The next two years of my life are hard to recall in some cases and hard to write down in others. Some of the things that happened I will never even say out loud. I will say I tried everything I could think of to not die. Not be injured. Not suffer anymore humiliation. At first I was meek. Then I begged to go to counselling. Then I fought back. Plain and simple, you can't out smart what you don't understand. There was never a specific thing that would set him off but one thing intensified his moods and that was drinking. Sex was on demand, his. Anytime, anywhere. I prayed through these acts of what passed for passion, "please God do not let me get pregnant. I would rather be barren than bring a child into this world who would have to deal with him". Sometimes my prayer was more like, "please God, let him die of a heart attack right now".
One day I was at the print shop when who should drop in but Elsie. He came to announce his engagement. He just wanted me to know the wedding would be small so I was not invited. I didn't say what I was thinking which was, "Is there a church big enough to hold the parade? Doubt It". Now I had a new goal, get out, get away and never, ever see Elsie again. It pissed me off that he dared to be happy. He walked away all bronze and rock god haired without a look back.
OK, L O N G story short. In these two or so years I got left in a hotel in west Texas with no money. Food was frequently thrown across the room, my dog had boiling water thrown on her, I had numerous bruises and scrapes and a broken bone or two. Life sucked. Like most people who suffer abuse, I was isolated from all my friends except Bill, he was my boss. Time with family was limited. Holidays were timed. I had an hour and 15 minutes to spend at my parents for most occasions. I started thinking of ways to kill Oops or escape. I was not going to prison.
I started saving every penny I could. I hid the money at work. I started eating lunch with the maiden ladies at the print shop, they fed me. I loved them The talked about growing up on the edge of the prairie, (TCU). Vendors coming to the house everyday selling vegetables, and meat and ice and tamales. They talked with great excitement about the first grocery store. These women were God fearing, lovely ladies and they were just what you imagine four sisters who lived together their entire lives would be like. Bill's mom lived across the street from the sisters. This family was a novel waiting to happen. They spoke of the wild days in Ft. Worth when there was Hell's Half Acre, bars and whorehouses. Of course they didn't say that. They said H E double hockey sticks with bad women and drunks.
One day while we were having lunch the topic of discussion was the woman who had set her husband on fire after years of abuse. They all agreed that this woman probably was of a low life type who deserved it. These God fearing women thought that someone like me deserved to be abused. I was stunned.
One time the police showed up at the door. The neighbors had called. Oops and I were separated and questioned by separate policeMEN. The conclusion: I shouldn't make him so mad.
I was on my own. I had managed to save maybe fifty dollars. I bought a Polaroid camera and hid it in a ramshackle tool shed in our backyard. I bought a claw hammer and taped it to side rail on my side of the bed. I would kill him if I had to.
My LeMans had long ago bitten the dust and dad had sold me his eleven year old car for fifty bucks. It was worth maybe half that. Eventually this car stopped running and it was my job to get us a new car. That would involve my dad. OH NO. Oops had a bad habit of driving like an idiot and burning up engines. Right now he still had the VW but it too was on it's last legs. I got my dad to co-sign a note just for me. I told Oops that dad wouldn't co-sign unless I was the only one on the title. I didn't know why exactly but I knew that community property would make things worse.
Oops started working nights. This was perfect. We were rarely home together. I made a habit of sleeping on the sofa. I felt trapped in our room when he came in late. I wanted out the door if I needed to go. One morning I was sick. Too sick to work and it was Oops' day off. As was his habit, he worked then went somewhere and got real drunk, came home and passed out. I was very quiet. I didn't want to deal with him one minute longer than I had to. Someone knocked on the door. A woman Oops worked with, All dressed up and shocked when I answered the door. She looked at me and I knew she was sleeping with Oops. Good. This could only work to my advantage.
I feel bad I didn't tell her. Didn't show the pictures I was accumulating of my injuries but she was my ticket out. I would let her know once I was safe just what he really was. I also knew she would not believe me. I wouldn't have believed it of him.
This is when his VW bit the dust and we only had my car. He took me to work, picked me up, took me home and took the car to work. Repeat day after day. We had no money to fix th Beetle. One car complicated my plan.
Finally, I had my plan and I was ready. This was freedom or hell. I had the timing of my plan. I had told Bill what was going on and that one day I just wouldn't be at work. I would be back but I didn't know how long I would be gone. I waited to tell my parents until the absolute last minute. Like the night I had chosen to escape. I had no where to go but home. They could belittle and berate me later but first they had to do things my way. Exactly my way, no questions. Not until I was safe.
Yeah, right.
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