“I need my blanket. The soft blue fleece next to my cheek at night reminds me of grandma”
Angies crumpled body posture spoke volumes as this blanket, made by her deceased mother, provided Lance comfort since birth.
Straightening her back and pushing up her sleeves Angie said, “Well tonight I’m going to give you a new snuggle blanket. As you grow older it’s time for a new one anyway.”
“Can I have my new snuggle blanket mom?” Lance asked.
Placing her hands on her lap Angie realized her apron from work sat tied around her waist. Pulling at the apron strings tied around her back as it unloosened Angie pulled it from around her waist and said, “It right here. We’d better settle down for the night.”
“Thank you mom, it’s wonderful. Lance said.
Lance immerged himself in his mother’s scent that had interwoven itself in the apron. He rubbed the soft cloth against his cheek and smiled as he released an appreciative sigh.
“We’d better call it a night Lance. Tomorrow looks as busy as today and I need to figure out better arrangements for us.”
Once inside the Buick again Angie wove her hands into her hair and pulled at the ends while her voice dropped. She glimpsed at the gas gauge a second time. Lance began to settle in with animated gesturing. Stretching out his legs and becoming comfortable in the car Lance began to tell Angie jokes. She chuckled, humoring him, while inside feelings of humiliation churned at their sleeping arrangements.
“Goodnight Lance I will see you in the morning.”
“Goodnight mom.”
The storm loomed overhead threatening a safe night’s passage into the next and kept Angie on edge most of the night. The thermometer showed the temperature sat at ten degrees below zero while the snow fell with fury. Angie and Lance lie there, defenseless, like bear-cubs in an exposed den.
“How did you sleep baby?” Angie asked struggling to swallow all remnants of the frothy film.
The stagnant air inside the old Buick resonated like acrid smog. Throat parched while trying to clear it Angelia had no choice, she swallowed the frothy mucus of the night’s slumber. With much trepidation, the gulp commenced. Looking to Lance as his red-rimmed slits began to let in a new day, pride once again took a backseat.
“I slept good Mom, did you?”
“I did as well. Thank you my dear.”
At once, her hand tried to reposition her disheveled hair. Bitterness crept in due to losing their home as strands of dead protein met her sweaty palm. Saturated with two days dandruff and oil secretions, her hair appeared grotesque and left her feeling angular. Ashamed and embarrassed she sat motionless as anger resumed its trump position.
Looking at her smiling Lance said, “Happy Birthday Mom; I love you.”
“Thank you honey; I love you too.”
“Sorry I did not get you a present.”
“I have what I want; you.”
What force ripped the pages of my life and tossed them aside like a tattered Barbie? Life now resembles the hands of time spinning out of control leaving me directionless like a rolling soda can.
Feelings of inadequacy welled over Angie while pushing the hair across her slick forehead as she entered her insane reality. Wiping her dampened eyes, a sole thought invaded her mind, killing Craig, for the hand he dealt them.
$50,000 in child will change our lives and fails in comparison when you just inherited $120,000 and own your own business you filthy pig!
“Lance, do you have to use the restroom?”
“Yeah mom, do you?”
“Yes baby. However, the library still isn’t open.”
Angie started the car and drove down the street to the library. The Farmington Hills public library did not open until 9:00 A.M., yet the night’s slumber always gave way to nature calling upon arising. Their lone alternative; go behind the building. Skid row somehow had crept in without permission. It didn’t matter if someone saw them as they lost that luxury.
“C’mon baby we’ll go back here.”
Angie’s positions herself behind the dumpster, Lance on the side of it. Squatting and releasing pressure the trickling urine splashing lightly off the ground hit her ankles and reminded her when she and Craig met. Rich sultry sounds of pistons firing as Craig pulled into the lot sent chills running down her spine. The Indian appeared spit shined like a marines shoes and his first truelove. Beneath his leather jacket laid the land of milk and honey. They first met each other in junior year.
Stopping at the drinking fountain Angie’s eyes met Craig’s that gave way to a deep impassioned glance. Self-assured in his demeanor Craig said, “Want to share any of that?”
