Beth, I Hear You Calling…

This morning I woke up with a strange feeling. I don’t know how to explain it, except that it was a sense of dread. Sounds awful, I know but it’s all consuming! It is coming from somewhere and I have a feeling that something is up today.

Anyway I had a quick breakfast, of milk & cereal, and went off to school feeling like that anyway. The whole day just seemed to drag along. In gym class, we played soccer : shirts vs. no-shirts. I ended up getting picked for the no-shirts team and I was a bit apprehensive because it’s too cool outside.

My asthma starts acting up and I’m having a hard time breathing. The weather outside is stormy and the gray clouds just loom heavy overhead like spectators, looking down into the lion’s den at the zoo, waiting for something to happen. Even worse, when I went to take a shower, the hot water refused to flow for me! The cold water splashes on my chest and feels like weights crushing my lungs.

Ughhh!

What a day!!!! Dread & heavy chest but a sunny day awaits me outside. I’m just glad school is over and I can finally get the school day done now!

On my drive home, the sun warms up my chest & loosens my tight lungs. But the feeling of dread is still present and getting stronger. It pulsates and causes the veins in my neck to bulge. I don’t know why it’s there nor what is causing it, but it’s just strange.

I guess not strange enough! Because as I turn the corner onto our block, I see exactly what is causing this feeling.

There in the middle of the street, in front of our house, is a growing commotion. The neighbors are standing together like as a group of dears, frozen in their tracks. The lights on the patrol car are still flashing and the crowd has an expression of disbelief. They’re standing there with their hands clasped over their mouths and elbows clenched tightly to their chest.

All seen to have experienced a horrific moment together. Their tears drops blend in with the rain drops falling on their shoulders.

Oh God don’t tell me something happened!

I pull into a parking space attempting to park the car, but the girls from upstairs jump in front of the car & start banging on my window. I slam on the brakes as they shout “Open this window!”. “Dammit open it now!”

“What’s going on?” I ask as the pulsating in my neck becomes more noticeable.

“Baby Daniel got sick. He was found in the crib and he was not breathing! His little face was blue!” they explained loudly. “Come with us, we will drive you to the hospital!”

“Wait!” I shouted “I haven’t finished parking the car!”

“Dammit, don’t worry about the car! I’ll get my dad to park it! We have to go now!” They shout as they drag me towards their car.

I leave the keys in the car. The door open and the engine running. My lunchbox is open on the front seat and I think I spilled my Coke on the rug from all this commotion. I don’t know why, but I am not even a little worried.

“He’s going to be alright!” I reassure the girls. “Don’t panic. Everything will be OK, You’ll see.”

Looking back, I must have been out of it, since I was not worrying. But as we continue, I notice the speedometer and its over 50mph on the city streets.

“Slow down” I yell, but she is so intense that she doesn’t even hear me. “Slow down!”

But still no respond. Now I’m starting to worry and even a little scared!

They pull up to the front door of the Perth Amboy General Hospital’s Emergency Room and we climbed out of the car clumsily. We almost fell out even before the car was in park.

At this point it became real to me and the only thing I can hear is the “swoosh” of the electric doors as they slide open. We rush into the emergency room and immediately run into the patient’s area. I see my mom, Beth and my baby sister, Patty crying. In their face, I see that same feeling of dread – only deeper and more painful, more immediate.

No question had to be asked. My mother’s strong hug told me everything! Beth and Patty also came over to create a group hug in the middle of the hall. Nurses running around us but we didn’t move. It felt like hours & the only thing that broke the silence were the words my mother uttered: “Little Danny just died.”

Oh God, Why!!!! How am I going to tell my brother his son is dead! The terror of the moment fills me like an overflowing cup of hot coffee spilling on my lap. I break off and run to the corner screaming inside. In my pain, all I can think of is “how will my brother take this news?”

Then I notice a slumped over shadow out of the corner of my eye. And my thoughts and wanderings go to Beth.

She had been home, taking a nap and woke up. Beth & Patty found Little Danny face down in his crib. She had been alone in the house at the time. The terror of finding her son dead must be horrific for her!

She is so far from her home & her family. Her husband, my brother, is thousands of miles away & she now finds herself surrounded by a bunch of strangers. These strangers now find ourselves needing to serve as her make-shift family.

