Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 3 Back in Albany New York

Marci leads the way up the stairs, I’m in the middle and Dave follows up the rear. I am now positive than ever that he wants to drop me and leave. He seems nervous and keeps looking at his watch. I can’t remember if he left the car running.

As we get closer to the top of the stairs the banister opens up and creates a landing. My eyes now clear the landing and the smell of unwashed filth flicks my nose. “On the Dark Side” is now on its third repeat. 

As we walk into the landing I can see someone with their back to me standing across the room. He is standing over the stereo slowly listing from side to side. He wears dirty white Keds. His jeans are slightly belled at the bottom; they meet a sweater vest covering a bright orange colored print. The back of his long greasy hair brushes the collar of the shirt and I can hear him mumbling the lyrics along with the record. He nervously pushes his hair behind his ears.

“Jonathan!” Marci screams over his music. Jonathan’s head bobs up like he had just nodded off and he begins to turn in my direction. “Huh?” he’s says as he turns around. It’s more like a slow pan of a camera on the late movie. He lurches forward and turns clumsily. It is like watching a George Romero Zombie smelling fresh blood.

When he finally turns around it’s like meeting a George Romero Zombie. He is slightly hunchbacked and weighing in at 20 pounds. He is filthy. Filthy hair, filthy clothes and a quick look around tells me it’s a filthy house.

“Huh?” he repeats lurching forward. I gag on the smell. “No way in motherfucking hell am I going to live here!” I say out loud and I take a step back. Dave is there to catch me with his hand and push me back into the game. I step right in front of Jonathan who’s eyes are squinty from being heavily medicated.

He opens his mouth begins to tell me about John Cafferty and the Beaver Brown Band. How it’s his favorite, where they have played and who are the members in the band. His words become a drone and I am again hit with a new smell of armpits, onions and something I would now describe as dead squirrel.

The needle comes of the record and mechanically starts again. John Cafferty and the Beaver Brown Band start another chorus of “On the Dark Side.”

It is now very clear why Dave wants out. I want out. Marci wants out. This lumbering, drugged up stinky zombie is to be my new roommate. I am going to share not only an apartment but a bathroom and a bedroom with him.

I begin to shake. Marci and Dave are stepping away from me. She is saying things like “I’m sure you’ll get along famously” and “Paperwork” and “She’ll be right downstairs. By the time she is done Dave is out the door and I can hear the van come to life.

The last view I have is Marci pulling the door close. I then hear the jingle of the bell attached to the door. My mind asks me a question it didn’t ask the first time. “Why is there a bell on the door?”

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.

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 2 Back in Albany New York

I am sitting in the same van that we took on our day out in Saratoga, except this time I am being driven back to Albany. 

A space suddenly opened in the independent living section of the Parson Child and Family Center group home. I am told that this means I will be living in an apartment directly above the group home and that they will be keeping an eye on me and helping me if I ever need anything. 

I am also going to have a roommate who is part of the program and we will share a bedroom. I will be taught skills on a weekly basis that are designed to help me to move into my own apartment. I will be given a weekly check in the amount of $135.00. This will be used to buy groceries.

I am being driven here by my good friend “Counselor Dave” who volunteered to do it. It seems things didn’t go so well when the cops were unable to find the large amounts of marijuana that they were promised. So now Dave has been given the crappy jobs to do.

Truth be told, I think that he wanted to see me gone and if driving me was the best way to do it, then so be it.

The group home is located on New Scotland Avenue in a very residential neighborhood. They feel that this is the best way to make sure that the kids are safe and can be brought up in the most normal way possible. 

As we pull across the sidewalk into the driveway a blond hair kid on a Schwinn bike, comes flying from the back of the house right into the street. A blond hippie looking girl is standing on the porch. I can hear her yell “Roger” after the kid, he peddles away maniacally. She raises her hand and waves at Dave.

Dave returns her wave and I watch her walk down the front steps of the house. Her arms are folded across her chest, her blond hair is in two ratty braids and her sweater is hanging off her shoulders. “We’re here!” Dave gleefully yells while looking at me in the rear view mirror.

The blond woman comes around to my side of the van and with one pull, yanks the door open. It slides easily on its track. “Hi I’m Marci,” she says extending her hand. On closer inspection I see that she is wearing overalls and Birkenstock sandals. I am immediately reminded of Peppermint Patty from Peanuts. 

