She wanted to talk. She was a reader. At least she had a book, a book by a female comic, fraught with obscenities. Let’s call her “J.”
“Is that Hebrew you’re reading?” J asked. “No, Greek,” I replied. I didn’t elaborate lest I pressure her into some unwanted discussion of religion. I knew she wouldn't like that.”
“What are you reading?” I courteously queried.
“The funniest book I ever read.”
A few moments of silence followed.
“Are you a
“No,” J replied, "I live in Little Rock." And then the deluge came.
J was on her way to
A was in a relationship with "C," whose name derived from Greek, “Christ bearer.”
A and C had cohabited in
C had choked A, the last straw in a haystack of other violent actions in Little Rock and Sarasota.
A, an interior designer, bore two illegitimate twins to C in December. Now, with the protective order against C, J was on her way to
Ironically, J belonged to a motorcycle club devoted to protecting abused children. Her tattoos and overly-sun-exposed, leathery skin testified that she was a tough old gal with lots of rides in her past. Now her own daughter, and her "grand" babies were victims. But what else should they expect?
Married three times, J was now separated from her current husband.
J then told me C’s story.
C’s mother, a prostitute and drug addict, bore two children, C and a younger brother.
In a drug-crazed tantrum, C's mother locked him out of the house when he was fourteen.
When the authorities came to take C and his little brother into custody, C ran away. He eventually knocked on the door of a family in the neighborhood who had been kind to him. After a lengthy legal process, the family adopted C.
"But they always had trouble with him,” J told me. “They were Southern Baptists, probably too strict on him. But I don't think he'll be able to hurt us while we're loading up in Sarasota; we changed the locks. He's locked out.”
Posts
