MOTIVATED

WE WERE NEARING THE END OF A LONG JOURNEY TOWARD BEING DONE whith child rainsing and, for the kids, being grown up. High school was seeing graduation of the last in-house "child" and within a few months, college days would see an end for a single mom. It could not be said that it had been an "easy haul," for our paths were each laid with life nukes... those little things that tend to block progress of every kind. Divorce had been the first. Upheavals in paternity visits and paternity rights in court became second runner up, but lost interest to the favor of the intervention of an added birth creating a third paternal claim under a "new lady" added on. That set my household free from the stress of appearing for weekend visits, and started our race toward becoming "something" admirable. Admirable being something of a small family business operation... "YARDS TO MEASURE"... something the three of us could handle. Bookwork, accounts and equipment doing lawns and gardens for locals and any distance reachable with the vehicle gifted me by my father... a leather lined Monarch Ghia. The luxe model of a Ford Granada. I couldn't trade it for a pick-up truck and could not get the necessary downpayment for a sepearte vehicle to use strictly for business. I needed a "SUGGA DADDY" for that, according to the men at every auto dealership. I would have to go to college and approach independence from a different angle. The kids stayed that plan alteratoin with me and attendedmost college classes with me at the infrequent annoyance to other students.

The slowing pace of that ideal had spun us off into the latter years, through another marriage, a multitude of relocations and now, the end of high school and college without the business ever coming to life. But here we were, short of the oldest from my brood with her detour taken upon reaching age 18 and moving in with her dad and his latest household regime. The youngest now graduated with honors and a few scholarships put to his name for college in a New York state, after having applied to Ball State, Texas A&M where he was getting the best "come on" response, and Georgia Tech. His reputation in track and field for speed had won the attention of collegiate sports. But he chose to attend at upstate New York which came recommended by his high school teacher and advisor. The wait over summer break found us running with a local track club... him running as a member of the club... me running to keep up with my kid in a mess of about 20 other track club members of varying ages 7 thru 18... the older members, and three senior students of Inkster and Detroit high schools, being toted as THE INKSTER TRACK CLUB. The track club coach came recommended by the parent of a prior high school classmate and the team welcomed on a temporary member to the club. My participation was that of a sort of coach assistant; I got my "kid" to and from training and prevented the coach from having to drive thrity miles out to our area for practices. On other dates arranged for distant competitions, the coach held me as a companion for his van ride over the line into ongoing Windsor Canada competitions originally routinely set by his coach assistant who quit when I and my son joined on. My son and I attended the over-the-border once... once was enough. I laid the law, "Mine wouldn't be going. I wasn't going along to take the younger participants... children of other parents, and mine wasn't going with him without me as chaperone."

Meeting Carl Owens... a friend of the coach from his own college track experiences... was a promised treat for "the best participant" and "most improved" track club meet member. That served as motivation for staying in the group throught the end of summer. I hang around after my son left for college to see who won the Carl Owens introduction.

Imagine that, and futures to come back to, I had to find income past the disability from a hard press to establish money for campus other than serving hamburgers at the McDonalds window; so I searched the community. I searched and was noticed by a group of black construction men... and a distant cousin. Percy called to arrange my introduction and I was "hired" right away. Life was shaping up, or so I thought. Before that start date given me for starting on as the office personnel ...bookeeper, secretary, receptionist, payroll department and civil engineer... I finalized my son's needs for his first year away at college. My daughter... one year older and under guardianship of her grandmother... was assumedly content where she was. No more run away arguements and "I'm grown" insistencies. Taht was before learning that she was not with her grandmother, but with her dad, x-stepfather and drug dealing aunt in Chicago. She was doing her best to learn the precise movements and manners of Leona Helmsly. But that news was to come much later.

I strutted my book learners stuff and was asked to play the role/title of company president. I was asked to reorient the business under the combination of four small business names including the addition of my own and a new Federal Employer Identification Number. I did as asked and went through the first week and an initial group meeting to consign the four prior independents and my own business, originally listed as an office accounting and payroll support entity for existing small businesses. Weeks later my attitude changed when the close of a group meeting met with the wife of the eldest male member whispering in a gruffly muted voice, "Keep Bill." I uttered back at her for her comfort, "Sure... I will." I had no idea wht she was talking about. Days later he showed up at my campus apartment door with a hard on. Annoying as it was...

(excerpt)