Part 1

Journal: 12-15-03

They Invade

I think it was the summer I was fourteen... or was it fifteen... but that's not really important. What is important was that was the summer my Uncle and Aunt got their divorce. Things back then were different than they are now; there were no mandatory year long separations before a divorce became final... no community property either. All you needed was a judge, a court date, a little amiability, some give and take - the judge would say his words, make his decree and it was done... unless the divorce was contested. Their divorce was contested. It was a mean and nasty affair from the word 'go'. They had both been screwing around on one another for years. It was a family joke, really. Yet, when it finally came out, both were mortally offended, hurt and betrayed and neither understood why the other couldn't see that 'their' affair was a necessary, understandable and forgivable thing. Quite honestly, even at that age I always wonder how either had found out. They were both alcoholics and seldom sober for more than an hour after they woke in the mornings.

Still, they both wanted the house, the two cars, the property, the kids (three girls) and both especially wanted the money. There was a lot of virulence, acid and in-fighting going on in the courtroom that summer... but, of course, I didn't know that at the time. I only learned most of the details later, during the years between then and now.

All I knew then was that 'my' home, 'my' privacy and 'my' personal bedroom and space were invaded when my aunt and cousins moved in and I found myself sleeping behind a curtain in a corner of the basement.

What made it especially difficult was that our home was really kind of small: a single floor home with a full basement... there were already five of us, Mom, Dad, my two brothers and me. Yes, it was a three-bedroom home, but the two us boys had grown up in were postage stamp size: no longer than they were wide and just wide enough for a twin bed to fit. Neither were bigger than the bathroom and there was only one of those... Hell, we had bathroom problems before before they moved in, when there were just the five of us (and the dog... mustn't forget the family dog - a big old pampered brown and white thing that was a people in his own right). Can you imagine the bathroom problems that summer when four more women moved in? My brothers and I spent most of that summer using a toilet at the gas station down the road.

My twin brother and I had shared a bedroom our whole lives... up until a few months before when I was given permission to move into the basement, gaining a room of my own. When I did, I had the biggest bedroom in the house (even bigger than mom and dad's)... for a couple of months at least, until they came. Then my cousins got my room (the only finished portion of the basement and a room unto itself) and I got a curtain and space for a bunk next to the furnace fuel tank, under the dining room. Mom and Dad kept their room, of course, and my brothers doubled up in one small bedroom... a real inconveniece for our little brother since he'd always had a room alone... Aunt Connie got the other one.

It didn't bother me at the time, since such things didn't matter at that age, but later I was to wonder 'why' Aunt Connie and the girls moved in with us. It's something that was never explained. You see, Uncle Bud was mom's brother. Aunt Connie was no relation until they got married and her family was much more well to do than ours. She had two sisters living only blocks from her and they had huge houses by comparison... and smaller families too. Still, Connie moved in with us and Uncle Bud was persona non-gratta that summer.

The night they moved in was a mad house. The phone call came first and mom answered it. She was crying when she hung up and told dad and us kids that Aunt Connie and the girls were coming in a little bit to spend the night. Then she and dad went into their bedroom to talk. What I most remember about that moment was the feeling of elation at staying up late. It was bedtime but mom and dad said we should all stay up and help when they arrived.

When their car pulled into the front yard and stopped we all rushed outside to help. It was a warm early June night just after school ended. Us boys were all barefoot and wearing only our pajamas. Everyone came back into the house with arms full of bedding or suitcases and soon everyone was gathered in the living room. The girls were all nervous, crying, and Aunt Connie had a black eye forming. Her lip was split too and she was having trouble with one of her shoulders. Things were really confused then for a while, with mom, dad and Aunt Connie talking at the kitchen table and us boys trying to understand what was going on while trying to get our cousins to stop crying. Then dad came into the room and said, "Boys, go to bed. Girls, you'll have to sleep on the living room floor tonight, your mama's going to get the big couch. One of you can have the little couch if you want, but if there is any fighting you will all sleep on the floor. You have five minutes to use the bathroom and get in bed, then I'm turning off the lights."

That was the first night... things got worse the next day... or so I thought then.

I didn't sleep too good that night, what with my cousins all crying and upset, Aunt Connie hurt. I was confused and nervous myself, spending most of the night tossing and turning in my bed. When I did finally fall asleep I had a nightmare and woke up early.

It was about five-thirty when I came upstairs. The front door was standing open and mom and dad were both outside. Dad was leaving for work and mom was talking to the milk man. I guess she told him then that Aunt Connie and the girls were going to stay for a while. He brought a second milk house the next day and we started getting six half gallons of milk and three quarts of orange juice every other day instead of just three and one like we had been. That created problems in itself - they drank only two-percent milk and we preferred homoganized. Grab the wrong bottle and a bowl of cereal was ruined. Dad was getting into the car but I heard him call out to mom that he'd get off early and be home right after lunch.

I was still sleepy, mostly asleep really and my not quite awake mind had forgotten about our guests. I was on my way to the bathroom, off of the living room, and I was busy rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I walked. The basement stairs let into the dining room, right next to the front door. I had to walk through the kitchen and pass the door to Carl's, my little brother's, room to reach the living room. In the living room, the first door on the left was the bathroom, the second was my twin brother Phil's room, and then there was mom and dad's room. I stepped into the living room and the first thing I did was trip over my cousin Alivia, the youngest, and fall on top of my cousin Raquel, the oldest. I yelled, Raquel yelled and Alivia screamed. Suddenly everyone in the room was awake and mom had rushed back into the house.

Alivia was screaming and crying, rubbing her side where I'd accidently kicked her, while Raquel rubbed her boob and kept yelling that I'd grabbed it and tried to feel her up. I was curled in a ball on the floor, trying to figure out what was going on - what I'd done wrong, all the while trying to protect myself because Raquel and her sister Pat, the next in line, were both hitting me. My brothers slept through it all.

Alivia got picked up, hugged and comforted by Aunt Connie while mom extricated me and moved me out of reach. Everyone was assured that it had only been an accident and things calmed down a bit, though Raquel kept rubbing her boob and Alivia kept rubbing her side, complaining that it hurt. Me, I got a spanking... for scaring and hurting my cousins, and for not being more careful. I also found I was suddenly last in line to use the bathroom and I really had to go. I finally had to go outside, between our house and the neighbor's, and use a tree. Thankfully, they were only part-time and summer residents and had yet to arrive for the season.

Part 2 »