Chapter 4

There were a lot of changes and surprises in the fall and winter of 1973, lots and lots of ‘em. While telling this story I skimmed over most of two decades, only telling you the major stuff that mattered, so I could get to the most important parts quicker. 1973 was the most important year of my life, by far.

My wife Elaine’s son Stanley and his wife Louise had another girl, their fourth child. We decided that it made sense for them to swap houses with us, since their two-bedroom trailer was getting far too small for them. Stanley and his brother Thomas agreed to help me clear the trees from a small hill after the first frost, then remove the stumps and build a small new house for Elaine and I the next year. We would stay in the trailer in the meantime. As simple and relatively easy improvements, we added a second bathroom, porch, and a large living room to the 140-year-old house. They decided to turn the small living room that sat at the top of the basement steps into a laundry room and pantry. Stanley bought a clothes washer and a big freezer, and I helped him move them in.

Most of the family was at a picnic in town on the day Elaine died. After breakfast I called my pal Joshua and invited him to go fishing. He said he needed to do a few things, but would be happy to in couple of hours. I’d make some sandwiches for lunch and he’d pick up beer on the way to the lake. I decided to hook up the pipes and hoses for the new washing machine while I waited for him. I was laying on the floor and reaching behind the washer so I could screw in the last water pipe.

My wife Elaine stormed in and shouted, “One of my friends saw you kissing the neighbor Nora! That must be why we never make love anymore! You’re cheating with that SLUT!”

I had cheated with Nora many times, but that ended five years earlier. I wondered if somebody saw me kiss her cheek goodbye after I visited her family the previous week. I rose to a kneeling position while saying, “You’re crazy! I don’t make love to you anymore because you refuse every time I ask! If you tell somebody ‘no’ every time for years...”

I got to my feet and stood, while she screamed, “And you hug her daughter Sally sometimes, and always gave her treats when she was a kid. I bet you’re fucking that little WHORE, too!”

The next few seconds are a blur in my mind. I had a sudden burst of rage. She had called my child a whore! I don’t remember exactly what I did to my wife. I think I shoved her, maybe. Probably. Her shoulder slammed into the wall near the top of the stairs. She screeched, “EEEEH!” as she tried to catch her balance. I reached to grab her arm and keep her from falling, I really did.

I wasn’t quite quick enough. She tilted away, out of reach. I saw her tumble head-over-heels on the way down. Her head hit the concrete stairs at least twice, and she landed on her head, too.