Saturday mourning
The walk back to my parents house was like walking through a mental tornado, the bitter cold grayness of that morning reflected the condition of my spirit perfectly, every street, house, lampost, car that I saw would yell out to me that Roberta would not be seeing these things or anything again. Guilt, anger, & shame were swirling through my brain, man did I hate being alive.
Tony & Chris (background)
Two of my closest friends at the time were brothers a year apart in age and worlds apart in personality, they were the sons of a Mafia bookmaker and his psychologically challenged ex wife, Tony (Jr.) and Chris lived with their dad who drove a new Cadillac, always had wads of money in his pocket and sent his kids to private schools. Tony was promptly thrown out of his school as a freshman and I met him at the public high school I attended, we hit it off because we shared a disdain for authority, an offbeat sense of humor, and a general cynicism about almost everything.
Chris was a studious, more serious type who pulled straight A's in school, played piano and would fill in for his dad taking bets on the phone from his father's customers when the old man was out carousing, he had been filling in since about age 12. I would sit at their dining room table in awe as Chris fielded three telephones giving odds on sports, handicapping the horses and generally sounding like a seasoned pro 20 or 30 years older than he actually was, most (if not all) of the guys on the other end of the phone had no clue they were speaking to a kid, Chris looked like a cherub, an innocent baby face but his voice was deep and authoritive, his father was proud as a peacock of Chris's ability at running the book on the phones and keeping meticulous records of every transaction.
As Tony and I would rail on everything most people had a respect for (God, country, school, authority figures) Chris would quietly take it all in, slowly coming around to our (misguided) way of thinking. Before long he was along with us "borrowing" cars, joyriding in some unsuspecting person's vehicle until the gas tank was empty. In those days many people left a key in the ignition and many of the GM products had an ignition that did not even require a key if it was in the "off" and not "lock" position, easy pickings.
As Chris began to join us in our consumption of booze, weed, pills and such he started becoming more and more reckless, skipping school to break in houses, getting caught shoplifting and eventually getting suspended from school, this flipped the old man out as he couldn't believe his pride and joy would act like a "low life dirt bag" who needed spare change to exist, "Chris, you need money? Ask me you dumb a@@, I know Tony is going to be a loser but I never thought you could be so stupid."
Tony (and me as well) might be considered a "stupid loser" but at least we never got caught, yes there were a few close calls but no record (yet) with the cops or court. Chris seemed to be in trouble every week and was on his way to a juvinile detention stint. His sentence, 2 years.
Right about this time their sister found herself pregnant (17 years old) and the old man's house got raided by Federal agents who busted him for rackateering, bookmaking, etc. It was a Federal issue as money was crossing state lines as well as other little enterprises Tony Sr. was involved in. With their father out of circulation Tony and Cindy moved in with their "mad as a hatter" mother who was a very nervous type of person who's personality was all over the charts and her mood swings were constant. With Tony Sr. preoccupied his ex decided to move to Miami afraid of what he might do to Cindy's boyfriend "the Irish schmuck" as the old man affectionly called him. So Tony Jr. his mother, sister and boyfriend headed south to escape the issues that were surrounding them.
I started receiving letters from Chris who was in a facility about 30 or 40 miles outside the city, he had formulated a plan to escape and needed my help in pulling it off, a sense of fear morphed into a sense of adventure and I decided to go for it. Chris was able to bypass (somehow) the censors who checked all the mail going in and out of the facility, he sent me his plan with time, date & exact location of where we had to be to pull this off, he instructed me to just send him a "get well soon" card if I agreed to the plan and was able to be there at the appointed time (1 A.M.). I was able to enlist one of my older friends who had his own car and 1 other guy who knew Tony and Chris well. Chris had apparently been observing all the comings and goings of the old security officer who combed the grounds at night and felt confident his plan would go perfectly.