She just starts to ramble as she helps me out of the van. “How was the trip?” “Is this your suitcase?” “Are you nervous?” “Is this your first time at this group home?” In between my answers she uses the words “Cool Cool.” She now reminds me more of Janice from the Muppet Show.

Marci grabs my suitcase and begins to drag it across the gravel driveway. She is in non stop talking mode the entire time. Dave follows behind us. I can see in Dave’s eyes that he has dealt with Marci before and that staying silent is best.

My suitcase bumps up the four stairs to the porch. Marci seems winded. I don’t know if it was dragging my suitcase or her constant talking. “Were almost there” she says looking over her shoulder at the house.

The house is two levels and is painted an olive green. One of the house numbers has recently been replaced and doesn’t match the other two numbers in color and style. The porch has a slight squeak and a distinctive sag towards the middle, which causes us to lean to the left at a slight angle. There are two doors framed in dark wood in front of me but at complete opposite ends of the porch. “The Lady or the Tiger,” my brain whispers.

Marci drags my suitcase across the porch to the door on the left. Reaching out she turns the handle and pushes the door inwards. I hear a bell jangle and she drags my suitcase into a foyer. There is another steep staircase in front of us. John Cafferty’s “On the Dark Side,” is being blasted from the top of 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.

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 1 Back in Albany New York

I started dancing when I was five. My sister took tap class at Jack Ferrara School of dance in Rotterdam New   York. I used to stand on a hard plastic and chair press my face against the glass window that separated them from the waiting room.  

I would have to jockey for the best position along with the throngs of waiting parents. I was too young to be left at home, so I went and watched. His school was in a strip mall right next to a laundry mat. My Mom would bring large towels or blankets that didn’t fit in our home machines and do them at the Laundromat while we waited.

One day I followed my sister in the room with her and started class. My Mother ran in, grabbed my hand and dragged me out. It was the teacher who asked me to come back in. My Mother reluctantly, let me go. That was it. 

My parents were more ok with my choice of dance as long as I was tapping. That was a masculine form of dance. Our fights started early when I decided I wanted to take ballet. “What will the neighbors think?” my Mother asked me one day. 

“I thought what are the neighbors thinking right now?” When everyone in the neighborhood is playing football or basketball, I’m playing house with my sister and her friends. 

We would put on an old Eartha Kitt album to use as background music and I would pretend to be mean Mrs. Johnson a made up fictitious neighbor complete with drag and wreck my sister’s tea parties.  I knew what the neighbors were saying because most of the time they said it to my face.

The best names that I would be called on a daily basis were Faggot, Queer and Cupcake. Once when I was eleven I had a neighbor ask me to perform fellatio on him. He drove a Trans AM and lived with his Aunt and Uncle.

I was well aware of what the neighbors had to say.

I think that my parents thought if I took ballet, I would become gay. I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t gay I’m pretty clear that dance had nothing to do with it.

In high school I met one a teacher who would influence my life. She was an English Teacher who used to be a dancer. She took me under her wing and molded me. We would take daily classes with her in ballet, jazz and modern. Here is where I was first introduced to Martha Graham, Merce Cunningham and Alvin Ailey. I would be shown video after video of the greatest dancers in the world.

She would take me to Master Classes around the state where I was introduced to so many people in the dance world. I worked so hard and practiced every day. I never told my parents what I was up to and would sneak out of the house to take local ballet classes. Being a boy in the dance world had its benefits and I would take free classes.

At one of these Master Classes I met the owner of a studio in Albany who took an interest in me. I was told to look her up whenever I was in Albany and I could take class with her company.

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.

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Now it begins Part 20

Dave keeps checking us out in his rear view mirror as he drives. I notice that he is driving a little erratic and begins to gain speed as we head back to the house. 

Everyone is quiet but looking around the van. Weare fully communicating with each other but through the use of our eyes. Sharon applies her miming skills as she pulls one finger across her throat looking at me. I return the finger to her as well.

As we turn the corner at the A&W Root Beer stand, Davepicks up even more speed. Heading up the road we can see flashing lights coming from what looks like an army of police cars. Dave glances inthe rear view mirror and forces a smile. Everyone in the van looks around, it is clear that Dave made two phones calls when we stopped. One call went to thehouse and the other call went to the police department. We are currently being driven into an ambush.

