The names have been changed, here, in order to protect the guilty -- and me. (I don't want the crazy people I'm talking about, here, suing me just for telling the truth.)
The homes around our intersection, here on Warwick Road, had always been somewhat famous among Borough officials for housing some of the prettiest ladies in Magnolia. One fire company chief told me, "Pete, you're wife's a beauty, and then there was Melony across the side street from your house, who has been replaced by Melody, Grant's wife. And across Warwick Road there's Nora! Whew! Did you ever see Nora outside the house mowing the lawn in her bikini?!"
Yes, I had. Every red-blooded American male within a 100 mile radius had seen Nora mowing the lawn in her bikini. But the life of the couple with the beautiful wife who did the lawn in her bikini was a lot more complicated than anyone knew.
When my wife Rise` and I first made the acquaintance with their family, I actually tried to befriend the husband, Bob. It was he -- not the pretty little thing that did the lawn in her bikini -- who first attracted my attention.
He was the hardest working human being I had ever seen. Always working, working, working at home, when he wasn't at work.
But I quickly discovered that he wasn't interested in doing anything with any man friends. What he wanted to do, when he wasn't at work, is stay at home and control his wife. He micro-managed her to a shocking extent, whenever I was over there in their house trying unsuccessfully to get him to do "man things" with me, like traipsing through the North Jersey woods looking for antiquities with me and my oldest son, or watching a B-1B Lancer bomber at the Millville Airshow do a flyover in a vapor cone and listening to its sonic boom -- that kind of "man thing."
He was the hardest working human being I had ever seen. Always working, working, working at home, when he wasn't at work.
But I quickly discovered that he wasn't interested in doing anything with any man friends. What he wanted to do, when he wasn't at work, is stay at home and control his wife. He micro-managed her to a shocking extent, whenever I was over there in their house trying unsuccessfully to get him to do "man things" with me, like traipsing through the North Jersey woods looking for antiquities with me and my oldest son, or watching a B-1B Lancer bomber at the Millville Airshow do a flyover in a vapor cone and listening to its sonic boom -- that kind of "man thing."
In short order, his wife was more of a friend to me than he was. Nora, it turned out, had genius-level intelligence, in my estimation, but an astonishingly low level of education, knowledge and experience.
Finally, one day we were invited to a party over at their house.
At all times during the party, Bob was shouting instructions at Nora, telling her to do this and do that, to wait on guests while he stood there doing nothing but talking to guests. As poor Nora rushed to comply, she passed by me with a really big bowl of cheesy dip, tripped on someone else's foot, and fired the bowl of dip all over the front of my trousers.
Finally, one day we were invited to a party over at their house.
At all times during the party, Bob was shouting instructions at Nora, telling her to do this and do that, to wait on guests while he stood there doing nothing but talking to guests. As poor Nora rushed to comply, she passed by me with a really big bowl of cheesy dip, tripped on someone else's foot, and fired the bowl of dip all over the front of my trousers.
"OH, NO!" she exclaimed, "WHAT HAVE I DONE???!!!" She rushed into the kitchen and got a bucket of cold water and some clean rags, and rushed back and got on her hands and knees and started to humbly and elaborately clean my trousers.
"Oh, this isn't necessary, Nora," I laughed. "Relax! I live across the street! Let me go home, take off my shoes and socks, hose off my pants leg in the yard, change into another pair, and send these to the cleaners!"
Bob yelled to me from across the room, "PETE, YOU SIT THERE AND YOU LET HER CLEAN YOUR PANTS! SHE'S A CLUMSY MORON FOR DOING THIS TO YOU!" A controller shouting orders at the guest to force the guest to participate in controlling and punishing his wife.
I couldn't take it anymore.
I said, out loud, very calmly, "Bob, you are my friend. But, you the one who did this. You've been shouting out orders to Nora all night, to 'hurry here and do this!' and 'hurry there and do that!' while you just talked to guests, and she has been rushing back and forth, back and forth, to please you -- but it was the hurrying you demanded that caused the accident! It's okay! It's okay! It was an accident! Nora didn't do anything wrong! These things happen!"
I said, out loud, very calmly, "Bob, you are my friend. But, you the one who did this. You've been shouting out orders to Nora all night, to 'hurry here and do this!' and 'hurry there and do that!' while you just talked to guests, and she has been rushing back and forth, back and forth, to please you -- but it was the hurrying you demanded that caused the accident! It's okay! It's okay! It was an accident! Nora didn't do anything wrong! These things happen!"
All of this time, Nora had been down on the floor, cleaning my pants leg. I was mortified. And I didn't like the fact that her rag was getting close to the goo spilled onto the crotch of my pants. I grabbed Nora by the shoulders and helped her to her feet and I said, "Listen, Nora, it's time Rise` and I got back home, anyway. It's okay! No harm done! Really! No harm done! I live such a boring life that this was excitement for me!" I shook Bob's hand and said, "Listen! This is okay! This is what friends are for, Bob! So, please don't blame Nora!" We left. Later that night, as I lay in bed, through our open bedroom window, I heard Bob across the street screaming-at and berating Nora for hours for being "a clumsy idiot," and I felt so, so bad for her.
