Shadows Beneath

Chapter 14

He stumbled in the door and I just sat there looking at him in amazement. I was actually amazed that he was alive and made it home in one piece and didn't kill anyone. By the looks of it, I'm surprised He even made it through the door. Usually he's not in this bad of shape until just before he passes out at night. It was only about six. Two hours later than his usual time for getting home. The night was still young and by the looks of it he was on a mission. There was still almost a full case of beer in the refrigerator plus a fifth of whiskey a third of the way gone in his hand. He never drinks liquor, mostly just beer. "What the fuck is your problem? What are you staring at you little spoiled asshole?" This comment from him actually made me laugh. I was a million miles from spoiled. I earned everything I owned. "Just watching TV, hoping you don't fall over so that I don't have to pick your drunk ass up off the floor" I said rather sarcastically. I had to, I couldn't help but be a smart ass about it. He just about did fall over when he was taking his shoes off and I might have laughed a little bit on the inside about it. I think I'll try to be nice about it and try to show a little concern, or interest into why he's so plastered so early.

"What happened today? I've never seen you drinking liquor before? Plus it's only six. Do you want to talk about it?" I was doing what I thought I should. Talking to him they way my mom did when he was his usual drunk, but it didn't seem to work. "None of your goddamn business you little bastard. Don't try to act like you genuinely give a shit," he says as he's swaying a little bit here and there and attempting to point his finger at me.I didn't honestly give a shit. I could care less really about what his problem was. I actually wish that he would just stumble down the hallway and pass out in their bedroom. Of course that didn't happen. He makes his way into the kitchen to get a beer and comes back in the living room and finds the couch. Great, now he's going to talk my ear off. I asked for it I guess.

He explains, the best he could, his reasoning for being drunk and coming home late. Apparently the company he works for let go of nearly fifty people. A lot of his good friends. People that depended on that job to support their families and literally had no other kind of support except for that job. I guess they had known that this was a possibility since the company had been under new ownership about a year ago. Nothing ever happened with that so people thought their jobs were safe. That wasn't the case. People that had worked there for fifteen years or less were let go. He was lucky, he was just over twenty years in. He didn't understand why that happened, but it did. It was a shock to everyone still working too. They announced that their pay was going to be cut by ten percent. This would be effective after a certain time period, thirty days I believe he said. My mom and him were already struggling with the taxes going up and now this. I could see why he was pissed. After twenty plus years of working for the same company, who gets paid less? I mean seriously, that's not right. This whole time sipping his beer and whiskey and nearly passing out numerous times telling me all of this. I really do understand his frustration. I don't think he wants to hear pity right now, so I just nod and listen.

My mom should be home shortly. It's almost seven now. She's used to dealing with him when he's drunk. He sets his drinks down and tries walking, but stumbles into a shelf, knocking over and breaking a few of my bowling awards I had on there. He doesn't even care about it. He just keeps on down the hall and finds the bathroom. I pick up the pieces of what's left of my awards. As I'm doing this, my mom walks through the door and sees this. "What happened sweetheart?" "Oh just your drunk husband knocking things over and not giving a shit" I replied in a rather nasty, angry tone. She glances over and sees his drinks on the table and I sit back down and give her a brief overview of the events that occurred. She shook her head and said, "I'm sorry, I'll take care of this." "I hope so" I said. She knows I don't like him very much, that  I just deal with him.

She proceeds down the hallway and into her room to get changed. He finally gets out of the bathroom and heads in there as well. It was quiet for a minute or two before the yelling and cussing started. This goes on for a few more minutes as I sit there and just watch TV to drown out the yelling. My mom comes storming out of the room heading for the kitchen yelling, "you are such an asshole!" No idea where that came from but it was funny to me. I was subliminally cheering her on. A minute or two later as she's heading back they meet up right in front of the TV. Seriously, does it have to be right in that spot?

She continues to yell at him about his constant drinking and how he treats everyone like shit, as if we're all beneath him. About how she's tired of all the constant insults and verbal abuse to not only her, but her kids. She's nearly in tears at this point. He retaliates by saying shit about how her job is worthless and can't pay any bills and she needs to find a new one since he's getting paid less. He tells her how she's lazy and doesn't do shit around the house and his food is always cold. She interrupts and says, "fuck you buddy. If you weren't constantly drunk, we'd have more money. If you weren't constantly drunk, you could see I do fucking everything around here while you sit on your lazy ass and drink all goddamn night and insult everyone. So fuck you!" she screamed. "What the fuck did you just say to me?" He asks. "Fuck me?"..."Fuck me?" he says again. Then he pushes her and says "fuck you, you ungrateful bitch."

My jaw dropped. He just pushed, physically fucking abused my mother. As if the verbal wasn't enough. It was on a whole new level now. Those feelings from my confrontation with Mike started rushing back to me. I felt a feeling of weightlessness. I was staring at him, but it was like I was staring right through him. My body started trembling. My blood was boiling. Adrenaline filled me. I was seeing red again. I stood up, at this point he was still yelling at her as she was just sobbing. I couldn't hear it. I couldn't hear anything. I stood in between him and my mother, shaking, sweating. I looked down at him, grabbed him by his shirt with both hands, picked him up and slammed him against the wall in the hallway. Then I grabbed him by his throat and squeezed and stared in his eyes from about an inch away. I could see fear in him. He should be scared. I could kill him for what he just did. I said in a plain, calm voice, "you don't ever put your hands on a lady, especially not one that I care about." Then I dropped him back down to his feet and let him breathe again. I pushed him back against the wall, stared at him, and while staring at him and never breaking eye contact I punched the wall right next to his head and put a hole in the drywall. I yelled, " if you ever pull some shit like this again I swear to fucking God your fucking face is going to be where that hole is! Keep your fucking hands off of her motherfucker!"

He dropped to his hands and knees in the hallway. He probably pissed himself. I think I scared my mom too. She stood there and looked at me in amazement. Not saying anything. I just walked over to her and gave her a hug and said, "I love you mom, don't worry, he's not going to touch you ever again." She hugged me even tighter after that and started crying again. There's a difference though. These were happy tears. This was the first time in her life anyone has ever stood up for her. It just happened to be me that did it.