Adirondack Audacity Page 17

  A curling chill at the base of his spine wakes Vic with a start, his eyes open, horrified to see his father striding through the entrance doors followed by two State Troopers and what must be Ellen’s parents.

  “No!” He exclaims in disbelief. “Elle, quick wake up, they’re here, we gotta run.” He grabs my arm, yanking me to my feet. I gave a small scream, tripping in my haste as my eyes meet Helen’s, she gives me a look that sends a chill through me like a rush of frigid arctic air.

  “Run for the other door,” I cry, picking up my backpack, making a dash for the exit at the far end of the terminal.

  Just as we reach the exit, two young men, darker and heavier versions of Vic burst through the doors, his older brothers, Manuel and Louis. We’re trapped, no place to run, as the seven of them close in on us.

  With heaving chests and pounding hearts, Vic pushes me gently behind him in a protective gesture, and holds his hand up imploring them, “Listen, let’s just stop and talk. I know you’re angry with us. But please, just let us explain, we don’t need the police.”

  “Angry isn’t the half of it, you son of a bitch,” my father yells at him. “You bastard, knocking up my daughter and trying to run off with her. Take your filthy Mexican greaser hands off of her.” I stare in shock and disbelief at my father.

  “Well, well, Vicente.” Ramon Rienz says to his son with a sneer. “You certainly know how to pick them, charming people, just charming.”

  “Dad,” Vic says with pleading eyes. “I know this a shock. Yeah, we made a mistake, but we’re willing to accept the consequences. We want to get married and raise our baby. We have a friend who will help us, we’ll be fine. We can do this, please just leave us alone.”

  “That solution is unacceptable to both families,” His father states emphatically. “You are betrothed to Isabella Martin and your little punta’s family does not wish to dirty their family honor with a greaser for a son-inlaw.”

  Isabella Martin, who the hell is she? My brain screams.

  “I don’t love Isabella. I love Ellen. We won’t be separated; we have to stay together. Please try and understand for once in your life.”

  “Did you really think I was going to let you make the same mistake I made with your mother? Just looked how that turned out. We’re going home and you’re coming…. alone.”

  “Mr. Rienz,” I beseech him, moving alongside of Vic trying to keep the fear and fatigue out of my voice. “Please, can we talk, our friend is a teacher; he is older and responsible.” Well, maybe, Burt is sort of

  responsible….echoes in my mind. “Burt will let us stay with him and then next year we can start college. Our grades are good enough to get scholarships, so we won’t need any money. Please let us stay together. I’ll die without him. Please don’t do this to us.” My plea ends on a sob. Anxiety mixed with frustration rises in my throat choking off the flow of oxygen to my lungs; I feel faint and lightheaded. This can’t be happening.

  “You little punta, you should have thought of that before you spread your legs for him like a common slut.” Ramon Rienz says with vehemence, spitting at my feet, like I was a whore off the street. I reel back as if I’d been slapped.

  Seventeen years of repressed rage erupts in Vic as he reaches back, and slams his fist in his father’s face, blocking my father’s enraged charge at Ramon. The collision sends my father crashing into the terminal wall.

  “You, stupid bastard.” Ramon says through a clenched jaw, wiping the blood trickling down his chin from the bruised corner of his mouth.

  “Hold him, boys.” He commands Manuel and Louis who seized Vic, preventing his attack against the man who bullied and repressed him every day of his life.

  I watch in horror as Ramon’s huge boxing hands slam into Vic’s body with a sickening thud, “Noooo!” I scream, “Stop, stop it!” Turning to the police I beg, “Please make him stop before he kills him.”

  I lunge for Ramon’s arm hoping to stop the punch only to be catapulted backward by the force of his swing. The older trooper catches me, breaking my fall, while his partner steps in and grabs Ramon’s arm saying, “I think that is enough, Mr. Rienz.” Both of the troopers looked embarrassed and uncomfortable over this display of family violence. Apparently this Mr. Rienz has friends in high places and tonight, he called in his favors and they were the unfortunate ones on duty.

