familia infimus or "How we almost beat up the guy we used to call dad", part 2
Okay, quick recap. My newly married, pregnant sister has been told by her (grudgingly, OUR)mother that in order to watch her own grandson three days a week while my sister and her husband are both at their prospective jobs, she'll need $50 a week. AND, because dad feels that sister didn't try hard enough to find her cat a home before taking it to the SPCA (he didn't know my brother-in-law took the cat to his and Sister's apartment) , she was to be punished by having the car he gave her as a wedding present taken away. This would keep her from work and sans a suitable mode of transportation for my little nephew and future niece. As her older brothers, Charles, Jason and I decided this wouldn't stand and made plans to gather in Houston and discuss the situation with the parentals, face to face...
I get to Houston around 7:30pm and call sister to let her know. She hadn't told mom and dad we were coming; I told her to make sure it stayed that way. Lindsey's parents, despite knowing the possibilties of the evening, were gracious hosts as always. I got a good homecooked meal for the first time in a week. Charles, Lindsey and Jason got there around 9:45pm. By then, sister had brought our little nephew over and we spent time playing with him awhile; at 11:00 pm he decided sleep was more fun. We sent them back to their apartment to wait out the evening.
It was huddle time, time to get the plan of action together before confronting our parents. Jason had been drinking. We considered that an asset; it meant he would be able to do the things Charles and I were less likely to do if diplomacy failed with mom and dad. We all figured it would in a matter of minutes. But Charles, in the way only he could, stressed to Jason that 'talk' had to take precedent, not action. Perhaps the parents could be persuaded to reason. Perhaps we needed to see their point of view. Perhaps this was all just a big misunderstanding and we could all go away happy that things worked out. Perhaps, but not likely. In truth, we knew talk wouldn't work, but had to say we tried. And we all agreed on the car ride over to mom and dad's house that if one us was going to jail that night, then all of were going to jail that night. Needless to say, our mood was sullen.
We get to the front door just after midnight, looked at each other as if to say, "Well, here goes!" and knocked. I was expecting the parents to either be in bed or playing cards. They weren't. Dad threw open the door and sized up the situation immediately. It had to be the expressions on our faces. He drew in a deep breath, mustering all the condescension and mock-pride he could and let out a large welcome, "Well look here! ALL THREE of my sons have stopped by to see me! This is great!" His tone reassured my sense of impending failure. It had been nearly a year since all of us had been together in one place; he knew our being there on the front porch at that time of night wasn't without cause. Charles edges in, looks him in the face and says, "We need to talk." "Wh- what about?" I walk past and say, "Let's go sit down." Jason says nothing, he just stares the man down as we approach mom.
"Now wait a minute," she stammers, "if this is about [sister] and if you're here to cuss at me like he does (motioning towards Jason) then you can just leave. I won't have that-"
Charles holds up a hand and tells her that we want to hear their side of things and that Jason understands we were all there to talk. The livingroom smelled sour and unkept. Mom and dad had been doing some kind of late night remodeling with Bruce Springsteen blaring on the radio. She sat on the couch and would only look at Charles. He and I were sitting across from her in chairs. Jason decided to stand and flatly rejected dad's half-hearted offer to sit. I could tell dad was scared, but what pride he had left was puffing up like courage on the surface. Jason could hardly contain himself; he was in form. Dad tried standing, but ultimately sat; I think my brother's withering stare was getting to him.
"Let's hear you side of things mom," Charles calmly requested. She started with the activities I already mentioned from three weeks ago. In retrospect, that's how we know she knew our reason for being there. It also betrayed her guilt in this sordid matter. She knew her actions and those of her husband towards our sister were not right in any sense of the word. Her behavior and that of her husband was not worthy of anything approaching honor. The both of them were taking advantage of, or really bullying, a girl who was in need; the fact that this girl also happened to be their daughter didn't seem to faze them at all.