A slight panic breaks out in the van and people are unlocking doors and try jumping out while the van is pulling into the yard.Others are slamming the doors and locking them. “Maybe we can keep the police out” Becky yells slapping my hand away from the lock. Dave starts screaming as he continues to drive the van into the flashing lights. The house and grounds are being lit by the headlights and the lights from the top of the cars.

“Just like Albany!” Nick begins to scream, “Just likeAlbany!”

The van pulls up and Diane is standing in the driveway. The look on her face tells me that we are screwed. She is currently flanked by two officers who yank at the handles of the door. Becky is standing with her head smashed against the ceiling, she is holding down the lock. Diane and Becky lock eyes and I hear Diane scream to“Open that door!”

The two cops begin to yank on the handle. Nick begins to freak out pushing everyone aside in the van as he climbs over the seat to getto the door. He starts screaming “Albany, Albany, Albany.” I laugh because I think of Nick yelling “Attica, Attica, Attica!”

The minute the lock gets yanked up the cops reach into the van and yank us out one at a time. More cops arrive and start grabbing kids.Once a cop gets a kid, he marches them into the house; each cop is flanked by asecond officer.

Becky and Sharon are taken into their rooms and I am taken into mine. One cop stands at the door while the second one begins to open drawers and throw clothes around. The first drawer he opened held the rest of the bag of pot I split with the girls. It is in the front and his fingers are literally touching it.

Fortunately for me, he is digging in the back of the drawer and not looking in the front. “Who hides their weed in the front of a drawer?”He is probably thinking. He starts to get angrier and angrier as he searchesthe room. He is still not coming up with anything. Maybe this tip was not agood one. The police were always being called to the group home for one reason or another.

The police continue searching and all us kids are broughtinto the living room. We have three counselors sitting in with us in case anyonesays anything that will help the police. I hear the sound of a pig squealing and snorting. Becky has placed one finger on her nose and pushes it up, her sidekick Sharon is making all the sounds. “Have you had work done?’ I askBecky. Again she flips me the finger.

Diane now walks in the room and see’s Becky flipping me off.  Her face is red and puffy, she is so angry that her head might just blow off. 

Her general announcement to the room is in chopped up phrases and she is muttering. “Police at the house,” “Get to the bottom of this,” “Selling Drugs,” and “You three!” she screams pointing at me, Sharon and Becky. “Get a move on into my office!”

The three of us jump up and march towards her office. Diane almost takes the door off the hinges, while opening it. I have never seen someone so mad and I am a little afraid that we will die or that she will have a heart attack. One of the police officers comes into the room and stands behind us.

What happens next is an honest to god real game of GoodCop/Bad Cop, but in this instance Diane will play Good Cop. The session lasts for several hours and the only thing that they get is that Sharon and Becky bought weed at school and threw it in the garbage. 

No one is buying this story and I am not going to help out anymore than I already have. Diane ends the interrogation with “We will get to the bottom of this if I have to bring the cops back night after night.” We aresent out of the office and into our rooms, it seems that the cops have found nothing and have gone home. Looking out the window I can see Diane and the “BadCop” talking in the driveway. I’m sure they are cooking up another scheme for tomorrow.

I enter my bedroom and look around at the mess of clothes and belongings dumped out on the floor. I see the drawer that held my weed has beenpulled out and the contents dumped. I walk over and sift through the clothes and there in the pile is my bag of weed. 

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.

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Now it begins Part 19

I am pissed off at Sharon and Becky. They are sitting directly behind me in the van. I am also getting a little pissed off at Nick has now played the Jackson Browne album on repeat for the seventh time. 

“Don’t we have anything else to listen to?” Sharon suddenly blurts out scaring Nick. I quickly turn around and Sharon makes a yucky face at me while Becky giggles. 

“I want to punch her in her fucking face, I want to punch her in her fucking face” I think to myself.

“You owe me money,” I hiss under my breath and face Sharon. “What do I owe you money for?” Sharon asks a little too loudly. I can see Dave look in the rear view mirror at us. “You know!” I hiss again. “No, I don’t know!” Sharon hisses back in a perfect mimic of me. Becky giggles. “God, I hate Becky’s fat fucking face,” I think again. Dave’s eyes are not on the road but looking right at me in the rear view mirror.

