Chapter 21 Free at Last

CHAPTER 21 FREE AT LAST

It was now time for my favorite number two daughter to spread her wings and fly away. The wedding was small and performed at Grandma King’s house. The guest list included winners, losers, and family members. I wished this wedding would get over, after all it was not a wedding filled with pride. It was one of hot pants made legal, and all I wanted was for the entire program to end and let every person go their own separate way. Rachelle, unlike Tren, asked me to give the marriage sermon. I found one of my old marriage sermon outlines and appeased her. I used the illustration of a three-stranded rope, which placed Jehovah as the center twine from which their marriage could draw its strength and stability. At the conclusion, I offered a prayer to bless their union and sent them to the Justice of the Peace to legalize the wedding--she was a beautiful bride wearing her mother’s white laced wedding gown.

Rachelle’s, marriage unlike Tren’s, headed in a negative direction--materially, physically, and spiritually--like feces to a fan--it splattered everywhere and it stunk to high heaven while it drifted back to her husband, Anthony who had now taken a job on the swing shift at The Treasure Cove Pizza Parlor. He started staying out later, and later and telling tails of what the management was having him do, how much they liked him and they were training him for the evening manager's position. I knew he was lying, because as the old saying goes, his lips were moving--he wanted to play games, so let the games begin. I had him over a barrel and he didn’t know it.

I was friends with the owner, who was the son-in-law of my best friend Bob who was the manager and maintenance man. I phoned Bob who was the manager and maintenance man and during the conversation said, "Bob, you just hired a guy by the name of Anthony, what do you think of him?"

"He’s a hard worker. How do you know him?" Bob inquired.

"I hired him to do some work for me about a month ago. He was telling me you are training him for the manager’s position," I continued adding snippets of information while not divulging the entire story.

"Yeah, we’re thinking about giving him a shot at the job. His resume is impressive: night shift manager positions, lead carpenter, and supervisor of a roofing crew."

"Is that right?" It was a rhetorical question and I thought, I wonder why he didn’t tell me about his construction experience?

"If he will just settle down and leave the girls alone. I’ll be happy. He sure is a lady’s man."

"He is?" I asked this time I expected an answer and Bob did not disappoint me.

"He’s been leaving with the cute little blonde waitress every night," Bob said, supplying me with information I wished was not true.

"He has? Wow! He is a little Casanova isn’t he," I responded, "what a character."

"The entire crew knows each other and they get along fine. That is all I can ask for. What they do after they get off duty is none of our business anyway." Bob stated giving me his liberal point of view.

"He said you were working him some long hours--"

"Hell you know me. I don’t work anybody more than four hour per shift. You know if it was not you, I would say keep your nose out of my business," he said laughing. "There is more to this than you are letting on, isn’t it?"

"Yeah, it is," I answered. "That little s. o. b. married Rachelle in a quickie last month."

"Well, well, well, I understand now," Bob, said. "So that is why all the bull shit. You can take what I’m telling you and use it anyway you like; we don’t stock one shop with the others’ inventory. We don’t run out of supplies, and if we did, our supplier would be up here long before we open," he explained.

I opened a can of worms; therefore, I might as well spill my guts from both ends, so I continued keeping Bob busy on the phone as I said, "I knew you didn’t work anybody those kind of hours, but I had to call to make sure before I call him a liar. They are living with us now, but his bags are going to be packed and his ass is going to be gone. You can crap on old Dan, but you can’t rub it in. You know what I mean Bob?" Bob was in for an ear full and I was in for a large long distance phone bill as I continued my lambasting of Anthony, "His shenanigans started after Rachelle told him she was getting a five thousand dollar settlement from a car wreck she had this past summer. After they were married and returned from their honeymoon on the coast, we endorsed the check and gave it to them. He talked Rachelle into buying a pickup truck, and the car dealer into a smaller down payment. They opened a bank account where I bank. We had made a pact to let them stay with us for two months until they saved enough for an apartment. The day he was paid, I asked Rachelle to go to the bank with Trisha to transfer the rent from their account into our special account for them, because we were saving the rent for them to use to get an apartment of their own. Now listen to this, this will show you how devious he is. The teller who opened their account told Rachelle there were not enough funds to cover the withdrawal, because her husband came in earlier and withdrew everything but thirty dollars. When they got home from the bank, Rachelle told us when they went over to visit some friends in Fort Brag; he talked the Big O Tire manager into letting them write a check to cover the new tires, and he made Rachelle sign the check. Now there are not enough funds to cover the tires and you know who is left holding the bag don’t you. That little bastard did not intend to pay for the tires. What’s worse than that, he has put Rachelle in a position of a liar and cheat as well as she could go to jail for it. I wouldn’t trust him with my business funds. Well, anyway Rachelle called him at work and asked him why he took all the money. He told her he opened an account with Wells Fargo in Upperlake where he was working. Guess what, Bob-"

Bob didn’t wait for me to fill him in, "There’s no Wells Fargo up there, Dan."