Craig’s line dug deep and snagged hers; hormones I suppose. His masculine scent overwhelmed her senses as she welled with intense temptation. Amid a quickened heart rate, her flirtatious side awoke from hibernation and said “Maybe.”
Looking deep into her eyes his leg brushed against hers tempting a lovesick teen. Angie’s palms sweat while expecting his next move as her desire for this seductive man grew with each passing second while she examined his strong physique. The scent of his Polo cologne sent her circuits popping like fireworks on a sultry summer night. Grinning with an air of perfection about him he purred, “Well now, why haven’t we met before Sunshine.”
With minimal effort, a casual nod of Craig’s head gave reason for his hair to fall on his shoulder while his shrewd sailing eyes never rested in dangerous territory. Lust overtook Angie’s senses as quick as water cascades over Niagara Falls. Her body signaled no round-trip requested.
First on the agenda Angie kept her composure and said, “Glad our paths crossed Viking.”
“Can we cross our paths again after school Sunshine?” Craig said.
“Sure”
An intruder pushed his way to the drinking fountain. As the cool water hit the metallic bottom of the fountain it splashed and hit Angie’s ankles as he said, “Excuse me can I get a drink?”
Angie wiped and tossed the paper in the dumpster and entered back into a grim reality. She wound out the outhouse visit by taking long strides over the puddle of urine as an unexpected release of tension occurred when thoughts of Craig trailed off.
“Come on baby.”
Reaching for Lance’s hand their feet moved in unison back to the old Buick.
Breaking into song Lance chanted, “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear mommy happy birthday to you.”
Kissing his forehead Angie said, “Thank you baby I love you.”
Walking past the side of the library Angie noticed the tire swing in the park across from the courthouse. It hung there lamenting in the hostile environment as its fibers began to show wear. She empathized with the tire swing feeling as betrayed as it did withering in the harsh environment forced on it.
“Thinking about Grandma?” Lance asked with a smile.
“Yes dear; thinking about your guardian angel watching over you.”
Opening the door to the Buick made Angie cringe. Always a curious moment filled with doubt as the handle, broken in half from top to bottom, sent her heart racing with each attempt. Like a gentle giant, Angie grasped the remaining right half and gave a slight tug. The torture of answering whether they would gain access to their home rested heavy on her mind. Then stern logic would set in and caution would prevail. Tugging on it, exhaling, with a deep sigh of relief it opened - this time. Angie let her guard down for a moment.
“See mom happy birthday.” Lance said with a beaming smile.
“After we eat we’re treating ourselves to a shower this morning before court. Perhaps this time we will collect the $50,000.”
Fifteen minutes of dry cereal resembling volcanic rocks left both Angie and Lance pining for better days.
"Lance they have opened the library. Let's go inside and get ready to go.”
Taking Lance and their bag of essentials into the women’s restroom, that slight tugging sensation began in her abdomen. Her
mind searched for a moist sensation. In rapid succession like firing bombs, a slight backache and heavy breasts grabbed the reigns. Cramps began to heighten in intensity as the grim reality of their lives settled in.
Shit! Please not now I have no money how can I buy tampons?
While Lance brushed his teeth, an inquisition began in Angie’s mind. With cramps growing in intensity she said to Lance, “Keep brushing while I go to the bathroom.”
“Okay Mom I will.”
Like a prince born into royalty, except she lacked the ability to abscond, it had arrived.
Oh God why me?
Angie would have bargained with God that morning offering her Buick in retribution if given the chance.
Limited choices leave me ill equipped. What wrongs have I done to deserve this?
Hidden behind the veil of the stall door Angie shook her head in denial. Sweat began to pour from Angie’s skin as her mind searched in angst for answers to the problem beginning to flow before her eyes.
Think Angie think. The feminine product machine on the wall.
“Lance stay here baby I’ve got to go talk to the receptionist.”
“Okay mom. I will take my turn going to the bathroom.”
