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A Mother and Son Escape Ch. 01

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“Dammit Becky, I’ve been at work all day and when I get home I just want a little peace and quiet. Is that too much to ask?” Dad was angry again. This was becoming more and more common. He would spend all day at a job he hated to come home and take everything out on mom. Each episode was worse than the previous one. It wasn’t always like this. He wasn’t always like this. Every time he would walk in the door it was as if a weight of awkwardness and fear settled on the house. Mom and I both knew he had started drinking again, but refused to say anything. His temper kept getting more and more out of control. If you’ve ever lived with an alcoholic then you know how trying and stressful it can be. You know how the fear controls you.

I sat alone on the stairs listening to him berate my mother, the same woman that he claimed to love. I was torn apart inside. Torn between trying to protect my mom and trying to not get punched in the face by Dad. I heard a glass crash against the wall. This was the tell tale sign that Mom was really starting to get upset. “Leave me alone, Jim! Sleep it off and leave me alone!” The rattle in her voice told me that she was now crying. Sitting there on the stairs endless thoughts began to flood my mind. “What happened to make Dad start drinking? Why does he have to take it out on Mom? How far will this go before someone gets seriously hurt?” l felt the tears begin to well up in my eyes. The headache from trying to hold back those tears was starting to form right behind my eyes. I knew that I couldn’t let the old man see me like this. It would only show weakness and give him more control over this house. In a dash I bolted upstairs to try to get away from the fury and rage that was playing out in the kitchen. “I’ll study. That will take my mind off of things,” I thought to myself. I had a big test coming up anyways.

Let me give you a little back story. My name is Jason and I am eighteen years old. I had just graduated from high school and instead of going away to college like most of my friends did I decided to stay at home and become a paramedic. I thought that if I were close by then Dad wouldn’t get too out of control with Mom. I have never been a big guy and I certainly never was a popular guy. In high school I was that one boy who was always alone. I wasn’t alone because I didn’t have any friends. I just liked it that way. I enjoyed being able to eat lunch and study in the quad at school without people hounding me or bothering me. My entire life I have been a loner. I am 5’11 and have your average build which always helped me blend into the background and keep out of people’s way. My dark hair and eyes I got from my father. It’s almost like looking at him every time I look in the mirror. Needless to say, seeing a mean drunk staring back at you in the mirror doesn’t do much for your self esteem.

Dad was a different sort except for the facial features. He stood around 6’4 and having been a football player in college he was a pretty big guy. I think that’s where a lot of the intimidation comes in. When he was in college he was your stereotypical frat boy. The poster child for douchebags. From the stories I have been told he seems to have grown out of it, but his pompousness will still occasionally break through. But he never really picked on me about my size except for when he did it in a joking and fun manner. Unfortunately I haven’t seen the joking side of him in a while. He has had a fairly successful career in the advertising industry. You may have seen a few of his commercials on television. His drinking came in spurts. He would go a couple of years without a sip and then he would fall off the wagon and seem to constantly be drunk.

Mom was a little different. She was your standard southern belle. She was raised in Georgia and her and Dad met in college. She was a cheerleader and class president. While she was extremely popular she never let it go to her head. Dad once confessed to me that she always was able to stop him from being too much of a jerk when they were in college. Like Dad she is forty. They had me right after graduation. She is 5’9 with alabaster skin, blond hair and blue eyes. For forty she has remained in decent shape. She no longer has the cheerleader body, but I don’t think that too many women regain that body after having a kid. There is a slight sag to her breasts that come with age and her crows feet around her eyes are starting to show. She still turns heads wherever she goes which always brings a smile to her face since Dad is either ignoring her or yelling at her.

It’s kinda weird. When Dad is on one of his sobriety kicks he and I are best friends. At least we were. And when he is off the wagon and spiraling out of control mom and I become best friends. Does that make me a bad son or a hypocritical son? Maybe it does, but that’s just the way I am. I’ve always been a momma’s boy and I think that’s why I get so close to dad when he gets on a sobriety kick. kilis seks hikayeleri I don’t want him to think that I’m any less of a man. Mom understands me more than anyone else. She lets me be who I am and who I want to be and she has always encouraged that in me. I played peewee football as a kid, but that was just to make Dad happy. I think he just wanted me to carry on his legacy or something like that. But sports was never really my thing. I was always happy with my face in a book. Looking back I think there was a part of me that used books as an escape to get away from Dad’s drinking. I would rather be exploring the ocean depths with Captain Nemo than listen to Dad yelling.

