by Jon Reisfeld
Ted glanced up at his friend. “Guess who’s got a C-note riding on this—with an eight-point spread?”
“Someone with more money than sense, I guess.”
“Marty,” Celia broke in, "can I get you a beer in the meantime?”
“Sure.”
“Would you get me another one, too, Hon?” Ted asked, dangling his now empty bottle before her at arm’s length, without taking his eyes off the game.
“Sure, Ahrrchie,” she said in her best Brooklyn accent. Then, to no one in particular, “How about some nachos?”
“Yeah, Mom!” Timmy said. “And can I stay up till halftime, please?”
“If I let you, mister, you better jump out of bed in the morning.”
“I will. Promise!”
By halftime, the score was fifty-one to fifty. Timmy kissed his parents “goodnight,” gave Martin a hug, and reluctantly stomped off to his room alone. Then, Ted put the TV on mute and turned to his friend. “So, what’s up?”
“Well,” Martin said, “I’ve got bad news and really bad news.”
“Let’s start with the bad news,” Ted said.
Martin sat up. “I’m homeless.”
“You’re what?” they both said in unison.
“Homeless. Out on the street.”
Ted smiled. “So, the repo man finally caught up with you?”
“Ha ha,” Martin said. “I still own the house; I'm just not living in it. And that brings me to the really bad news. Katie and I have separated.”
Celia gasped. “Oh my, Marty!”
“As of when?” Ted asked.
“Friday night. I found out when I came home to an empty house, with a note from Katie waiting for me on the kitchen table.”
“I’m so sorry, Marty,” Celia said.
Ted frowned at his friend. “So, why are we only hearing about this now?”
“Well, I spent Friday night calling Katie’s close friends, trying to figure out where she was. I was in shock, and I guess I was hoping the whole thing would blow over. Telling you guys only would have made it seem more real.”
“So, you spent the weekend alone?” Celia asked, a concerned look on her face.
“No. My brother and mother came by taking turns keeping the ‘wounded soldier’ company.”
They all sat for a moment in silence.
“I’m confused,” Celia said, at last. “If Katie moved out on Friday, why are you suddenly without a house now?”
“I had one until about an hour ago,” Martin said. “Then, two sheriff’s deputies came and kicked me out.”
Ted looked appalled. “They did what?”
“They knocked on my door at about eight-fifteen and served me with a Temporary Restraining Order that Katie had gotten. Then, they told me I had fifteen minutes to gather up my belongings and leave.”
“Just like that?” Celia asked. “No warning?”
“Uh huh.”
“They must have had some kind of grounds to do it, didn’t they?” Ted asked.
“Yeah,” Martin said, blushing. “Katie had accused me of repeated acts of verbal and physical abuse against her and the kids, for Christ’s sake! Can you believe that?” Martin shook his head, grunted and threw his upturned hands into the air, as if to say, ‘What’s the world coming to?’
“Well...Marty,” Celia began hesitantly, clearing her throat. “Have you ever threatened her...or the kids?”
“What?” Martin asked, taken aback. “Are you kidding me, Celia?”
“No need to attack me, Marty,” Celia said. “I’m just asking.”
“I wasn’t. But do you actually think I’d be capable of doing something like that?”
“Well, a restraining order, that’s pretty serious stuff, Marty,” Celia continued. “Doesn’t a judge have to sign it?”
“Let’s be clear,” Ted interjected, “there was a hearing, right?”
Martin nodded as his blush deepened. “It’s a Temporary Restraining Order, guys. It expires in seven days.”
“Unless the judge makes it permanent,” Ted interjected.
“I-I can’t believe you,” Martin said, shaking his head.
“Marty, do you understand how serious these charges are?” Celia asked.
“I’m the one who just got kicked out of his home, Celia. I think I have an inkling.”
“You could go to jail for this.”
