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Monday, October 31, 2011

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 12 Now it begins

The kids arrive at home in the afternoon and I get reintroduced to every single one of them. It is a swirl of information and I am looking for ways to remember who I meet.

Tall and lanky with large buck teeth, that would be Sharon. Little round and fat with dirty blonde hair, that’s Becky. Round glasses and a large bulb like head, that’s Nick. I don’t have a memory connection at that moment so I am just looking at them grasping for anything and repeating their names. They look back at me like I’m crazy and they have very little time for me. It is after school time and more important, time for General Hospital.

The kids literally run to their rooms drop off their books and come running back down stairs into the kitchen. I am standing in the hallway watching all this chaos as cabinet doors get yanked open and the fridge door gets swung against the wall. There are hands reaching everywhere for any food they can get their hands on.

Becky and Sharon seem really close to each other and announce to me that “they are sisters.” Nick looks at me pushing his glasses back up his nose with one finger. “They are not technically sisters; they just hang out all the time.” “Dork,” says Sharon into Nick’s ear as she passes. I notice that she says it loud enough for only us to hear. “You’re not allowed to talk to people like that in this house Sharon” Nick cries. Becky walks by with a cereal bowl in her hand and in the hand that carries her orange juice she flips Nick the finger. “Hey, no gestures either,” cries Nick backing into the wall.

As I follow them into the living room, the kids seem to all have “their spots” and God forbid if you sit in one of them, Skyler tells me. The great shushing begins and everyone is told to “shut the fuck up.” Somewhere in another room a counselor yells out “Hey, we don’t talk like that.”

I have never spent any time watching a soap opera but these kids are wrapped up in it. The television is turned on and the opening credits roll. I am transported to Port Charles and every character that arrives on the screen gets and introduction to me by the kids. “She’s old, rich and white her name is Lila and she’s married to an old guy named Edward.” “That one there is heather and she’s crazy.” “That ugly one with frizzy hair is Luke. I never understand what Laura see’s in him.”

 At the end of an hour I understand that Heather is disguising herself as a nurse and escaping from a mental institution. Diana Taylor is murdered and the name “Ann” is mysteriously written in her blood. The end credits roll and the energy in the room is electric.

Diane and Mark walk into the room. “Ok everyone,” Diane says “off to your room for homework.” Grumbling the kids get off of “their spots” in the room and head upstairs. Diane also announces while we pass that there will be two new kids named “Dennis and Mike” joining the house tonight. Also we are reminded by Mark to “pack light” for our trip into the country for the weekend. I can hear doors closing and then I can hear the music of Jackson Browne played at full volume behind someones closed door.

Mark walks over to me and puts one arm around my shoulder. I take this gesture from him to signal “Trust me; I’m like a Big brother.” It actually makes me more “guarded” and I start to think that everyone I meet is up to something.

“Why don’t you show me your room and we’ll talk” Mark says gesturing to the stairs.

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, October 24, 2011

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 11 Now it begins

Life at the group home in Saratoga starts out just like life at the runaway shelter. They don’t know what to do with me, so I get the day off while the kids get sent to school. 

It is the first days of the new school year. Later they will be taking me to meet an advisor who can place me. I spend the day talking to my social worker in her office who gives me several “psychological tests” to see where I am at in my life. I also get the run down on how the group home runs and what they expect from me.

All day long counselors show up to work their shift at the home. I am introduced to so many people that their names all merge in my head. The staff consists of about 20 different people and has many revolving shifts. 

There is at the minimum, at least 5 people working at any given time but on the overnight shift there is only one person, Charice. She has been working at the group home for about 5 years by the time I get there. I am told that she loves the overnight because there is no noise. 

According to my social worker “Charice has an amazing record and puts up with no nonsense on her shift.” “She also has a hotline to the police department,” my social worker adds under her breath.

Now that I am alone, I get a chance to check out the house. I now can confirm that it is as enormous on the inside as it appears on the outside. There are several bedrooms, bathrooms, 2 dining rooms, a living room, 2 family rooms and several rooms converted into offices. 

Parked in the garage, the home owns two vans and several cars. Someone on staff informs me that these cars are used to shuttle the kids where they need to go.