  In the confusion over my fall, Vic manages to slip from his brother’s grasp, his hand snakes forward and with a quick deft motion flips the leather security strap from the younger trooper’s holster and slides the gun out. He stands with a shaking arm, pointing the gun at his astonished audience; no one more startled by this unexpected turn of events than I. Sweet Jesus, Holy Mary, mother of God, what is he doing?!

  “What the hell!” The younger trooper sputters spinning around as he feels the gun lifted from his belt.

  “Nobody move.” Vic says, in a quavering voice, wiping the blood out of his eyes, holding the gun in a steady aim at the stunned group.

  “Elle, come over here, quick,” he commands.

  “Vic, what the hell are you doing?” I cry out in disbelief staring at the gun in horror.

  “I haven’t a clue, babe.” he says with a half sob, shaking his head, chest heaving while his teeth catch his trembling lower lip. “They didn’t leave us much choice, did they? I’m not leaving you.”

  What are we going to do? My mind races as seven pair of eyes watch our every move. “We can’t shoot them for God’s sake!” Out of the corner of my eye, I see the stationmaster frantically waving a stick with a key on it, motioning with emphatic hand gestures to the restrooms. He’s telling us to lock them in the restroom. Why is he helping us? “No, we can’t shoot them but we can lock them up.” I reply with a determined nod, sprinting over to the ticket booth where the key lays on the counter and the stationmaster feigns innocence.

  “Son, you better put that gun down, you could go to jail for assault with a deadly weapon. Let’s not have any more trouble here tonight.” The older trooper appeals to Vic, “Come on kid, give me the gun before someone gets hurt.”

  “Can you guarantee they’ll let us go?” Vic asks, raising his eyebrows in question, nodding as he watches the trooper shake his head. “I didn’t think so.”

  “Vic, I have the key for the restrooms.” I hold the key in my hand. “We’ll lock them in the bathroom.”

  “Okay.” Vic looks in my direction, assessing the location of the station manager and the restrooms.

  I watch the scene play out before my terror filled eyes. “Vic! Look out behind you!” The station security guard dives at Vic from an exit leading to the loading platform. The gun flies from his hand spinning in crazy circles as it slides across the floor. The two troopers jump on Vic in a flash, handcuffing his hands behind his back, standing him up against the wall, searching him for concealed weapons. I watch aghast as the older trooper reaches into the pocket of Vic’s leather jacket and draws out a small baggie with two joints sealed inside of it.

  “That’s not mine, Vic protests in disbelief. “I didn’t have any pot.” He turns to his father, his voice scalding with loathing. “You planted that shit on me, you son of a bitch!”

  “Well, well, Vicente,” His father smiles smugly. “You have been a very busy boy this evening, one pregnant girl, assaulting a police officer with a deadly weapon and now possession of an illegal substance. It’s difficult to keep up with you, Son. Sounds like a little time in jail may cool your ardor and help you get your priorities in line, doesn’t it?”

  “Sir, it’s not necessary to press charges.” The younger trooper says shrugging his shoulders. “The kid felt he had his back up against the wall and had no choice, we could look the other way and let this go.”

  “Mr. McCauley,” Ramon asks in a voice dripping with sarcasm, looking at my father with raised eyebrows. “What would you like to do?”

  “I hope he rots in jail for what he did to my daughter.” My father hisses, his face screwed up
in a mask of hatred aimed at Vic. I never knew my father capable of such emotion. Unfortunately, I can’t help but feel the sentiment is misplaced pride rather than love or concern for me.

  “Daddy, please don’t do this, please don’t send him to jail.” I beg him, tugging on his arm trying to have him just once look at me and realize that I’m real, not just a shadow in his life.

