At this point the kids were old enough not to put something dangerous in their mouths or into electric outlets, but plenty of other calamities could have happened when they were left alone this way. Attempting to use the stove could have resulted in burns, fire, or carbon monoxide poisoning. (Their home surely didn’t have smoke alarms or carbon monoxide detectors.) They could have ventured outside and gotten lost or kidnapped or hurt. Any number of things could happen to kids ages seven and five who are left alone for a long period of time, and it’s incredible to think their mother would leave them to their own devices this way.
Sylvia’s errant lifestyle did produce one incredibly scary experience for them, one that they still speak about gravely today. It was one more of those defining moments of fear, creating that “fight or flight” instinct that was becoming so powerfully installed in their developing systems.
One night a group of men broke into the house. At first Rick thought it was Sylvia coming home with a man, but he soon realized she wasn’t with the people who had opened the door. Rick and Jenny looked at each other, and she bolted to the corner of her room while Rick tiptoed to the living room where the theft was taking place. He stood in the dark, watching them pull out the microwave and look for other things to steal. He didn’t recognize the men, but believes they were friends of Tony.
Bitter fear rose in Rick’s heart while this was happening. Where was his mom? Why was this happening? He might not have understood that other kids’ lives weren’t like his, but common sense told him that something just wasn’t right. He remembers at least one of the men making eye contact with him but continuing on with the job as if he weren’t there at all—a situation truly terrorizing to a child. The look of fear and confusion on his face is heartbreaking to imagine.
They left before long, taking the microwave and a few other items and leaving the door broken, unable to be locked again. Rick crept back into the bedroom with his sister, where they exchanged silent glances. There was nothing to say or do, no point in even praying. Of course, God doesn’t need a child to ask in order to be present. But Rick didn’t know that. By that point it was as if all communication to God was cut off, not a spark alive in his mind, even though it was something that could have brought some comfort.
Sylvia came home at some point in the morning, saw the busted door, and called the cops to report the theft. But for Rick and Jenny it was too late. The damage was done.
The truth was, the nights and days when Sylvia was gone were often the better ones for Rick and Jenny. Without her, they had some peace and quiet. But they never had peace of mind. They always knew she could come back at any moment, drunk or stoned, and chaos would rule again.
Some of the worst nights—and there were many—were after Sylvia had come home with a man. Rick and Jenny were usually relieved it wasn’t Tony—no one compared to his angry outbursts—but all the men brought a sense of danger to the house. Once a man had gotten what he wanted, he didn’t like to be reminded of what he’d done with a woman who’d left very young children at home to fend for themselves. So Rick and Jenny did their best to make themselves scarce. Usually Sylvia’s “dates” had no idea the children were around—that is, unless Rick or Jenny made an appearance while using the restroom or getting a glass of water.
On some of these nights, after the man left, Sylvia would become inconsolable—drinking, sobbing, calling for her kids to come be with her, turning on sad music, and wailing into the night. Rick usually just waited for her to pass out on the kitchen floor. Only then would they find some relief from the drunken hysteria. Her passing out meant the night could end and they could finally sleep with a bit of peace, knowing she’d be out for several hours.
But even then, Rick’s job wasn’t over.
The trailer was often flooded with roaches. He learned quickly that if he left his mom alone on the floor, the roaches would overtake her unmoving body. So instead of going to bed on those nights, he and Jenny would sit watch in the kitchen and pick off the roaches before they reached her face, her arms, her ears, and the rest of her body.
Sylvia never knew.
They felt utterly helpless in the face of this awful situation, and this was the one thing they could do to redeem it. She was their mother, their only mother, the only one who took care of them (somewhat) and told them she loved them (sometimes). And Rick knew she really did love them in her own way. She couldn’t overcome her demons enough to make it tangible, but it was there in its own sickly form. It was just so overtaken by illness and addiction it could hardly be recognized.
Experiences like these have a severe impact on developing brains. The latest research has shown that our brains don’t actually stop developing until our thirties—and possibly later.2 This is why the more Adverse Childhood Experiences children have and the longer adversity and trauma go on in their lives, the more severe the impact will be.
Not only do children like Rick have to overcome the emotional and mental pain; they also face a much larger problem that can affect their overall health for years to come. In a sense, their trauma becomes a part of them that they must live with the rest of their lives.
While Rick doesn’t have any severe physical problems now, he is still fairly young; he knows the stress of his childhood still deeply affects him. He fears that years of dealing with this pressure may eventually take its toll in the form of a heart attack or stroke. In the meantime, he must battle with the mental and emotional fallout from what he experienced as a child.
He has come a long way in dealing with anxiety and processing what happened to him in childhood, but it’s impossible to eradicate all the effects.
CHAPTER 14
TONY RETURNS
Sylvia said Tony would be getting out of jail soon—and the idea terrified Rick. Recalling all those awful, bloody nights at home, he wanted to disappear, run away, and never come back. The fear was palpable, twisting his stomach in knots and making sleep nearly impossible. He knew it was pointless to tell his mom he didn’t want to see Tony. But the dread created a storm of anxiety in him, emotions that sometimes even bubble up today when he sees a man who resembles Tony or hears a story of domestic abuse.