Ingenuity forced Angie’s mind into overdrive. First on the agenda, court and the lurch Angie found herself and Lance in.
“Okay baby, remember to put paper down on the seat. We don’t want to catch any bugs.”
“Yeah creepy crawlers, like snakes, are good pets, but not good on you.”
“That’s right honey.”
Walking to the front desk Angie’s thoughts pulled together and harmonized like a string quartet. She’d hoped the invented story would convince the clerk holding the key to resolve her urgent need for a tampon.
“Hi. I put my money in the machine for a feminine product and the machine took my money.”
Bothered by Angie’s interruption this male receptionist removed his I-Pod ear-bud and said, “What?”
“A tampon.” she said in a higher decibel in hopes of making him squirm.
People had begun to filter in the library and she knew this jargon would make this young man uncomfortable.
Turning up the decibels Angie said, “The machine took my money but didn't give me a tampon.”
In an instant, the man threw her four quarters and waved her off with his right hand just as his left replaced the ear bud. Walking back to the bathroom Angie felt a deep sense of satisfaction.
Good for you damn resourceful with slim pickings!
Making the other half squirm brought about a deep sense of pleasure that morning. Apprehension welled inside Angie as she slid quarters into the machine. Her hand clutched the handle amid the same fear she tempted fate with opening the Buick door. As the slender cotton essential slid to the take-out-port, an ingenious grin overtook her mouth due to her resourcefulness.
“You ready honey let’s go live in luxury and enjoy a hot shower at the Flying J Truck Stop before court.”
“Ready mom.”
Making their way across the parking lot where the Buick sat among swirling snow that resembled miniature dust devils, Angie fidgeted as if somehow it would make time pass quicker. Apprehension stared back from her reflection on the glass; her hand trembled as she reached for the handle.
Please God let it open. I have to go to court. If it does not open, we could never walk there in time and I have no money for bus fare. Please God…
Chapter 3
“Lance the actions of your father have left us in a living hell. We have few choices and they have forecast a blizzard. We need to find a permanent residence after tonight as we can no longer live at our home.”
If Craig paid me the $50,000 Lance and I would still have our home. I will see Craig Freeman get back exactly what he dished out!
“Aren’t we going to the church that gave us food before; Sister Luvia will help us.” Lance said.
Angie’s mind pondered the unthinkable. Her trembling hands lent the uncomfortable feeling as mind’s eye saw Craig with a smashed and unrecognizable face as liter upon liter of blood oozed from his crushed skull. Broken limbs twisted and contorted like an abused Barbie doll with gaping wounds that oozed pus and smelled of rotten fish and ammonia.
“Mom. Mom I’ve called you a couple times. Why won’t you answer me? Can we go to Sister Luvia’s?” Lance asked.
Angie’s mind uncoiled a bit at the thought of dependable help from Sister Luvia and her mood turned upbeat. Sister Luvia always offered them a warm meal and kinship.
Lance’s abundant energy reminds me of a horse catching the sweet scent of alfalfa. It appears he can sense when we’re going to see Sister Luvia.
“Come on Lance we’re here.”
“Good evening Sister Luvia I’m happy to see you.”
“Good evening dear daughter.” Sister Luvia said with a gentle palm placed under Angie’s chin.
“Why do you look sad tonight? You and Lance look healthy?”
Angie’s throat thickened and her eyes filled with tears as she said, “We have good health in our corner.”
“Sister Margaret, please take Lance to the dining room and get him dinner.”
“Sure. Come on dear.” Sister Margaret said extending God’s grace in her outstretched hand.
Angie burst into tears and Sister Luvia asked, “My child, please explain your difficulties to me.”
“The bank auctioned our home; we now live in the car. We have nowhere to go and no one to turn to. I feel like a failure. To the neighbors, I appear as guilty as Craig does. Perhaps in many ways their beliefs bear merit, as I encouraged him to become an insurance agent.”
“Now dear, your situation will get better; look on the bright side, trust me. Perhaps the time’s arrived for you to grab the reins of your life. Didn’t you tell me before your last visit that you lived in his shadow while he lived out his dreams? Let your dreams inspire you; didn’t you say you wanted to become a private investigator?”
