Lakewood

Somewhere in all this mess, we moved to Lakewood, Ohio. My parents bought a house and I guess this was to perpetrate "the dream." Our house was huge. I do not mean expensive, rich people huge. I mean, built in the early 1900's huge. Lakewood is full of homes like these. Two story homes with four or five bedrooms, a full attic and full basement and large front porches. I was in the middle of my second grade year when we moved here, and coming from the duplex, this seemed like a mansion! I got to pick the room I wanted, and well, it was a fairly easy choice. Apparently the people that lived here before had a boy and a girl as well, and my room had Strawberry Shortcake border. I loved it. This was to be my hideaway. My refuge.
I had a pretty cool bed as a kid too. It was a canopy bed, and it was all done up in pink. My whole room was pink, even the carpet. Almost as if my parents were trying to CONVINCE me I was a girl! The one thing I remember vividly is that my closet was narrow and long. I could walk into the back of it and sit on the floor. This was usually my hiding place during hide and seek games with my brother. I sometimes would pretend this was the wardrobe from "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe." I just knew that one time I would jump in there and be whisked away into a magical place of freedom, where I would ride away on a lion and rule the land of Lisa forever.

Fear

I wonder sometimes looking back if I really knew at such a young age what being"owned" meant. I'm quite sure that I probably didn't. What I did know was that my mind and body lived in a constant state of fear, and I always had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. You know the feeling when you get caught doing something that you shouldn't be? That was me, everyday. The problem with this was that I never ever knew what I would get in trouble for. For instance, I threw an eaten corn cob into the garbage can without a bag, and I got beat pretty bad with my dad's tennis shoe. To this day, 35 years later, I have an issue with bag less garbage cans. Fear can manifest itself in so many ways, that you will eventually forget that you were afraid in the first place. You wake up one day angry at the world and all the fear has been displaced by food, liquor, sex and whatever else you can grab hold of. Anything to keep you feeling the "disconnection" to your true self will satisfy your anger.

Owned

It was at this point in my life I realized that I was not a "part" of something. I didn't fit into any piece of a familial puzzle, or collage. I was just a being placed on this earth for the entertainment of others. This is when the disconnection between myself and my emotions started. When I think back to this time, it reminds me of an engine's kill switch. My brain's kill switch turned off. I was repeatedly hurt by this man who called himself my father, and yet it all was acceptable to me because my switch of normalcy had been disengaged. I don't really know too much more about living on Aldene except that good old Susie and I had one last good fight. I was roller skating, on the old metal skates at that. For those of you unaware of what I mean, these skates basically looked like a cookie sheet with wheels on them. They clinked and clanked against the concrete like a hammer being smashed against brick. However, I loved skating. Susie and I had words of some sort and she pushed me down, and because of the skates, I went straight down to the ground, face first. I hit my head on the concrete and ended up with a concussion. Honestly, I have no recollection of what occurred after this, and I suppose in the grand scope of things it doesn't really matter. What I know about this is the same as what I knew then about my father. Anyone who wanted to, could hurt me and do as they wished with me without fear of retribution or me fighting back. I was not, or at least did not feel as if I was my own person. Once my father put me against that wall, he OWNED me. I realized by not fighting back with Susie, that I was facing a world that seemed to want to own me as well.

The Other Thing

The look in my dad's eye's was evident. The feeling in my gut was wrenching. I knew what was coming. I felt as if all of the air in my lungs had just been sucked out and my entire body became very warm. I began to shake on the inside. You know that type of fear that grabs hold of your skeleton bones and rattles them throughout your whole body? That's what was happening to me right then and there. He said, "so, you stole some gum huh?" I considered for a fleeting moment lying. It didn't matter, he wouldn't believe me anyways. I looked at my mother who just sat stoically on the couch. She knew all too well what was to happen next. To my bewilderment however, dad said, "I will give you a choice. You can get your ass beat or the other thing." Now, any of you who have kids will find this an easy choice. I did not know what the other thing was, and I didn't care. I had been beaten for years now and knew anything was better then that. Be very careful what you believe to be true. That is what I learned here. I told my dad I wanted the other thing. He told me to go stand in the corner by the door and face him. Wow, ok, I can do this. Then he told me to take off my clothes. How foolish I was to think "the other thing" was going to be easier to take than his belt, or shoe or whatever else he could grab. I took off my clothes and stood in the corner. I tried to put my hands over my lower area, and I will never forget his words, "no, put your hands above your head." I stood there, baring my body and soul and at that moment he owned me. I was completely and utterly defeated. I will always remember my mom's word's as well, "Sonny, close the door." See, I was standing by the front door and people could have easily seen inside. He sat on the couch and stared at me as I stood against the wall, my hands above my head, my heart and soul crushed beneath his cold dirty drunk hand.