  “I’ll sign the papers tomorrow.” My father answers with finality through clenched jaws. “Show up on my doorstep and next time I’ll have the gun.” He points his finger at Vic’s chest. “And I swear to God, I’ll kill you.”

  “No!” I wail, “Please, please, I beg of you.” I’m screaming as hysteria courses through me, throwing my arms around Vic’s waist, refusing to be separated from him.

  “Officers, I’ll meet you at the station house to help process the paperwork. I’ll make sure arrangement can be made for him to be extradited to Mexico.” Ramon Rienz says smoothly. His trap baited, set and sprung. “There is no reason your government should bear the financial responsibility for the incarceration of my son. I’m sure Mr. McCauley doesn’t mind where my son goes to jail as long as he serves his time and the farther away from his daughter the better.”

  “That’s fine with me;; get him the hell out of here.” My father retorts with a contemptuous wave of his hand. “I don’t want him anywhere near my daughter ever again.” He looks Ramon in the eye. “Are we in agreement over this matter?”

  “Totally.” Ramon gloats with a smile of satisfaction. “Louis, you go with the McCauley family to make sure the arrangements for the girl are properly taken care of with as little fuss as possible. I’ll meet you back at the apartment in the city.”

  “Arrangements! What arrangements?” Vic cries out, frantic as he struggles almost breaking free from the hold the troopers have on him. “What the hell are you talking about? What are you going to do with her? So help me God, if you hurt her or the baby, you will live to regret it.”

  Helen gives Vic a dismissive glance, a small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. “Your little friend will be going to a lovely remote convent for wayward girls. I’ve known Ellen was pregnant for some time. I took the liberty of finding just the right place for her to finish out her confinement.” Helen speaks in a calm soothing voice for the first time, looking impeccable in her Chanel suit, not a hair out of place even though it’s six o’clock in the morning. To look at her one would think she dressed for a celebration and in her mind it was, she was finally vindicated in her revenge against my mother. My humiliation and downfall into disgrace is sweet revenge for her. Yes, revenge can be sweet, sometimes the longer one waits the sweeter the taste. She sniffs in disdain, “It’s such a shame that it had to come to this.” She says coolly, glancing down to check the perfect finish of her polished nails. “But Ellen knows sins must be atoned for through prayer and sacrifice, only through the help of the good nuns, may God forgive and help redeem her soul.” Her face glitters, breaking in a thousand shards of hatred spinning off toward me as she stares into my eyes with unmistakable malice and says, “May God help you, my dear, you have always been a difficult child.” I look beseeching at my father who shakes his head in disgust, turning away from me.

  I spit out at the two of them, beyond caring. What more can they do to me? “I hope the two of you burn in hell, I will never forgive you for this!”

  “Elle, I’ll come back, I promise!” Vic shouts as the State Police drag him handcuffed through the station door into the early morning, the sky streaked pink with the coming dawn, shoving him into the back seat of the waiting patrol car.

  The world spins around me as I sink to my knees, supported by Vic’s brother, Louis. The finely honed trap our families planned for us overwhelms me. The enormity of their convoluted warped concern is a front for the deep-seated resentment that we dare flaunt their dominance and control over our lives. We were going to pay. Oh, yes, we were going to pay dearly for that sin and not even God and his legion of angels could help us now. We were going to hell.

  Chapter 22 Lost

  March through May 1983 Oh yes, Helen had her revenge. She laid her plans for me carefully. A meaner more dogmatic place was not to be found. An austere old mansion donated to the church, encircled by an eight foot high wrought iron fence. Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception, what an ironic name to call a home for wayward girls. My room, a hole, a cell, everyone hates it here, even the nuns. The next few months, a prison term, days divided between work, prayer and school. Determined to graduate high school in June, my studies a distraction to the misery of my days. Awakened at dawn, the bells summon us to the cold, damp chapel for prayer, to atone for our sins of earthly pleasure. Obey the church and confess your sins. I don’t care what they say; my love for Vic is not a sin. This baby growing in me is not a sin. We made a mistake, a reckless abandonment of the rules. How could a loving God be so angry with us?

