The major crisis had faded and all the animals were recovering. I was still worn out and very stressed since I knew a "created" crisis was inevitable now that a degree of calm had returned. "Business as usual" was anathema to The Boss. He would have to invent some catastrophe or issue to remain large and in charge. That was his style.
April 22, 1966, Friday
Got up and about early. Mom and I drove out at 7:30 leaving Charlie Mike to get Alex and himself off to school. The Boss left for Prescott early. Mom sent me off to be out of the way which kinda upset me. I was all for packing up and going right away, really. We talked most of the morning away and I had to hurry to get the midday chores done, bathed and head for the dentist. I had to wait awhile and finally got my tooth drilled out but have to go back next week to have it filled. Oh hell. I rode over to Old Nick’s. Sold my recorder for $5.00, a poor price but I need the cash. He wasn’t interested in Rufus but listened to my tale of woe about injured and killed animals and all. The Boss got home about 5:00 and reported on his trip and then threatened me with all kinds of dire stuff, apparently thinking I really intended to run off at once and live with Dusty without benefit of marriage. He is sure trying to make me out a whore and I get awfully riled sometimes. But things cooled down. “Don’t blow your cool, Baby.” The evening chores were done in due time and I read the new Reader’s Digest. After supper I made up my purple floral peasant blouse quickly before going down for the final feeding. By golly a few more days of this will bury me but I don’t reckon it matters. Dusty has been gone five weeks now and not a line have I heard. I’ve been ditched, don’t you think? Well bullshit. Don’t blow that cool.
I still rode out some through this period but often Mom and I drove out. We went early today as The Boss had a trip planned. At this point I could hardly bring myself to say"Dad"; he had turned into a tyrant and was totally unpredictable and unreasonable much of the time. I guess that was why Mom shooed me off when we got back before he left. She knew my fuse was getting very short.We talked but did not resolve anything.
I rode to Cottonwood to the dentist and then on to the junk store about a half mile along the highway through town at that time.The real name of the proprietor refuses to come to me. I knew it once, I am sure. So then I was home and the Boss returned. I guess his trip did not go quite to plan as he was already not happy. And the created issue started at once. If nothing else, then his vision of my running off to shack up would suffice. He could threaten and fume and damn me for that. I had told Mom several times I was NOT going to go off that way, and emphasized Dusty did not want me to and would not allow it. So where and why? Yes, I had recently said frequently I wanted to leave but the purpose was to find a job, not elope! There was little I could say and expect to be heard so I strove to keep cool. The rant ran down and things fell back into the routine. The late feeding had been established as the animals recovered and kept their feed disbursed throughout the long day. More work, sorting and such. Charlie Mike and I did it.
I went on as if all was okay but I had lost the little progress made in pulling out of my depression. Death would be such a relief... It is sad and bad to feel that way. I got past it but not quickly or easily. Less than a week later I turned 23.
What pictures will work here? Some natural portraits of the family. Mom first, she was about 46 and probably in peri-menopause which I did not understand at the time but she was not doing well. Next is Dad--the Boss--apparently displeased about something--or anything. Midlife crisis at age 54 perhaps. Charlie checking a tire. Next Charlie, not quite 15, with his normal grim or sullen face. He was certainly not happy. And last me, holding a mule we called Dynamite. I did not look too happy either. Were any of us, ever?
No comments:
Post a Comment