Run For Your Life

Run For Your Life

And Don’t Look Back

By Danielle Lenaghan Sheets

It was the mid 1980’s. Eddie Rabbit was blaring on the radio and Mario Brothers were all the rage. Red-headed, freckle faced Damian Smith put on his Pumas and ran three miles to the Muscutt’s house every Saturday to play Pitfall. Sure, young Damian had an Atari at home, but it wasn’t the crème de la crème of new technology. Frogger and Asteroids were cool, but playing Pitfall on the Muscutt’s ColecoVision was the bomb. This was Damian’s get away from the farm, time to be a kid.

Mom took care of the crops in the greenhouse and the boys ploughed the fields and handled the livestock. Damian’s job every morning was to climb the silo and feed the cows. Climbing the endless ladder and shoveling out the feed was easy compared to the race back to the fence. Every morning when he descended the silo the bull was waiting, nostrils flared and forefeet pawing. Every sunrise Damian fed the herd of Limousin cattle and outran his mad adversary. Needless to say, he got pretty fast.

Damian found comfort in the routine, “Dad sells livestock, mom drives the school bus, and I feed the herd”. He never complained about the bull. He needed his father to see his strength, and to be worthy of dad’s respect. Damian always searched for a glimmer of approval from dad. One that he searched for year after year and never received. He didn’t have to try with mom. She doted on her only child, until one day Damian woke up and she was gone.

Mom leaving with no explanation was like a dagger through Damian’s 12-year-old heart. The move from Ontario to Virginia uprooted Damian’s entire life. Uncle John had a great career opportunity for dad who could no longer afford the mortgage on the farm since mom cleaned out the bank accounts. New school, no bull, no mom, and a very fast paced life in the city drove the boys. Dad looked fantastic in a three-piece suit and Damian began running track and won several meets. He often wondered about mom, why she left, what she was doing. When his thoughts started eating away at him, he would put on his Pumas and run for miles.

Mom caught back up about two years later. She heard about dad’s success in the weight loss business from Uncle Donnie. “I thought of you both every day,” she uttered. Meaningless words to a husband and child left abandoned, but they both wanted those words to be true. Without any explanation, mom was welcomed back into their hearts, only to flee again two years later when the money got tight, and immigration was knocking at the door.

Damian and his father packed a U-Haul and headed back to Canada. Regardless of the distance, Damian was still up for the chase, “I think Uncle Donnie knows where she is, she may even be back in Canada.” “She doesn’t want to be found, she left us, twice on purpose,” declared his wounded father. The light in his dad’s eyes was gone. “I will find her,” Damian pledged. He did finally find mom, when she wrote to him. She was remarried and did quite well for herself. She welcomed Damian back into her life and sponsored his education. Mom gave Damian a credit card, which he maxed out every time she paid it off. After graduation, he left Windsor University and headed for Virginia Beach at mom’s bequest. He worked as a waiter in a country and western bar and met a girl, then another, then another, until finally he met “the one”. Yeah, Kristie had two kids, but she was cute as hell, successful as all get out, and she rocked his world. He was running toward a new life at full speed, willing to accept the duties of doting husband to Kristie and loving father to Luke and Jake. Before setting the date, Damian went back to Ontario for a friend’s wedding. He couldn’t work out the logistics to bring Kristie and the boys for the extended weekend, so he kissed them goodbye and promised, “I’ll be back in five days.”

On Monday afternoon, when Damian returned to his ready-made family, he found his belongings in boxes on the curb. The locks had been changed and Kristie wasn’t answering his calls. He finally caught up with her at work. “It’s over Damian, there’s someone else. Please move on with your life,” urged Kristie as she paged security. How could someone who loved him five days ago have turned ice cold? It was like a million little cuts to his heart. Lovestruck Damian never felt more alone. He packed up his boxes, picked up a bottle of Jim Beam and drowned his sorrows. The next morning, he woke up early, put on his Pumas, grabbed a knapsack from mom, and started running. He camped in seaside parks, slept on sand dunes and under bridges, and ate a lot of canned beans along the 450-mile trek. Teary eyed and filthy, Damian called mom from Sullivan’s Island Beach, South Carolina, where he slept on the white sand while mom made the 7-hour drive to rescue him.

With limited options, Damian moved back in with his mother. She waited for her cash cow to leave for work every morning then she would fill Damian’s head with tales of reuniting with his father once the new ‘old man’ kicks. “You know your dad’s my true love. He’s the one I’ve always wanted… I just needed the security. You have to understand.” Damian did not understand, especially when he got the call about dad’s stage 5 colon cancer. “You’re not coming with me to see your true love?” Damian hopped on the first plane to Detroit and made the two-hour drive to London, Ontario. He spent a week at his aunt’s house while he made arrangements for his dad. “Mount Forest is assisted living,” said Aunt Alice. “They will help him in any way he needs, but he has the freedom to come and go.”

