Breaking Brooklyn (17 page)

Suddenly, Sy remembered finding the rusty
wrench. Hiding in my room I could hear his rage
building.

“
G-GOD DAAAAMN IT! Every
f-f-fucking time….”

Then I heard his heavy footsteps approaching
my room. My light was off. I had made sure of that. Hopefully he
would think I was asleep and just go away. The sound of his
movements paused, then I heard then move closer, becoming louder. I
could feel my gut wrench as each of Sy’s footsteps pounded like a
bass drum in my chest. While I lay still, squeezing my eyes shut, I
willed him to leave. Then the door flew open! Sy blinded me with a
click of the light. I opened my eyes, just a slit, enough to track
his movements. He staggered around. Then I felt his stare burn a
hole into me as I lay on the dirty mattress on the
floor.

“
Whaaat the f-f-fucks’s your
prooooblem boy?”

I pretended I was asleep and didn't hear
him.

“
How maaany times have I tooold
you to t-t-take care of m-my tools?"

I was breathing so heavy I couldn’t
answer.

"I k-know you caaaan hear m-m-me! You
beeeeetter anssswer me or I will give yoooou an ass whipping you’ll
n-never fooorget!”

Catching my breath, I begged him for
forgiveness. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to forget the wrench. I will
never do it again!”

“
Yeah, yooou saaay that e-e-every
time. Yooou’re sorry. Do yooou think I’m f-f-fucking stupid?! Yooou
need to take b-b-better care of m-my tools. I shouldn’t let yooou
use them at a-all!”

“
I'm sorry, Sy! It was an
accident!”

All of a sudden the posters in the room caught
his attention.

“
Whaaat’s this s-s-shit? Why the
h-hell wooould yooou bring this s-shit into my
hoooouse?”

Sy squinted his eyes at one of the posters
that was starting to peel off the wall. I saw it at the same
time.

“
Whaaat the f-f-fuck is this!” Sy
yelled as he walked toward the poster and pulled it off the
wall.

He was stunned when he saw the holes that it
covered. He exploded into a fury of craziness, real craziness.
Moving like a bull moose, he crossed the room, jerking me off the
mattress by my hair and dragged me to the wall.

He smashed my head in and out of the drywall
over and over again. A cloud of dust filled the room. I choked on
the debris. Dropping me to the floor, he stomped on my face, then
pulled down more of the posters. Seeing more holes, he went right
over the edge of sanity.

“
Whaaat the f-f-fuck is your
problem? What maaakes yoooou think yoooou have the right p-p-put
holes in my waaaalls? Yooou doooon’t live h-here. This isn’t
yoooour f-f-fucking hoooouse!”

He then picked me up by my shirt collar and
threw me across the room. I was in a daze, my ears ringing from the
blow to my head. He continued to pull down posters until the bare,
broken walls were totally revealed.

He grabbed me again by the hair and smashed my
face into the wall. The drywall dust mingled with the blood that
was running down my face. I gasped for air, fighting to get away. I
think this excited him.

Turning me toward him, he punched me in the
face with his huge fist. My nose exploded, blood flying in all
directions. He hit me again in the mouth, splitting both corners
wide open. Suddenly, with tornado-like force, Sy threw me on the
mattress. There was a look of satisfaction on his face as he
flipped off the light and walked out.

He hadn’t knocked me out, but I couldn’t
think. My whole body was numb. I relived everything in slow motion.
Gradually, I regained my senses and started shaking uncontrollably.
I tried to push myself up, but my arms were too weak.

It wasn’t long before Sy was back. This time,
he didn’t even bother to turn on the light. Walking slowly to the
end of the dirty mattress where I lay, he stood in silence. I could
smell the stench of distilled spirits oozing from his pores. I
closed my eyes tightly, expecting another beating. When it didn’t
come, I opened them with trepidation. That’s when I saw him doing
the unthinkable: he started to unzip his pants like he was going to
take a piss.

“
Yooou’re a-a worthless p-p-piece
of shittt!”

Grabbing me by the back of my head he pulled
me up on my knees. Shaking me violently, he yelled, “Y-You pieeece
of s-shit!”

He smacked my face with his other hand.
Looking up at him in a daze I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
He reached into his pocket and removed a quarter-moon welding knife
and held it to my throat.

“
I s-should fuucking k-kill
you!”

Sy’s eyes were as dark as coal cinders. I
remember thinking to myself this was the end. I didn’t care, I was
ready to leave this fucking hell.

“
Kill me!” I screamed.

I was no longer afraid. I didn't give a fuck.
A part of me wanted to die. I think my sudden confidence startled
Sy as common sense caught the best of him. He put his knife away
and let me go. I fell to the floor.

I could feel his sweat drip on my leg.
Breathing heavily, he paused to catch his breath. He then pulled
off his belt. Creating a loop with the worn leather he pulled it
together with force, making a loud popping sound.

"SMACK, SMACK!"

He did this several times, I think in an
effort to intensify the moment. Picking me up from the floor he
throw me face down on the bed. Then he pulled down my pajama pants
and beat me with his belt. I could feel him losing
control.

Then Sy did the worst thing I could ever
imagine. He unbuttoned his pants and removed his penis. I had no
idea what was about to happen. I begged God to take make it stop,
but He wasn’t listening. I was too weak to fight. Looking at the
wall in front of me I saw Sy’s silhouette from the light of the
moon. I heard him spit into his hand. Then I blacked
out.

When I woke, I felt a warm liquid zigzagging
all over my body. It randomly made its way from my toes to my head.
The smell was sour and made me want to gag.