As mom tried to explain herself to Charles and I, dad decided to try and take hold of the situation. I could sense his pride getting the better of him. Afterall, WE were in HIS house. This made him IN CHARGE. How dare his sons- of ALL PEOPLE!- come into his dwelling at that hour, demanding an explaination of HIM?! Towards HIS DAUGHTER! The gall we must have to question his motives!! He looks at Jason, whose stare had only intensified when mom began, and whispers, "Did you just get here?" Jason bites out a curt, "Yep." "What about Dan, did he just get here?" "He flew in." I caught dad's quick glance my way and nodded knowingly. He was trying to size us up and egg Jason on at the same time, but my little gesture threw him off a bit. I wasn't just listening to mom, I was also paying attention to him and Jason. And dad can, when he remembers, be shrewd. He knew that I was the only one big enough to keep Jason in check. What he didn't know and had to gamble on was my willingness to do so.
Mom just got to the part about throwing bottles away that she had bought our nephew when dad tries to interject. I hold up a hand as if to say "hold on", and dad decides to play his "king of the castle" card. "You will not tell me to shut-up in my f*****g house!", he yells. I lean forward in my chair, look him in the eye and with raised voice (but not quite 'yelling') reply, "I didn't tell you to shut up in your f*****g house. I'm trying to-" At this point dad goes to get out of his seat and that's all Jason needed as a sign to end diplomacy.
"That's right! Get your ass outta that chair ol' man! Get up and let me knock you the f**k out!" Jason loves the f-word. He's an artist with it. I hate to admit this, but I love to hear him use the word because I really, really feel he means it in every context. But at that moment I knew what kind of danger we were all in. Jason had been itching to knock the old man out for years. This seemed like as good a time as any. There was three of us to two of them in a confined space that we had been allowed into, our old home! What were the cops to think? No B&E here, no criminal mischief. This was a domestic situation gone terribly wrong! Jason might very well kill the man.
Dad is quick to slide down the couch towards mom and then stand up. His little gamble worked. This gave me just enough room to get between the two of them. Charles sat and watched; I kind of wish I had. "That's right you p***y ass motherf****r! Hide down there by her!" Jason was reaching around me to get at dad. Dad's retort, "Y-y-your the p***y!" I inwardly groaned and was going to tell dad to shut up and stop encouraging the man when Jason knocks me down onto the couch. Folks, at this point, I really was scared for my brother! I'm a big man, heavy too. If I couldn't stop him from beating dad into paste, jail wasn't going to be an option for us, not in the state of Texas!
"That's right you p***y! Step to me! Don't let your fat ass wife stop you! Come face the beast you made!!" Jason has issues with mom and dad that go way back, and now they were surfacing a bit. "You chicken ass b***h! You wanna bully my sister?! Let's take this outside, lemme beat your f*****g ass out in the street! Come on! Face the beast you made!" I'd jumped back up and was between them. Mom was crying out "Stop it! Oh please stop! Get out, you're never welcom here again! I'm calling the police!" Charles stood up as I was pushing Jason down the hall. "We don't wanna go to jail for this bastard Jason. He ain't worth it," was all I kept repeating to him. We get out the front door and Jason proceeded to wake the neighborhood up with the insults he was hurling at the house and those in it. Charles stood at the doorstep, facing mom and dad. "This was poor form dad. We came all this way to talk, and all you did was show your ass." Dad gave his standard answer, "Son, we didn't do anything wrong." "You know dad, that's been the problem between us for so long: You never do anything wrong." "That's right son, we don't." At this point mom chimes in, "Get out and take them with you! None of you are welcom here anymore!" A calm "F**k you", was Charles' reply and with that walked to the car. Jason, still ranting, charges the front door after they close it. I imagine it made quite an impression. As we get in the car, mom makes on last parting shot. She had the phone to her ear, "I'm calling the cops, you better leave!" It was my turn to drop an "f-bomb" and did so.
We took off, dropped Jason at a bar where his friends were hanging out and said our good-byes to him. Charles and I then drove around our old neighborhood for awhile, trying to make sense of what just happened. What had we accomplished? Was sister still going to lose her car? What of the childcare situation? How were we going to help from Oklahoma?