"That’s right old buddy, and that is what I told Rachelle to tell him. He continued to argue and tell her it just open. He has to be the stupidest person alive to think no one would call him on it. I told Rachelle I had applied for a business loan with Wells Fargo last week and they don’t have a branch in Upperlake. After I relayed that bit of information to her she told him he was a liar and I said I wanted him to bring every cent back within the hour or I was coming up there and taking it," I explained.

"Did he bring it back?" Bob asked.
"You bet your butt he brought it back, and he threw it down on the table with big crocodile tears in his eyes and said, ‘it’s a hell of a note when there is no trust in a family.’ I told him I had been married for over twenty years and I had never found a reason to open another account, and I certainly would not do it without telling my wife. The first obligation a person has is to pay the bills he incurs. He explained he was planning to write Big O and ask to pay for the tires on credit.

"Hell, you don’t do business that way," Bob said.

"I know," I answered, "that is why I told him if they were going to give him credit they would have made him fill out a credit application. I asked him why he made Rachelle sign the check when he was standing there. Guess what he said."

Bob's interest grew as he laughed and said, "I can’t wait to hear."

"He said, ‘You know I just got off probation, and if I had signed the check and there wasn’t any money to cover the check they would send me to jail again.’ Right there and then I knew he wasn’t planning to pay for the tires. I told him he wasn’t much of a man to let or make his wife take a rap for him. Well, anyway that is all I wanted to know Bob. I guess I better let you go. Don’t be a stranger, and watch your cash register." I hung the phone up and turned toward Trisha and Rachelle.

This conversation left Anthony without a leg to stand on and Rachelle packed his clothes and asked me to take her to Upperlake so she could give him his clothes and get the truck. The look upon his face was priceless, as he came out and saw his clothes at the back door and Rachelle in the truck. "What are you doing with my truck," Anthony asked shouting as Rachelle drove off.

I pulled up along side of the loading platform where he was standing and asked, "Whose truck?" Before he could respond I continued, "I believe the four grand was used to buy the truck was Rachelle’s, not yours. You screwed yourself dude. Have a good life."

I was not a stupid person and I knew Anthony may try to take the truck back; therefore, the first act--I bought The Club and locked the truck. The next morning I walked out and looked around, there was something amiss, but I could not put a finger on it. I went back in the house to get a cup of coffee and began pouring the coffee, "A-a-a-a-a-h crap, the truck is gone! Rachelle get your butt out of bed," I shouted, "did you give Anthony the truck last night?"

"Are you crazy, Dad. I wouldn’t do that." Rachelle shouted as she came out of her bedroom.

"How the hell did he get the truck? Didn’t you install the club after you came home last night," I asked trying to sort out my actions after I installed The Club.

"Daddy, I didn’t take the truck to the store last night, I used Mom’s car, because I didn’t want to mess with that lock. You put the club on; did you leave your keys out there," Rachelle retaliated with her own set of questions.

"Do I look stupid? My keys are on the hook where I always put them," I retorted. Rachelle walked over to the hook and said, "Well, Dad if you put them there they must be invisible."

"Good god almighty. Am I stupid, or what?" I ask shouting in a rampage. I rambled on, "I did! I did! I did leave my keys in the lock of the club. God, I am so stupid. If my brains were dynamite, I wouldn’t have enough to blow my nose. Damn, I am so stupid. I hate myself. God, I hate myself. Boy, your mom will never let me live this down. Rachelle, don’t say a word, don’t say a w-o-r-r-r-r-d," I instructed her, "maybe he came in last night and took my keys." I weighed the possibility, and concluded, "No, he wouldn’t be that stupid, would he? Nah, it’s me. How stupid am I? Let me count the ways. One; I have now been screwed out of three months rent, two; lost four thousand dollars, three; I have now given him The Club, free of charge. The ole middle finger indicated the final count as I said, number four; I’m just stupid, that’s all there is to it, I’m just stupid."

"Well, we’re going to get your truck back; I’ll be damn if I’m going to be the butt to his jokes. Call that girl friend of yours who lives in Upperlake," I said as I pointed to the phone.

Rachelle picked up the phone, and began dialing. "Is Darlene in? May I speak to her? This is Rachelle. Thank you." After filling in the details of everything, Rachelle returned the phone to its cradle, and said, "Darlene said Junita, lives on Fifth Street, and she is going to drive over there to see if the truck is there. She will call us back if it is."