Anyways, that brings us back to the story at hand. As I sat upstairs studying my anatomy notes and text book I could still hear him yelling at Mom about something or other. With my door shut the voices were muffled, but I could still recognize the tone in Dad’s voice. After a while my curiosity got the better of me and I returned to the stairs to listen in hopes that he wouldn’t get too out of control. The closer I got the louder it became. My pulse began to quicken and my whole body began to tremble. I wanted to go protect Mom, but I knew that if I did that it would only make matters worse. I remember one time as a kid I ran into their room while Dad was on a tirade. With tears in my eyes I raised my water gun at Dad and said, “Leave her alone now Daddy! Leave her alone or I’ll shoot you.” That was the first time my face saw the back of his hand. His menacing laugh that night still echoes in my head. That same night Mom came to me with a tear stained face and puffy eyes. This is my first memory of the effect his drinking had on her. I can still smell the jasmine scent of her shampoo and the softness of her hands as she stroked my cheek and hair. I don’t know if it’s a mother’s intuition, but she always knew how to comfort me and she still does.

“Leave me alone Jim! Please just stop,” she screamed through her son’s. Her voice was still shaky and rattled. It broke my heart that she was so terrified of her own husband. I knew that it was just a matter of time before he crashed on the couch giving mom some peace.

Her demand for him to stop only seemed to spur him on. “Jesus Christ, Becky! This is my house! I pay the mortgage and the bills and put food on this table! You sit at home all day long doing only God knows what! Why can’t you be a normal wife and know your role? You’re the reason our son has become such a pussy!!!”

I heard another crash and I could tell that someone had thrown another glass or a plate or something. “He’s your son, Jim! He’s your only son! How can you speak that way about him? What did he ever do to you except try to make you proud?”

After hearing that I became a flurry of emotions. I was surprised that Mom was defending me while she was having to deal with him. I was even surprised to hear him call me a pussy. He’d told me that he was disappointed in me numerous times, but he had never called me names before. Feelings of fear and anger and surprise were all rising to the surface. My shaking and trembling intensified. My jaws were clinched shut as I ground my teeth. And my face was beet red. Beads of sweat were beginning to form on my forehead and chest and back. Before I knew it I had grabbed the nine iron from Dad’s golf bag in the hall closet and charged into the kitchen. Those few seconds were a blur. I can still hear his laugh when I threw open the swinging door to the kitchen. It was that creepy mad scientist laugh.

“Who the fuck do you think you are with my golf club,” he asked. “When did you grow a pair of balls? What are you gonna do with that thing?”

Moms eyes were huge and her jaw was on the floor the look of surprise and shock on her face was unlike anything I had ever scene. There was a look of fear in her eyes…fear that he may turn his wrath on me…fear that I would no longer be just a screaming match.

I felt like my heart was about to leap out of my chest or that I would throw up. I wasn’t sure which one it was going to be. I had never stood up to him or anyone like this before. A nervous lump formed in my throat and I immediately swallowed it away in an attempt to hide any fear or weakness. I would swallow it down to only have it immediately return. It’s almost impossible to swallow when your mouth is completely dry.

“Back up, Jim!!! Stay the hell away from her!!! Sleep it off or I swear to God I will swing until I can’t stop!” I had never called my father by his first name before. The instant it left my mouth I knew it was a mistake. I was in the middle of one of those out of body experiences. I knew it was me saying these things, but it was impossible to believe. The momentary look of bewilderment on the assholes face told me that he was just as surprised as I was. “Jim, I know just where to hit you with this club. Do you really want to try me right now?” I asked getting angrier and angrier with each passing second.

From the corner of my eye I could see Mom on her knees with her face buried in her hands. I wanted to comfort her, but I didn’t want to lose the higher ground that I had if I had any at all. A bead of sweat fell into my eye and the salt burned. I quickly brought my shoulder to my eye to wipe it away.

