Michael had accidentally overseen her paying rent to the landlord. It was late one night when he was supposed to be sleeping. He had quietly slipped out of bed to get a drink of water to soothe his sore throat. He paused at the doorway when he heard a grunting sound, a low baritone series of moans. He peeked over and saw the landlord, Mr. Oteri, standing in front of the refrigerator with his pants down to his ankles. His mother was on her knees before him, her head bobbing within his hairy crotch, lost below his enormous belly. Michael’s eyes widened. He knew he should turn away and run to his room, but he watched until Mr. Oteri grabbed a hold of his mother’s dark hair and thrust himself deeper into her as he cried out in climactic release. Michael could see his fluids dripping down the side of his mother’s mouth. Michael should have been disgusted. Yet, he found himself oddly aroused. After he crept back to his room, he had his own climactic release.
Things quickly went downhill from there. His mother, who often brought home various boyfriends and “good friends,” met one particular lowlife, Eddie, who introduced her to the destructive life of heroin addiction. His mother stopped working—at least at the diner—and found more and more creative ways to support her drug habit.
One night, when Michael was barely fourteen years old, his mother entered his bedroom with a short, stocky Hispanic man. She was clearly high on drugs. Usually she kept to herself and allowed him to fend for himself, which he preferred.
“What is it, Mom, I’ve got homework to do,” he said, annoyed by the intrusion.
“Hey Champ,” the curly-haired man said playfully.
Who the hell is this guy and why is he in my room?
Michael eyed him suspiciously, believing him to be a fellow junkie, probably scoping out his room for something to steal.
“Mikey, this is Carlo, he wanted to meet you,” his mother said flatly.
“Me? Why?”
“He likes boys,” she replied with a disinterested shrug.
“I don’t under—”
“He wants you to suck his—”
“What?! No! Get out of here, get out my room!” His adolescent voice cracked.
Michael rose from his bed to shove them out of his room. His mother put up her hands, gesturing for him to relax and listen to what she had to say. Michael was outraged. How could his mother bring some guy—this creep—into his room and offer her son to him?
“Give us a second, Carlo,” Michael’s mother said to the grinning man. He stepped out of the room and waited outside the door. He could hear their conversation.
“Mikey, I—”
“You need to leave, Ma, I’m not doing it, you can’t make me, you can’t—”
Michael was rapidly growing hysterical.
“I’m sick, I need my stuff, Mikey, I need it. He doesn’t want me, he wants you.”
Michael was overcome with waves of nausea. He felt sick to his stomach. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He shook his head adamantly.
“Please, please, Mikey, just this one time, it’s not that bad....”
“No, no, I can’t, I won’t,” he protested.
“Quit being such a princess,” his mother shouted. She was angry now. How dare her son defy her? She never asked anything of him. The one time she needed him, he was trying to turn his back on her.
“I’m not asking you to do it, I’m telling you. You think this room is free? You think the food is free? If you don’t do it, get your crap together and get the hell out!”
Michael was on the verge of tears. He knew his mother was not rational. He would not be able to reason with her, to beg her to reconsider her incredibly disturbing demands. She was a drug addict and he was just another thing to sell for her hit. He barely had any feelings for her before. Now he downright despised her.
“You’ll do it, Michael,” his mother insisted, “you have no choice...I own you.”
If only Michael had a place to go, a friend’s house, a relative’s home, he would never have done what he did a few minutes later when his mother invited Carlo back into his room.
With a big, creepy grin on his face, Carlo lowered his pants and waited for the weeping, repulsed teen-aged boy to comply.
The longest minutes of Michael’s life passed as he was forced to do the unspeakable act as his mother stood beside him and watched. When he was done, he ran to the bathroom to throw up and brushed his teeth for nearly an hour, drinking half a bottle of mouthwash afterward.
Carlo found the encounter greatly amusing.
“He’ll get used to it,” Michael heard him tell his mother. Michael was certain he wouldn’t. His mind was made up…he would never let anyone make him feel so powerless, so violated. The innocent, quiet, easy-going Michael Greyson died that night.
Apparently, Carlo was pleased with him. He returned a few nights later. Without knocking, his mother entered his room, Carlo following behind her with that same creepy grin on his face.
“Look who’s back,” she said in a sing-song voice, as though she were presenting him with a treat.
Michael stood up swiftly, his face turning beet red as he fumed with rage.
“GET OUT OF MY ROOM!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, causing his mother to jump back.
Carlo continued to grin, amused by the drama unfolding before him.
“What?” she screamed in reply. “Don’t you ever—”
Before she could finish her sentence, Michael shoved her so violently into Carlo that the stocky man slammed into the door jamb. His mother, weighing little more than a hundred pounds, lost her balance and fell to the floor.
“BOTH OF YOU GET OUT OF MY ROOM OR I’LL CALL THE COPS,” he threatened.
Carlo’s grin faded.
“What the hell,” he said to Michael’s mother, angrily, “I’m not going back to prison.”