It was not long before the phone rang. Rachelle answered the phone and I heard her say, "It is, ok, thank you. We’re on our way. Let’s go Dad," Rachelle said as she turned toward me with a big smile on her face.

"Well, Rachelle it’s eleven o’clock now, Anthony will be getting up and start running around. Let’s wait until Saturday. You guys never got up before twelve. I think we will have better luck if we wait until tomorrow, and get there around seven in the morning while he is still in bed. I don’t want to be messing around there and have him see us then hide the truck before we can get it back, you know what I mean," I said rambling on with somewhat of intelligence.

We turned on Fifth St. several minutes before seven o’clock and eased down the street until we saw the maroon truck parked in the driveway, and before we could get to the truck an older man ask in broken English, "What you want?"

Before I could say anything Rachelle said, "Hi, I’m Anthony’s wife, I came to get my truck."

"You get nothing," he said with a Mexican accent. He turned toward a young boy and motioned toward the second story and shouted, "G-e-e-et Antonio-o-o, pronto!"

The child ran into the house shouting, " Antonio-o-o! Antonio-o-o!"

Anthony opened a window and shouted, "What the fuck are you doing here?" The window slammed shut and the screen door flew open as he came running out the house shouting, "How in the hell did you find me?"

I stepped from the side of the house. "A little bird told us," I said.

"Hell, I didn’t see you Dan," he said with eyes wide opened shocked at seeing me.

"Where are my keys," I asked.

"I don’t have your keys," he answered.

"You are a liar, boy; if you don’t get my keys right now I’m going to beat the hell out of you." I took a step toward him and his eyes widen further as he processed whether to flee or fight. He had never seen me angry until now; so, he tripped as he began back peddling toward the door. In a spurt of energy, I sprang toward him and clutched his tee shirt, but I lost my grip as he fell back through the open door into the living room. The little Mexican stepped in my path. I stopped in my tracks and followed the little Mexican’s instruction. It was a bad form of English, but I got the message ordering me to get of his property before he called the "policio," and that was the word that saved Anthony’s ass and he knew it.

I heard, "Here are the keys," I looked up and they rattled pass my head and made a cloud of dust in front of me, "take the truck and get the hell out of here," he shouted. I picked up the keys and we left with little ado, and two big smiles. It felt good to have everything go right for a change. I took the truck over to Bob’s, and parked it behind their camper.

It was not long before the phone started ringing. Anthony was on the other end. Rachelle for the first couple of weeks told him, "Get lost. I’m not interested. No! No! No!" I was pleased with her attitude dealing with Anthony, because from what I understood, he never had to beg to get a girl in bed. He considered himself a "stud muffin", and it was indeed a pleasure to see him beg Rachelle for a second chance.
I felt Anthony was trying the best he could to get close to Rachelle so he could get the truck. After all, Anthony loved the truck and when he was not working or sleeping, he was on the go. He put over four thousand miles on the truck in the first month. I brought up my idea to Trisha.

She surprise me when she said, "You know, we are getting too much alike, it’s kind of scary. The same thought has been crossing my mind too. I don’t trust him. It is hard to believe Anthony misses Rachelle the way she says he does. I’ve already told her if she goes back with him they would have to find another place to live because we were not going to support them anymore."

"What did she say about that," I asked.

"She said she understood and told him if they got back together what she expected of him," Trisha said.

"Good." I was pleased, and since the house was quite I asked, "Where is Rachelle?" "I was going to tell you Anthony called earlier. He told her," and Trisha made quotation marks in the air, "‘he got a job with his uncle in construction.’ He wanted to talk to her about getting back together and finding a place to live. S-o-o-that is where they are; looking at an apartment. I guess Rachelle will go back to that idiot. You know how most girls are, they can be talked into anything as long as there is an I Love y-o-o-u attached."

Rachelle’s entrance interrupted our conversation. Trisha said, "I didn’t hear you drive up."

"I didn’t. Anthony dropped me off at the top of the hill," Rachelle said making an excuse.

"He did what," I asked as Rachelle proceeded to explain.

"He dropped me off at the top of the hill. He said he was afraid of you, because I told him, when we broke up, if you ever saw him you were going to kick his ass. I guess he believed me; anyway here is the good news," Rachelle said pausing to get our full attention as if she hadn’t already, "I’ll be moving out in two weeks. We found a place to live and it will be ready in two weeks."

That news must have been good to Silas and Warren ears, because they both shouted, "O boy! We get our room back."

Their joy was short lived as I said, "Get out of here." They scattered like tenth generational feral cats. They knew when to aggravate me and when not to, and this was one of the times not to.