The abuse came back with a vengeance when Tony became a free man. Sylvia had wisened up a little bit, however, and now carried Mace with her for those nights when Tony went on violent streaks. Rick remembers the night it was finally put to use—but he was the one who grabbed the vial and sprayed a healthy dose of the pepper spray straight in Tony’s face. The man fell to the ground, and Rick felt powerful—but also scared of what the consequences of his actions would be.
As the Mace dissolved into the air, Tony screamed, “Ahh . . . my eyes, my eyes” and slumped over the sink, reaching for the faucet. Sylvia turned to Rick to say, “Good job.” But Tony heard her praise and turned on her as soon as the sting of the Mace had passed.
“I’m not going to hurt him because he’s a child, but I’m gonna beat you because of what you said,” Tony threatened, grabbing her by the neck and shoving her head into the wall.
The next day the whole incident appeared forgotten. Perhaps beating up Sylvia had drained away his anger. More likely, it was all just a foggy memory in Tony’s mind, blurred by drugs and alcohol.
A few weeks after Tony’s return, Rick joined him for a ride-along— also known as a drug deal. Of course he didn’t understand what would happen when he got in the car. Tony had promised him a present if he came along, though, so he skeptically agreed.
They pulled up to a street corner where some guys were meeting Tony to buy drugs. They seemed to find it hilarious that a seven-year-old was in the front seat for this negotiation.
Tony told Rick to lean his head out the window and say, “Yo, cuz, where’s the drugs?” He did as he was told, feeling strange and vulnerable. Something just felt wrong about the whole situation.
But the guys on the sidewalk laughed again. “Little man’s starting early,” said one of the guys with a snicker.
Tony had Rick do the exchange of drugs and money himself. He was stone-cold serious in the passenger’s seat as he did it, not wanting to participate, but feeling forced. He dared not challenge Tony for fear of being beaten or, even worse, left behind. In that moment, he felt Tony could simply abandon him and he’d be lost forever, never see his mom or sister again. In his mind, he just wanted this to be over with as soon as possible so he could get back home to relative safety.
The whole exchange took only a few moments, but the experience seemed like an eternity to Rick. Once they got back to the house, he bounded out of the car to his room, hoping Tony wouldn’t invite him on any more ride alongs.
Later that year, as it was nearing Christmas, both Rick and Jenny said they wanted bikes for Christmas. There was no money for that kind of thing, but for Tony that was not an obstacle.
He had no need to impress a little boy. But just because he could, Tony came over one night with a bike for Rick. It was the middle of the night when he barged into Rick’s room, tapped him on the shoulder, and told him to get up to come see a surprise. Rick was skeptical, but he hesitantly walked into the living room. And sure enough, there was the bike he’d said he wanted.
“Tony stole that just for you,” Sylvia said, her words strung out in drunken singsong. “He risked going to jail for you, Rick. Tell him thank you.”
“Thanks,” Rick mumbled, checking out the bike, not sure what to do at this time of night with the little space allowed in their living room.
He knew stealing was wrong, but it was nothing new for Tony. And he was excited to have a new bike, something none of his friends—or even his sister—had. He hadn’t done anything wrong himself, so he just tried to be happy about it.
Tony’s thieving ways wouldn’t last long, though. Sometime soon after the bike incident, the family went to the local K-Mart in the new car that Tony had shown up with. Rick had been glad to see that car. Hopefully that meant Tony wouldn’t always be taking Sylvia’s or leaving them stranded at home. Not that Sylvia took them many places, but at least there was an option when the car was there.
They went into the grocery store and started “shopping”—that is, watching Tony put a few things in the shopping Tony and then dump items into another bag he was carrying. When it was time to leave, he had a bag full of goods that hadn’t been paid for. He told the kids to run to the car and get in fast. He followed them, jumped in the car, and peeled out of the lot at full speed.
Tony may have gotten the grocery-store goods “free,” but he had made a mistake fetching them in a car that was also stolen. Police must have spotted the vehicle when they were in the store or just as they were leaving, because within minutes there were multiple cop cars, sirens blaring, chasing them full speed down the highway.
Rick and Jenny weren’t buckled up, and they didn’t know why they were being chased. Sylvia tried to comfort them saying, “It’s okay, kids. It’s okay.” But her own face looked slightly petrified and her voice didn’t sound like things were okay. Tony was speeding up, revving the engine to pass cars on the right and left, switching lanes, and dodging back and forth. Rick could see his hands gripping the steering wheel and his eyes glancing nervously in the rearview mirror, hunting for a way to lose the cops.
They passed multiple exits but didn’t take them. The police cars weren’t gaining any distance but they weren’t losing any, either. They sped up when Tony sped up. They were headed for disaster, and Rick feared for his life.
There was no way Tony was going to get out of this mess, and soon two more cop cars came zooming out from an entrance ramp ahead of them. Now there were cops in front of and behind them, hemming in the stolen car.
Tony screamed an obscenity and slammed the steering wheel so hard it felt like the whole car was vibrating. Eventually, he slowed the car to a stop on the side of the highway, where dozens of police cars surrounded them, exiting their cars with caution, hands on their guns.
