A Man Named Dave (13 page)

As I bowed my head, I realized:
That was my father’s entire eulogy.
Ten, twenty words. A lifespan said in a single breath. My father wasn’t even worth a single flower, a prayer offering, anything.
How empty,
I thought,
his entire life spoken within a blink of an eye.
Then I recalled the words:
his four children.
“Oh, my God!” I swore to myself. “She did it again!”

I fired a glance at Mother, who wiped her swollen red eyes with a clean white handkerchief. As always, she didn’t miss the opportunity to make herself the center of attention. Surrounded by
her children
for others to behold, the beloved Mrs Pelzer played the role of the grieving widow to the hilt.

The priest broke my trance. “Peace be with you.”

“And also with you,” the congregation again answered.

“This mass is ended. Go in peace.”

While standing, I maintained my hard stare at Mother, who lost her footing as she struggled to get up. I could hear a series of muffled gasps from the crowd. Per her dramatic display, all eyes turned to Mother. From behind me, I could hear people rushing toward the widow. I shook my head in disgust.

“Dah-veed?” someone called. “Dah-veed, do you remember? You remember us?”

I turned toward an elderly couple standing before me. It took me a moment to realize that they were my old next-door neighbors, Tony and Alice. “You remember us, yah?” Tony asked in broken English. I could remember him smoking his pipe while he pushed his wooden lawn mower across the grass when I was a preschooler. But when I was older, I also recalled that winter when Mother’s game was having me skate up and down the block, nonstop in near-freezing weather, wearing only a worn-out T-shirt and a pair of shorts. Once Tony stepped outside, bundled in a thick jacket, to pick up his evening paper. All we could do was nod at each other. Somehow we both understood. The last time I had seen him was days before I was rescued. Because of the closeness of the houses, you could walk up the stairs that led to the front door and easily see into the small kitchen window of the neighbor’s house, which was just a few feet away. Late in the afternoon, Mother drove her foot into my face as I laid sprawled on the kitchen floor. For a second Tony’s eyes had met mine. Blood was pouring from my mouth and nose. As always, he understood, but was unable to do anything. Times were different back then.

“You be okay now. I see you in the army air corps. You be fine,” Tony said with pride as he held my shoulders. With his wife, Alice, standing beside him, he stated, “We proud of you. Everyone knows. You a goot boy. We all, de whole neighborhood, know about you and Ronald, joining the service. You goot boys. Always goot boys.”

Out of embarrassment, all I could do was nod. “You come to see Tony and Alice when army gives you time to come home.”

Before I could reply, a band of men in dark blue uniforms stepped forward. I swallowed in awe as the group of firemen from Father’s station stopped in front of me. For a moment I thought they had mistaken me for a member of Mother’s party. A man, who I assumed by his commanding presence was the captain of the station, took my hand and whispered into my ear, “Your father was a good man and one hell of a firefighter. Don’t you ever forget that, son.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll remember, Captain,” I promised.

“And do you remember your favorite uncle?” a voice from the past asked.

Among the group Uncle Lee, my father’s longtime partner, emerged, giving me a hug. One by one the men from the station paid their respects, in the process seeming to form a protective shield from Mother.

“Thanks, Lee,” I blurted.

“For what?”

“You know … for
acknowledging
me. I was there when … he passed away. But you guys shouldn’t be with me. I don’t want to do anything that may set her off,” I said, glancing over at Mother.

“‘Acknowledge,’ my ass. Ain’t nothin’ can pry us away. He loved you boys. You, David, need to know that. Maybe he didn’t say it, and maybe he wasn’t there for ya, but he always thought about you kids. Things just … well, they didn’t work out. And if Ronald was here, I’d tell him the same thing. You boys need to know. No one’s perfect. Your father did things I didn’t approve of, but,” Uncle Lee adamantly asserted, “your father wasn’t evil. Whatever his shortcomings, it was never intentional. Get my meaning?”

I nodded my head. “I understand. Thanks, Lee.”

“Listen,” Lee knelt down, “yo
^ur
father gave his helmet to Ron. Do you have his badge?”

Checking behind me to ensure I was safe from prying eyes, I confided, “Yeah, but I’m not so sure I’m supposed to have it. Am I supposed to give it to you guys? What do I do?” I swallowed hard. “Give it to her?”