Carlo turned and left the room. Michael could hear his heavy footsteps descending the stairs followed by the front door slamming moments later. He looked at his mother, motionless on the floor. He didn’t intend to hurt her he just wanted her out of his room.
He walked over and held his hand out to her, offering his assistance. With unexpected speed and strength, she sat up and began hitting and punching him. He stepped back to avoid her blows.
“You good for nothing piece of shit, you cost me fifty dollars,” she sobbed.
Michael kept his distance and eventually his mother’s violent fit ceased as she whimpered on the floor of his room.
Without saying another word, she stood and left the room. It was the last time she involved Michael in her money-making trysts. From that day on, she became even more distant toward Michael. He was left to fend for himself completely. He found an off-the-books job at a local deli and bought meals with the meager wages he earned. He continued to attend school until he was sixteen. By then he had met Kathy Nicholls, a co-worker who was nearly three years older. She was a first-year college student who worked part-time at the deli. Michael became infatuated by her the first moment he saw her. She had wavy blonde hair, hazel eyes, full red lips and an amazing hourglass figure. At five feet, eight inches tall, she could have easily been a model if she so desired.
Perhaps it was because Michael looked older than he was, perhaps because he seemed dark and disturbed, or perhaps just because he was incredibly good-looking, Kathy was likewise immediately attracted to him. It wasn’t long before they began hanging out whenever their schedules allowed.
Kathy shared a small apartment with another female student. Within months of their meeting, Michael had unofficially moved in and the roommate had moved out. Not long thereafter, Kathy discovered that she was pregnant. She fully intended to terminate the pregnancy.
“What?” Michael exclaimed when she informed him about her decision, “how can you even think of doing such a thing?” He was outraged by her nonchalance and determination to murder their unborn baby.
“I can’t have a baby,” she argued, “I have to finish school.”
“You can raise a baby
and still go to school.”
“Are you nuts? A baby is a huge responsibility.”
“Then I’ll take care of it.”
“You can’t even take care of yourself!”
Kathy didn’t mean to insult him but in her overly-hormonal state, she wasn’t all-too concerned about cushioning his feelings. It was the first time she had seen the crazed look in his eyes. She had never felt nervous or unsafe in his presence until that point. She took a step back, unsure if he was going to get physical.
Kathy’s reaction and withdrawal disrupted his escalating tension and he gently reached his hand out to her. Kathy kept her distance, still bothered by the drastic transformation that had overcome him, albeit temporarily.
“C’mon, babe, I just don’t want you to get an abortion. That’s our baby in there.” He motioned to Kathy’s flat abdomen.
“Mike, I’m just not ready for this...I can’t—”
Michael held her hands in his.
“But we can. Trust me, we’ll make it work. I want this baby.”
It sounded sweet enough, but his tense, frigid facial expression undermined his compassionate pleas. Kathy knew what he meant: “I want this baby, you’re having this baby, end of discussion.”
Kathy said nothing. Her mind was already made up. She wouldn’t argue any further with Michael. Instead, she would wait a few weeks and take care of it herself, without his knowledge or support.
Kathy waited two weeks exactly. Then, when she should have been in class, she was at the clinic. The procedure took less time than she had expected and was more uncomfortable than painful. She felt no remorse. She had made an adult decision; it was the best thing to do...the right thing to do. She couldn’t let a baby interfere in her plans to become a teacher. She missed two classes but attended the third. She said nothing to Michael about what she had done.
Months went by. Her abdomen seemed flatter than ever. Michael grew increasingly suspicious. One night, after Kathy had returned home from school, he confronted her.
“What did you do?” he asked accusingly. The same crazed expression pervaded his face.
“What are you talking about?” she replied, nervously, though she knew exactly what he was talking about.
“You went and did it, didn’t you? You had an abortion...you killed our baby!”
It was no longer a question. It was an assertion. Kathy started to deny it, but her face gave her away.
“Shut up!” he shouted with such fury, Kathy took a step back.
“How could you do such a thing? How could you?”
“I...I...” Kathy broke down and cried, not for what she had done, not because of any feelings of guilt, but simply because she was now terrified by Michael’s reaction. He was seething with rage.
“You’ll live to regret this day,” he promised, and stormed out of the apartment.
Kathy wiped the tears from her face. As far as she knew she had gotten off easy. She had expected him to lash out and assault her.
Days went by and Kathy neither saw nor heard from Michael. He had quit his job at the deli and was nowhere to be found. Kathy truly missed him, but also feared his absence. What did it mean? Would he show up suddenly and hurt her? She didn’t know why she felt so apprehensive. He had a temper, yes, but he had never hit or hurt her before. It was just...just that damn crazed expression that she had seen upon his face. She didn’t quite know why, but that look frightened her. It was a warning she knew better than to ignore.
As weeks went by, Kathy became more and more paranoid, looking over her shoulders as she walked toward the apartment late at night. Michael had warned that she would regret her actions. She knew it was no idle threat. It was only a matter of time before he made her pay for what she had done.
