The DREAM

Her bloody body limped over the dining room table, as pools of blood dried on the hardwood floor. The image sent chills up my bones. I was too late! The footsteps grew closer, as panic set in. Would I be next?

The first time I had the dream was age 2. Being the youngest, meant “a silent voice.” But my dream was loud and vivid. One dream showed how my Dad tied my mom up and put her in the closet of their bedroom. I tried to warn her, but dad could be seen, soaking her cut feet in alcohol. Dad was wealthy, so his evil antics were often covered up, by his doctor friends’. Particularly, Dr. Jorge made special visits after dad's 10th glass of whiskey had worn off. I often overheard the conversations between Dr. Jorge' and my dad after each episode. Dad would say, “thank you, Jorge’, how will I ever repay you man?” Dr. Jorge’ would reply in frustration, “Look, Randal, repay me by getting yourself some help. My life is on the line every time I have to come here.” Dad in his miserable drunken stupor would say, “Trust me Jorge’, I am trying, but she’s so damn difficult to get along with.” Dr. Jorge’ shouts out loud, “Don’t call me after another one of your damn episodes, you hear me? We are DONE! Either you are going to get some help, or I will blow the whistle on your little nightclub.” Often the conversation would end with dad being very upset and Dr. Jorge’ seeing himself out, without acknowledging my dad’s bull-shit excuses.

One would think that after all those charades and late nights Dr. Jorge’ would have had enough but, he continued to show for another seven years. I guess the money was as much of an enticer for him as it was for everyone involved with his shenanigans. The day dad’s club closed, Dr. Jorge’s visit halted. Only Dad’s promising book collection remained. As we stood in the doorway of our once fully furnished mansion, mom cried as we lost it all. Men in green and black vests, tucked our dad, (Randal Farve Mason—billionaire, club owner, and real estate mogul) away in the backseat of a black SUV. That was the last time I saw my dad.

In less than a month of living in hotels, mom was on the prowl again. Corran, the blue eyed businessman, found his way in. His presence gave me Ed Sheeran vibes. Unlike dad, Corran never had a reason to love us; he was there solely for mom. To Corran we (the children) were just baggage. I can recall times when we would be forced to stay in our bedrooms while he used mom’s face as a punching bag. Thanks to our dad for leaving a ton of debts behind, no one was willing to take us in, so group home wasn’t an option. For nearly two years the beating and threatening continued. Finally, one day mom had reached her peak. Corran was caught in my sister’s bedroom with his pants and underwear around his ankles. Until this day no one ever asked Liya what happened, but the tears flowing from her eyes said it all.

Once again mom was on the move with three children ages 15, 14, and 9 in tow in search of her next suspecting candidate. This time things were much different because we had no money due to Corran’s hostility toward mom. Our only means of survival was the generous people traveling on the I-10 freeway giving what spare change they could afford to give. During one of the scavenging events, a thick beard, very dark-skinned man, with pearly white teeth stopped. The Whataburger’s bag was filled with the burnt oil smells of potatoes; it was the most pleasant smell that I had smelt in months. As my siblings and I ripped open the bag we became so consumed with the biscuits and orange juice that we never paid attention to mom being gone.

As the Sun retrieved from its nightly hideout, and the orange glow of the moon glared down on the street signs, but Mom's presence remained missing. Odom, the oldest of the three, gathered the money can, and homemade signs, as he prepared to lead us back to our budget motel. Walking closely beside one another, we entered the alleyway where men drank brews, women high on Meth, and children looking for their next meal filled the dirty area. Odom pulled Liya and me in close to him just in time to dodge the disheveled men grabbing at our bottoms. We were too scared to scream, so we quickened our pace to hurry through the chaos. Odom placed the slightly used keycard into the door but it did not open. He tried again, and again, and again, still, nothing happened. The night grew colder, under the desert skies, the creepy people in the alley retrieved to their tents, but my mom was still missing.

Two months later, we were all dressed in our Sunday's Best, standing in front of a fat judge, and empty jury seats, watching as my mom and Vinty professed their undying love to one another. My mom stayed away for 3 days, after leaving us alone, alongside the freeway. She only came back for us after being threatened by the hotel staff. She and Vinty drove up to the one-star motel in his vintage Porsche', blaring rap music, higher than a kangaroo's ass. The car stopped in front of the unpaid motel room, and without questioning, we crawled into the tiny backseat, one by one. As the car sped away, we relaxed in our soiled clothing, closed our eyes, and prayed for a better Dad.