“Now, Celia,” Ted said, trying to diffuse the situation a little. He waved his finger at her mischievously. “Remember the O.J. Simpson trial, honey? Let’s not ‘rush to judgment.’”
“Interesting choice, dear. O.J. was a celebrity, and no one had any idea of what he was capable of, either—no more than they could have predicted what that horrible Barnes man would do.”
“What?” Martin said, leaping up, shaking his head and waving his hands in the air. “Tell me the two of you are not comparing me with those psychos!”
“Whoa, whoa,” Ted said. “No one’s suggesting anything of the kind.”
He turned to his wife. “And, for the record, Honey, the jury found O.J. not guilty, remember? ‘If the gloves don’t fit, you must acquit!’”
Celia shook her head and waved a finger at Ted. “O.J. was guilty as hell, dear. The prosecution never should have allowed his defense team to put so much weight on those gloves. Instead, they should have been telling the jury, “If the shoes fit, you must nail this shit!”
Martin broke in as he resumed his seat, “Hey guys, remember, I haven’t been tried, or convicted, of anything.”
“You haven’t, Marty?’ Celia said with surprise. “How can that be? There was a hearing. You said so yourself.”
“It was an ex-parte hearing,” Martin repeated.
“What kind of hearing?” Ted asked.
“Ex parte. Only Katie and her attorney were present.”
Celia looked puzzled. “I thought both sides always had to be there.”
“Me, too, but the deputies assured me that ex-parte hearings are ‘standard operating procedure’ in domestic violence cases. I get a hearing...eventually, but it won’t be till next Monday. And Katie and her attorney will be there as well.
“Meanwhile, the judge has thrown me out on the street. He’s ordered me not to speak with Katie or the kids—or to have any contact with them at all. I have to put myself up in a motel. And, believe it or not, I’m lucky. He could have confiscated my car and given it to Katie, if she didn’t already have one.”
“Wow,” Ted said, shaking his head in disbelief. “It’s like they’ve tried and convicted you in advance. And this is America?”
“Apparently.”
“That’s really something,” he continued. “And none of this has anything to do with your separation?”
“Oh, I think it has everything to do with it,” Martin said. “Katie made the whole thing up. It’s all lies!”
“Well, didn’t Katie have to make those charges under oath?” Celia asked.
“Yeah.”
“Do you really think she would be reckless enough to lie then?”
“What’s your point?”
“All I’m saying is I’ve known Katie a long time. She’s smarter than that. I’m wondering...is it possible, Marty, that you might actually have done something wrong?”
Martin shook his head. “I haven’t.”
“Marty, did you ever hit her?” Ted asked, abruptly.
“No!”
“What about the kids? Did you ever lose it with your boy? I mean, kids can get extremely frustrating at times.”
“No, no. What, are you both out of your minds? I love my kids! I would never strike them. This is sick!”
Ted stared intently at Marty for a moment. Then, his expression gradually relaxed. “Are you sure you haven’t stashed a riding crop in your nightstand, Marty, just in case the wife might need a little ‘disciplining’?”
Martin wasn’t sure what to make of this last remark, until he saw the edge of his friend’s lips curl upward.
>
“You, jackass!” he said, shaking his head and starting to laugh. Martin looked away for a moment and took a deep breath, but as he did, his smile suddenly disappeared.
“Wait a second,” he said. He raised his index finger near his forehead, as if catching himself in mid-thought. Then he turned back in Ted’s direction. “You really don’t believe me, do you?”
“I want to. I’m trying to. My instincts tell me I should.”
“But, you have your doubts?”
“I don’t know.”
“What about you?” he said, now facing Celia.
She just sat there shrugging her shoulders.
“Listen, you two,” Martin said, determined to make them understand. “Katie’s lying. What she claims happened never took place—and I can prove it.”
“How are you going to do that?” Celia challenged.
“Katie says she called the police to our house four different times. Now, maybe she did call them. That’s possible. But I was never there when she did. I wasn’t even in town on the days she claims all this stuff happened. I was away doing audits.”
