the car that he had left idling on the side of the road and jumped in, tossing the meat wrapper on the car floor. Since he had worn gloves, and the snow in the driveway had been well packed down by the many boots and tires that had traveled over it, he left not a trace to show that he had been there. As he drove away, he felt positively elated and filled to overflowing with an enormous sense of satisfaction. "Wow! That was wild! I'll make a couple more phone calls just for fun," he decided, "then I'll quit. I think that this has pretty much settled the score with little Mrs. Nosy Bitch. She’ll think twice before she gets in my way again.”
The smell of chicken was making Eric hungry. It had been some time since he had enjoyed such a feeling of well being. He had a case of cold beer, a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken and a clean house to go home to. Best of all, Rita had gone home this morning, so he didn't have to put up with her tonight and just yesterday he had taken care of his nosy neighbor. Life was definitely on an upswing. He thought about stopping for the mail as he would be passing right by the post office, but decided that it could wait until tomorrow. The chicken smelled so good that he didn't want to have to wait for it any longer than necessary. Yet despite his decision, when the post office appeared in his view, habit won the day and he hit his signal light and pulled to a stop. It took only a couple of minutes to get the mail from his box and jump back into the car, where he took a minute to flip through the envelopes to see what was there. “Nothing important," he decided. There was an ad for a water softener, another sale flyer from Canadian Tire, his phone bill and the Visa bill. He tossed the pile on the passenger seat beside the bucket of chicken before starting the car and heading for home.
Half an hour later, he pushed a plate of chicken bones away from him and reached for the bills. The phone bill held only one surprise and it was not something that was there but rather something that wasn’t there. He had expected to find a call to Toronto listed on it, which would offer some clue as to how Emily had contacted her father, but none appeared. “That’s strange,” he muttered. He tossed the phone bill aside, took a swig of beer and opened the Visa bill. His eyes scanned the list of purchases and his mouth dropped open in amazement. "What the..." His eyes moved on down the page until they fell on the total at the bottom and he stared in shock and disbelief: $9,946.78. "No way. No God damn way."
He stared at the paper in utter disbelief. Then, slowly, the truth dawned on him. Emily was the only one who could have done this to him. There was no other explanation. It had to have been her.
A white, hot anger, unlike anything that he had ever experienced before washed over him and he felt as though he would drown in its depths. His breath came in shallow, angry gasps and he hit his head with the heels of his hands as he tried to accept the thought that mousy little Emily had somehow managed to get up the nerve to do this to him. It was almost more than he could accept, and yet the evidence was here in his hand. Emily had screwed him royally. He dumped the chicken bones on the floor and kicked them across the room. He stormed around the room looking for something to throw but there was nothing except the beer he had been drinking. Finally, he grabbed the beer bottle by the neck and threw it against the wall, putting a hole in the plaster and spraying the carpet and himself with beer. He kicked the bottle and hurt his foot, then sat on the couch, with fists clenched, furious that she had managed to get him again. "You are as good as dead, lady," he shouted, his nostrils flaring as he began to draw in deeper breaths. "Nobody does this to me and gets away with it. Certainly not you.” He began to get himself better under control and mutter to himself in a cold, furious voice, “You’d better be watching over your shoulder, sweetheart, because when you least expect it, I'll be there."
Chapter 18
Winter dragged on and the snowdrifts in the front yard piled higher and higher. People everywhere grumbled about what a long winter it had been and longed for at least a hint of spri
ng. Emily would smile to herself whenever she heard one of these complaints for she felt as though spring had come into her life on Christmas Eve when the truck with her father and her son had pulled into the driveway by the house. Not snow, ice or freezing weather could put a chill on the joy she was feeling about her life here in her father’s home. For her and the boys, this was a winter of healing. Although Eric had never physically abused the children, the mental abuse had been very real. His temper, authoritarian ways and abuse of her in front of the children had damaged them as surely as if he had struck them. They had spent their lives living on guard, being careful not to do anything to upset the father who couldn’t or wouldn’t be satisfied with anything they did. Here in Toronto, they spent many hours doing things together as a family without the tension that had been such a constant in their home in the west, and the children began to see another way to live. Through Pete they began to learn that not all men were cold and uncaring. Emily also spent many hours that winter looking back at the chain of events in her life that had brought her to this point. In time she began to understand why she had made certain choices, where she had gone wrong and what she could have done to make her marriage turn out differently. She realized most of all that although she was not to blame for the onset of the violence that began so early in her marriage, she did hold some responsibility for allowing the abuse to continue, for she had done nothing to stop him. She had never gone to the police and pressed charges, or asked anyone for help. Her failure to take action had given him the idea that he could get away with it and that he could totally control her without worry of consequences. From the first day of their marriage, he had been overbearing and had forced his ideas and opinions on her. She could see now that even at that point his treatment of her was definitely abusive although it didn’t become physical until a few months later. And then, when the physical abuse began, she had lied to cover up for his actions. It wasn’t easy to have to admit that she was in part responsible for what had happened but she had to be honest with herself and admit that she had allowed the abuse to happen. She should have gone for help and seen to it that everyone knew what he had done. And she should have pressed charges. Perhaps from a jail cell he might have figured out that his behavior was not acceptable and would not be tolerated. But, even though she was partially to blame, she realized that Eric had a much larger share of the blame to carry, for nothing gave him the right to hit her, especially as she had done nothing to provoke him. It often seemed that just the fact that she existed was enough to set him off. She knew that no-one had the right to hurt another human being like he had and that most people wouldn’t hurt an animal the way he had hurt her. She thought that there must be something wrong in Eric that made him think that he had the right to act like this toward another person and then refuse to accept the possibility that he was in any way to blame. In his eyes, it had always been her fault and as time passed she began to believe that as well. If only she could have been a better wife, if only she hadn’t said or done whatever, if only she could keep the house in better order, if only, if only. Now with the clearer vision distance gave her, she realized that there were no ‘if only’ that would have made any difference at all. Eric wanted to have complete, total control over her. Add that to a real mean streak and a belief that there was a different set of rules just for him and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that the majority of the blame rested squarely on Eric’s shoulders.