Rick was just relieved the car was stopped and they were no longer at risk of being killed in a crash. The presence of police and bright lights and guns was overwhelming though. He and Jenny held hands in the back seat, their eyes wide and fearful, secretly hoping this would send Tony away for good—whatever it was he had done. They assumed the stop was for the stolen stuff from the grocery store.
After Tony was handcuffed and driven away, a policeman drove Sylvia and the kids home. And then Tony went to prison for a long time. He had a string of other outstanding charges in addition to the stolen car. They wouldn’t have to deal with Tony, hopefully, ever again.
One night, however, soon after Tony was arrested, Rick walked in the kitchen to find his mom slumped on the floor with a razor dangling from her sleeve. Blood was streaming from her wrists, and she was barely conscious. She told him to let her be, to just let her die, that he was better off without her.
Rick’s throat filled with fear as he watched his mom bleed. He told his sister to go to her room and not come out. He grabbed the phone and dialed 911.
The rest of the night was a haze of ambulances and police officers. He and Jenny were scooped up and taken to the hospital. Later their grandma and grandpa came to pick them up—looks of irritation and exhaustion in their eyes. This wasn’t the first time Sylvia had pulled a stunt like this. She was prone to attempting suicide, and now it was really inconveniencing them.
This was Rick and Jenny’s normal. They didn’t even know how to be scared anymore, because when the scary things happened, numbness took over.
In all this, Rick didn’t think to cry out to God for help. He knew about God but was never convinced He would be of any help. And why should he have to ask, after all? He was just a kid. Shouldn’t God’s help be a given?
For Jenny, the numbness meant not even remembering some of the things that had happened—almost eliminating the trauma from her mind. But for Rick they remain clear as crystal, replaying over and over at the worst moments.
The memories would flash back when a certain song popped up on Pandora, especially before he gave up drinking regularly. Dancing at home or even at a wedding caused him to shut down as well. That’s what Sylvia used to do when she was drinking—force him to slow dance with her to the music.
For a long time, he couldn’t stand for any woman he was in a relationship with to go to a bar with friends because that made him think of his mother’s behavior at bars.
Still, a Tony-free life was a blessing for Rick because he no longer feared the abuse his mom would take. Though she still came home with random men, the screaming was less, and the drama seemed lighter. Things were a little more “normal”—whatever that was.
Normal for an eight-year-old who had never lived normal a day in his life.
CHAPTER 15
JAMES
After the string of husbands, short-term boyfriends, and Tony, who was in a category all his own, Sylvia met someone with some staying power. His name was James, and he turned out to be a saving grace for Rick and Jenny.
Not surprisingly, James and Sylvia met in a bar. It was around this time that Sylvia’s parents decided to move to the warmer climate of Arizona. Shortly after, Sylvia and James followed with the kids, and Arizona would be where Rick spent the remainder of his childhood. The two drank too much and fell into a tumultuous relationship that, like the others, would include drugs, cheating, and no doubt neglect of the children. This guy was different, however, because he actually liked Rick and Jenny and began to care about their well-being.
James paid attention to Rick and Jenny. He threw a baseball with Rick and roughhoused with him. And he had a silly, fun personality that both kids enjoyed, especially when it involved poking good fun at Sylvia— pinching her rear end and making stupid farting noises. This usually irritated her, but the kids loved it. And for Rick, having James around meant there was an older guy in his life, taking care of him in some kind of emotional way. You can imagine the delight he must have taken in this.
James had hi
s own problems with substances, but they didn’t prevent him from being a good person who could think beyond the scope of those vices. He recognized that Rick and Jenny mattered, and that recognition ultimately kept him trapped for far too long with a woman he never should have been with. He originally fell for Sylvia, but it was Rick and Jenny who stole his heart.
Talking to James today, you’d never guess there was a “good” part of his relationship with Sylvia. He can’t explain why he stuck around a woman so awful for eleven years—except for the two innocent children with whom he’d come to share fear, loathing, and shame. Though he partied and drank with Sylvia, he also felt a responsibility to the kids and protected them. Jenny believes he was like a “guardian angel” who took abuse on their behalf over and over.
As she had done with so many others, Sylvia had seduced James with some sort of inexplicable charm. She was clearly a master manipulator, sinking her claws into someone and holding on for dear life. A naive young man of only nineteen, James was flattered by the attention of a beautiful older woman—Sylvia was twenty-nine or thirty when they met—who could outdrink him any night of the week. She was unpredictable and exciting, up for anything. He was caught before he even knew what was happening—not realizing that two kids would soon rely on him for what their mother couldn’t give them.
“No kid should have to go through what they went through, ever on this earth. They lived in [misery] the whole time,” James told me two decades after he cut ties with Sylvia. “I could have left her, but they weren’t allowed to run away. I think that’s what kept me there. . . . I was allowed to run away and never come back . . . but that would make me a coward.”
As James describes it, it was three against one in that rundown trailer home: he and the kids versus Sylvia. She could be “mean as sin,” and alcohol fueled the fire. But there was more than alcohol involved, he believes. He believes some of it was a mental illness, and some of it was fueled by the Devil himself.
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