A few weeks after that Rise` loaned Nora a book from my library. The following day Bob looked at the fly leaf, saw my name inscribed there, and as I was cutting the lawn he carried the book across Warwick Road at arms length with his right hand while he held his nose with his left, and dropped it to the ground over our fence!
That was my punishment for blaming the spilling of the dip on him.
That was my punishment for blaming the spilling of the dip on him.
I hated cooperating with a controlling madman's implicit effort to isolate his wife from the neighbors. But continuing to try to relate to such a madman might have led to an incident that all would regret.
So, Rise` and I ended our friendship with the couple.
Shortly after that, things began to change at the house across Warwick Road. We began to hear Nora screaming BACK at Bob when he screamed at her. We saw that Nora had somehow finagled out of her screaming, controlling husband the cash needed to buy a used car for herself.
Finally, she commenced a sex-only extramarital affair with one of the married men in our neighborhood, involving brief "slam-bam-thank-you-ma'am" trysts in the "No-Tell Motel" "serving" our section of South Jersey. Remember the one the kids from Sterling High School used to joke about, on the White Horse Pike next to 295, after the proms?
I can't reveal how I know this. It's liable to get someone killed. I was disgusted at Nora's "john." He had a beautiful-but-too-trusting wife and a child, both of whom loved him like crazy. But, to tell the truth, I was secretly pleased that Nora at least had some "relational consolation" with a male outside of her marriage, since her marriage provided none whatsoever.
I was secretly pleased, that is, until one day, I was talking to Nora's illicit love interest over-the-fence, as he came walking by, pushing his baby daughter in the stroller, when Nora came out of her house across the street in her bikini to do the lawn.
"Did you know that she is deeply intelligent," I asked, "That she probably has an IQ of about 150 or a 160?"
"Pete," he said to me dryly, "You don't know her the way I do. She is nothing but a piece of c - - t."
I thought, "WHAT???!!! I had hoped that Nora could at least find some solace in a relationship with this gorilla. But to him she is nothing but c - - t !!!"
Then, something else, completed unexpected, happened.
Though I was a parishioner and lector at St. Gregory's Church in Magnolia, when I wasn't scheduled to read at a Mass at St. Gregory's I liked to go to 7:00 p.m. Mass at Holy Family Church in Sewell on Sundays. I liked both the pastor and the non-urban setting, there. One night, as I participated at Mass, I looked to my right and there was Nora.
I thought, "Wha-a-a-at? What is she doing at this particular Catholic church? Had she secretly followed me here?" I thought that the lady might have been a look-alike. But, out in the parking lot, I saw her get into the car Nora always drove. It was Nora.
Once I had shown Nora my picture of the Shroud of Turin, and told her its amazing story. Had this somehow piqued her interest in the Catholic faith?
When I saw Nora at the 7:00 p.m. Mass at Holy Family Church again, I stopped her at church and shook her hand and talked to her briefly, but she seemed too worried about something to talk to me -- maybe that her husband was stalking her?
At any rate, it was really, really neat to see Nora acting this independently, about that most dignified and dignifying of human activities, worshiping God.
So, Rise` and I ended our friendship with the couple.
Shortly after that, things began to change at the house across Warwick Road. We began to hear Nora screaming BACK at Bob when he screamed at her. We saw that Nora had somehow finagled out of her screaming, controlling husband the cash needed to buy a used car for herself.
Finally, she commenced a sex-only extramarital affair with one of the married men in our neighborhood, involving brief "slam-bam-thank-you-ma'am" trysts in the "No-Tell Motel" "serving" our section of South Jersey. Remember the one the kids from Sterling High School used to joke about, on the White Horse Pike next to 295, after the proms?
I can't reveal how I know this. It's liable to get someone killed. I was disgusted at Nora's "john." He had a beautiful-but-too-trusting wife and a child, both of whom loved him like crazy. But, to tell the truth, I was secretly pleased that Nora at least had some "relational consolation" with a male outside of her marriage, since her marriage provided none whatsoever.
I was secretly pleased, that is, until one day, I was talking to Nora's illicit love interest over-the-fence, as he came walking by, pushing his baby daughter in the stroller, when Nora came out of her house across the street in her bikini to do the lawn.
"Did you know that she is deeply intelligent," I asked, "That she probably has an IQ of about 150 or a 160?"
"Pete," he said to me dryly, "You don't know her the way I do. She is nothing but a piece of c - - t."
I thought, "WHAT???!!! I had hoped that Nora could at least find some solace in a relationship with this gorilla. But to him she is nothing but c - - t !!!"
Then, something else, completed unexpected, happened.
Though I was a parishioner and lector at St. Gregory's Church in Magnolia, when I wasn't scheduled to read at a Mass at St. Gregory's I liked to go to 7:00 p.m. Mass at Holy Family Church in Sewell on Sundays. I liked both the pastor and the non-urban setting, there. One night, as I participated at Mass, I looked to my right and there was Nora.