Months went by and Kathy was getting used to life without Michael, whom she figured had gone on with his own life. She was more at ease now. Her paranoid behaviors ceased. She even thought about dating again. One of her classmates, Phillip Mentz, had suggested a couple of times that they grab a bite to eat after class. She had turned him down, making excuses each time. Michael had always been in the back of her mind. He had just left one day and never returned. She didn’t even know how much time had to pass to dissolve a relationship. At first she had wanted him to return, then she expected him to and now it seemed highly unlikely.
Why shouldn’t I go on with my life too, she thought. Phillip was smart, good-looking and funny. There was no denying her attraction to him. So the very next day, after class, Kathy approached him.
“Are you still up for grabbing something to eat?” she asked shyly, awkwardly.
Phillip put on the most serious face he could muster.
“No, it’s too late now, you’ve lost your chance,” he said earnestly.
“Oh...uh, well...” Kathy stammered, as she blushed with embarrassment.
Phillip let out a burst of laughter that caught her off guard.
“I’m just teasing, of course I’m up for it,” he said excitedly.
Kathy smiled and gave Phillip’s shoulder a soft shove.
“You really had me going!”
“You know I’ve been trying to take you out for weeks,” Phillip said as they walked out of the room, “I’m glad you’re done playing hard to get.”
“I wasn’t playing hard to get...I recently got out of a relationship. I wasn’t ready to start dating again.”
“Well I’m glad you’re ready now,” he said with a smile. He really liked Kathy. She was smart and caring, yet there was always a hint of sadness in her eyes. He wanted to change that.
Together they walked to a nearby sandwich shop—a popular place amongst the college crowd. They placed their orders and spoke about their classes as they waited for the food to be prepared. Minutes later they were seated at a small table by the window eating their sandwiches. Kathy couldn’t believe how comfortable she felt around Phillip. He was so easy to talk to. His eyes were warm and caring. There was nothing uneasy about him...unlike Michael. She forced herself not to think about Michael, not to compare the two. Phillip was nothing like Michael.
“Where’d you just drift off to?” Phillip asked softly.
“What? Oh, I...I was just thinking about an assignment that’s due soon.”
Phillip looked doubtful.
“You’re thinking about the ex, aren’t you?”
Kathy shook her head.
“No, not at all, I just—”
“You know, if you want to talk about it, I’m all ears.”
“I appreciate it,” she replied, taking his hand in hers, “I’m totally over him, really. It’s just that he sort of took off, disappeared. I always feel like he’ll just show up again.”
“How long has it been?”
“Almost five months now.”
“Five months? Not for anything, but five months is a long time. Why do you think he’d just show up again after all that time? Do you miss him?”
“No, Phillip, not at all...I’m relieved he’s gone. Toward the end his personality changed, he was...well, kinda scary. It’s just that....”
“Scary? Did he hit you, hurt you?”
“No, no, never,” Kathy responded quickly, “It wasn’t like that.”
“So why are you so afraid of him?”
“Well, I...I always felt that he was capable of hurting me, even though he never did.”
“Oh, well, as long as he never actually hurt you....”
“He sorta threatened me before he left.”
“What did he say?”
“He said I’d regret it.”
“Regret what?”
Kathy wasn’t about to tell Phillip about the abortion. Maybe one day she would confide in him, but not on their first date.
“Who knows?” she shrugged. “He was nuts. It’s all in the past now, right?”
Phillip didn’t want to start dating a girl on the rebound but Kathy’s smile persuaded him that she was truly ready to move on. They finished their sandw
iches and chips over friendly conversation then headed out. It was getting chilly out. Kathy, clad only in a light cotton sweater, shivered. Chivalrous Phillip didn’t have a jacket to offer but he slipped his arm around her and drew her close. He breathed in the light floral scent of her perfume then—BAM! He was on the ground. He didn’t even see it coming, didn’t have a chance to see the figure, the man above him, who was now showering him with painful blows to his face.
“Stop, stop Michael,” Kathy begged desperately when she realized it was him. She reached out to him and he turned and punched her just under her left cheekbone. She fell to the ground, and crawled a few feet away. She kept her distance as she looked around frantically for help. Seeing her trying to flag someone down, Michael turned his attention to Kathy. He lunged toward her, kneeled down in front of her and grabbed the meaty part of her arm forcibly, squeezing it tightly.
“Looking for help, huh?” he shouted angrily.
“Please, Michael, just get out of here.”
“So you can finish your date with your new boyfriend?”
“He’s just a friend,” she cried, trembling, as she held a hand over her bruised cheek.
“Bullshit! I saw how cozy you were in there. I saw how he put his arm around you.”
Phillip was unconscious on the ground, his face bloodied and swollen, barely recognizable. Michael could hear the wail of sirens not too far from there. He released Kathy’s arm and stood up.
“I’ll see you real soon,” he said angrily, and ran off.
Kathy remained frozen in place, trembling in fear. It was not until the first police car pulled up along the curb that she was able to move again. She quickly walked over to Phillip and dropped beside him. She ran her fingers through his blood-spattered hair.
Hillary_Flesh and Blood Page 3