“You son of a bitch! You just called me Jim! I am Dad to you, young man! If you want to live in this house you will show me the respect I deserve, you little shit,” he screamed furiously. He downed the rest of his drink and slammed his glass on the kitchen table. I knew that he wouldn’t throw the glass while liquor was still in it but now all bets were off. A vein in his forehead was starting to show. Turning his head from side to side I heard his neck pop. If he was trying to intimidate me it was definitely working. He began to slowly approach. I raised the golf club like a major league baseball player getting ready to knock it out of the park.

“Don’t come any closer or I swear I will swing, Dad! Try me and take one more step. I swear to God that I will do it, Dad!”

Mom was in the corner now and still crying and shaking. She was sitting on the floor and her knees were brought up to her chest. She was trying to make herself as small as possible. I later read somewhere that that is a defense mechanism. “Please Jason, Honey, don’t do it. Please, Sweetie, put the club down.”

All I could think is “how could she be trying to help him. How could she not want me to defend her? How could she expect me to sit idly by and watch him treat her like this?” My adrenaline was pumping and I knew that there was no backing out now. I knew that no matter how much she begged me to stop that I couldn’t because it would only give the old man more power and leverage. As he approached I gathered what little courage I had left and closed my eyes and swung the club. I heard a pop and then a thud. When I opened my eyes I saw that he was on the floor and his kneecap had moved from the front of his leg to the side. The look on my father’s face was something I had never seen before. It was a combination of surprise and pain and even fear.

Dad was screaming. I had never seen this man show any sign of pain or weakness. It was almost surreal seeing his vulnerability. When he reached for the counter I swung again. This time instead of a pop I heard a crack. It was his wrist. The cracking sound was followed by a howl of pain. I was in shock. I didn’t think I had it in me. I didn’t think I would actually be able to do it. I thought that I would give into my fear and run. A new since of fear rushed over my body and my sweaty hands dropped the club. Mom was still on the floor. She had stopped crying and was now sitting there frozen. She couldn’t speak or blink or even move. I rushed to her side as quickly as I could and pulled her into a hug trying to comfort her. It was the same kind of hug she would give me as a kid after I had a nightmare. We were both shaking and our hearts were pounding.

“Let’s go Mom. Let’s get out of here. I don’t think he’ll be moving anytime soon, but we have to move now.” I began to stroke her soft hair in an attempt to calm her as I held her in my arms. I could tell that she was unable to move so I scooped her up in my arms and rushed her out of the kitchen. I carried her up the stairs and down the hallway and through their bedroom door. I quickly grabbed a suitcase from her closet and asked her to pack. She was still silent. Now it was her silence that was starting to scare me. I was worried that she was mad at me for hitting him or disappointed in me or worst of all afraid of me. After a moment I could tell that she wanted to speak, but it was as if the words were caught in her throat. As she sat on the bed I began to pack some things for her.

“What does a woman need? What should I pack? How should I pack?” I questioned myself. After a minute Mom began to help me. She gathered together some underwear and a few bras and seemed to be rushing to pack them away. Her head turned toward me. “Jason, go honey. I’m afraid we won’t have much time to get out of here. Go!”

I saw myself in the mirror and I stood there for a moment just staring back at myself. I couldn’t believe that I actually hit him. I couldn’t believe that I actually stood up to him. I was in a trance as I watched myself in the mirror. I felt Mom lightly shake my shoulder bringing me back to reality. “Right Mom, I’ll be back in a few. We have to hurry.”

With that I hurriedly rushed down the hallway and began packing my own suitcase. I’m just grabbing the necessities, clothes, underwear, deodorant, tooth brush and toothpaste as quickly as I could. I knew what ever hotel we stayed at would have shampoo and soap. I grabbed my school books and supplies and rushed back to my parents bedroom. I could still hear moans coming from the kitchen downstairs. The old man was beyond pissed now. I could almost see the fire in his eyes.

