Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Saved by an old biker

I was 22 years young and in a horribly abusive relationship. He was a worthless, non-working, drug addicted alcoholic. Oh yes, I knew how to pick 'em. I can not even begin to tell you the things this puke did. He always said he would rather see me dead that with another man. I knew I had to escape to survive.

I went to work and never came home. I got out with one change of clothes, my make-up, and my purse. Puke, of course, gave all of my belongings away. I moved in with my friend Carolyn that I worked with at the bar. Puke started stalking me. The bouncers protected me at work. They were off duty police officers and when Puke was around, would even give me a ride home. I awoke one morning with Puke sleeping next to me in my bed. The freak broke into Carolyn's house through a window. It was time to move again.

I didn't have anywhere to go. I didn't want to expose anyone else to Puke slithering around their homes or families.

I had another friend I worked with, Theresa. Not really an exceptional person, but she had a bad ass boyfriend. A few months prior, Puke and I met Mark, via Theresa, after the bar closed and was invited to his motorcycle gang's clubhouse to party. Mark despised him and told me Puke was never welcome at the clubhouse again. Mark was exceptional.

Mark and Theresa invited me to move in with them. We lived on the outskirts of town in an old rental house on 240 acres. Mark protectively stated, "Let the son-of-a-bitch come out here. I'll shoot him, bury him out in the north forty, and no one will ever know". He was serious. Puke knew this. Puke never bothered me again.

Mark was crazy. He would tell you, "I'm crazy. I have papers to prove it. Ya want to see 'em?" He was on permanent disability. He was a little paranoid and had a gun by every window. He adored his animals. He had a pitbull names Toes, and a basset hound named Sammy Dog. Toes was breeding stock and before breeding, Mark would always say, "Toes won't fuck unless I read him Penthouse Forum", and he would. Sammy Dog could talk. He would only do it if you had food. "Sammy, say hello". "Herro. Herro". You had better give him his snack.

Mark was probably around 45. I never knew his last name. I went out of my way to avoid learning too much for fear of being questioned by the police. He taught me how to take care of myself, how to shoot, how to change a tire, and freed me. I had many adventures living there. He may have been a bit of an outlaw, but he was an angel to me.

I often wonder how old Mark is doin'. Bless you baby, where ever you are.

12 comments:

fineartist said...

That freak is right where he belongs too. He is still incarcerated yes? Last time we checked he was, maybe we need to check again. Look up ol' pukes mug shot...I'll do it so you don't have to see his face...again.

I never met Mark, I wanted to, but it just never happened.

Theresa I remember. I remember her curled up on mom's couch putting her makeup on. Man she had a pile of makeup. I remember her being pretty. I also remember her being odd, not in a good way odd, but high odd probably.

Why do I want to call Mark's dog Face?

You must tell about the skunk urine sometime, maybe.

Love ya more than cherry mash candy bars, Lori

pearl said...

sometimes the scariest, weirdest people can be the kindest....its odd huh??

zilla said...

Cherry mash candy bars -- is this sister-speak-code-talk, or is it something real?

Skunk urine. Yes, tell us all about the skunk urine. Enquiring minds want to know about the skunk urine.

Becky -- your life! Woman, you've got to write a book.

I'm so glad Mark was there for you. I'm glad you've got a hellafine man in your life now, too. You've earned some peace!

Sassy said...

Sounds like I need an outlaw. Know any good ones? I've always wanted to learn how to shoot a gun (even though im scared of them).

Glad you got away from Puke!

beckyboop said...

Zilla,

Oh how we love the cherry mashes.

Becky

beckyboop said...

Lori,

Yes, Puke is right where he belongs, in the big house. I hear he is big in the Arian (spelling?) brotherhood (what a puke!). Of course, I heard this from Mom. You know she still keeps in touch with the bastard through correspondence! I think she has even let him call her collect! WTF?

beckyboop said...

Sassy,

I'm glad you are getting away from your Puke too!! You are on your way to lovin' life.

Writer Mom said...

I now I know where cherry mash candy bars came from!

Agreed. Book is required. I'm trying to get through Winesburg, Ohio. If you haven't read, it's a series of stories all tied to the same small town. It's a classic, but it's just not speaking to me like your writing does. I wouldn't be able to put a book of your life down.
Your sister's, either.
Or Zilla's, for that matter.
Hell, in six months, I'm just going to start printing these all out, and then I'll send them to you in manuscript form.

Writer Mom said...

(AND now I know. Grrr.)

Jess said...

Ever notice that it's the "crazy" ones who make the best friends and teachers sometimes? It's a damn good thing "crazy" and insane have different meanings :p

Rain said...

He defended and protected you, the exact opposite of puke, and you were not his girlfriend but his friend. That makes it more special. I love that story. I agree, you must have a lot of good stories to tell.

Holly said...

What? No comments on the guy reading the dogs porn so that they can "perform"?

Yes, definitely a great story. I happen to love the crazies, and it's always good to have one on your side. Especially ones with big guns. And, of course, I love any crazy that protects mah Becky from harm.

But my mind goes straight to the visual a large biker dude reading his dog Penthouse Forum so said dog can get in the mood. That just blows me away. Maybe I shouldn't say "blow".

Anybody else wanna touch this one? Anybody? Bueller?