In the back seat Danny has his knees pulled up and his cowboy hat low over his face. He is as cool as ever and reminds me of a cat taking a nap.

This freak caravan is headed for the woods. “Oh glorious days,” I say out loud to no one. “What did you say?” Sharon leans forward it her seat.

“Just so we are clear I bought you weed and you owe me money,” I say narrowing my eyes.  “I am also not afraid of you and will not hesitate to kill you in your sleep.” I say all of this an inch from her face, my jaw is pinched shut and my teeth are clamped down. This is said without moving my mouth; I am like a crazed ventriloquist.

“God you need a breath mint,” Sharon says waving away the air in front of her and then turning back to a fat giggling Becky. I believe that my eyeballs are going to shoot out of my head and splatter on the windshield, I am now that mad.

“Anyone else need a smoke break?” I scream out. Dave’s eyes meet mine in the rear view and he eases the van onto the roadside. Jackson Browne is on repeat again.

Sliding across the seat I slide out the van door and grab my cigarettes. At this time I am smoking “More’s” which is a menthol ladies cigarette. They are long and thin and I am too cool as I stand on the side of the road. Sharon and Becky light up a Marlboro light each forcing Nick to cough. He waves the unseen smoke out of his face and pulls out his inhaler.

“Retard,” Becky mutters to Nick. “What if I was retarded, how would you feel?” Nick stammers. “Like I was a genius, clearly spotting you as a retard before you knew you were one.” Becky says purposely blowing smoke in Nick’s face. Stung Nick turns his face to hide his tears.

“Fat Bitch,” I mumble to Becky. Clearly not caring she walks away. Mike walks around the side of the van and slides up next to me. “What does Sharon owe you money for?” he asks trying to act like he’s my best friend. My initial response is to tell him that it was for an abortion but I push away the urge.

“Nothing,” I say kicking the dirt with my shoe and trying to walk away. “Seems like an awful lot of fighting for nothing,” he says feigning concern and placing an arm around my shoulder. I step away and take a drag of my cigarette. “She asked me to get her something, I did and she owes me money.” 

“Uh-huh,” he says nodding his head. I am as vague as I need to be.

Dave nods like he understands and then yells “Ok, everyone breaks over, back in the van.”  Becky knocks Nick out of the way and slides into the passenger seat. “Hey,” says Nick as the door slams in his face. Fat Becky gives Nick the finger. A silent tear rolls down his face.

The van pulls back onto the road and Becky puts Jackson Browne back on repeat. “God, I love this album, don’t you?” Becky says slowly turning to look at me. Sharon begins the kicking of my seat. I can feel the blood in my neck and my eyes start to pulse in rhythm with my heart. I am sure that blood and guts are going to fly everywhere when my head explodes.

Dave checks the rearview, Danny’s sleeping, Nick is quietly sobbing and Fat Bitch Becky is giving me the finger while crane faced Sharon is kicking, kicking, kicking my seat. I can hear a clock ticking somewhere and its getting louder and louder and……

“That’s it!” I scream. “Sharon and Becky bought weed from me and never paid me back!” With this new knowledge Dave slams on the breaks causing everyone to lurch forward in their seats. “What?” Dave screams. “What?” Dave screams again. 

Sharon and Becky sit there with their mouths hanging open and their eyes wide. I am reminded of baby birds. Ugly fat crane faced baby birds.

Dave’s head begins to shake as if this information has put him in overload. Quietly and calmly he turns the van around and begins to head back from where we came. No one is speaking except for Nick. “Where are we going?” “I want to go into the woods,” he cries.

Dave not saying a word begins to drive faster and faster. Sharon coming out of shock begins to move her head back and forth. Danny cool as can be doesn’t move. Twenty minutes later Dave pulls the van over and uses a pay phone. “Don’t anyone move or talk while I am right over there,” he says motioning to the payphone.

The minute the door slams Sharon becomes a ventriloquist herself. “Dead, dead, you are so fucking dead.” She mutters never moving her mouth. “We are so screwed,” says Becky looking at Sharon. Ten minutes later Dave climbs back into the van and heads back in the direction of the house. He is not speaking so I know that we are dead.

Now no one in the van is speaking except Jackson Browne is singing. Two seconds later Becky ejects the cd and I see it fly past my window and bounce down the highway.