“Ready, Mom? Let’s get out of here before that bastard is able to pop his kneecap back in and able to get up.” As mom grabbed her purse I grabbed her suitcase and we rushed to the car as quickly as possible. My hands were shaking so badly that I could barely put the key in the door. Eventually I was able to unlock it and pop the trunk. I loaded in our bags and returned to find Mom sitting in her seat tapping her foot on the floorboard of the car anxious to get out of there. As we pulled out of the driveway and drove off I kept my eyes glued to the rearview mirror watching the house lights fade as we got further away. As soon as we were out of the neighborhood we both breathed a sigh of relief. We knew that it wasn’t over, but hopefully it was for the night.

Mom grabbed my hand and looked over at me giving it a light squeeze. “Jason, Sweetie, I’m sorry that you had to do that. I know that it wasn’t easy. Don’t worry, Honey, I’m not mad at you. I’m just…I’m just…in shock.” Her voice was still trembling as she tried to comfort and calm me. I suppose it’s a motherly thing. I looked over at her and forced a smile.

“Mom, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who should’ve stopped him sooner. It was my job to protect you. I’m sorry it took me so long. I’m sorry that I had to do it at all. I’m not a little boy anymore and it shouldn’t have taken me so long to grow a pair and get us out…get you out.”

Trying to put my fears and worries at ease she lightly patted my thigh a couple of times. “Sweetie, it’s understandable. He’s your father. He should be protecting us not the other way around. Besides, he’s twice your size and very intimidating. I don’t blame you one bit. That’s why I stayed for so long. I didn’t know how to get out. I had thought about running in the middle of the night, but there is no way I was going to leave you alone.”

As the sky grew darker we began to slowly relax. Our shaking had softened and our tears had dried and our hearts had remained in our chests, but at least we were breathing normally.

“Honey, we haven’t had dinner? Are you hungry? We should stop and get something. We’re going to have a busy day tomorrow and should probably have something on our stomachs.”

Instead of finding a restaurant I decided to find a hotel. We decided to check into the Holiday Inn on the other side of town. After checking in and finding our room Mom ordered Chinese to be delivered from the restaurant down the street.

“Jason, I’m going to take a shower and try to wash the smell of your father off of me. If the food gets here my wallet is in my purse. Okay, Honey?”

I sat back on one of the beds and flipped on the TV. “Sure thing, Mom. No problem. Enjoy your shower.” I began to flip through the channels hoping to find something to occupy my mind. All I was finding were sports and not being a sports fan it looked like I wasn’t gonna have much luck finding something to keep my attention. There was a knock at the door and for the briefest moment my stomach turned. For a second I thought it was Dad before I realized that there’s no way he could’ve found us already. I deluded myself into thinking that surely he would go to the hospital before trying to find us. When I opened the door another sigh of relief escaped my lips as I saw that it was only the delivery guy. After paying and tipping the man I smiled and closed the door thanking him politely.

“Mom, dinners here whenever you’re ready,” I said loudly so that she could hear me over the running water. I sat on the bed and began to pull everything out. Mom had asked for her favorite, the orange chicken and I asked for the beef with broccoli. The smell was amazing. My stomach was growling and I almost dug in before realizing how rude that would be and that Mom would be out in a minute.

A minute later Mom came out of the bathroom. She had a towel wrapped around her chest that hung to mid thigh. Her long wet hair was almost hypnotizing as it clung to her small shoulders. The the scent of her shampoo wafted through the room. I can’t get enough of that sweet jasmine smell. She ran her fingers through her wet hair and began to rub it dry with a towel. It was obvious that the shower helped relax her. The smile on her face was genuine. She brought a smile to mine along with a nervous lump in my throat. Taking a sip of Coke I swallowed it away, only this time, to my relief, it didn’t return.

“Go ahead and eat up, Honey. You don’t have to wait for me. It’ll get cold,” Mom said as she looked through her suitcase. I heard a sigh of frustration come from where she was standing. She was in such a hurry she had forgotten to grab her pajamas. I watched as she walked into the bathroom. She was so graceful it was almost as if she was glidi. A couple of minutes later she returned wearing her old Bon Jovi T-shirt and a pair of boy shorts. “I’m sorry, Honey, but I forgot to bring something to sleep in. I hope this doesn’t make you too uncomfortable.”

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