Vinty's anger was unmatched. His rage grew beyond mom’s appearance from her newfound illness (coke habit). He would often blame the three of us, for his and mom's arguments. As punishment, we were forced into the dark-attic closet for days. Once he and mom were married, Vinty moved my siblings and me into the guest home two miles off the estate. In the beginning, we were very excited thinking of all the freedom we were going to be on our own. Until we concluded that we were being locked inside at all times. No access to the outside world. Vinty made sure to have all our meals delivered and housekeeping made daily rounds to ensure we were inside and cared for. My mother was only allowed to see us on Saturdays, the day Vinty designated as Family Day. I could tell she was sad on those days, but mom continued her housewife smile and consistently forced everyone to agree, we were all happy. Vinty was her GOD; she really loved this one. Once I overheard her tell Liya, “I would send your asses away in a heartbeat if I could; but no one wants you!” We often prayed for the day, God would hear our prayers.

I opened my lucky backpack and removed a small black notebook, signed and written by my late grandmother, Emma Lois Mason. Dad used to say all the time, "Your grandmother, my mother wrote a special poem inside this notebook; and that poem is the pathway to freedom.” “Wen eva you find yoself in trouble." He recited in grandma’s voice like he had done so many times. No one ever knew what Dad would be referring to. To us, it was just a small black notebook, with the secrets of an old lady. But Dad cherished that book, and for the last 5 years, I have too. Gazing at the crumbling cover, I thought, “One day I will read you.”

February 14, 2019, 9 years later. It began like any normal day at the Pan Se Dol Estate. I was awakened by the yardmen, and power blower, shifting leaves into small piles around the estate. The birds were singing their perfect tunes, and the smell of Ms. Norma's blueberry muffins filled the airways. Liya finally moved out, and Odom was a paralegal, their presence was missing, but the silence was my norm.

iPhone Message:

Not My Dad Vinty: Everyone mainhouse@ at 1:30 PM.

I wonder what news mom and Vinty had cooked up? I waited on Odom or Liya to arrive, but no one showed, so I made my way over to the main house. Pushing open the main door, I let myself in as I called for Mom repeatedly. The air in the foyer seemed a bit moist. The spooky silence gave a pit to my stomach. As I walked into the dining room, the air grew eerie, and immediately there was something different about today's family meeting. I could hear footsteps running across the upstairs floor. I shouted, "Ma is that you?" That is when I saw her. My beautiful mother slumped over the large dining table, blood oozing through a hole in her head, her dress pulled above her waist, and her eye's staring back at me. “Mama! Mama!” I sobbed. I began shaking her lifeless body back and forth, her arms limping to her side, as her body rolled onto the floor; the sound echoed. The footsteps grew louder in the foyer, I know it had to be Vinty. I ran over to the old clock, mom called her safe place, and hid inside, just barely escaping Vinty. I watched as he walked over towards her body and with all his force, kicking her in the rib area, all the while staring down as blood gushed through her partially opened mouth. I could not help, but sob as I stared evil in the eyes.

"Mom!" I heard Odom calling out with excitement, but I was too afraid to stop him. Before Liya and Odom could round the corner, Vinty turned in their direction, and with perfect aim, there were two gunshots, and then two loud thuds hit the hard-wood floor “NOOOO!” I screamed. Vinty footsteps begin to move in the direction of my scream. Pushing my way out of the clock space, I ran as fast as I could out of the open door. Gunshots rang out, as the bullets hissed by my ears. I ran past the guard, out the tall lavish gates, and into the night. I ran until the heavy raindrops began to drench the clothes I was wearing. It was almost impossible to move any further with weight. A few hours passed, and there was no sight/sound of Vinty; by now my body had grown tired. The rain blurred my vision, and my legs quivered. I found shelter inside an abandoned apartment building. I used the robe I wore, like a blanket. I snuggled underneath the drenched robe and closed my eyes as the tears trailed uncontrollably. “Open the small black notebook, my dear!” said a loud and creepy voice. The woman's tone was shaky with the rasp of a cigarette smoker. I searched the darkness of the abandoned building, looking for the voice, or a shadowed figure. Fear crept over me. “Who? Who’s there?” The words echoed off the old wood, but no one answered. I crawled back into the damped robe and frantically pulled the small black notebook from the soiled backpack. The pages were brown and stained. The cover was stiff and brittle. As I opened the cover, out fell a folded embroidery letter and a rubber band stack of old fashion bills. $20,000 glistened underneath the dim street light.

Through tears, I read,

Oh my dear children, if you are reading this letter, my presence on earth is no more. But what you have here is safety. Keep Going. The old lady has good secrets. With Love.

Granny Emma.

“Kara!”

“Kara!”

“Kara where are you?”

No way. It can’t be. I stuffed the cash in my lucky backpack, slowly walked out of the abandoned apartments, and there they were, dirty, bloody, and drenched, Odom and Liya.

“The DREAM!”