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.

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 18 Now it begins

Danny rolls over calm and cool as can be and doesn’t jump or seem surprised that I am standing inside his room. He smiles and removes his headphones. “What can I do ya fur?” he drawls. “Seriously,” I think to myself “Where the fuck did he come from?”

“I um..I was sent by Sharon..to….uh” I stammer. “You want to buy weed?” he says swinging his legs off the bed. ‘Yes,” I add quickly.

He walks across the room and opens a free standing closet. There is more weed in there than I have ever seen in my life. “What kind you want?” he asks not looking at me. “The kind you smoke,” I add trying to sound cool. 

Danny laughs and turns to look at me. “No, you chuckle head, want do you want it to do?” “Well it’s not for me, it’s for Sharon and Becky,” I say, trying to make myself sound convincing. “Two of my best customers,” he says adding a chuckle. 

Reaching up he pulls down a baggie with weed and tosses it to me. “Something a little wacky is what they like.” 

I catch the bag and look at it. “How much?” I ask. “Forty bucks al do ya,” Danny says shifting his cowboy hat forward over his eyes.

Reaching in my pants I pull out my money and count it out. It is the last $40.00 I have to my name. Danny reaches up quick and snatches it out of my hand. 

“Good doing business with you,” Danny adds. As I turn to walk quickly out the door Danny says “Remember, squealers tend not to live long around here.” I nod my head without ever looking back.

Standing alone in my room I walk over to make sure the door is closed. I then begin to search around for a container to hold some of this pot. I am not going to give Becky and Sharon all of it. I split it in half and put my half in a little box I find. Then I head into the hallway with the rest of it in my front pocket. 

I knock once and Sharon opens the door. Smiling, I reach in my pocket and withdraw the baggie. Sharon’s eyes get wide and search the hallway behind me and then she reaches out, snatches the baggie from me and shoves it down the front of her pants. “You stupid fuck,” she hisses and slams the door in my face.

I am now standing in the hallway in shock. So I knock on the door again. This time Becky answers. “What do you want?” she asks pausing briefly enough to stop chewing her gum. “Is Sharon here?” I ask. ‘No, she’s out Becky says and then she steps back and slams the door in my face.

I am now completely flummoxed. What do I do now? I figure that I will let it go and approach them at another time. I turn and head downstairs to the kitchen. Five minutes later Becky and Sharon coming running down the front stairs, past the kitchen and as they pass the office they yell out “Going for a walk,” and head out the door. 

“What the?” I say out loud running to the window. I can see them. They are run/walking to the street. Becky is still putting on a coat and Sharon is lighting a cigarette. Two minutes later, they are out of sight.

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.

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 17 Now it begins

The door gets taken off the hinges and they find me with my my legs curled up underneath me. 

Diane sees blood on the floor and the name “Ann” written in it and calls the paramedics. I am placed under “psych watch.” 

No one seems to understand the humor of what I have written, no one saw Heather writing it in Diana Taylors blood to frame Ann on "General Hospital." Explaining it gets a lot of people nodding and telling me "that they completely understand" and then making my straps a little tighter.

As they are carrying me out of the house I can hear Nick in the bathroom they just removed me from screaming. “This is turning into the Albany group home!”  “This is turning into the Albany group home!” It is very clear that my days are numbered here in Saratoga.

Diane is at the hospital, she just spoke to her husband Charlie who is a counselor in the Parsons system in Albany about getting me transferred to an  “Independent living” group home. It’s still in the Parsons Child and Family system, so I would be making a horizontal move. He will be putting the paperwork in to make it happen.

I am trying to explain the plot of General Hospital to a nurse who has my hands strapped to the bed. She tells me that she’s more of a Guiding Light fan as she leaves the room.

“Boy, how did this happen?” I ask myself. I have screwed up big time. I have to spend at least 48 hours in the care of the hospital. The cut on my arm wasn’t bad at all. I did most of the damage pulling my hand back. The say I probably will have a little scar. The nurses are actually kind when they talk to me. It is the first time in a long time that I am allowed to be a child and I feel safe.

That night while I am in the hospital Dennis and Mike steal the van and are gone for two hours before anyone notices. 

