On Christmas Eve we decided to not book another night in Fountain Hills. I have no idea how we got everything crammed into the car, we must be learning. We left not having our next hotel lined up, so we went to our main McDonald’s for some wifi and milk shakes. Two hours later we were checking in to our new home ready for some peace and to enjoy Christmas.
During our constant struggle to keep a roof over our heads we also had to deal with what I now call “Insanity”. This started with a family friend, Dumb-Shit, starting a rumor that was spun by King-Shit into something that actually affected how family treated me in different states. Dumb-Shit is my mother’s best friend and has known me my entire life. The King- Shit is my father’s brother, who at one time I was very close to. Thirty-six hours before we found ourselves calling my best friend from McDonald’s, we had no idea what was about to happen…
We walked down the hall to the room the three of us had been staying in for the last two months. There was a note on the door with my name on it. I thought the handwriting looked liked my grandmother’s, but I was not sure. We sat down talking about how things had started getting weird in the house. There were nine people in the house and for the past week it seemed like something was very off. It was like being in high school and we were being bullied and shunned. My husband was getting the brunt of it, but he had been keeping it to himself. I had noticed a difference with the treatment of our son. At the time I just thought it was a difference of opinion Looking back I cannot believe I did not see it sooner. However, this was my family. I had a trust that they would not sick a knife in my back and twist it until it hurt my son.
I could feel my heart start to pound as my eyes skimmed across the words that had been typed. ” It would be best if you left tomorrow. I am telling you today so you have time to pack some clothes.” Pack some clothes? What the hell is King-Shit talking about? I read it again, letting it soak in for a second before I looked at my husband. We have to be out tomorrow I told him as I handed him the now famous note….
The next 24 hours were a blur. Disbelief, shock, hurt , and a million other feelings ran through us like a a freight train running off the tracks. How could they do this to our son a week before Christmas, I thought as I tried to think what to pack. What do you put into a Saturn to survive with a 12 year old in the winter. Scottsdale still gets cold at night. What paper work did we need? What did we own that we could sell for fast money? We had no bank accounts, no credit and our poor little Saturn had seen better days.
Normal people would be thinking what the hell did you do to get kicked out with your son with less than a days notice….” You being here is causing Gram and Gramp stress” I understood that to a point. However, what about the stress of seeing us running around asking what we did, could we stay until the end of the week, could our son stay to finish out the week of school…I think that was little stressful.
It was 6 pm and we were trying to get the last of our things to our car having no idea where we were going, when I hear my name called. I look up and there is King Shit’s wife with my grandmother who is crying saying that King-Shit had said we had a place for the night. One of many lies he would tell my grandmother in the upcoming weeks. They ask us to stay until the day after Christmas. We had no where to go, so we went back inside. What I will never understand is how we all sat at that same table and ate supper as if the last 24 hours had not happened. That is some insanity.
Later that night I received an email from King-Shit. It was becoming apparent that he only spoke with his fingers and a keyboard. Not sure what happen to his balls that I had assumed he was born with. Maybe he lost them. The email floored me and spun my adrenaline into a tornado that is still spinning….A few hours later we were at our now favorite McDonald’s….