The assholes made a big deal of "no gifts" please, and "we don't give gifts at Christmas," and "Christmas is for children."
Of course now its clear. They had no money to spend on gifts. Any money they did get their hands on was for sustaining themselves. They wanted no stuff, because they had to move quickly and lightly once their scam was over. Remember, it was them and the dogs in their stolen Mercedes, plus a few pairs of bermuda shorts and Costco Hawaiian shirts.
But me being me, and loving Christmas, and loving surprises of even the most humble sort, bought them three tiny, precious, thoughtful gifts. Monogramed linen handkerchiefs. How luxurious was that -- linen handkerchiefs, hand monogramed by local nuns. I carefully supervised the initials of their last names: M for Dud, M for Tommy and E for Uncle Ron.
They were dismayed when I handed my little wrapped packages around the table. They opened them and were speechless with...blank looks. Most people are thrilled for a personalized, thoughtful gift of luxurious proportions, no matter how inexpensive. But they were curiously cold, turning over these gems.
It was as if I had received a handkerchief monogramed with an S. I now understand it was because those weren't their initials because those weren't their last names. So yes, meaningless.
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Christmas Shrimp
The assholes' idea of a Christmas eve celebration was a huge bowl of pre cooked Costco shrimp. Of course, they started out inviting us with the promise of a classic, seven fish Christmas eve dinner. Ooh, I thought, this would be good.
But it quickly turned into an enormous bowl of pre cooked Costco shrimp. Their idea of heaven. All you could eat. Shrimp. But how much shrimp can you eat? Five or six, maybe.
Eva was living with them as Bob had only been dead about 6 weeks and she was in no shape to be alone. Everyone complimented the assholes on their generosity, for how they took Eva in and helped her with every little thing.
"We promised Bob we would take care of her," they replied. Oh, they were helping her all right. They were helping themselves to her bank account, her debit card, her dead husband's credit card.
The mountain of shrimp? Courtesy of Eva's dead husband. The Nikon camera Tommy bought for my daughter? Same. "Don't tell Dud about it," Tommy said when he delivered the camera, standing outside my door, not wanting to come in. Now I understand. Tommy didn't have any affect about the camera, it was just something he had promised and for some reason, felt compelled to deliver. He had no interest in placing it in my daughter's hands, seeing her reaction, receiving her thanks.
Dud would have had a fit knowing Tommy was spending their precious stolen resources on someone other than themselves.
But it quickly turned into an enormous bowl of pre cooked Costco shrimp. Their idea of heaven. All you could eat. Shrimp. But how much shrimp can you eat? Five or six, maybe.
Eva was living with them as Bob had only been dead about 6 weeks and she was in no shape to be alone. Everyone complimented the assholes on their generosity, for how they took Eva in and helped her with every little thing.
"We promised Bob we would take care of her," they replied. Oh, they were helping her all right. They were helping themselves to her bank account, her debit card, her dead husband's credit card.
The mountain of shrimp? Courtesy of Eva's dead husband. The Nikon camera Tommy bought for my daughter? Same. "Don't tell Dud about it," Tommy said when he delivered the camera, standing outside my door, not wanting to come in. Now I understand. Tommy didn't have any affect about the camera, it was just something he had promised and for some reason, felt compelled to deliver. He had no interest in placing it in my daughter's hands, seeing her reaction, receiving her thanks.
Dud would have had a fit knowing Tommy was spending their precious stolen resources on someone other than themselves.
Friday, December 6, 2013
I know...
...that this is confusing. It is for me too.
I've been messy, just getting it all out there. I haven't offered a coherent narrative yet. All I've been able to do is offer bursts of rage, regret, lies, sadness, bitterness, loss, wonderment, shock, dismay.
Soon, soon, I'll be able to tell the story. To start at the beginning and take you to the end.
I've been messy, just getting it all out there. I haven't offered a coherent narrative yet. All I've been able to do is offer bursts of rage, regret, lies, sadness, bitterness, loss, wonderment, shock, dismay.
Soon, soon, I'll be able to tell the story. To start at the beginning and take you to the end.
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Evil is as evil does
What the hell does that mean?
I discovered evil late in my life. Evil happened to other people or, it was a distant concept, both historical or geographical. I counted myself lucky to be far away from evil. I used to believe in the inherent goodness of man, and that things like genocides or wars or murders were isolated incidents of atoms gone bad.
After meeting the boys, I now believe in "the banality of evil." Now I am wallowing in it, I know that evil breathes alongside of me in every hour of the day. It is a dormant cancer that lies in wait in everyone's body, evil is waiting to erupt given the chance.
I used to trust people and now, I will keep my counsel, keep to myself.
I want to get out, away from it. Europe, pastry, handbags, beaches. Meditation, yoga, poetry, flowers. Prosseco, candles, dawn. But now that I have observed evil this close, there seems to be no exit. I smell evil all around me. Evil is pervasive. The ability of people to be evil astounds me, makes me breathless. Makes me quiver.