Karen

Karen was a babysitter that I had when I lived on Aldene. I'm not really sure how old she was. I know she had blond hair, and was, on the surface a very nice girl. I felt a sort of closeness to her that I had not felt with anyone before. I was completely unaware of why I felt this way towards her, as I had not known her very long. One day she said she would take me to the store with her. I was more than happy to go with her. I can remember walking through the parking lot of the plaza holding Karen's hand, and feeling an inner smile. I was happy, carefree for the moment. We went into the store, and Karen went off to find whatever she was looking to buy. I found myself reeling in amazement at all the wonderful and vibrantly colored candy bars and packs of gum on display. I picked up a small pack of gum, and without hesitation, decided that it was to be mine, and slipped it in my pocket. As we were walking out of the store, I took the gum out of my pocket, and showed Karen. To my shock, she was pissed. She was so angry at me, and this frightened me. I was worried on many levels at this point. I worried of losing that feeling of closeness with her because she was mad at me, and petrified of her telling my dad. However, I became completely enamored of Karen when she said to me, "take the gum back and I won't tell." I ran for my life. I opened the front doors of the grocery store, and I threw the pack of gum back into the store. I ran as fast as I could back to Karen so that I could tell her I listened to what she said and was good again. She said, "good girl." She played with me for the rest of the day until my dad came home, and I was sad to see her go, but knew she would be back tomorrow. I couldn't wait. Karen took my dad out on the porch and they talked for a bit, and then she left. Two things stick out in my mind here. Karen was a liar, and she was truly unaware of the trauma she had just caused. In all the years since this incident I have hated her for the betrayel and lie, yet I have come to realize that she never fully knew what her telling on me had done.

Aldene III/George Jr.

At this point in time, George Jr was 4 or 5 years old. I do not know where in the landscape of my memories he hid, but during this time of my life, he is not there. Later in my life, I would wish for him to disappear, but not at this moment. This should have been a time for connecting and bonding with my brother, and starting a friendship that would last a lifetime. To this day, the idealism of this close knit sibling bond plagues me. Plagues me, because it would never come to fruition. Yet still, I am searching my mind for this little boy who at the time, had not yet hurt me or taken on the distinct personality of my father. At such a young age, was I so consumed with myself that I didn't really care about him? Did he feel this from his older sister, hence the beginning of a severely broken and unforgiving relationship?
There are many moments throughout my life that George Jr is there and can be seen very clearly. He is, or was, the source of much rage and anger inside of me for most of my life. My concern is still the little boy George. Someday maybe I will see you, and I will see the George I always dreamed about, better yet, the BROTHER I dreamed about.

Aldene II

I heard them all crash down on the floor. He, Sonny, my dad, cleared the table of all the luminaries I had worked on so hard. I then heard my mother say, "those are Lisa's, not mine." My dad did not care. At least that is what he yelled at the time. "I don't give a shit about these fucking cans!" I remember that as a defining moment for me. Yes, I was young, but I knew he didn't care about me. I realized I was not important to him. He began stomping on the luminaries and kicking them across the room, and my mother was begging him to stop. I have no idea how that night ended for the two of them. I know for myself, I cried silently in my bed. I think it was for many reasons. My project possibly was ruined, I had not seen them yet. My parent's fighting, my feelings of complete loneliness, and fear. I was always afraid. I think even of my own shadow.
I am struck by the fact that we lived in this house and I remember a few moments that shaped my life, but I have no recollection whatsoever of my little brother being anywhere around. As hard as I try to close my eyes and take myself back, I can't see him there. Where are you George Jr.?