“Not on your life!” Uncle Lee cried. “Listen up. It’s your father’s way of saying how much you meant to him. He wanted so much to give you kids something, instead of all the hell you boys were put through. David, you got shortchanged quite a bit and” – Lee paused to look in the direction of the pulpit – “and I expect you’re going to get the shaft before this matter is through. You keep it. To your father … well, that badge represents the kind of man he longed to be — on and off the job. To him it’s worth more than any amount of money. Do we have an understanding? What your mother doesn’t know won’t hurt her. So, keep your mouth shut and keep that badge. Do your namesake proud.”

I felt as if I were ten feet tall. For a shining moment, I was a real person.

Outside the church, I shivered from the morning chill. A thick gray blanket of fog swirled above.
“Excuse me?
” Mother interrupted in her best sarcastic, pompous tone,
“Mrs Trewn-bow,
I require a moment alone to speak the with
The Boy.”

Alice – who had suffered years of Mother’s psychotic “disciplinary instructions” on what a burden I was to society in general during late-night drunken ramblings – had had her fill of Mother. Before Mrs Turnbough could give Mother a piece of her mind, I intervened and led Mother to the side of the church. Alone in the empty parking lot, Mother grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. “Just who in the hell do you think you are? What gives you the right to show up at a function like this?”

With my resistance completely drained, I returned to my former position of address – with my head down and my arms locked to my sides. “You called,” I interjected.

“I don’t ever remember placing a call to you … I can’t keep track of everything … and don’t … don’t
you
of all people contradict me … not today … you little shit! I’m not saying I called or didn’t call, and if I did, I did so out of
courtesy.
You should’ve had enough sense to understand that you weren’t welcome. But you were never that bright, were you?

“And what in hell’s bells do you mean by having all those men fondle you as if you were something special?” Stealing a glance at her, I could tell that Mother was truly upset.

“You listen up! I only brought you out here, from your measly air force base, out of the kindness of my heart. I didn’t have to do that, you know. So you stay the hell away from me and my boys! You know
who you are and what you are.
You don’t belong. Don’t you ever, ever, step foot in my house again!” Mother hissed. This time she didn’t use her finger to lift my chin, as she had when I was her prisoner. I looked up on my own and into Mother’s firey-red eyes. Not backing down, Mother leaned closer to me. “Don’t you have something for me? Didn’t
he
give you anything before he passed away?”

Ever so slightly, I uncoiled my fingers on my right hand and ran them across my back pocket. I became less tense when I felt the outline of Father’s prized badge. Without batting an eye, I returned Mother’s cold stare. “No,” I said. “Father did not give me a thing.”

“You’re lying!” Mother shrieked. In the same instant I felt the sting of her hand slapping my face. Maintaining my stance, I let the blood from my bitten lip trickle to the pavement. Her physical assaults no longer hurt me. Mother’s act of aggression was the final nail to her coffin – she had absolutely no control over me, and the only way to dominate me was to beat me. It never really worked when I was a child, and it certainly wouldn’t work now. It also meant that Mother must be desperate to resort to this form of treatment, especially in public.

“I called the hospital … and they checked his belongings. They said he had the papers when he checked in, so don’t stand here and tell me those papers just up and disappeared! And what in the hell gives you the right to dispose of his clothes at his motel? I called and they said you had come by and simply gave them away. So, tell me, tell me just who in the hell gave you the right to march in and –”

“You did!” I interrupted. “When you didn’t visit him. When you deliberately went out of your way not to lift a finger. When you let the father of your children, your husband, someone you’ve known for years, rot away in a deathbed for months. You did
nothing
to help, but everything you could do to make him feel unworthy and isolated,” I fired back, venting my anguish over Father’s treatment. “Whatever I did, I did my best. At least
I
would have had the decency to give Father a proper burial service. I don’t know why you … you hate everybody and everything so much!

“You think you’re the only one who’s been through hell? You’re the source. You made everyone’s, every single person’s life a
living nightmare,
and you thoroughly enjoyed it. You relished it. You had everything. You blew it. Not me, not Father, Grandma, the teachers, the neighbors, your friends, Uncle Dan, Ron, Stan, Russell, or Kevin. It’s not my fault, not then as a kid, and not now! Father deserved better. No matter all the fights, his fault or yours, he deserved better!”

