I
was on my third reading of Dave’s letters, when the smell of supper drifted
upstairs into my room. Something
familiar seemed to be missing for that time of day. It didn’t fully dawn on me, until I glanced
out the window, overlooking the vacant driveway. Deryl wasn’t home from work yet.
I
changed my school clothes and put on rolled up jeans and an oversized shirt. I entered the kitchen. I took one look at
Mom and I knew the potatoes weren’t the only ones stewing.
“Is
Deryl working late?” I asked innocently.
“Not
that I know of,” she answered through tight lips.
“Maybe
he had trouble with his pickup,” Chuck interjected from a kitchen chair.
Mom,
her brows knitted into a frown, didn’t answer as she turned the stove knob to
low and walked to the open window.
Supper
simmered, the clock ticked away, tension built and we waited.
Finally, the white vehicle raced onto the
gravel driveway, and came to an abrupt stop.
Mom
looked relieved and then disgusted, as a flushed Deryl walked, with deliberate
steps, to the back door.
“You’ve
got your nerve coming home like this!”
“Ahhh...come
on Baby, don’t start on me,” Deryl stammered.
I
retreated to the living room away from the barrage of angry words. I could still hear them filtering through the
walls.
“Well....
If that’s the way...you feel...about it...you...you can...just go to *** for
all I care!” Deryl bellowed.
The
back screen door slammed and I looked out the dining room window just in time
to see the pickup back up and spin onto the road. Deryl was driving but someone else was in the
passenger seat.
Mom
was standing over the stove, angrily flicking the knobs off, as I reentered the
kitchen.
“Where’s
Chuck?” I asked as I glanced around.
“He
left with Deryl!” she answered angrily.
She threw a hot pad onto the counter, stomped across the kitchen,
entered her bedroom and slammed the door.
The
house was quiet except for Bronco pushing his toy cars across the dining room
floor. A rush of cool evening air touched
me as I opened the front door and sat on the faded, top step of the porch.
The
birds in the large trees rustled and sang to each other as they bedded for the
night. Crickets, under the porch, chirped
for the coming darkness. Dark hews of
blue lengthened, as the setting sun caused the oak branches to cast their
shadows on the house. Everything had the
feeling of peace… except me.
I
cupped my chin in my hands and relived the earlier scene. Embarrassment brought heat in my cheeks when
I thought of Chuck seeing Deryl drunk.
It was ironic. I was the one who
wanted Chuck to revel the secrets of his heart and past. Now our family was the ones on display. I longed for a privacy screen to hide us from
view.
Why
had Deryl started drinking again? It had
been a long time; and perhaps this was a one-time incident. But, even as I
pondered it, I felt sadness. Fear stole
over me like a suffocating blanket; coming face to face with an old enemy. I had hoped and prayed I would never encounter
it again. Realizing, the adversary had been stalking all along; waiting for a
weakness, an opportune moment when he could seize his victim. This enemy would attack on occasion;
gradually pulling into captivity, until he had such a hold, that life and
purpose were drained, and all that mattered was that alcohol reigned.
How
could I know, at such a young age, the battle and devastation that would ensue
in the years to come? Everyone, this
enemy touched, would become sick, from its affect. Not only would alcoholic cause
a pattern of self-destruction but also imprint a mark on each member of the
family.
Darkness
fell and I changed my self-appointed sentry duty to the living room. It was past 10 p.m. when lights shone up the
road and into the driveway.
Chuck
was in high spirits when he entered the room.
“You
should have been with us Gloria. Deryl
is just a riot. I never knew he could
swear like that. He could put a sailor
to shame.”
I
glared at Chuck. “I’m glad you find
it so amusing because I do not!”
My
outburst didn’t daunt Chuck. He was
still chuckling to himself when I left the living room in a huff.
I
didn’t know that within a month Chuck would be standing in a revealing
light. And even if I had known, I
wouldn’t have wished it upon him.
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