Damian got dad settled in and headed back to Virginia Beach. He received a call every six months from Aunt Alice, like clockwork, “it’s his time.” Each occasion Damian would run to dad, who refused all treatment, to find that his father had once again defied all odds. Six years later, Damian saw to his dad’s funeral. He was devastated that his mom did not attend. “How would that look, I am remarried.” It was Damian against the world, and he was alone.

Damian could not stomach returning to mom’s house. He put on his Pumas and ran from bustling London, Ontario to sleepy Chester, Nova Scotia. He caught up with his cousin Shawn who had a little cottage on the Atlantic. “I can’t believe you ran 1200 miles,” Shawn blurted out after they popped open an Alexander Keith’s, “you look like Redbeard the Pirate for Pete’s sake”. The two drank and talked for days, until they devised a plan to make some quick cash. Shawn was short, fit and wiry, “I need someone fast, we run in, cut the lock and empty the storage unit. Security is almost non-existent and I’m pretty sure the cameras are just props. The folks that live out here are mostly seasonal. They don’t want to leave their valuables in their empty houses when the leave for the winter, so voila, they use storage.

The first night’s loot included two flat screen TVs, three Fender guitars, two Peavey amplifiers, and a coin collection. They also grabbed some paintings, a Big Green Egg, and some crystal decanters and glasses. “We can’t fence any of this locally buddy, we need to go to Halifax,” Shawn instructed. The cash they received was substantial. They spent two weeks in Halifax going from strip club to strip club, celebrating their success and getting the VIP treatment.

When the coffers ran dry, the cousins returned to Shawn’s cottage to plan their next hit. They were in the process of putting the last of the antique gun collection in the pickup truck when they heard the sirens approaching the storage facility. German Shepherds came running straight at them with the backdrop of blinding police lights. Shawn and Damian ran, but Shawn tripped on a speedbump and hit the ground, hard. Damian kept running and did not look back.

Two pairs of Pumas and 3600 miles later, Damian arrived at Aunt Joyce’s in Victoria, British Columbia. He hopped a couple CN trains along the way and took in the beautiful sights from coast to coast. Joyce didn’t recognize the boy she last laid eyes on when he was only 11. Damian took a long shower and enjoyed a hot meatloaf, and the two caught up. Joyce shared the pain she suffered at the loss of her daughter, Lois, thirty years before, and Damian lamented about the loss of his father, his mentor and idol. “Your dad could only focus on one person Damian, and that was your mother. Honor your father and to tend to your mom. She’s nuts without you.”

Things had changed since the last time Damian was at mom’s place. The honeymoon was definitely over. The cash cow had become a belligerent drunk and was increasingly violent. Damian pleaded with his mom, “we can just leave, tonight, and start again.” “I can’t leave Damian. I finally have the house I want and the things I need. His health is poor, it’s just a matter of time,” mom encouraged. It was just a matter of time before mom ended up in the hospital. Damian got a call from the ER while he was waiting tables. “Your mom has been admitted for a concussion and a broken shoulder. She has bruising on her neck and a black eye consistent with an assault.”

Damian did not drive to the hospital. He left his car at work, put on his Pumas, and ran to mom’s house. She refused to press any charges or provide any details of “the fall” so her cash cow was seated on his throne, drinking wine and watching action movies while she was being tended to by the ER docs. Damian knew damn well the screen door on the back porch would be unlocked until 8 p.m. He put on a rain poncho, latex gloves, and a mask before he opened the door. “Hey buddy, I heard mom had a fall,” he said to his stepfather. “She fell down the stairs,” cash cow barked, “get me another wine!” “I’ve got something better,” Damian said as he opened the cooler he was carrying, pulled out a package and peeled back the plastic wrap. He threw the drops of fentanyl directly into his stepdad’s face. Damian watched as his pupils dilated and provided a trash can before the vomiting commenced. “Enjoy hell asshole,” Damian swore as he pushed open the back door and ran three miles back to work. He cleaned the sweat from his brow, changed his shoes, and put his apron back on. He served a few more drinks, then told his manager he received a call from the hospital. He clocked out at 8:15 p.m. and drove to Sentara Leigh. Mom was pretty beaten and bruised when Damian walked into the room, but she was still in good spirits. “I’m not leaving him you know,” mom repeated. “I know.”