Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 15 Leaving Home

School went by very quickly that day; it seemed as if everyone knew that I had no place to live. So very many people came forward and offered me a place to stay at their homes for a day here or a day there that I found myself overwhelmed several times during the day and hid in the bathroom. And even during this time I was being bullied in school.

The bullies in my school were some of the worst people I have ever met. The bullying started in sixth grade and continued for my entire Guilderland school life. There were times I found myself hiding in the bathroom as the bullies stood and waited outside, opening the bathroom door, screaming “faggot,” and telling me that I had until the end of the day to live.

Sometimes they waited for as long as it took me to come out. Finding out through the grapevine that I was now both a “faggot” and homeless was too much for them to take. The glee I could see in their faces as they either threw me into a locker or spit on me while they screamed various phrases, stayed with me for years. On this particular day, they muttered the words “homeless faggot” as they passed me in the hall, jerking their hands back and pretending to punch me. But even then, I knew that someday it would be different, and my revenge would begin on the day that I could write about it.

At the end of the school day I met Kerry at her car and she handed my bag over to me. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said. Beth stood waiting for me on the curb. We had to catch the bus to her house. Climbing aboard, I was stopped by the driver's announcing, “Whoa, hold on there, you don’t ride this bus.” 

Beth and I explained that I was going to her house for the night. The driver told us that school policy required me to show permission from my parents. I was now forced to explain my story in front of a bus of kids listening to why I needed to be taken to Beth’s house. My explanation had little effect, as we were asked to leave the bus and get a note from the office. Someone at the back of the bus covered their mouth and blurted the word “faggot.”

We climbed off the bus. Beth went and called her mother to come pick us up after she got out of work. We sat on the grass facing the tennis courts and waited. Beth’s mother arrived and waved us over. While we were climbing into her car, she put her hand out and introduced herself. “Having a rough day?” she asked. “Uh-huh,” I said.

I was silent on the drive to Beth’s house, while Beth explained to her mother the course that my life had recently taken. Beth’s mom was a lawyer, and her face didn’t give away what she was thinking. During the drive her eyes switched between the rearview mirror where her eyes met Beth's, and the road. She didn’t look at me.

We pulled into their driveway. I climbed out as Beth ran to her front door. As I walked around the car, Beth’s mother threw her arms around me and just hugged me. I could feel her mouth pressed to my head. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered, as she choked back a sob.

To be continued….

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writting "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 Leaving Home

The first thing I did was to make it over to the Albany bus depot three blocks away. There I used a payphone to call Kerry. Thank god, it was still early enough in the morning that she was still at home and picked up on the first ring. After telling her my story she said, “I’m not sure that you can stay at my house but we can ask around.”

I walked another three blocks over to Washington to catch the bus to Stuyvesant Plaza. At the bus stop located on the corner of Lark Street and Washington, I was feeling like a wanted fugitive so I stood a little ways back from the street and kept my head down. I was hyper aware that at any moment someone from the shelter could come driving past and make me get in the car or worse, they could have called the police and I could be asked to get into the back of a police car. It took about 25 minutes for the bus to come and I climbed aboard with my head down.

Kerry was waiting for me by the time the bus pulled in. I ran over, climbed in her car and we drove to school. “Tell me again what happened for you to run away from the shelter?” she asked pulling out onto the highway.

I went through the story again and Kerry inserted various “Wow’s” when I reached the parts about smoking weed, getting caught with it and then being told I would have to leave. “What do you think that you’re going to do now?” she asked. “I don’t know.” “I am going to ask several friends at school if I can stay with them.” I didn’t have a lot of time to find a place to spend the night. I knew that it was a lot to ask of someone but to then ask them to let me live full time with them? I even knew that was a lot to ask.

Kerry pulled into the school parking lot at Guilderland High and looked right at me. “Are you ok?” she asked. I nodded and fought back the tears. “It will work out she said.” “I know” I responded opening the car door. Pausing, I asked, “Can I leave my bag in your car?” “Of course,” she said and we headed into school.