Why are we so fascinated by evil? And yes, we are. We love movies filled with evil -- evil characters, evil happenings. We sit in the comfort of our own lives and watch others misbehave on the movie, tv and computer screens, in books and in newspapers. And we love it. We read books about evil characters and doings. We can not believe it. Could someone really be so evil? And then we read some more.
How do people turn evil? Are they born evil? Do they become evil? Is it a turning of event or simple body chemistry that makes neurons clash in chaotic ways, removing all reason, compassion, intelligence and mashing them up to form evil.
Originally, I thought this story was about the boys' scamming Eva, stealing her inheritance. But yesterday I found out, something worse happened to Eva. She had been living with evil all her life and she never knew it. Discovering that you have lived for 28 years with a sociopathic husband, who you never really knew, who lied and scammed, who was a sexual addict, a liar in all things, a man without feelings. I can't believe Eva isn't just a puddle on the floor.
I found out it was the meeting of two evils that created a new, fresh evil, visited upon the innocent suspect Eva. It didn't happen to me, but just realizing it gives me the existential shakes. Eva's husband Bob meeting The Boys was a sprinkle encrusted bomb meeting a wrapped candy. A huge explosion of scammer scamming scammers.
Lesson learned: if something doesn't feel right, believe it. If something doesn't feel right, step away.
Every day now my phone rings and it is Eva for her hour of ranting. I settle down as she starts screaming into the phone, vomiting her hatred her fury her confusion her fear her powerlessness. Over the two men who ruined her life.
I discovered evil late in my life. Evil happened to other people or, it was a distant concept, both historical or geographical. I counted myself lucky to be far away from evil. I used to believe in the inherent goodness of man, and that things like genocides or wars or murders were isolated incidents of atoms gone bad.
After meeting the boys, I now believe in "the banality of evil." Now I am wallowing in it, I know that evil breathes alongside of me in every hour of the day. It is a dormant cancer that lies in wait in everyone's body, evil is waiting to erupt given the chance.
I used to trust people and now, I will keep my counsel, keep to myself.
I want to get out, away from it. Europe, pastry, handbags, beaches. Meditation, yoga, poetry, flowers. Prosseco, candles, dawn. But now that I have observed evil this close, there seems to be no exit. I smell evil all around me. Evil is pervasive. The ability of people to be evil astounds me, makes me breathless. Makes me quiver.
Why are we so fascinated by evil? And yes, we are. We love movies filled with evil -- evil characters, evil happenings. We sit in the comfort of our own lives and watch others misbehave on the movie, tv and computer screens, in books and in newspapers. And we love it. We read books about evil characters and doings. We can not believe it. Could someone really be so evil? And then we read some more.
How do people turn evil? Are they born evil? Do they become evil? Is it a turning of event or simple body chemistry that makes neurons clash in chaotic ways, removing all reason, compassion, intelligence and mashing them up to form evil.
Originally, I thought this story was about the boys' scamming Eva, stealing her inheritance. But yesterday I found out, something worse happened to Eva. She had been living with evil all her life and she never knew it. Discovering that you have lived for 28 years with a sociopathic husband, who you never really knew, who lied and scammed, who was a sexual addict, a liar in all things, a man without feelings. I can't believe Eva isn't just a puddle on the floor.
I found out it was the meeting of two evils that created a new, fresh evil, visited upon the innocent suspect Eva. It didn't happen to me, but just realizing it gives me the existential shakes. Eva's husband Bob meeting The Boys was a sprinkle encrusted bomb meeting a wrapped candy. A huge explosion of scammer scamming scammers.
Lesson learned: if something doesn't feel right, believe it. If something doesn't feel right, step away.
Every day now my phone rings and it is Eva for her hour of ranting. I settle down as she starts screaming into the phone, vomiting her hatred her fury her confusion her fear her powerlessness. Over the two men who ruined her life.
I don't say a word. She doesn't want me to say a word. When she first started calling, I tried to say things, to offer explanations, solace, solutions and then I learned she doesn't want my words. She just needs to vomit.
Yes, evil breathes alongside of me.
Yes, evil breathes alongside of me.
Thoughts on Evil
Evil comes into lives at different moments. Are there actually those blessed ones to have never had it cross their paths? Consider that and them, lucky.
Some discover evil as children when the wayward hands of relatives or ministers steal their childhood. Others, like me, later in life.
Once evil has entered your life there is a stain. It informs everything you do, every person you meet. It is exhausting to know of evil, because then you have to watch for it.
Some discover evil as children when the wayward hands of relatives or ministers steal their childhood. Others, like me, later in life.
Once evil has entered your life there is a stain. It informs everything you do, every person you meet. It is exhausting to know of evil, because then you have to watch for it.
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