We got back to Lindsey's parents' house quite late. We filled Lindsey in on what happened, called sister as well, then went to bed. We were out of town by 11:00am that morning. Sister calls us later that day to let us know that mom and dad had already changed the locks on the doors, the alarm codes too, and said they didn't understand all this fuss over a cat. As it turns out they also let sister keep her car and mom was going to watch little nephew for free until sister found adequate child care. Funny, these were the topics we'd come all that way to discuss with them, not the cat. And we didn't have time to discuss these things before "diplomacy" failed. Oh well, they got the point. I'll discuss more of the fall out later.
I get to Houston around 7:30pm and call sister to let her know. She hadn't told mom and dad we were coming; I told her to make sure it stayed that way. Lindsey's parents, despite knowing the possibilties of the evening, were gracious hosts as always. I got a good homecooked meal for the first time in a week. Charles, Lindsey and Jason got there around 9:45pm. By then, sister had brought our little nephew over and we spent time playing with him awhile; at 11:00 pm he decided sleep was more fun. We sent them back to their apartment to wait out the evening.
It was huddle time, time to get the plan of action together before confronting our parents. Jason had been drinking. We considered that an asset; it meant he would be able to do the things Charles and I were less likely to do if diplomacy failed with mom and dad. We all figured it would in a matter of minutes. But Charles, in the way only he could, stressed to Jason that 'talk' had to take precedent, not action. Perhaps the parents could be persuaded to reason. Perhaps we needed to see their point of view. Perhaps this was all just a big misunderstanding and we could all go away happy that things worked out. Perhaps, but not likely. In truth, we knew talk wouldn't work, but had to say we tried. And we all agreed on the car ride over to mom and dad's house that if one us was going to jail that night, then all of were going to jail that night. Needless to say, our mood was sullen.
We get to the front door just after midnight, looked at each other as if to say, "Well, here goes!" and knocked. I was expecting the parents to either be in bed or playing cards. They weren't. Dad threw open the door and sized up the situation immediately. It had to be the expressions on our faces. He drew in a deep breath, mustering all the condescension and mock-pride he could and let out a large welcome, "Well look here! ALL THREE of my sons have stopped by to see me! This is great!" His tone reassured my sense of impending failure. It had been nearly a year since all of us had been together in one place; he knew our being there on the front porch at that time of night wasn't without cause. Charles edges in, looks him in the face and says, "We need to talk." "Wh- what about?" I walk past and say, "Let's go sit down." Jason says nothing, he just stares the man down as we approach mom.
"Now wait a minute," she stammers, "if this is about [sister] and if you're here to cuss at me like he does (motioning towards Jason) then you can just leave. I won't have that-"
Charles holds up a hand and tells her that we want to hear their side of things and that Jason understands we were all there to talk. The livingroom smelled sour and unkept. Mom and dad had been doing some kind of late night remodeling with Bruce Springsteen blaring on the radio. She sat on the couch and would only look at Charles. He and I were sitting across from her in chairs. Jason decided to stand and flatly rejected dad's half-hearted offer to sit. I could tell dad was scared, but what pride he had left was puffing up like courage on the surface. Jason could hardly contain himself; he was in form. Dad tried standing, but ultimately sat; I think my brother's withering stare was getting to him.
"Let's hear you side of things mom," Charles calmly requested. She started with the activities I already mentioned from three weeks ago. In retrospect, that's how we know she knew our reason for being there. It also betrayed her guilt in this sordid matter. She knew her actions and those of her husband towards our sister were not right in any sense of the word. Her behavior and that of her husband was not worthy of anything approaching honor. The both of them were taking advantage of, or really bullying, a girl who was in need; the fact that this girl also happened to be their daughter didn't seem to faze them at all.
As mom tried to explain herself to Charles and I, dad decided to try and take hold of the situation. I could sense his pride getting the better of him. Afterall, WE were in HIS house. This made him IN CHARGE. How dare his sons- of ALL PEOPLE!- come into his dwelling at that hour, demanding an explaination of HIM?! Towards HIS DAUGHTER! The gall we must have to question his motives!! He looks at Jason, whose stare had only intensified when mom began, and whispers, "Did you just get here?" Jason bites out a curt, "Yep." "What about Dan, did he just get here?" "He flew in." I caught dad's quick glance my way and nodded knowingly. He was trying to size us up and egg Jason on at the same time, but my little gesture threw him off a bit. I wasn't just listening to mom, I was also paying attention to him and Jason. And dad can, when he remembers, be shrewd. He knew that I was the only one big enough to keep Jason in check. What he didn't know and had to gamble on was my willingness to do so.