When I looked up, I saw Sy pissing on me.
Finishing he stumbled back, wiping the sweat off his face. The hair
that outlined his head like a horseshoe was disheveled. I lay
motionless on the mattress, now covered in dried blood and drywall
dust. My body seemed to float above me. I couldn’t move. I felt
nothing, nothing but shame. I eventually fell asleep.

DREAM:

I am walking down the hall to Sy’s room.
Every step, my hatred for him building. When I enter the kitchen I
find him hunched over, his head in his hands, sitting at the
table.

I make myself sit down across from him,
drywall dust and blood cover my face. With no expression or emotion
whatsoever, I stare at him.

Sick from the night before, he doesn’t
notice me. When he does, he notices my unwavering stare. He grows
restless, twitching in his chair. Looking at my distorted face, I
can tell he feels uncomfortable.

“What the fuck are you looking
at boy?” he mumbles.

I don't say a word. I can tell
he doesn’t know what to think.

I start to speak very slowly, very
deliberately.

“One day when I grow
up…”

I stop and hold my breath for a moment. Sy
doesn’t say a word during this awkward moment, his eyes anxiously
lock on me.

“One night, you are going to
wake in a cold sweat and when you look up, you are going to see me
standing over you holding this rusty hook blade knife.”

As I say these words, I hold the knife in
front of me.

“When you wake, you will
realize what feels like sweat is actually a puddle of your own
blood.”

Sy looks at me, his bloodshot eyes
flashing with memories of what he had done to me. Finally, I see
fear. Exactly what I wanted. He now knows he will have to sleep
with one eye open for the rest of his miserable
life.

Cindy

Chapter eightteen

"For last year's words belong to
last year's language. And next year's words await another voice.
And to make an end is to make a beginning."
T.S. Eliot

Cindy Napier’s Diary

March 29th 1994

When I arrived in Bloomington with Michael and
Danielle, my father welcomed us with open arms. All I wanted was
get the hell out of Indianapolis and far away from Sy. With no job
and no money, I had no choice but to show up at my father’s
doorstep.

To say he had no room for us was an
understatement. A full sized bed and an old black and white TV on
top of a dresser took up most of the room. There was a dingy smell
that filled the air and the only source of light was an old ceiling
fan above the bed that made a constant clanking sound. When
Danielle and Michael fell asleep, my father and I sat at the small
wooden table where he ate his meals. We talked until the sun
started to rise. He told me about his recovery and his new job at
Boys and Girls Club.

I broke down and cried when I told my father
how I was going to make a fresh start, get off the booze, and
create a decent life for my children. I had a plan to get sober, go
back to school, and become a paralegal. I was going to apply for
government assistance so I could get a place for my own to
live.

He listened intently until his eyes grew
red-rimmed. I could see him struggling to keep them
open.

“
I need to get a little rest so I
can make it through the day tomorrow. How about I make a bed for
myself on the floor and you take the bed?” he asked.

That night, I slept in the bed with my babies,
one on each side of me. I whispered to them while they were asleep,
that we were safe.

We lived like this for several months while I
applied to as many housing programs as I could. I even applied for
food stamps and cash assistance, which wasn’t difficult to get with
two kids and no job.

While I waited to see if I got into any of the
housing programs, I faithfully attended AA meetings with my father.
That’s when I met Leo, an ex-Indiana University football player,
whom my father was sponsoring.

Our acquaintance started as a friendship that
soon became more. Dating other people in the program was frowned
upon so we had to hide our relationship from the others.

Leo was a large black guy who was awarded a
football scholarship, then lost it when he stopped going to class.
Eventually he was cut from the team, which led him to drop out of
school. He then drifted from job to job, nothing sticking.
Desperate for money he started stealing to curb his cravings. When
he got arrested a condition of his probation was to attend AA,
which led him to me.

Life was getting so boring! Our coffee meets
turned from cream and sugar to sex. Neither of us had a place of
our own, so we would do it wherever it was convenient, the back
seat of the car, a gas station bathroom, and once in the public
library restroom. Every once in a while, I would sneak out of the
room at the Gas Light late at night when everyone was asleep. I
would find Leo in the woods beside the Inn. I knew what I was doing
was not good for me, but I was struggling with sobriety. There was
no outlet for me, so instead of taking a drink or popping pills, I
had sex.

Then everything change. I received a notice in
the mail that I was approved for one of the housing programs! I was
going to have a place of my own for the first time in my life! It
didn’t take me long to sign the contract and get moved in. I was so
proud of myself. I made it happen.

My new place was a nice A-frame style house
with the master bedroom on the first floor and two bedrooms on the
second floor. Of course, Leo practically moved in with me, which
turned out to be a disaster. When our AA group found out it didn’t
go over well. Leo and I soon fell off the wagon and right onto skid
road. We began drinking and using again. Sober, we sort of worked.
Drunk or high was a different story.

When Jack came to visit for the summer he
begged me to let him live with me permanently. I refused at first,
but he was so persistent. I could see how much he loved his brother
and sister, so I conceded.

I was surprised when my mother agreed to let
him live with me. At first things worked out well, but soon Jack
was getting into it with Leo. Then he started running with the
wrong crowd. He was only 15 years old! I could see the slippery
slope he was on. I was struggling with sobriety myself. So I called
my mother to come get him.

Jack was blindsided when she showed
up.

Chapter
nineteen

“Childhood should be carefree,
playing in the sun; not living a nightmare in the darkness of the
soul.”
~Dave Pelzer