I thought, "Wha-a-a-at? What is she doing at this particular Catholic church? Had she secretly followed me here?" I thought that the lady might have been a look-alike. But, out in the parking lot, I saw her get into the car Nora always drove. It was Nora.
Once I had shown Nora my picture of the Shroud of Turin, and told her its amazing story. Had this somehow piqued her interest in the Catholic faith?
When I saw Nora at the 7:00 p.m. Mass at Holy Family Church again, I stopped her at church and shook her hand and talked to her briefly, but she seemed too worried about something to talk to me -- maybe that her husband was stalking her?
At any rate, it was really, really neat to see Nora acting this independently, about that most dignified and dignifying of human activities, worshiping God.
A few weeks later, I was outside cutting the lawn after work during rush hour, when Bob and Nora's toddler daughter, still in diapers, came out of their front screen door onto their open porch clutching her teddy bear. As she climbed down the steps to the front walk, I heard Bob screaming at and berating poor Nora again through their open windows. I realized that they did not know that their daughter was out of the house. There was way, WAY too much 40 mph, tail-gating rush hour traffic on Warwick Road to get across with causing a multi-car pile-up, and killing myself in the process.
In a panic I yelled, "BOB! NORA! YOUR DAUGHTER'S OUTSIDE, WALKING TOWARD TRAFFIC!" No response. Bob was yelling too loud. I looked for a stone to throw across the street, over the little kid's head, to break a window. There were none around.
In a panic I yelled, "BOB! NORA! YOUR DAUGHTER'S OUTSIDE, WALKING TOWARD TRAFFIC!" No response. Bob was yelling too loud. I looked for a stone to throw across the street, over the little kid's head, to break a window. There were none around.
I heard Bob continue to scream at and berate Nora at the top of his lungs. They were oblivious to the fact that their little daughter was about to die.
As their kid made her way down the walk to their front gate, I screamed two more times. Same result.
As their kid made her way down the walk to their front gate, I screamed two more times. Same result.
As their daughter opened their front gate and crossed the sidewalk to the curb, and actually began to TEETER on the curb, I desperately looked for a break in the speeding rush hour traffic. The cars were all bumper-to-bumper rushing by at 40 mph. I tried to motion to drivers to stop, to let me get over to the little girl. They either didn't see me, or they didn't give a darn.
It occurred to me that if at this point I dodged cars to try to get across to save the little girl, the multi-car pile-up would kill her, too.
And there she was on the opposite curb, teetering more and more on her toes. "GOOD GOD!" I screamed to myself in my head, "SHE'S ABOUT TO DIE!"
Then I had an idea: Become a monster.
I put on a scary face, clawed my hands, and began jumping up and down waving my arms, screaming like a monster over the din of the rush hour traffic and of her father screaming.
I put on a scary face, clawed my hands, and began jumping up and down waving my arms, screaming like a monster over the din of the rush hour traffic and of her father screaming.
The toddler looked up, shocked at the "monster" across the street, and fell back on her butt, buying a few seconds of safety.
I began screaming some more for Bob and Nora at the top of my lungs.
I began screaming some more for Bob and Nora at the top of my lungs.
Just then, Bob came out of the front of his house, turned left and began walking toward his car to go some place. I screamed, "BOB! YOUR DAUGHTER! LOOK!" He turned and looked where I was pointing, saw his daughter, realized that she would die if he did not get her, and ran down and grabbed her.
Nothing happened after that. I wondered if Bob would thank me for my part in saving his daughter's life, but he never did.
A few weeks later, on a balmy Saturday evening, I was outside finishing up lawn work in the yard again when I suddenly heard a strange, loud "yelp" which sounded something like a tyrannosaurus after it was hit on the toe with a sledge hammer, and in the periphery of my vision I saw something flying through the air on Warwick Road. I ran out to the front sidewalk, and there was Bob and Nora's dog lying in the middle of Warwick Road, breathing quickly, bloody foam issuing from its mouth and nose. I ran out into Warwick Road and this time I was able to stop the traffic in both directions. A driver jumped out of his car and went to pick the dog up. I said, "No! Dogs in pain will sometimes bite if you try to move him. Do you have a blanket?"
"No," he said.
"But I do!" another stopped driver volunteered.
"Do you care if dog blood or other fluids stain it?" I asked.
"It's yours," he said.
The first driver and I folded the blanket into a tight stretcher, gingerly slid it under the dog, and carried the dog to Bob and Nora's front lawn. I then called Animal Control and told them what happened. They said that they'd be there shortly.
As Animal Control was placing the dying animal in their truck and I was crossing the street to go back to my house, Bob and Nora drove up in their cars and Animal Control reported to them that I had removed the dog from the street.
The next day Bob crossed the street and shook my hand warmly, and thanked me for doing what I did after the dog's accident.
I thought, "What about your daughter?"
He never mentioned her!
No comments:
Post a Comment