We drove up there and everything was exactly as described, we parked the car about a 1/4 mile away and took the rope to the appointed place at the appointed time, we tossed one end over the brick wall (about 15' tall) and tied off the other end to a tree, seconds later we saw the rope tighten and could here soft grunts from the other side as Chris made his way up, over & out. He calmly untied the rope from the tree bunched it up and we ran like hell off the grounds. Mission accomplished.
After a few days of sleeping in friends basements and garages (unknown to parents) we were able to put enough money together to get Chris a plane ticket to Miami, in those days all you needed was the price of a ticket, no ID, no nothing, just the cash sir.
We contacted his brother and Chris was off to start anew in Florida.
Funeral
Upon arriving home that ugly Saturday morning I went straight to my room passing by my mother who I could see had been crying for hours, no mention of the fact that I had stayed out all night just an empathetic look and a soft "I am so sorry" as I shuffled up the stairs to seal myself off from everyone, anything and everything. I think I stayed there almost 24 hours straight, I had no appetite and I was lower than I had ever remembered being, I was worn out, exhausted, too tired to even hate, miserable does not begin to describe the feeling.
I did not call Roberta's family nor did I visit their house, the viewing was to be that following Tuesday and burial Wednesday, I just wanted to get the hell away from everything as fast as I could but resigned myself to going to the wake on Tuesday. The day before the wake I called my friends (Tony & Chris) in Miami telling them what had happened and they invited me south to get away from it all, they were both working at a gas station, just bought a car and were loving life in Miami, they told me "just get a ticket here and we will take care of you, you got Chris out and we will never forget it, we owe you one paison."
The wake was intense, seeing her family, seeing her (beautiful as ever) laying there was surreal, her mom rushed to me saying she did not think I would show up, thanking me as she took my hand to view Roberta close up.
There were at least a hundred people so it was easy to slip away and find someone to get drunk with, thankfully I will be out of here tomorrow, Florida here I come.
My parents actually said very little about my plans to head south, I had been pretty much out of their control for a couple years and the idea of my quitting school at 17 disturbed but didn't surprise them, I knew if I did not get away I would kill somebody or myself or both. They knew it too.
A taste of Florida
I arrived in Miami on one of those perfect Florida in February days, clear, sunny & warm, it was in huge contrast to the cold, gray gloominess of a New York winter and a severely depressed state of mind. As I walked through the airport there were pamphlets strewn about, "The end is coming!" and "The Lord is returning!" shouted the words in bold type, good for Him I thought but started reading anyway as I had a few minutes to wait for my luggage. I was fascinated by the predictions of doom and catastrophy, perfect. It actually gave me pleasure to contemplate worldwide destruction, let all those comfortable s.o.b.'s get a taste of pain, let's see them lose everything they hold dear, bring it on!
My stint in Miami was doomed to failure as my insanity resonated all too well with Tony and Chris, we partied constantly and their mother was recognizably nervous with this Rochester italiano staying there, maybe even telling her ex husband where they were, like he couldn't find out on his own. She had enough of me but the brothers were adament that I stay, it was getting ugly, too much stress, time to return after only a few weeks. I could not get the doom and gloom pamphlet out of my mind, I really wanted it to happen, it gave me some distorted sense of peace to think about everything crashing down. I guess misery truly loves company.
Back in Rochester
Arriving back in New York the weather greeted me just like when I waved goodbye 3 weeks earlier, it was gray and cold with snow on the ground, a brisk cold wind slapped my face as I got off the plane and I think I lost my tan right then and there.
I was in a profound funk about being back in this depressing place and went out that evening looking for friends to get high with, easy enough. I ended up at the same guys house where I found out about Roberta a month earlier where we were smoking weed and drinking cheap wine. One of the hard core druggies stopped by and offered us some LSD that were in these tiny little tabs, "White Microdot" he called it and advised us to split them in half, these tiny things? Give me 3 or 4, thankfully he didn't as within 15 minutes my friend Scott and I looked at each other knowing this was going to be quite a "trip." Man, this is coming on too quick, the walls are melting like candles in a kiln, diamond shaped patterns intersecting everywhere, talking I could hear my voice like it was detached from me, coming from the other side of the room. Bummer, my first bad trip and we were only a half hour into it. My perception of time was the first thing to go, it actually seemed longer than my entire life had been up to that point.