“Yes I do. First, Lance and I need warm shelter. Craig hasn’t paid child support even though he’s received $120,000 in an inheritance. The court does nothing to help us collect child support payments. Craig’s managed to bribe the judge somehow. Although he doesn’t pay, he’s never imprisoned. Craig infuriates me! Forgive me Sister Luvia, I feel like plunging a knife in his heart.”
“Dearest one, you both enjoy good health and a strong mother-son bond. I can sense that you feel hopeless now. Remember he failed you and Lance by not upholding his end of the bargain to love, honor and cherish. Take joy in what you have and do not focus on this man’s misgivings. Angie, people receive one chance to make a first impression on Jesus. Death and judgment parallel life because Jesus judges our actions not intentions. Come my dear let us go and sit at table with the Lord and share in his bounty.”
“You have a way of making me feel brave after speaking to you. Thank you.” Angie said embracing Sister Luvia.
Sister Luvia’s kindness lent a pleasant feeling of home to Lance and Angie. Each time they appear at the door, tired and hungry, open arms welcome them. Sister Luvia’s gentle nature and kind words reassured Angie of better days on the horizon. The church bells sounded and the soft fluid hum resonated deep in Angie’s soul comforting her like a warm spring rain.
“My dear take this list of shelters in the area. God bless you and you young man.”
“Thank you sister, I do not know what I would do without your kindness. Thank you for the deck of cards for Lance.”
“You’re welcome my dear.” Sister Luvia said.
Lance and Angie left with their arms wrapped around kindness consisting of cereal, canned fruit, powdered milk and peanuts. This act of generosity by these selfless people moved Angie to tears.
“Mom, can we go home?”
“No Lance, sorry tonight we will stay in a shelter.”
While driving to the shelter similarities between Craig’s determination to become a business magnate and Richar
d Nixon’s infatuation with the presidency filled Angie’s head. At one point Richard Nixon candidly discussed putting a hit on a journalist he didn’t like. Craig knew no boundaries; close friends and neighbors equated to fair game. Like a car at the junk yard and sold for scrap metal, Craig crushed anyone who stood in his path to success.
“I want to go home and play?”
“We’re not spending the night at home tonight Lance we’re going to stay with some new friends.” Angie said hiding her intruding feelings of failure.
“Oh, good some new friends, that sounds like fun.”
Passing by a long stretch of the CSX railway that paralleled the road Angie drove on, a freight train took the lead as she lumbered through snow-covered streets at a turtles pace. Driving toward the Beacon of Hope Homeless Shelter, she questioned how to undo the injustices forced on her and Lance. Any sense of normalcy she and Lance knew long ago had now vanished. Angie’s thoughts traveled back to her economics class years ago where GM bought all the local railway companies in LA.
Likenesses abound between GM’s old antitrust racket and Craig’s monopoly. A few years after GM bought every railway company in L.A. not a single electric streetcar ran in LA. Craig, the sole workmen’s comp insurance provider in our town, forced all the businesses into bankruptcy.
Angie’s somber mood continued as she replayed all the intimidating slurs thrown her way by former clients of Craig’s as she and Lance left the auctioned home. It made sense now.
By bullying the insured when they needed to make a claim and fear of raised premiums that would bankrupt them, many business owners settled these claims out of their personal finances. In the waiting, Giannola Enterprises LLC, owned by Martin’s brother-in-law Anthony, absorbed the bankrupt companies.
Annoyed, Lance asked, “We there yet?”
“No!” Angie said with an emotion-choked voice as the depth of the betrayal began to sink in and sting.
The car sputtered and rolled to a stop. Angie and Lance, still miles from the homeless shelter and out of alternatives, will brave the cold.
Enraged while wearing indignation on her forehead Angie said, “I can’t believe this; first we’re thrown out of our home and now this! Lance the car ran out of gas we have to walk!”
ISOLATION: Child Support 911 Page 2
