by Gary Beck
Winter was particularly harsh that year; Peter had adjusted his schedule at the radio station so he could take care of the baby, while Beth could finish the school semester. When he came home at night, they only had a few hours until Beth had to go to sleep, but the comfort of the snug nest and the joys of the hatchling were wonderful. It was hard for them to believe that they had found happiness without more of a struggle, but they gladly accepted it. Their way of life would have been very satisfying, except for their economic worries. The baby’s expenses were cheerfully dealt with. The diabolical Ford machine was another story. One week it was new shock absorbers, the next it was the tires, followed a few weeks later by brakes and radiator. It always seemed to be something that required expensive replacement, rather than simple adjustment. Peter would rant and rave about the fiends at Ford who designed a car to malfunction just to plague him and almost work himself into a frenzy. Beth would pacify baby number one and peace would prevail, until the car broke down again.
Beth coaxed Peter through all their tribulations, and they watched Jennifer grow from an adorable infant into a demanding person. Jennifer had started parent training with yowls, howls, coos and gurgles. The innovation of ambulatory arms and legs allowed gesturing and pointing. But she started talking and commanding simultaneously. Jennifer and Peter clashed on the battlefield of wills and Peter was vanquished. He obeyed his domineering daughter’s every whim. He was shocked when Beth teasingly called him ‘pussy whipped’ and offered puny excuses and limp rationalizations to explain his attitude, but they both knew he was enslaved. By the time Jennifer was two she ruthlessly controlled her daddy. Beth never tolerated her daughter’s unreasonable demands, or misbehavior and they quickly reached an understanding. Peter, who had developed emotional postures to get him through school, work and relationships, was completely unprepared for the demands of a child. He had no idea how to deal with her and Jennifer took full advantage of every opportunity. She ruled him with a fist of iron and no matter how much he squirmed or protested he always gave in. Fortunately, Beth maintained a fair balance and protected an endangered species: daddy sapiens.
Peter had arranged his vacation schedule to start right after the school year. They rented a small cottage on Drummond Island, which they remembered fondly from their honeymoon, and roughed it for two fun weeks. Except for Peter’s poison ivy, Jennifer’s attempts to conquer the lake whenever their backs were turned and snake scares, it was a delightful interlude. They returned to the voracious city that devoured its citizens in its industrial jaws, refreshed and ready to improve their existence. Peter got a small raise and began announcing the evening news from six to ten. Beth tried harder to accept the horrors at school; drug abuse, gang violence, teen pregnancy, more than half the students dropping out and the terrible waste of young people, many of whom could have contributed to our implacable society. She stopped sending memos to the principal requesting AIDS and pregnancy prevention classes. She stopped pestering the music department chairman to drop some of the banal classics from the curriculum that bored her as much as the students.
He tactfully ignored her parting comment, "If I have to listen to ‘The Flight of the Bumble Bee’ one more time…" But she continued counseling any of her students who she could reach personally and that kept her going for the year.
CHAPTER THREE
The summer of funerals started with the death of Beth’s parents. They were driving home from the movies one evening when they were forced off the road by a drunk driver, who didn’t bother to stop. Their car rolled, crashed into a tree and the impact crushed her dad’s chest on the steering wheel. Her mother went through the windshield and the glass severed an artery. She bled to death before help arrived. Beth had put her parents in an emotional niche that she intended to deal with someday. The shock of their unexpected deaths reminded her of the fragility of things, and she resolved not to neglect her feelings for Peter. She saw her brothers, their wives and children for the first time in years. She went through all the rituals of grief with them, but they were a family of strangers, brought together for a moment by dread death, then gone, hardly touching, long removed from the bond of caring. Beth was glad to get back to the city of indifference that was never concerned with its citizen’s feelings.
They were just getting back to their daily routine, when Peter’s father died of a heart attack. He was only fifty-seven and he continued a family curse. His father and brothers suffered fatal heart attacks before they reached sixty. Peter was torn between a sense of loss and panic that he would die young. Beth couldn’t shake him out of his mood, and he moped during most of the drive. He perked up when they got to East Lansing.
"Let’s visit M.S.U. on the way back."
"Anything to get you out of this funk," Beth said.
The torrential rain at the small cemetery cut the ceremony short. There were only a handful of people and Peter’s mother was remote from the few sympathizers, already receding from this bewildering life. They stayed overnight, then made their farewells to the fading woman. Peter promised to come back and dispose of his father’s things. When they got to the campus it seemed smaller and sterile. They felt absolutely no nostalgia.
Back in Detroit they waited for the next tragedy. Their apprehensions were realized when Peter’s mother, in a state of depression, took an overdose of sleeping pills and quietly resigned from this untranquil life. His parent’s shabby possessions were discarded, except for a few old photographs and they thought the procession of death was over. Then Peter’s only friend, Bill, who had introduced him to Beth in college, was stabbed to death in a mugging on a Detroit street. They attended Bill’s funeral, wondering who would be next and Peter brooded morbidly that it would be him. It took a while for him to get over the last loss. Beth’s steady support and the need to monitor Jennifer’s every move kept him functional. What brought him back to wellbeing was Beth’s announcing that she was pregnant again. The idea of continuity through their children seemed to soothe his troubled spirit and his appreciation of life improved dramatically.