Mom just got to the part about throwing bottles away that she had bought our nephew when dad tries to interject. I hold up a hand as if to say "hold on", and dad decides to play his "king of the castle" card. "You will not tell me to shut-up in my f*****g house!", he yells. I lean forward in my chair, look him in the eye and with raised voice (but not quite 'yelling') reply, "I didn't tell you to shut up in your f*****g house. I'm trying to-" At this point dad goes to get out of his seat and that's all Jason needed as a sign to end diplomacy.
"That's right! Get your ass outta that chair ol' man! Get up and let me knock you the f**k out!" Jason loves the f-word. He's an artist with it. I hate to admit this, but I love to hear him use the word because I really, really feel he means it in every context. But at that moment I knew what kind of danger we were all in. Jason had been itching to knock the old man out for years. This seemed like as good a time as any. There was three of us to two of them in a confined space that we had been allowed into, our old home! What were the cops to think? No B&E here, no criminal mischief. This was a domestic situation gone terribly wrong! Jason might very well kill the man.
Dad is quick to slide down the couch towards mom and then stand up. His little gamble worked. This gave me just enough room to get between the two of them. Charles sat and watched; I kind of wish I had. "That's right you p***y ass motherf****r! Hide down there by her!" Jason was reaching around me to get at dad. Dad's retort, "Y-y-your the p***y!" I inwardly groaned and was going to tell dad to shut up and stop encouraging the man when Jason knocks me down onto the couch. Folks, at this point, I really was scared for my brother! I'm a big man, heavy too. If I couldn't stop him from beating dad into paste, jail wasn't going to be an option for us, not in the state of Texas!
"That's right you p***y! Step to me! Don't let your fat ass wife stop you! Come face the beast you made!!" Jason has issues with mom and dad that go way back, and now they were surfacing a bit. "You chicken ass b***h! You wanna bully my sister?! Let's take this outside, lemme beat your f*****g ass out in the street! Come on! Face the beast you made!" I'd jumped back up and was between them. Mom was crying out "Stop it! Oh please stop! Get out, you're never welcom here again! I'm calling the police!" Charles stood up as I was pushing Jason down the hall. "We don't wanna go to jail for this bastard Jason. He ain't worth it," was all I kept repeating to him. We get out the front door and Jason proceeded to wake the neighborhood up with the insults he was hurling at the house and those in it. Charles stood at the doorstep, facing mom and dad. "This was poor form dad. We came all this way to talk, and all you did was show your ass." Dad gave his standard answer, "Son, we didn't do anything wrong." "You know dad, that's been the problem between us for so long: You never do anything wrong." "That's right son, we don't." At this point mom chimes in, "Get out and take them with you! None of you are welcom here anymore!" A calm "F**k you", was Charles' reply and with that walked to the car. Jason, still ranting, charges the front door after they close it. I imagine it made quite an impression. As we get in the car, mom makes on last parting shot. She had the phone to her ear, "I'm calling the cops, you better leave!" It was my turn to drop an "f-bomb" and did so.
We took off, dropped Jason at a bar where his friends were hanging out and said our good-byes to him. Charles and I then drove around our old neighborhood for awhile, trying to make sense of what just happened. What had we accomplished? Was sister still going to lose her car? What of the childcare situation? How were we going to help from Oklahoma?
We got back to Lindsey's parents' house quite late. We filled Lindsey in on what happened, called sister as well, then went to bed. We were out of town by 11:00am that morning. Sister calls us later that day to let us know that mom and dad had already changed the locks on the doors, the alarm codes too, and said they didn't understand all this fuss over a cat. As it turns out they also let sister keep her car and mom was going to watch little nephew for free until sister found adequate child care. Funny, these were the topics we'd come all that way to discuss with them, not the cat. And we didn't have time to discuss these things before "diplomacy" failed. Oh well, they got the point. I'll discuss more of the fall out later.
posted by BigDan67 | 11:53 PM
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