Several psychological tests and two days later when I get back to the group home, they are still missing. It seems that Mike’s rape story was a plot to share a room with Dennis so they could plan their big escape. It is very clear that I never “raped” anyone. It is Diane who approaches and me and “off the record” apologizes. “Well we still have this weekend to look forward to,” she says.

How this didn’t get me out of the weekend in the country car trip, I’ll never know. Dennis and Mike are still missing so they believe that it will be best to handle this and get us kids out of the house. I have already lived more drama in the short time that I have been here.

Everyone is told what to pack and Mark goes through everyone’s suitcases to make sure no one has brought any drugs with them. We are however allowed to stop at the corner store and buy cigarettes. I am in my "More" Cigarette faze. They are long dark brown and menthol. I am so cool when I smoke them. Pretty much all the kids smoke at the group home.

Dave is in charge of the trip and walks around the house telling everyone what a great time we will be having. Sharon pulls me aside and asks if I have any money. “Why do you need it?” I ask. 

Sharon and Becky want to smoke pot on the trip but they have no money. Sharon’s Mom will be sending her money by next week and she can pay me back then. “Where do you get weed?” I ask. “You need to ask Danny, he has plenty in his room,” Sharon tells me.

While everyone is packing, I knock on Danny’s door. There is no answer, so I knock again. Still no answer so I slightly push the door open and poke my head in.

Danny is lying on the bed with earphones on. I can hear the country music coming through the headphones loud and clear. Danny is tapping his cowboy boot in time to the music. Danny is sort of an enigma, he has his own rules and comes and goes as he pleases. I rarely see him. The inside of his room looks like backstage at a rodeo. “Where the hell did he come from?” I ask myself.

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.

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 16 Now it begins

I am now a prisoner in my own room. How quickly things change around here. Not to mention that I am also waiting for the police to show up and arrest me. Who knew that this was how Saratoga would turn out? 

I am told that the kids were told to ignore me. Sharon told me that in hushed tones as she stood outside of my room. She also tells me that I’m in solitary confinement.

Around 2pm in the afternoon I see Mike and Dennis standing in the driveway. Mike glances up at my window see’s me and waves. Dennis looks the same direction and waves as well. They walk back into the house.

Now I am mad. I pick up a barbell lying on the floor and I drop it. I repeat this about thirty times but hold it higher and higher. The house shakes with every drop of the weight. Soon I hear footsteps running in my direction and Mark literally smashes the door inward. I take two steps back and Mark runs at me placing his hands around my throat. We fall backwards over a chair.

He is once again sitting on my chest with his hands around my throat when he begins to repeatedly start banging my head on the floor. His face is red and the veins in his neck are bulging. I once again feel the world grow gray around me as I slip into a quieter state. I black out for a moment which causes Mark to jump up off of me. He realizes that he may have “gone too far.”

As I begin to come to, Mark backs towards the door but turns around and jabs his finger in the air at me. “Keep it up and I’ll kill you.” I pull myself across the floor and onto the bed. I don’t have to be told twice about his threat and I believe that he actually will kill me.

Two hours later I get off the bed and open the door to the hallway. Looking out I see that no one is there. I can hear someone playing that same Jackson Browne album from behind a closed door. I walk to the top of the stairs and listen. I hear nothing, no talking, no laughing, nothing but silence.

As I head to the kitchen, I pass the office. Looking through the office window I can see they are having another meeting. I figure this is my time to plead my case and tell them what actually happened between me and Mike.

Diane is sitting in the middle of a circle of counselors. She has their undivided attention. She can see me as I approach the door and doesn’t seem to react to me one way or another. I knock on the glass and everyone turns to look at me. I can see and hear Diane say “Ignore him.” So I knock again and again until my knocking becomes a steady rapping. When my steady rapping doesn’t work I begin to pound on the glass. My pounding becomes harder and harder. And then it happens. It happens in slow motion. I raise my fist and bring it against the glass. Slowly my hand smashes through the glass, the glass flew inwards and everyone slowly turns in my direction. Everyone has a look of dread and horror as the glass shatters into a million little pieces and rains down on them. Realizing what I have done I pull my hand back out and that’s when I noticed the blood running down my arm.

Again in slow motion I turn grabbing my arm and run for the bathroom. Several counselors are hot on my heels. As I run into the bathroom I slam the door turn around and pull the bolt. Crossing to the wall I slide to the floor. The bathroom door is being pushed in by several people on the other side. It groans and squeaks. My blood began to run down my arm and pool on the floor. I watch in sick fascination as it runs across the linoleum. Reaching down and with one finger I write “Ann” in the blood.

