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Monday, September 26, 2011

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 7 Now it begins

The phone calls continued on a daily basis but only when I was completely alone. It goes on for two weeks. Sometimes there is about five minutes of complete silence before someone either hanging up, yelling the word “Faggot,” or a combination of the two.


I never know who it is. It was also during my having mono, that I don’t get to see Steven at all. He would call and tell me that he rode his bike past the house, paused to look up at my window and ride on. Was this Romantic or was he the stalker? Steven was the only one who knew I was home alone or at least checked to see if I was. 

Could it have been him? I now have my doubts about this theory and after a week into the calls I blamed him over the phone. I would learn this early as an interrogation technique. It seldom worked and caused terrible fights. Steven was angry and blamed my fever for the theory.


Just as I was getting over my mono, Laura’s Mother decided we were going on a vacation. The family owned a house on Schroon Lake and we were going to join Marks family for a long week in the cabin.

Laura’s Father announced that he had work and that it was “insanity” for him to go with us. Laura’s Mother would sigh and stare at the ceiling. “You never want to go anywhere, “she said to him over dinner one night, breaking the twenty minutes of silence that precluded this accusation. 


His response was to get red in the face and come up with some lame excuse then get angry and bang his hand on the table. Tonight he cursed Gloria Steinem for “helping women achieve freedom.”

I was now convinced more than ever that there was a secret in this house.

Last winter, a bank robbery had happened near the town that bordered Schroon Lake. The getaway truck was being chased and then driven onto the ice and sunk. The robber driving the van was never found and legend formed around his body being trapped at the bottom of the lake.

I spent the summer in a weakened state. I was either too tired to make it to the floating dock or too scared that he had become a “feet grabbing monster,” who was always just slightly below me, arms outstretched. I would crawl out of the water on onto the beach. My theory was that if I could feel the sand beneath me, I wouldn’t step on a decaying body that would get angry and seek revenge.

One thing that the “kids” thought was fun to do at Schroon Lake involved swamping the canoes of followers from the “Word of Life Bible Institute.”

This was believed to be a religious cult that had a compound on the lake. The followers would hang onto their boats as we passed yelling the word “freaks.” This was an amazing vacation and could only be topped by Laura’s Father when we got back. 

Laura’s Father had called the group home in Saratoga and got me another invitation to come live there.

to be continued…….


Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.



Monday, September 19, 2011

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 6 Now it begins

Steven and I began a summer fling right then and there. I liked him and even though he couldn’t do what his Mother had asked him to do. 

I walked out of the basement and she was back in the kitchen getting a snack. She paused, turned around and not only gave me a sneer that told me exactly where I stand on her list but even shook her head at me in disgust.

Steven walked me home. Well he was on his bike riding as slow as possible while I walked. My throat was now starting to really hurt me and swallowing was painful. Standing at the end of the driveway, we said our goodbyes and vowed to meet again tomorrow.

Walking into the house I had a feeling of dread, especially when I had to walk past Laura’s dad’s car to do it. Climbing the stairs I could tell that the weather in the house was stormy. Laura sat in the sun room with her legs on the couch. She was watching some “Creature Feature” movie. On the screen, a beach party is invaded by monsters wearing what I can only guess to be bathmats. “Hi,” Laura said without looking up.

Somewhere in the back of the house I could hear Laura’s Mother crying and her Father speaking in hushed tones. I sat on the couch and my eyes felt heavy. “How was your date?” Laura asked as the monsters on television began to smother a bikini clad beach goer. 

“Good,” I said my eyes slowly closing. I pushed myself forward and slid to the front of the couch. “I am wiped out; I need to go to bed.” With that said I rose to standing and headed upstairs. The next day I was taken to the doctor and diagnosed with mono. He told me to stay in bed and sleep for about ten days.

“Oh my,” said Laura’s Mother. She was worried that she would have to stay with me. I assured her I was old enough to sleep alone and she could leave the house if she wanted. I got home and went right to bed.

Hours later the phone rang and rang and pulled me out of a deep sleep. It just kept ringing which told me that Laura’s Mother was not at home. I lay back down and drifted off. Again the phone started ringing. At this point I imagined that it had to be important by the time I got out of bed it had rung thirty times.

The phone was at the bottom of the stairs in the kitchen. I got there and lifted it from its cradle only to be greeted by complete silence. “Hello,” I said. There was nothing but silence on the other end and a sharp click as they hung up.

I climbed back into bed and the phone began to ring again. I leaned up on my elbows and began counting. At twenty five rings I climbed back out of bed and made it to the kitchen. I grabbed the receiver and said “Hello.” For a long time no one spoke but I could hear someone on the line. Then a voice said “Home alone faggot?” and hung up.

To be continued………

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

Monday, September 12, 2011

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 5 Now it begins

“Where do you think you are going and who the hell is this?” I believe that this is Steven’s mom now walking towards us from the kitchen with her hands on her hips. She is wearing a dirty house dress, stands about 5’1 and weighs about 350 pounds. She has her hair pulled up under a scarf and I see pink rollers peeking out at me.