I ran to homeroom before the bell and checked in. Our homerooms were organized by last name, so everyone in my homeroom’s last name started with the letter D. Thank god that one of my best friends Debbie was there, I needed the laughs and the support. Debbie was one of the funniest human beings I ever had the pleasure to get to know. We had started a school newspaper together once, well more like a flier that had a great expose on various cheerleaders in our homeroom. I quickly went in and when I didn’t find her there I knew where to go.

Like every high school, the students at my school all grouped together in familiar groups. The various groups are separated into the various categories, jocks & cheerleaders, nerds, heads and theatre people. I was part of the theatre people group. The theatre group also lumped together all the people in band. 

If you played in band you were also allowed to hang out in the band room before school started, after you checked into your homeroom. Being that I was in theatre but not band, I was tolerated but breaking all the rules by going there for homeroom. Today, this point it seemed a mute one.

I didn’t have a plan but figured that I would just start asking for people’s help. On my first attempt, my friend Beth said that she would ask her Mom if I could spend the night. Beth and her mother lived alone and they had plenty of room, so she didn’t think that it would be a problem. Twenty minutes later Beth cleared it with her Mom and I was to go home with her at the end of the day.

I was so relieved that I had a place to spend the night but I needed to ask around to find other places to stay. I was sure that Beth’s Mom was not going to make this a permanent thing.

To be continued…….

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writting "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 Leaving Home

Now what do I do? I have no plan B. In the morning I am going to be forced to pack my stuff and go. Where do I go, into the street? What have I done? I am so close to moving to Saratoga to live in a group home and now it is all screwed up.

We walk silently back to our rooms. I have never seen Laroy that pissed off; come to think of it I don’t think that I have ever seen Laroy angry before. Every time we turn on the stairs to look back Laroy just points with his finger to the top of the stairs and screams “Move!”

In complete silence Tom and I go into our room and Alex returns to his across the hall. “I am screwed,” I tell Tom. Tom just looks into space. “What the hell am I going to do?” I ask. Tom just shakes his head. We both get ready for bed and this time we don’t leave our room.

I spend the whole night staring at the ceiling. I have nowhere to go in the morning, it is all over. Silently, I slide out of bed and pack my things. Tom rolls over and looks at me. Not a word passes between us. An hour before the staff arrives for the morning shift, I fall asleep. When I wake up, Tom is not in the room. I open the door and look out to see if I can spot him or Alex. Walking into the hallway I peer around the corner so I can look into the TV room. No one is in there either. I walk back into the hallway and lean over the banister. It’s a great way to see if anything is going on downstairs.

As usual it is a beehive of activity. I listen closely and I can hear snippets of words. It sounds like the staff is in disbelief as to what went on last night. While I am eavesdropping Donna appears directly under me. She just happens to glances up at that moment, as she catches sight of me she shakes her head in disgust. “I’ll be here when you get downstairs,” she says walking into the office without a backward glance in my direction.

My brain is in full panic mode. What do I do now? My things are packed, I believe that they will stay true to their word and throw me out. I have seen it happen before. If you don’t like the rules here, you get asked to leave. Smoking weed is not only illegal it is in strict violation of their policies.

It is time to face the music. I have taken the longest shower and dressed as slowly as possible. I can no longer “put it off.” To get out of the building, I have to walk past the office. Standing at the top of the landing I take each step as if I am walking to the gallows. The steps squeak as I put my weight on them, betraying me and announcing my slow arrival. At the bottom of the stairs I see no one around. As I walk down the hallway to the main office, I can hear a gathering in the kitchen behind me.

I step into the office and there is no one in here. I am alone. No Donna and no staff. On the table I notice that someone has left my file. I walk quickly over to the table and thumb through it. Everything that I have ever done in the shelter is clearly documented. The night I arrived by police escort, all the court dates, interactions with my family and all the staffs private notes are now sitting in a file right in front of me. I act without thinking and grab a Yellow Pages. I place it on the table over my file and then I pick up both the yellow pages and the file. My heart is racing as I turn out of the office and head to the stairs. Everyone is in the kitchen is still having a meeting over coffee.