Oh My! She is so far from home…

Beth, I know you’re lonely and I hope you’ll be alright…

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Boogie Nights

Boogie Nights Something weird happened today and I’m not sure how to even talk about it. It feels like a nightmare that I cannot shake. Every day after school we spend the afternoon outside playing. Playing ball, playing tag, chasing one another and even riding our bikes.

You know kids in the neighborhood doing what kids are supposed to do – being innocent and having fun!

That is… all kids with the exception of little Peter. He is only 4 maybe 5 yrs old and his mom is really protective over him. The only times I see him out is when his mother takes a nap. He sneaks out of the house, not to play with us but to go to the gray house at the corner of Warren and Salem.

He happily skips and hops his way over to that house.

The gray house is the home of an older couple with no kids. The lady is quiet and goes to work six days a week. The man is gray-haired and seems to have retired early, because he tends to the garden everyday and is always outside in his yard.

As we walk home from school, he greets us and offer us candy from behind the bushes. Many kids don’t even know what he looks like – but I do. See my father is friends with this guy, but I find him to be very strange. I don’t know why but I am freaked out by him.

But Peter seems to like him enough to go to his house every week. He goes there by himself at least once a week and spends over an hour there.

One day I asked him “what do you do at his house all that time?”

“We play games and eat candy.” He replied, but he would look away and not go into detail of what games they play together alone.

One day when he came out crying I asked him what happened. This time he did say that they danced to music and watched a movie that he did not like. The movie made him cry.

Yesterday my dad wanted to go visit the people in the gray house and insists that I go with him.

“No!” I replied “I’m not going!”

But my dad insisted “they are nice people and we have to visit with them.”

We went anyway. My dad was going there to teach him the bible and wanted me to learn how to do it.

The house was dark. The furniture was wooden, stained dark brown, with a brown tweed fabric that even thought it was in good shape, always looked dirty. The walls were wood-panelled in a honey-colored stain. The grain was deep but looked worn from years of usage. The lighting was very dim with only table lamps lighting the immediate area.

I never understood why someone would choose to live in such darkness.

Anyway I asked my dad ” dad, can I leave now! please”

Finally after nagging him enough, he let me go. I rushed out the door so quickly.

Later on my dad catches up to me and asks me “what happened back there?”

I finally broke down and told my dad what I felt. “I don’t like going to that house dad. Peter tells me that he does some weird things, dad! They play alone together and Peter sometimes comes out of that house crying.”

“What are you talking about?” My dad replied. He continued with “They are nice people, how do you know that Peter is telling the truth. You have to be sure of what you are saying before you judge anyone! You have to love thy neighbors no matter what opinion you have of them.”

This is not unusual, dad never takes what I say seriously anyway. I wish I had someone to talk to, but my dad just won’t listen.

So today, I walked home alone and sure enough he was there working in his yard. He stops me by offering me my most favorite candy: “kid look at what I have – a Three Musketeer bar.”

The words “love thy neighbor” ring in my head and I choose to give up my suspicions of him and accept him for whom my dad says he is.

It was a mini bar and he added “I have plenty more inside.”

We talked for a bit and he says “come inside & I will give you more Three Musketeers.”

The words “love thy neighbor” ring again so I accept his invitation and went inside.

No judgement!

Inside we played games and ate candy just like Peter said! Then about 45 minutes of playing he says…

“I have a game…

bet you’ve never played it!

Its fun! I promise.

You’re gonna love it!”

“Can I teach it to you?”

He gets serious and says “the game is a secret though! It’s a big kids game – I’m not sure if you’re big enough to play this game…”

“Of course I am!” I insist “let me play!”

I should have notice something was off when he made me promise I wouldn’t tell anyone.

Anyway he gets off the floor puts on a record – I still remember it – it was Boogie Nights by Heatwave. I remember it well! It is my favorite song. It used to be, that is until now. He then comes over and sits right next to me on the sofa.

Instantly things start to feel weird. He speaks softly and moves in slowly now. Almost as if he is deliberately trying to avoid scaring me. He puts his hand, slowly, on my knee and tells me “relax. There is nothing to worry about…”

Now I am really shaking…

Then he says: “Open up your pants and …”

Before he could finish his sentence I was off that sofa and out the door! Sorry, I cannot love this neighbor… I knew what he wanted and I was not going to play those games!

But poor Peter! I just realized that he has played that game before and he is keeping that secret.