With a great deal of relief, she also realized that there was nothing wrong with her mind. Her ‘confusion’ and ‘forgetfulness’ had been some kind of sick game her husband had been playing with her. It was hard to imagine why he had wanted to toy with her mind. Perhaps he had the idea that doubting her sanity might have kept her more dependent on him and less likely to find the courage to leave him and strike out on her own. If that is what he had in mind, for a long time it had worked, for she had been very frightened of trying to manage on her own.
She also spent a lot of time during the winter trying to figure out where her strengths and talents lay as she debated the direction she should be taking in looking to her future and her ability to provide for her sons. She knew that her role as mother had to come first and no matter what the consequences, any plans for a future career would depend largely on what was best for the children. Again she was grateful to her father for allowing them to live with him, for it meant that she could remain at home until Danny was a little older. Although she was grateful that she didn’t have to rush out to work, she regretted that she was forced to rely on her father to support them, for he had already raised his family and it wasn’t fair to expect him to take on the responsibility of another even larger one at his age. How grateful she was for the money that she had realized from the jeweler she had brought from Alberta with her. Although it didn’t give her a lot of money, it was enough that she didn’t have to ask her father for any when she or one of the boys needed something.
Best of all, during these pleasant, stress-free winter days, she began to like herself again. Was it so bad that she was easy-going and didn’t make many demands on her husband? If that was her greatest fault, she decided, she could be a lot worse. But she knew that if by some miracle she were ever to fall in love again, she would not be so easy going. From the very beginning she would set boundaries and see to it that they weren’t crossed, for never again, she vowed, would she allow anyone to hit her and get away with it.
It was a healing time for the boys as well. The biggest change was in Sam, who lost the cold, angry look that had so often clouded his face. All of the boys became less guarded and after a short time didn’t panic whenever they dropped or spilled something. What Emily noticed most of all was the laughter. She hadn’t realized how little of it there was in the big brick house in Alberta until she began to hear the laughter that could erupt at any time in the little house in Toronto. Indeed it was a good winter.
True to his word, Pete hired carpenters to divide the family room into a bedroom and a playroom and when it was finished Sam and Scott moved down to the new bedroom there, leaving the upstairs bedroom that had once been Mark’s for Kyle and Danny. The dining room table was moved into the kitchen and although it made the room somewhat crowded; it made it possible for Pete to have a place where he and Bandit could have a measure of peace and quiet when they felt the need to get away from Emily and the children.
The work was finished and all trace of the carpenters and their mess gone and the boys were settled in their new room in time for Scott's birthday, which was celebrated with the first birthday party he had ever had. He had been allowed to invite six friends from school and a lot of thought and discussion went into the choosing of these six. The party, which was held in the new playroom in the basement turned out to be a real success. The whole family, Pete and Bandit included, had enjoyed the noise and activity, as well as the cake and ice cream that ended the day.
The family settled into a pleasant routine with the three boys enrolled in the school where Emily and her brother had once attended. Pete suggested that the family start going to the old church down the block where he and Angie had attended and where Mark and Emily had gone to Sunday School, but after spending so many years with the hypocrisy of Eric, Emily couldn’t see herself there and for a couple of months stayed at home with Danny while Pete and the older boys attended. When she finally decided that she needed to get out and see people, the church seemed to be the best place to make a start. Other than short shopping trips, she hadn’t strayed out of the house at all and she was very nervous at the prospect of venturing out. She had felt so secure in Pete’s house that she had become quite loath to leave it. It took a few Sundays before she was comfortable around so many strangers, but gradually she began to speak to some of the people who had tried to be friendly and welcome her into their midst. The children had no problem being friendly and enjoyed their Sunday School classes, just as they enjoyed every new experience that came their way. Once again, attending church services
became part of their routine, although this time it was very different without Eric there to control it all.
One day, while getting some boxes out of the way for the carpenters, Emily had found a box of fabric remnants left in the basement by her mother and began piecing together a quilt top. She soon realized that the time spent working on the quilt was doing her more good than she had ever imagined possible. It afforded her hours of peace and calm. She took great pleasure putting the matching and complimentary colors together and sewing tiny stitches in this thing of beauty that she was creating with her two hands. She remembered as a child learning the art of quilt-making with her mother and the quilt became a bond with Angie and with each stitch she took came a small measure of comfort, until she was often able to think of her mother without feeling pain and loss. Instead she could often smile as she remembered times they had shared and things they had done together over the years.
There hadn’t been a word from Eric since they had left Alberta and she was hopeful that the day would come that he would be little more than a bad memory. Still though, her sleep was occasionally interrupted with dreams of him and she would wake with a sense of dread and fear that would melt away as she would realize that she was safe in Toronto and Eric was safely in the past, not able to hurt her or the children again.
Leaving Sharpstone Page 14