“Oh—?” Celia said, surprised. She hesitated for a moment before continuing. “But that still doesn’t explain why she would be foolish enough to lie under oath.”
“Beats me, Celia, but from what I hear, she’s got plenty of company. No offense, but women apparently lie about this stuff all the time.”
“Really, Marty? Celia said, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow. "Where did you dig up that plum?”
“The deputies told me. They said half the Temporary Restraining Orders they enforce are based on, and I quote, ‘bogus charges.’ I’ll know more when I speak to an attorney, which I need to do as soon as possible.”
“You don’t have one yet?” Ted asked.
“No. I could ask our firm’s counsel, or a few of my D.C. lawyer friends, for referrals, but I don’t have that kind of time. And I’d prefer to fly under my firm’s radar on this, if I can help it. So, I was wondering, do you know anyone locally who is good and who handles divorces?”
“Yeah,” Ted said. “Jeff Bishop, one of my construction supers, went through a nasty divorce two years ago, and he was represented by a guy with an office right here, in Olney. He said the guy saved his ass. Do you want me to call him and see if I can get a name and number?”
“Yeah, that would be great.”
Ted excused himself and went to his study to make the call.
“I’m sorry, Marty,” Celia said, after a moment. “God knows we have no reason to doubt you, but Katie has accused you of something truly awful. You claim she’s lying...which would make her actions wholly unforgivable...and yet I don’t get it. Why would she turn on you like this? What could possibly make her hate you that much...unless—?”
“Unless I did something to warrant it? I get it, Celia.”
“I know, I know. I feel terrible about it. But domestic violence, Marty? It’s such an ugly, scary thing. Just look at that awful Barnes case! I’ve never known anyone accused of it.”
“So, that’s another first for me? Nice!”
“God, I’m sorry!” Celia said. “Listen, you’ve always been a gentleman to Katie around us. You’ve always seemed extremely attentive and considerate. You’re a great dad, too, from what I’ve seen. And, for what it’s worth, I really don’t think you could hurt a fly.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“The problem is...no one really knows what goes on in other people’s homes, you know? I mean, who could ever have predicted that a young father would slit his own kids’ throats, murder his wife and then take himself out. It’s inconceivable to me! But I’m really worried for you, Marty. I’m also a bit shocked. We had no idea you two were having any problems. You always seemed like such a solid couple.”
“We were,” Martin said. “For years. Rock solid. Did I ever tell you how we met?”
“No.”
“It was a blind date, when we were both in our early thirties. A ‘fix up.’ We hit it off. I think we were both looking to settle down.
“I’ve never told this to anyone, but the night of that first date, after leaving our friends’ house, we slipped away to a little hole-in-the-wall bar and sort of ‘interviewed’ each other.”
“No kidding, like Larry King?”
“Yeah. I had never done anything like that before. We compared notes about what we wanted in life, and we discovered we pretty much wanted the same things. So, we began dating exclusively, and not long after that, we decided to get married.
“We were always, to borrow your term, ‘solid.’ We were extremely comfortable with each other. But I’ll tell you what we weren’t, Celia,” he said, looking at his friend. “We were never madly in love, like you and Ted. At best, we were mildly in love.
“Our marriage may not have been perfect, but it was still pretty good most of the time. And once we had the kids, which happened pretty soon in our case, it was over for me. I believe adults have special responsibilities to their kids. Once they’re here, we need to do everything we can to give them our best.”
Martin felt a sudden chill as he heard himself saying those all-too-familiar words. Could Katie’s actions wind up rendering them meaningless? Even before he was old enough to articulate them, those principles had become his life’s mission and private mantra—the salve, and promised cure, for his own secret pain.
As a child, Martin repeatedly had promised himself that, when he grew up, he would give his children the positive, stable and secure home life his parents had never been able to provide. He would do everything in his power to insulate them from the senseless cruelties and hardships of the adult world.