I now know why Peter’s attitude had change lately. He did not skip back & forth anymore. He walks there with his head down and his shoulder seem to just droop – like he has lost his spark.

I know he has a hard life at home, with his dad never being home & his mom being controlling. I’m sure he does not have anyone to talk to – even if they did listen – I’m not sure they would want to hear the secret he’s keeping…

This is enough to stress anybody out! Deep down inside, I know that Peter has changed from the many times he’s gone into the darkness of that gray house.

I know that the one and only time was enough for me. It left a lasting impression on me. Like a nightmare, it lingers in the shadows of secrecy. It is one thing that even though I want to forget, I have not been able to do.

I wonder if Peter has been able to forget…

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Spring Cleaning

This morning I was woken up by the sounds of a vacuum cleaner and loud music coming from the stereo. I throw the blanket over my head because I don’t feel like getting up.

Looking out the window, I see a beautiful Sunday morning. The sky is bright and a beautiful shade of blue with only one or two gray clouds.

That cloud is casting a shady spot as it rolls down the street as it heads towards my front yard.

I close my eyes, fall back asleep again for a few more minutes hoping that the gray cloud would just go on by.

Again the loud whirling of the vacuum cleaner wakes me up. I give in and decide to get out of bed and head downstairs for breakfast. The sounds of mom’s Spanish music fills the air as I descend down the staircase.

Loud, upbeat and a happy mood fills my mother’s way of being. I guess she is enjoying Spring cleaning…

“Mom, can I go outside and play?” I ask her excitedly.

“Sure, after you clean up your room.”

OK that sound fair enough. I can do my part of the Spring cleaning chores. I run back upstairs, make my bed and put the dirty clothes in the hamper. Again I charge down the stairs and I’m heading out the door, when my mom asks…

“Did you sweep and mop the floor?”

Oh no! “do I have to do that?” I challenge her.

“Just do it! Then you can go out and play.” was her reply.

While I mop, the music filling the air is soft ballads from the old country. They are love songs and patriotic ballads from Ecuador. I thought nothing of it. She would always play sounds from back home. It was music from her youth & her old friends. The ballads sang of hope and heraldry for the love of our country.

About 45 minutes later I am done mopping the floor & cleaning out the bucket so I head downstairs.

“Mom, I’m done! I’m going out to play…”

This time there was no reply and she is nowhere to be found. The music style had changed and now there is a love song on the stereo. It sings of missed opportunities and love that cannot be.

It was melancholic and a bit dramatic.

I guess mom is missing the old days…

Anyway, where’s mom? I start searching for her & realize that she was in the front yard picking tomatoes for lunch. “OK mom, I’ll be back by lunchtime.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asks as if she forgot our deal.

“out to play…”

“No! Go and clean the upstairs bathroom.” she demanded

“But mom, you said I can go out when I was done with my room…”

“Now you need to do the bathroom!” she insisted.

Begrudgingly I went and did it. “Well, If I can go out and play after that, then it won’t be so bad.” I justified that to myself.

Again another 45 minutes passed, but I was done! Now I can go out to play. Heading down the stairs, the music still blaring, I hear my mother crying. This time the music went from melancholic to downright sad. It sang of loves lost & the longing for days gone by. It sang of missing out on what life has to offer.

Oh Boy! She is in her sad mood.

This time I try and sneak out the door. “Where do you think you are going?” mom stops me.

Again, did she forget our deal?

“Umm, outside to play with Leo.” I reply

” No! Not with that mocoso! Go to your room!” she yells. “Why mom?”

“Because I said so…” was her reply.

I look out the window & see that that gray cloud had decided to linger a little longer. It starts raining and I guess I’m not going anywhere!

I could see that, like that cloud, her mood has also turned gray. A sadness welts up in her eyes and a single tear rolls down her cheek. Immediately she wipes it off and turns so that I would not see it.

My mother always has to be strong and never allows us to see her vulnerability. But today I did see it and I can understand her pain. She gave up a lot to come to the United States. She gave up her education; her career; her friends and family; her hopes; but most of all she gave up her future & dreams so that we can have ours.

Once in a while she allows herself to feel this. I don’t think its of remorse for giving up her past but out of shear loneliness. Having to bear the burden of bringing up five kids – practically alone – in a new world can be a daunting task.

Carrying a heavy burden is daunting…
but even worse having to do it without much support from dad.

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