Thoughts and hallucinations were rapid and intense, the world WAS ENDING! Just like the pamphlets predicted but I just happened to be tripping through it, BUT IT WAS REALLY HAPPENING! And then I died, or I thought I did. The world as I knew it was over, then I felt this warm glow of an intense love surrounding me when I heard a familiar voice, "Joe, Joe wake up, look here." It was Roberta. She was beautiful. I was ecstatic, thank you God, thank you God, thank you God! She smiled at me and told me that I actually had just begun what I needed to complete, there were things I needed to know and experience but in a little while we would be together again. Tears of joy were flowing.
I picked myself off the floor and saw a room full of familiar faces but I did not know at first who it was, they look very familiar BUT WHO ARE THEY? Standing and staring at them things started coming back, yeah that's Greg, Scott, Randy & Jerry, ok we are all dead here together............ just then Randy jumped up and grabbing his head he started saying, "I can't think, I can't think," the others were staring at him blankly when I burst out laughing, "of course you can't think, we are all dead, this isn't real!" I started picking up record albums and flinging them around the room, knocking stuff over, breaking a window while laughing like some insane person in a cheap Hollywood horror flick. Greg (his apartment) was totally freaking out "I have to live here, what are you doing?" I told him it was all over, you don't live here anymore, you're dead man. Jerry then started acting like he could not breath, holding his chest and panting he said he had swallowed a lit candle and his lungs were coated with wax, we were all certifiably insane, LSD psychosis.
That feeling of not really knowing if I was really dead or alive actually lasted a few days, I did not talk much but at least I could function, I hate this life.
About a week after this "welcome back home" night of pure insanity, I woke up at my parents house alone and hopeless, for the first time in years I prayed to God, one of those "if you really exist" kind of prayers, "show me a sign, give me something to go on" well there were no burning bushes or lightning or voices from above but I did get a strong desire to go in the basement and look through an old box that contained some of the artwork I had done over the years, in particular I was looking for a charcoal sketch I had done of Roberta a few years back. When I opened the box I saw my old Catholic bible on top laying next to an old buck knife I had found in Canada on one of our vacations, hmmmm knife, bible....... do you suppose this is my sign? Am I to kill myself to be with Roberta? Do I take my life so I can share (after) life with her in another realm?
Obviously I did not take the "plunge" with the buck knife, I thought about it, seriously thought about it but instead I picked up the bible and took it up to my room and began to read it, I don't remember the Chapters and verses but a relative calm came over me, an unexplainable sense of peace or a taste of it anyway. I became consumed with reading it, it seemed so mystical and I knew there was deep knowledge contained in it, if only I could unscramble the true meanings, even with little to no understanding of what I was reading it felt better just to read and meditate.
I was called to the phone from my room where I was reading the bible (my folks thought I had tipped into lala land) and my mother said some girl was on the phone who wanted to speak to me, I was really surprised when Ramona asked how I was doing and gave me her condolances in regard to my loss, I asked her "how do you know about this?" She said one of her friends had known Roberta and had told her about us, I had been in a couple of classes with Ramona and although she was very attractive I rarely spoke to her and she admitted she thought I was arrogant and a trouble maker, how perceptive of her. Anyway she told me that she was attending Bible Studies with these really cool people who could make the bible come alive in meaning (internal fireworks going off in my head, prayer being answered?). I must of been silent a second too long when she asked, "Joe, you still there?" Uh yeah, yeah I am here, when is the next Bible Study? We made arrangements to meet next Wednesday.
Part 3 My Introduction to The 7th Day Adventists (very soon)
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Topic: What got me here, Part 2 (Read 10484 times)