 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.

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 15 Now it begins

The next morning I wake and Mike is no longer in my bed, in fact he is no longer in the room. I now figure that “hell, this place isn’t so bad.” 

I throw back the covers and head into the bathroom. Pausing at the top of the stairs I can hear kids downstairs at the breakfast table.

I quickly shower and head down. As I walk into the dining room I realize that I haven’t seen any staff members around the house at all. When I ask, Becky informs me that “they are all in the office having a meeting.” I shrug and figure it must be a daily thing and that soon we will see them.

“It has something to do with Mike,” Becky adds as an aside and returns to eating. “Huh?” I think to myself and I turn, walk out of the room and head to the office. There is a glass window in the office door and by standing off to the side, I figure that I can see in and they can’t see me. I can see Mike sitting in a chair surrounded by counselors; his angelic face is stained with tears. Everyone around him is hanging on his every word. One of the counselors holds a Kleenex box at the ready.

I move closer to the door and try to listen. I hear Mark say “these are very serious charges” and Diane adds “We should call the police. I am now intrigued. What could have possibly happened in between last night and today? He seemed all right last night and now he is in the office blubbering and they are talking serious charges? I move a little closer and as I raise my eyes Mike see’s me and points a finger at me. All the counselors look at the door and then right at me.

Two counselors take Mike on either side and block him. Diane crosses to the door and yanks it open, I can hear the glass rattle. “You are in deep trouble,” she says to me. Mark crosses behind her and walks up to my side. The two counselors holding Mike dance him out the door and Mark and Diane dance me in. Mike sobbing stops, he looks at me and an evil grin crosses his face. It is a brief moment in time and he is back to sobbing.

Mark pushes me into the same chair that Mike was sitting in. Diane steps in front of me. “We are removing Mike from your room for his own protection,” Diane says walking over and closing the door. “What for?” I ask. “You know, what for,” she repeats mocking my voice. “He tells us that you forced him to have sex with him last night.” “He tells us that he is scared to stay in the room with you.” He tells us that you threatened to kill him if you didn’t have sex with him.” “He claims that you raped him.”

My eyes grow wide and all the air is sucked out of the room. “He’s a fucking liar,” I scream “A fucking liar”. “Why should we believe you?” Mark asks spinning me towards him. I am now an inch from his face and I can see spittle on his lip. “Because he’s fucking lying” I say. Diane faces me, “He seems pretty upset” and finishes up with “I have to report this to the police.”

My world begins to spin. I can’t seem to find the thread of sense in this. “You will spend the rest of the day confined to your room until the police come.” “If Mike decides to press charges I don’t know what will happen to you.” Diane waves her hand and Mark grabs my arm and yanks me to standing. Then he grabs my arm and the back of my neck and pushes me into the hallway.

“I didn’t do anything,” I scream. Diane turns and closes the office door in my face. She is now standing an inch away from me but separated by glass. She begins to shake her head back and forth and walks away from me. I begin to fight for my life and Mark slams me to the floor and sits on me. He then takes his knee and presses it to my throat. “Stop fighting,” he screams the veins bulging in his forehead.

He presses his knee harder until the world begins to go dark. I stop fighting and lay there. Mark waits a good ten minutes until he is sure that I am done fighting and then he yanks me back to my feet.

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.

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 14 Now it begins

We can hear the cops taking the cuffs off of the two boys. Diane immediately starts in with the rules of the house. She also explains to the cops that she is not used to having children brought to the house handcuffed. 

The cops explain that it is procedure and that these two boys need to be watched really closely. “If I had my way,” says one of the cops “they would be in prison for a long time.”

“Great,” I think to myself, if I didn’t feel safe living here before this makes me less sure. “It’s becoming a group home from Albany,” Nick loudly whispers again. Sharon glares at him and punches her own hand. I’m beginning to wonder what happened to Nick at an Albany group home.

As Diane bids goodbye to the cops and heads to the stairs we all scatter back to our rooms. Ten minutes later there is a knock at my door. It’s Diane with Mike. Diane doesn’t wait to be asked in but opens the door and sticks her head in. “I have a new roommate for you,” she says with a smile on her face. Now she steps in the room and swings the door open. Placing both arms out like she just did a magic trick she announces “Ta-da” and I see Mike standing there.