I quickly head up the stairs and run into my bedroom. I can feel my pulse in my neck. Throwing my file into my bag, I zip it up and head back into the hall. I look both ways as I enter the hallway near Alex’s room. 

Once there I go over to the window and throw open the sash. I duck my head and swing my legs out onto the fire escape. Grabbing my bag I pull myself out on to the landing and slide the window closed. Very quietly I take each step towards the ground, these stairs don’t betray me. Now sweat is starting to form on my brow, I wipe it with the back of my hand. At the last step I jump to the ground and run around the back into the alley and disappear.

To be continued…….

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writting "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 Leaving Home

Two weeks later Tom and Alex brought a joint into the shelter. Everything seemed to be heading a direction to put me on “a path” in life.

I would finish up my time at Equinox, move to Saratoga to live in a group home and then go off to college. Tom and Alex stood at the top of the stairs and waited to hear Laroy’s snoring before they opened my door. “Come across the hall,” whispered Alex motioning with his hand. “We are going to smoke some weed.” Silently we crossed the hallway and entered Alex’s room.

I had been in Alex’s room before but now he was living alone, his roommate recently worked out his problems with his parents and moved back home. Against one wall of Alex’s room was a pile of mattresses that were kept there as storage. Our job in the morning was to move them to a storage room on the upper floor of the building. People were always donating things to the shelter and since our numbers were always growing the donations came in handy.

We got the idea to block the door with the mattresses so that no one could get in and surprise reached in the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a joint, he then placed it in his mouth. Pausing he to smile he took a lighter out of his pocket and lit up.

The smoke curled around Alex’s head as he inhaled deeply and held the smoke in his lungs. Tom reached out and took the joint from Alex holding it between two fingers. “Smells like skunk,” says Tom with a laugh. Alex gives him the thumbs up.

We sat on that fire escape for about 20 minutes talking about what our dreams were when we got out of here. Tom and Alex wanted to see the world and travel across the country. I wanted to move to New York City and become a dancer.

We finished the joint and while we were climbing back in the window it sounded as someone was pounding on the bedroom door. “Open this door now!” screamed the person on the other side of the door. It was Laroy. “I know that you’re smoking weed,” he screamed. Alex and Tom ran across the room and lay against the mattresses, trying to block Laroy from coming in. Laroy tired of asking us to open the door began to kick it down. The crunching and splintering sound created by the door as it crashed in was deafening.

Once through the door Laroy butted the mattresses and sent Tom and Alex flying across the room. I stood there with my mouth hanging wide open, completely in shock. “The police are on their way,” screamed Laroy as he took the mattresses and tossed them as if they weighed nothing.

The Albany police ever subtle pulled up in front of the building with their lights flashing. Laroy grabbed at the air as we tried to dive past him. Somehow this tiny little ex-Hells Angel kicked in a door, threw mattresses around and grabbed three boys as they jumped out of his way.

Laroy dragged us down the stairs and into the office. We could see the police at the front door. Laroy threw each of us into a chair and pointing screamed “Don’t anyone move!” Running to the front door he opened it and in a calm voice said “Gentlemen what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” The cops laughed and walked in. You could hear their walkie-talkies going off as one of the officers pushed his hat back off his head. “You got anymore on you?” he asked scanning the three of us.

“No……no…no sir,” Alex stammered. “Well you better not,” he responded. Speaking into their radio’s one of the cops walked back out of the room. The one who stayed began to give us a lecture on the evils of smoking marijuana. While he was talking his partner re-entered the room and began to go through our pockets. Thank god they never found anything.  When he was done with his speech he tipped his hat to Laroy and he and his partner walked back into the night.

“Tonight is your last night,” said Laroy. “Go back to your rooms, in the morning you have to leave.”

To be continued…….

 

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