Beginnings WHEN I WAS FIVE
What I will remember 50 years from now is being 5 years old and Living on W104th Street, NYC. All I knew is we were not supposed to call him Daddy because we were constantly running from him. We called him Percy. When we were left alone in the house, we were never supposed to open the door for Percy. We were supposed to pretend we were not home. My mother said If he comes by while I'm out HIDE dont open the door. He was almost always drunk and a little bit crazy my mother said he had a metal plate in his head from being in the war. That made him unstable. He was always doing things like drinking up the food or rent money (abusing us or my mother) he left my two eldest siblings brother and sister on a Central Park bench overnight. She had an order of protection but he was always catching up to us so we ran from apartment to apartment. Still there was always an inevitable explosion.Before my mother had seen the light she would leave us with him for extended periods.
After all he was our father. However to Percy we were not his children when he was really out of it due to drink or that head plate we were enlisted men every one of us from the eldest Michael to the baby Mark. He played a lot of games with us but they were not a lot of fun. He played war games. One was locking up the one that cried the loudest, as he/she became a prisoner POW in isolation for crying. Alternatively he would use an empty gun to scare everyone into being quiet. Nothing stops a toddler from crying like mortal fear. That was the (click boom) game where he would pull the trigger. Say Click and then with an earth-shattering yell yell BOOM very loud when it went off. He did that repeatedly. However it did not really it had No Ammo I understand now it was a dud. But then of course a five six seven and nine year old know just enough about guns from TV and movies to be petrified.
One day my mother says she came home earlier than usual and she discovered us all so shellshocked naked and huddled into a little corner of the apartment with someone locked in a small closet screaming their head off. Percy was standing guard. She wanted to let me out he insisted I stay in. At one point There was an actual tug of war she said. I do not remember it. The next day she took us all to the doctor for physicals. Which was her way of saying Oops I goofed - Perhaps?This day he caught up to us again. I remember I was sort of dazed and confused.I was sitting in the middle of the floor but I felt like I was on the ceiling looking down from my safe place with my angels. As I sat there I had an incredible sense of relief which replaced the fear and terror I was feeling. The idea when I think back on it that the situation not I was crazy was a big deal. That profound day changed my perception.
Not just that night but many times in my life when I was faced with maddening life and death struggles abuse and situations where I needed to know the situation was (crazy-making) so I could navigate safely through or around it. An angel of sorts would present an out, an alternative to losing my life or my mind. This would be my safe place for most of my life. My thirdeye, a way of viewing the world gifted to me that afternoon as I sat with her my angel.
Everybody was screaming. My mother was yelling through the door. I watched my eldest sister she was all of 7 years old standing on a chair in front of the stove boiling water she had a box of lye. While Phinie passed the pots of Hot Burning Liquid stuff that would stop him from trying to get into the apartment. Ma held it over the window above the door overlooking the hallway while Percy tried to force his way in. Michael my 9 year old brother cut his arm and was bleeding pretty badly. He was hurt while trying to get out the back window to let Percy in. He put his fist right through the glass pane. See he wanted to be with Percy. So this is what CHAOS feels like a clash of wills conflict.