Martin and Jeb had not been so fortunate. As kids, they had watched, helplessly, as their father’s unrestrained gambling addiction wrecked his life and theirs. Charles Silkwood made a good living as a construction project super, but his need to stay constantly in the action, and to offset steadily mounting losses, led him to bet on everything and anything: baseball, football and basketball games; the ponies; even the stock market.
While Charles Silkwood occasionally enjoyed big, even spectacular, wins, the family saw little of it. He might have taken the boys and their mother out for a celebratory dinner, but then he would plow every remaining cent of his winnings right back into making his next big score.
The family’s collective fortunes rose one week, on hollow hopes and empty promises, only to crash the next. But their overall trajectory soon became apparent: The Silkwoods were steadily slipping toward financial ruin and into ever-deepening desperation and despair.
Martin remembered late-night yelling matches between his parents, when his father would stumble in from high-stakes poker games, reeking of liquor and, more often than not, smarting from fresh new losses. As his gambling debts mounted, Martin’s father blew through his salary, the family savings and even much of his aging parents’ retirement nest egg in ever more desperate attempts to reverse his fortunes. Yet it seemed, each new attempt only left him deeper in the hole.
Finally, with nowhere else to turn, he approached the loan sharks. This proved to be his undoing. To pay their exorbitant interest rates, Charles Silkwood began taking bribes at work. He would ‘look the other way’ when vendors substituted inferior goods for the first-rate materials his company had ordered. When he finally got caught, Charles lost his job and went to jail.
No one in the Silkwood extended family had ever sunk so low. The trauma and shame were palpable. Martin’s immediate family never spoke of it to anyone; but the shame, though not his own, left an indelible stain on Martin that had dogged him ever since.
For a moment, Martin considered telling Celia what those words really meant to him. He wanted her to know why he would do anything in his power to preserve the peace, stability and innocence his children had enjoyed. He wanted to share why he would have taken his own life before he ever would have allowed himself to harm them or shatter their world.
Celia and Ted were among his closest friends. It would have been so easy to let them in, if he could just say the words. But he realized he couldn’t. Martin had allowed Katie in, only to have her betray him. He simply could not risk another betrayal, no matter how unlikely. The invisible wall of separation that had served him so well, for so long, would remain in place—at least, for the time being.
Celia had listened intently, nodding her head, as Martin had discussed his marriage and his child-rearing philosophy. She liked what she heard, but that only made her more confused.
“Marty," she asked when he finished, "why do you think your marriage fell apart now? Was there a triggering incident of some sort?”
“I wish I knew, Celia,” he said. “I know that sounds like a cop out, but I lay awake nights now, struggling with just that question.
“All I can tell you is, a couple months back, something in our marriage changed. I’m not sure what. Katie started picking fights with me all the time. Our shared beliefs seemed to go out the window.
“I pushed for us to see a marriage counselor, and she agreed, in principle,” he continued, “but it never amounted to more than lip service.”
Martin’s eyes began to water as the realization gradually hit home. He shook his head. “My God, it’s really over, isn’t it? The marriage and the life Katie and I were building together for the kids? It’s like I'm witnessing some horrible train wreck and I can't do anything to stop it."
“Worst of all,” he said, “this restraining order has cut me off completely from Justin and Monica. I can’t see them or even talk with them on the phone until after the hearing next Monday. I can’t even send them a note or send Justin a card for his birthday this Saturday. If I do, I could go to jail! And what if I lose, Celia? The judge already has given Katie sole custody of the kids. It’s as if I suddenly don’t even exist.”
Celia stood up, walked over and sat next to him. She placed her hand on his shoulder. “It’s awful, Marty. I don’t know what to say.”
Ted returned with the attorney’s name and number. They called him at his home and scheduled a meeting for the first thing in the morning. Then, Ted and Celia tried to convince Martin to spend his first homeless night as a guest in their home, but he declined.