“Why, you pompous, filthy piece of …” Mother muttered under her breath. Again she raised a hand to strike me down.

“Don’t you even think about it!” I shot back. “Know this,” I stated in a low, clear voice, “everything you’ve done to me, to Father, to everyone, will come back to you. The pain, the suffering, the hell … everything!”

“Don’t you – you … try and change the subject,” Mother fumbled. “One of the nurses … told me … he said he saw you … go through his jacket pockets stealing the papers.”

Papers?
I truly had no idea what Mother had been ranting about.
Unless she was referring to when I was first searching for his badge in the hospital… and found a set of documents and stuffed them into my back pocket near my wallet.
My only concern had been for Father’s badge. In all the chaos of dealing with Mother, Grandmother, and the lack of sleep, let alone Father’s needs, I had stupidly forgotten to look over the papers. For all I knew …

My facial expression must have given me away. “Yeah,” I hesitated, “I have ’em. I didn’t mean to … I mean, I meant to give them –”

“Shut up and give me the fuckin’ papers!” Mother ordered.

I could only guess that the papers were some gigantic insurance policy that Father had taken out years ago. Part of me wanted to whip out the papers and watch Mother grovel on her hands and knees as I ripped them to shreds. After years of enduring Mother’s misery, head games, and torture, I now had control over something she desperately craved.
I now called the shots.
But as I stood in front of this pitiful wreck, I realized that my passing fantasy was not the outcome Father would have intended. In all, I still had the prize of prizes. But by withholding the documents, I thought I would somehow discredit whatever dignity Father had.
No matter how many times Mother had plotted to kill me, stooping to her level was something I could not do.

“Here,” I said as I unfolded and presented her the papers. “It was a mistake. I forgot I had them. Really, I did. I never meant to keep anything from you. I would have given them to –”

In a flash Mother snatched the papers. The only time she ever moved with such speed was years ago when she used to beat me. Her eyes sparkled and she sighed with relief. “And now, young man, I indeed have everything I will ever need.”

“You lose,” I smiled.

“What?” Mother asked as she leafed through the papers.

“All those years you tried your best to break me,
and I’m still here.
Father’s finally free, Ron’s in the service, and soon the boys will move out on their own. I’m a good person. I try my best in everything I set out to do. I make mistakes, I screw up, but I learn. I don’t blame others for my problems. I stand on my own. And one day you’ll see, I’m going to make something out of myself. Whether I dig ditches or flip burgers for the air force, I’ll be the best, and somehow, some way, I won’t waste my life away. If you taught me anything, you taught me that.” Turning, I saw Mother’s boys milling around at a safe distance with a small group of adults. I took a half step forward and pointed a finger in Mother’s reddened face.
“Stay away from me.
Everything you’ve done to others …” I stopped as my voice quavered. I could feel whatever energy I had fade away. The last seven days had taken their toll on me. Taking a deep breath, I lowered my finger and backed away. “I pray for you every night, I swear to God, I really do. You may have your papers, your money, whatever. You can hate everybody and everything on this planet, but
you
lose!”

Mother stood with her mouth gaping. Before I left her, I clasped my hands together, then made the sign of the cross and leaned toward her ear, whispering,
“May God be with you, Mrs Pelzer, for no one else will be.”

Ten hours and three thousand miles later, I returned to Hurlburt Field, in Florida, only to discover my somber mood was no match for that of the base. After a small fleet of specially outfitted C-13O cargo aircraft landed, I learned that the air unit had been directly involved in the ill-fated rescue attempt of the American hostages held in Iran. Five of the eight men who gave their lives when a helicopter accidentally sliced into the C-130 had been assigned to Hurlburt Field. To make matters worse, I learned that the men had died the same day Father did.

I woke up in the early morning hours the next day to find I could barely breathe – the sides of my throat had swelled to the size of oranges. After a quick examination at the base’s clinic, I was rushed to the hospital and admitted for severe mononucleosis. Since it was the first time I had ever been admitted as a hospital patient, and coupled with the strain of just losing my father, I was terrified. Because of my condition, I was heavily sedated. As the medicine took effect, I was finally able to lose myself and whatever problems I had through sleep.