This ferocious villain stands at about 4’3, soft hazel eyes, curly hair and a swimmers body. He reminds me of a Botticelli angel. His eyes are on the floor and I notice one of his shoe laces is undone. Mike‘s eyes slowly come up to meet mine and a shy smile crosses his face. There must be some mistake that this boy arrived in handcuffs at the door. I got a quick glimpse of Dennis from the top of the stairs and I have to say that he looks like a felon in training to me.

“Hi,” says Mike and he quickly steps in the room. He takes a look around and I can see him making a mental note of what’s in here. I make a quick mental note to see if I have anything of value in my stuff that I need to hide. Walking over to far side of the room he sits down on the bed and places his hands on either side. He then looks up at me smiles and asks “Mind if I sleep here?”

“You two are going to get along famously,” Diane says and walks out of the room.

Mike begins to tell me the story of how he met Dennis and that Dennis has the IQ of a five year old. Dennis also just does things without thinking and it tends to get him in trouble. Dennis once stole a car but didn’t know it was wrong he just did it. Mike and I begin to talk for hours and soon we are told that it’s “lights out.”

I show Mike to the bathroom and go back into the bedroom to get ready for bed. Several minutes later Mike returns to the room, stands by his bed and strips down to his underwear. 

He looks more like a wrestler than a swimmer now to me; I can see the muscles on his forearms and legs. He glances over at me and smiles again. Then he reaches out and turns off the light.

The room is bathed in darkness and silence. Twenty minutes later I can feel my covers being pulled down as Mike slips in bed next to me. “Mind if I sleep here?” he whispers in my ear. I reach across under the covers and I can feel that he has removed all his clothes.

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.

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 13 Now it begins

Mark and I sit in my room. He is asking a lot of questions and I feel that so many of them border on the personal. “Where did I grow up?” “Do I like boys or girls?” “Why can’t I get along with my Mother?” 

My head is spinning and I feel that he is Grand Inquisitor trying to get to “the heart of the matter” with me. I am a tight lipped enigma and I can tell that I am getting to him every time his eyebrows go up. I counter his questions with vague answers like “Maybe, uh-huh and she’s a bitch.”

It is clear that he is getting frustrated and I have seen right through his trying to bond with me. I pretty much don’t trust adults and I’m finding that I trust adults working in group homes less than that. Our bonding lasts a couple of hours. I start to give him any answer to any question no matter how ridiculous, he is wearing me down. My urge to “run” grows stronger. Once he gets what he feels is enough information from me, he leaves.

I lie down on my bed and close my eyes.

At 8pm a police car arrives and parks in the driveway. Word spreads quickly through the house to “look out your windows.” From my perspective, I have a front row seat my room looks into the driveway. One of the cops in the passenger seat gets out of the car and goes to the back door. Once the overhead light goes on I can see two figures sitting in the backseat. The cop reaches in and removes one of the passengers. The cop who was in the driver seat gets out of the walks to the back door and removes the second passenger.

Both boys have their hands behind their backs. It’s very clear that they are in hand cuffs. I can see them shuffling to the house, the cops are pushing them to walk forward. I can hear a stampede from everyone’s bedrooms as they race to the top of the landing. From this vantage point we can hear and if you are lucky be able to see what’s going on downstairs.

Through muffled voices we can hear that Diane is still in the house along with Mark. They have been waiting for this delivery, once they check them in they can go home. This must be Dennis and Mike that they have been waiting for.

Listening closely we hear the cops explaining that both boys came from a long line of shelters, group homes and most recently Juvenile Hall. Dennis and Mike have several crimes that the cops begin to list. It begins with Grand Theft, Solicitation, drug dealing, prostitution and ends with endangering a minor.

It seems that they have been shuttled around a long time. Nick loudly whispers “God this is turning into an Albany group home.” Becky shuts him up when she elbows him in the ribs.

We are hoping to get a good look and just then Dennis steps backwards into our view. He stands about 4’5 greasy short spiky hair. He turns his gaze and sees us all at the top of the stairs I notice his “cheesy” moustache that hasn’t grown in but is actually black fuzz.

One of the cops yanks him back out of our view.

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.

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.

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.

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.