The birth of their son Andrew in the spring of 1998 distracted them from the growing problems in the neighborhood, but not for long. Disputes between rival gangs invaded their once safe street. Drive-by shootings by dissatisfied customers of the drug dealers who were trying to open new markets occurred more often. The polluters who accompany drugs: pimps, prostitutes, muggers, gangbangers, apprentices of evil, and all the other violent despoilers spilled their filth on another city sanctuary. The police and politicians were unwilling to battle the tide of crime. Community activists were assaulted and intimidated. Decent black and white families, unable to endure the decay of their neighborhood, began to move. Government services diminished. Houses deteriorated. Streetlights were broken and not repaired. Garbage overflowed into the street for grateful rats. Urban blight spread and as the year ended darkness spread across the land of the working poor.
Several confrontations with ‘Big M’ and his crew convinced Beth and Peter that it was time to move. Their downstairs neighbor, Millie Schwenka, who had become Beth’s good friend, packed her family and moved after a gang member attempted to molest her eleven-year-old daughter. Other good neighbors, including most of Beth’s piano pupils, felt threatened and moved. Beth and Peter searched frantically for an apartment in an acceptable neighborhood, but they couldn’t find anything affordable. Finally, in desperation, when they no longer felt safe going in or out of their building, they moved back to Mrs. Barzuska’s rooming house. She was delighted to welcome them back and rapidly became a doting, grandmother-like figure to the children. Beth, of course, was immediately re-recruited for the entertainment committee and Mrs. Barzuska generously had the piano tuned. The only benefit for Beth after losing her pupils was that she now had time to practice.
They took over a connecting room for the children, but it was still cramped, even though most of their things were in storage. Mrs. Barzuska went out of her way to make them feel at home a
nd they were comfortable enough, despite living on top of each other. They had no luck in finding another apartment, but Beth was able to convince Peter to make the most of their circumstances. The neighborhood was secure, they could get to work easily and they didn’t worry about going for a walk with the children. More than a year went by without their having a definite plan for the future. They were never able to save money, but they were happy. Jennifer celebrated her fourth birthday and soon after Andrew was two years old. The rapid growth of the children astonished Peter and he brooded about how to improve his family’s way of life. He discussed his concerns with Beth, and they decided to implement a weekly savings plan to amass enough money for an apartment. They started with the best intentions, but the children always needed something, and unexpected expenses occurred. Then they received devastating news. At the end of the school year, Beth was informed that due to budget constraints, the music program would be cut back and she would be out of a job.
As the year 2000 approached, Beth and Peter didn’t pay much attention to the Y2K panic. They weren’t in debt, but they couldn’t improve their financial situation. They considered taking out a loan to pay for an apartment, but they were reluctant to risk the liability. Their best hope was that Beth would get a teaching job in another school, but that was uncertain. They had a quiet New Year’s Eve celebration that didn’t include the end of the world. Then they received the final blow to their domestic stability. The public radio station was unable to raise enough funds for their next fiscal year, which would start September 1st. They concluded that they would have to let some employees go according to seniority and Peter was among those selected for dismissal. He would be employed until August 31st, but after that his position would be officially terminated. The other to-be-discharged employees were as upset as he was and demanded that management retain them. This was refused, but in the ensuing discussion, management agreed to let them cash in their vacation pay and to provide medical coverage until November 30th.
Beth and Peter’s situation, which had been difficult, was now approaching a crisis. The only job that Beth was offered was playing piano for strippers at a seedy nightclub. She took one look at the joint and left. She got a temporary gig playing for the lunchtime crowd at a bank, but that only lasted a few weeks. She put posters up in the neighborhood advertising for pupils, but she didn’t get any responses. Peter applied for corporate jobs in sales and publicity but was told he didn’t have the ‘right drive’ for the job. He registered with several employment agencies, but they were unable to place him. Mrs. Barzuska was aware of their problems and stopped charging them rent. Their only expenses were food and miscellaneous, so they were able to manage for a while, once his job ended. He started inquiring at the nearby supermarket and nearby chain stores for an assistant manager or trainee position, with no success. He was either over or under qualified.
Peter was getting discouraged and the prospect of working in a fast food place flipping burgers was depressing him. Beth tried to make him see the bright side of things; the children were a treasure and they had their health, but he was moody, lethargic and withdrawn. She wasn’t sure how to deal with him, when help unexpectedly arrived. One of the executives at the radio station, with more of a conscience than the unconcerned types of the corporate world, sent Peter a notice of positions available at the public radio station in Washington, D.C. and New York City. He stirred from his torpor, sent out his resume and spun pleasant fantasies about life in Washington, D.C, his city of choice. He actually printed out maps of the city on the internet and prepared itineraries to the notable monuments. When he didn’t hear from the station right away, he began to sink back into apathy. A month went by and he got a letter of rejection from Washington, D.C., but before he could really dissolve into depression, he was hired by the New York City public radio station. They couldn’t afford to travel as a family and then stay at a hotel until they found someplace to live, so they decided that Peter would go ahead alone and find an apartment for them.