My social worker sits me down later in the day to finish the list of house rules that she feels have been missed. I am told that once a week the staff of the house have their weekly meetings to discuss what’s been going on. I am sternly warned told that none of us kids are allowed to disturb them during their meetings, or there will be consequences. 

The staff has created a demerit system, you gain and lose your freedom all based on your behavior. All week long they have mandatory outings for everyone in the house. They find that this stops fights and has everyone working as a unit. 

Every week there is a staff member whose job it is to sit at the house with whatever kid has lost their freedom that week. They give this shift on the “draw a straw” system. They hope that it won’t be a shift of the week but I’m told that is a busy job. Someone is always in trouble.

The first outing that I will be attending will be this weekend. They are going to take us for a day trip into the country. All the kids will be going and Dave will be in charge. 

Dave is 25 years old, long and lanky with dark feathered hair, he shakes my hand when he meets me. Looking out the window of the office is about the amount of going into the “country” that I want to see. 

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, October 17, 2011

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 10 Now it begins.

I sleep very well for my first night but I am up the minute I hear anyone stirring in the hallway. The clock on the nightstand tells me that its six o’clock in the morning. I glance at it as I slide out of bed.

I put on the same clothes that I had the night before because I haven’t had any time to unpack. I find them without turning on the lights, thrown on the floor near one of the dressers. I pull them on and step into the hallway.


It is really quiet upstairs but I can hear voices coming from the main floor.

Standing at the top of the stairs, I grab the banister and head downstairs. The voices get louder. Once I reach the main corridor I can see a light coming from the dining room. As I get closer I can see people sitting around the dining table as well.

I hover outside in the hallway and take a head count. There are about 12 kids talking over one another to be heard. The conversation is a mix of nothing. A lot of “who did what to whom and what whom did to who.”It is really early and already there is chaos.

Looking up, one of the girls see’s me nudges the girl sitting next to her. Suddenly, the room becomes a set of falling dominoes, falling into silence. One by one each of the kids stops talking and turns their head in my direction.

There is counselor is in the room who realizes that the kids have stopped talking and that they are all looking into the hallway. She rises from her chair, pokes her head around the corner and see’s me.

Walking into the hallway, she extends her hand. “Hi I’m Charice,” she says gently taking my elbow with one hand and motions for me to join them in the dining room with the other.

Every child watch’s me walk into the room. “Grab a bowl off the buffet table and get some cereal,” she tells me pushing me in the direction of the buffet. Clarice on the other hand returns to her set and back to her coffee. I’m sure that this is a weekly routine for her. #1- On list…….throw new child to wolves…..check.

I heap a giant ladle of cheerios into my bowl and then pour milk over them. Looking around I spot a container of spoons and reach for them. Still, it is completely silent and I can feel all the eyes on the back of my head. Charice tries to break the silence by yelling across the room to me.

“Where are you from?” Not turning to look at her, I respond “Guilderland.” I might have well said Mars, because “Guilderland,” gets the same reaction. None of the kids made a sound.

I slowly turn and walk back to my audience and find an open spot at the table. The kids still stare at me slack jaw. Suddenly one the girl turns to the girl next to her and says “See I told you he was gay.”

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, October 10, 2011

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 9 Now it begins


The house is enormous. I am standing in the back entryway that is nothing more than an enclosed porch. It serves as a check in spot. “Security” takes my bags so they can go through them in search of drugs.

“My name is Diane and I am your social worker,” says the woman who came to meet me in the driveway. She places her hand into the air between us and smiles, the corner of her eyes crinkle up. I stare back at her hand, not really in the mood to shake it and I let my silence become uncomfortable.


“Anyway,” she says her hand still in the air. She looks at me and looks at her hand. It becomes quickly clear that this was not a gesture of kindness this was a test and I am failing miserably. “Security" puts his hand on my back and shoves me forward. I take her hand. “Good,” she says gently shaking my hand and walking me into the main part of the house.


“We like to have no problems out here in Saratoga” Diane says stopping in the middle of the hallway. Once we continue walking, I am given a brief tour of the downstairs area. She takes me through the kitchen, dining room, television room and points out various staff offices. As we walk she prattles off the house rules. Finally she stops directly in front of a floor to ceiling painted sign that the rules are written on, where she points out some of her favorites. I am told that I will be given a copy of them as well.