She is looking me up and down. “This is Geoff,” he says motioning towards me. “Geoff, this is my Mom.” I put out my hand and she looks like I am offering her a piece of shit. She sniffs in the air and raises her chin. Her head then snaps is Steven’s direction, she narrows her eyes and points a finger at him. “No funny business in the basement.” With that said she spins on her heel and puts her head back into the fridge.


The door to the basement is located near the kitchen and Steven yanks it open. We head into the basement and I am hit with a strong musty smell. Steven hits a light switch on our way down the stairs and the basement is bathed in yellow lighting.

The basement looks like someone had the best intentions of turning it into a “rumpus room” but stopped after a few couches and installing the bar. It now looks like a science project gone bad. There is stuff everywhere. It looks as if someone was getting ready to haul things to a rummage sale and got as far as the bottom of the stairs and gave up.


Steven’s Mom yells down the stairs “I am still in the kitchen and I mean it, no funny business.” I look at Steven and he shakes his head. “She walked into my bedroom when I had a friend over and caught us in the moment.” “She hasn’t recovered yet.” Steven then goes on to tell me how his Mom took him to see a shrink and the shrink told her that Homosexuality is a mental disorder. Now she follows his every move.


There is an old train set attached to a piece of plywood in the middle of this mess. Steven goes over and turns the power on. The train comes to life and begins to speed around the track. We spend about an hour playing with the train set and Steven offers me something to drink. There is a mini fridge stuffed with soda. I open a ginger ale and we head to the couch.


Steven tells me about his life and how hard it is to grow up with a brother with special needs. Steven’s father left a long time ago; his mother gained 200 additional pounds since then and is raising both boys on a fixed income.


After another soda Steven stands up and walks over to a sink that stands next to the washing machine and begins to pee into it. He looks back over at me and smiles. I am not sure where he is heading with all of this but I am starting to feel a little uncomfortable. I look away and stare at the wall.


Steven returns to the couch and lets his leg open wide enough to touch my leg. I don’t move and am not sure what is about to happen. I am very aware that his Mother is right at the top of the stairs. My second ginger ale has pushed my bladder to full. “Can I use your bathroom?” I ask Steven. He motions to the sink. I really do not want to use the sink for the bathroom but I am about to hit that crucial moment in time.

I rise walk over to the sink and begin to pee. I feel a presence behind me and Steven’s hands grab my waist and slide to the front of my hips. “Here, let me help you,” he whispers.

To be continued…………

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

Monday, September 5, 2011

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 4 Now it begins

Walking in the house Steven screams out “I’m home,” to no one that I can see. “Let’s go to my room,” Steven immediately says facing me and looking into my eyes. 

I follow him down the hallway of modest middle income family house. So many homes all looked the same when I was growing up that a glance as I walk past the bedrooms tells me all I need to know. 


My parents kept a strict middle class house. One main rule was that the living room was only to be used for holidays, well really only Christmas. Every now and then my sister would sit in the living room and be allowed to listen to her records on the stereo. The stereo took up one whole wall. It was a big piece of furniture that opened by lifting the large wooden top. It took two hands and you had to get your back into it. The whole stereo reminded me of a coffin. 


My sister would have Linda Rondstadt and The Beach Boys albums open in front of her while she leaned on her elbows. The album with Lind Rondstant showed Linda looking into a mirror. We stared at that picture for hours, wondering how they got that shot. The sound that came out of that stereo was one of a kind. It had sort of a thump, wheeze and hum to it as the records dropped from an arm that held them aloft.


Steven leads me into his bedroom. It is a very small room that has bunk beds. “I like the bottom bunk” he said with a smile. Even back then I didn’t think we were talking about the beds. “My brother sleeps on the top.” I look around the room and noticed that there are no pictures on the walls or on the dressers. The room basically has no life, just the bunk bed, two dressers and a Yankee’s pennant draped over a chair. “My Mom likes a clean room,” he says as I look around.


It is very clear to me that this was a middle class home but a lower middle class home. In those days I was often reminded by my friends that I lived in an upper middle class home, even though most of my friends lived in an upper middle class home. I had so many friends that came from so many different economic backgrounds. I never considered myself upper middle class or rich. I became rich once I got to live with so many different people and experience their lives. There were so many restrictions in the home I came from, who cared how much money was in it?


“My brother is….” Steven looked around and back at me “Retarded.” “He was born that way.” “He wears a helmet so he won’t hurt his head when he falls.” “This is our room and we share it.” “We have to put everything away, so he won’t get hurt in here.” Steven blurted out all this information. I was sure that this wasn’t the first time that he had done this.


“Come on let’s go to the basement,” he grabs my hand and pulls me out of the bedroom. We head back down the hallway and pass the kitchen. As we pass I see a large woman standing in front of the fridge, one hand on her hip, her head deep inside.


As we pass, I see her come to life, lift her head and yell “Hold on there Mister!”

To be continued…..

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

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