  I dream Vic will fly down and take me out of here. But I don’t know where he is…..in jail…here or in Mexico? The uncertainty, the fear of not knowing keeps me awake at night.

  I ’m allowed no contact with the outside. No letters, no phone calls, no visitors to deter my time for reflection and prayer for my immortal soul. I thought I heard Burt down in the lobby one day, yelling. I swear it was his voice. But the doors between the entranceway and dormitories are kept locked. I was told it was a figment of my imagination, part of my condition, but I know it was Burt.

  Our baby was born in May, and they stole it. Helen and my father signed my child away for adoption. Saying I was too young and I would later thank them. After eighteen hours of labor, I was not even allowed to hold my son. They said I would thank them……..only on a cold day in hell will I ever thank those bastards for what they did to me. I never knew I was capable of such hatred.

  I returned home with the single minded goal of finishing up my senior exams and finding Vic again. My grandmother was not allowed to see me. Helen said she would taint me with her liberal ideas. I have no idea what that meant…..Gran?

  I barely recovered my strength from the baby when a phone call came from Mexico. Helen called me to the phone, saying it was Vic’s aunt. Overcome with joy I snatched the phone out of her hand,…… the woman on the line was sobbing into the phone, her voice making no sense, the words refusing to register in my stunned brain. “I don’t’ know how to tell you this, senorita, but there has been an accident. Last night, Vicente, our beautiful Vicente, was riding his motorcycle, he had just gotten out of jail and we knew he was planning to find you. His father forbade him to do so and they had a fight. He got on that motorcycle, furious at his father, driving too fast; he went around a mountain curve.” She stops to blow her nose, gasping with tears. “The bike slid out from underneath him, he went over the embankment into a tree.” She pauses, “He was dead on impact.” I dropped the phone with a wordless scream, by the time I reach my bedroom, my world went black. I curled up in the fetal position on my bed, refusing to eat, drink or talk; for all intents and purposes, I died that day with Vic.

  My depression so deep, and not knowing what to do, my father and Helen asked the family doctor to sign papers committing me to the county mental institution. Only by the grace of God, Doc Winkle….. our family doctor for years, treating everyone in town, regardless of age, creed or money,knew me well enough… and Helen…..to realize this was not the right decision. So behind my father’s back, he went to Gran. Armed with her cane and Burt by her side, Gran stormed the house, marching up to my bedroom and held off my father and Helen with a string of profanities that would scorch the hide off the devil, himself while Burt picked me up in his scrawny sinewy arms and carried me away.

  Only through the sheer force of their will and determination did they nurse me back to health. Filling my days with the things I loved, flowers, books, opening the windows of my bedroom to the fresh summer air, and the sounds of birds, frogs and toads in their early summer chorus. Tempting food, not one ounce of tofu or any
crazy vegan concoction, just fresh wholesome foods gathered from the local farmer’s market to whet my appetite.

  Butterflies in jars during the day to keep me company until dark, then Burt would release them and replace them with fireflies at night. Music, jokes and light hearted banter combined with the care they bestowed upon me, cracked through the darkness of my nightmare and they taught me to live again, laugh and eventually they taught me I could love again……..…

  Adirondack Found

  Chapter 23 Adirondack Found……August 21, 2012 The flight attendant works her way through the first class section of the plane, refilling wine glasses. Thankfully, the turbulence subsided and the captain has turned off the fasten seat belt sign. I tell the hostess, no thank you. Two glasses of wine made me happy but by the third glass I was melancholy. I’m excited about seeing Lani for the first time since Christmas. But this trip is reviving old memories, maybe because this is the first time I’ve traveled without Jack. They say grieving can last for many years. Frankly, I’m tired of it……first losing Vic and now my husband, Jack.