I notice that the house seems very quiet and I don’t see anyone around. Diane notices me looking and mentions that “Everyone is in their rooms.” The tour continues and I am taken to the top of the stairs where there are five doors in the immediate hallway. She opens one of the nearest doors and I am shown one of the bedrooms. "This is to become my room for an indefinite amount of time," Diane says not really looking at me. “Through your room is the entrance to Danny’s room,” says Diane as we enter. “He has lived here the longest of anyone in the house and has to walk through here to get to his room.” She turns and looks at me smiling with just her eyes.


My room is huge with two queen size beds separated by a dresser, two desks and additional dressers on each side of the room. Two large windows on the far side of the room look out onto the expansive lawn. Everything seems to be designed to be matching “two’s” of everything. I guess that way no one feels any preferential treatment and a lot of fights are probably headed off this way.


“I will let you get settled and then we will talk” Diane says walking to the bedroom door. She pauses, turns around and claps her hands together. "Structure is the key," she says. "Security" is standing very close to her this whole time and he follows her out the door. As the door closes and I am left alone, I lay down on the bed and stare at the ceiling.


Twenty minutes later the door opens and in walks a Cowboy. He is in his early teens and dressed head to toe, as a Cowboy. Cowboy hat, vest, boots and chaps, Looking closely at his face as he passes I notice the prepubescent handlebar mustache. “Hi I’m Geoff,” I say siting up. He barley looks in my direction as he walks through my room. He then opens a door and disappears. I assume that this is Danny.


Diane gives me about an hour before she comes and finds me, she is no longer shadowed by Security. “Hungry?” she asks softening her demeanor. “I am,” I tell her as I follow her down the stairs.

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, October 3, 2011

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 8 Now it begins

I spent another couple of weeks with Laura’s family before I was packed to go to Saratoga. I attended more “Kids are Goats, Children are People” seminar’s in Laura’s Basement.  

I never got any closer to getting to “the root of my problem” by talking though. My flight instinct would take hold when they would look at me and then they would realize that I’ve got two scoops of “flee” in me as well. It became not worth the effort to talk to me and I was allowed to just sit in the circle. Laura’s Father went on an extended business trip during this time and her Mother just wandered around touching family photographs and sighing.
 
Steven and I said our final goodbyes on the road in front of Laura’s house. We vowed that someday we would meet again and he made a t-shirt for me, wrapped it in tissue paper and tied with a bow. The shirt was yellow with the words “Fuck you,” printed on it. We hugged and he rode away, this time he didn't look back.


I walked back into Laura’s house and twenty minutes later a car was waiting for me. Laura's Mother hugged me goodbye and I was taken to Saratoga.
The drive to Saratoga took about an hour and a half. I really didn’t pay that much attention but when I sat up to look out the window, I was told “Were here!” by the driver. My summer had swirled away.

From the road, I could see that it was clearly one of the biggest house’s in Saratoga, or anywhere. However, it was located on a desolate street in the middle of the woods. I really should have paid better attention getting here. I remember driving and then seeing a sign for A&W Rootbeer and taking a right. That’s how I got there. Stupid of me, if I needed to hitch I had no landmarks. 

I had hitched a ride from Laura’s once with someone’s creepy Dad. He got a little handsy and I jumped out at a light. Granted he drove around getting handsy for quite some time before he stopped at that light. It was one of the only times I ever really feared for my life.

The sun was setting as the car pulled into the driveway. The driver informed me that this was the Parsons Child and Family Center in Saratoga. There was no sign anywhere to be seen . From my view I could see the nearest place to run was the woods. Unfortunately, I would be able to hit the woods after crossing a backyard the size of two football fields. By then the hounds would be on top of me.

As we left the car, two people left the house and met us halfway. One was a small female, dark hair, pixie cut, a crooked smile and wearing Birkenstocks. The other was male and very strong and powerful. It was clear that he was the “discipline” in the house. Some papers were signed for my transfer and my driver drove away.

It was that simple. No fanfare. No restraints.

From an upper window I could see several people looking out. A hand was placed on my shoulder that pushed me forward and I am walked into the house.

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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