CHAPTER FOUR
Peter left the arrival gate at Newark airport and walked through the terminal with the feeling that everyone was rushing to a destination with a sense of purpose, except him. He took the bus to Manhattan, the cheapest transportation and idly looked at the dreary New Jersey landscape, a combination of industrial drabness and suburban decline. He nervously clutched the piece of paper in his pocket with the address of the YMCA, where he would live until he got an apartment. When he had told Beth that he was worried about finding a temporary place to live, she phoned the local Y and they recommended a branch on Manhattan’s east side. He thought about how Beth anchored their existence and how secure he felt with her and started to feel sorry for himself. He snapped out of his mood when he got the first glimpse of the Manhattan skyline. He pressed his face against the window in wonder. The buildings were so big. And there were so many of them. He couldn’t help but muse that surely no one had ever built like this before. He appreciated that the visionaries of a great city had conquered the land and constructed the nests of man out of stone, concrete, metal and glass, defying all limits set by nature.
The bus came out of the Lincoln tunnel and the streets of midtown Manhattan were disquieting. The frantic hustle and bustle was mind boggling. People competed with cars, trucks, taxis, buses and bicycles for space in the congested hive. Peter got off the bus at 42nd Street and Park Avenue completely disoriented. The blare of horns, the screech of brakes, the roar of engines and the clamor of urgent voices was an assault on his senses. He felt dwarfed by the massive buildings and intimidated by the swarm of intent people, avidly hurrying somewhere. Everyone seemed to be staring at him as if he was a freak, a weirdo, or some kind of nut who lost his medication. He wanted to explain that he was sane, a productive member of society, a good father and husband, but he saw that the stream of racing bodies would not pause to listen. He stepped back against the wall, took out his map of the daunting city and tried to figure out a route to the Y.M.C.A.
He found Lexington Avenue without being jostled or cursed at more than three or four times. He walked uptown just as the lunchtime crowds poured out of the stone hives like maddened insects. The tide seemed to be flowing downtown, so he struggled along against it, apologizing for bumping into people, who snarled or ignored him. He was battered but unbowed when he reached the haven of the Y.M.C.A. It didn’t take long to register and within a few minutes he was in his room. It wasn’t much larger than a jail cell, but the walls were a cheerful light yellow, the furniture was functional and most important, it was clean. There was a small sink in one corner and the clerk had told him that there were communal toilets and showers down the hall. He unpacked his meager belongings and didn’t feel quite ready to hazard the juggernaut streets, so he lay down on the bed and drifted into a restless sleep. He dreamed that a menacing band of strangers was hunting him. They pressed closer, surrounding him, hemming him in. Just as they were about to reach him, he woke up in a cold sweat.
Peter was getting hungry, so he rinsed his face and decided to go into the friendless city. The desk clerk told him about a coffee shop a few blocks away, where the food was edible and reasonably priced. Carefully following directions, he found the Parthenon diner and ordered a complete chicken dinner for $7.95. His fellow epicures didn’t look particularly happy and paid no attention to the lonely voyager. He finished eating, paid the check and left a 20% tip for the waiter, who had pleasantly served him. When he got outside it had become cold and the streets were mostly deserted. He gaped at the Chrysler building for a while, stopping at each corner to look back at the elegant structure, shimmering in the reflected light of office windows. He couldn’t see the top of the building until he got to 49th Street, but then the jagged V’s of light, pointing to the tarnished sky, filled him with wonder at the scale of man’s creation.
He started work the next day and quickly fell into a routine. He ate breakfast at the Parthenon diner, walked to work, walked back to the Parthen
on for dinner, then retired to his room. On his third evening at the Y he was offered casual sex by a very polite man in the shower room. After that, he got up earlier in the morning for his ablutions to avoid ambassadors of good will. His job performance was satisfactory, and he only got one rebuke for inserting a filler item from a mid-western newspaper that amused him. It was about a sixty-year-old man who seduced a fourteen-year-old girl by telling her that he was a spaceman from another planet, and that sex with him would give her immunity from disease. He wisely avoided pointing out his supervisor’s lack of appreciation for a good human-interest story and continued his duties efficiently. He spent Thanksgiving alone and the holiday special at the Parthenon Diner wasn’t consoling.
A few days later, one of his colleagues mentioned to Peter that he was leaving the city for a year and wanted to sublet his four-room apartment on East 8th Street, between Avenue C and D. He invited Peter to see the place and they reached an agreement starting the first of the year. The man said he was going to stay with his parents before he left, and that Peter could have the apartment as of December 15th. Beth was jubilant when she heard the news and dove into preparations for the exciting move. When Peter met her and the children at the airport, they fell into each other’s arms like reunited exiles. Beth immediately took charge of their lives and Peter began to feel secure for the first time in months. Christmas was the best time they ever had together. They bought extravagant presents for the children and themselves and rediscovered the pleasures of being a family again. Peter’s job was satisfactory, and Beth arranged for Jennifer to start school in January. They had a lot to be thankful for as the troubled year 2000 drew to a close with a major snowstorm that briefly covered the city of greed in a purifying veil of white.