I turned back to Rachelle, drew in a deep breath and said, "You mean to tell me you let him have the truck?"

"I had to Dad, he got a job with his uncle and he needed a truck," Rachelle said. "They picked up a siding job in Sacramento, and he has to be there tomorrow."

"I hate to say this Rachelle, but I don’t think he’s planning on living with you. I think all he wanted was to screw you and get the truck back. I think he has done both, hasn’t he," I asked. It was not any of my business, so I didn’t press the issue so I said, "You don’t have to lie to me. You’re a grown woman and you are married; so, you have the right to have sex with him." I reached out and gave her a hug, "I’m just afraid he is going to take you for a ride you will not appreciate. If that happens it is going to break my heart to see you crushed again." My voice changed from a loving father into a self-righteous person as I continued barraging her with words of wisdom. "Like your mom and I have told you over and over again all we want is the best for you, and to see you happy. Lord knows we have seen you ripped apart enough."

Rachelle in response said, "I hate that voice, I can’t stand to hear you talk. It is as if you are preaching at me."

"All your daddy is trying to say is he loves you and is concerned with your welfare," Trisha said and grinned at me. "You do have an irritating voice when you are serious. It grates on me too."

"Let’s have a "let’s pick on Dan day now," I grinned and turned away saying, "I’ve had my say; so, what ever you want to do, do it. Have fun."
Anthony came by Sunday evening and they spent the evening together before he left for Sacramento. Rachelle was on cloud nine as she waited for his return on the weekend. Sure enough Friday evening around seven o’clock Anthony drove up and blew the horn. When Rachelle heard the horn, she grabbed her coat, purse, and shouted, "I’ll be back late, so don’t wait up." She ran down the hall to the door. Anthony staying away fit into my plans, while the thought of having to deal with him made me want to puke.

Saturday afternoon came and so did Anthony. When I saw Anthony turn onto our street, I went inside and said, "Rachelle, Anthony is here. Go on outside, because I don’t want to see him much less speak to the little bastard. Just seeing him makes me sick." She met him outside and didn’t come home until Sunday evening when Anthony dropped her off before he headed out of town. Trisha and I had already discussed that situation. Rachelle was elated as she burst into the house with a smile on her face. Trisha hated to destroy Rachelle’s happiness, but she reached out and took Rachelle’s hand. "Rachelle, Anthony is not going to have sex with you on the week end then leave you here during the week. If he wants to be married then he’s going to be married. We’re not planning on supporting you and giving you a place to stay while he does nothing for you but--excuse this expression--screw you."

Rachelle’s joy disappeared and she said, "I’m married, and I can have sex with him if I want to." Her voice strained with agitation and Trisha’s voice matched Rachelle’s.

"That’s right," Trisha, said agreeing with Rachelle, "this week when he goes out of town you, your baggage, and all are going with him. There will be not be anymore free loading. It is time for you kids to make a clean break for yourselves. We need to get on with our lives as a family. All this crap is turning your brothers into nervous wrecks. It is now time for them to have their mama, and daddy to themselves. Rachelle, we love you, but you have to go. Your apartment should be ready for you this week anyway."

The sudden elimination of crap happening seemed worse than crap happening. Trisha was working, Rachelle was milling around gathering her clothes in preparation of her expulsion, and here I was waiting for business calls to come my way, which all set the tone of the day to monotony. We would not have to wait long for the crap to start happening again. All it took was a phone call from Darlene, which came Thursday afternoon.

Rachelle answered the phone and the questions she asked, "What? Where? When? Are you sure," would catch anybody’s attention and the expression, "That bastard," sure caught mine. "Thanks, I’m sure glad you told me before he could make a complete fool out of me. That’s okay, Darlene, don’t feel bad. I appreciate you letting me know. No, I don’t think you are butting into my business. Thanks again. Bye, bye," she said. She hung the phone up and turned to me. "That S.O.B! You know what he did, Dad," she asked but not waiting for an answer said, "That jerk has been working in Upperlake for the past two weeks he is over there now. Darlene said he is helping a couple guys put siding on a house. I’ve been feeling so sorry for him having to travel out of town to work. If I could get my hands on him I would kill him."
I put my arms around Rachelle and said, "Honey, I hate to tell you this; didn’t I tell you all he wanted was to get in your pants. He doesn’t love you and he sure doesn’t care about you. If I were you, I would get a divorce. You are too good for him. I hope--and you had better pray you are not pregnant. I just don’t understand what that boy is thinking. He has to be a pathological liar. This area is too small to be screwing in, because everyone knows everyone’s business. He is so obvious, I guess he wants to get caught,. I’ll be damned if I know. He has me stumped. I’ll tell you again be careful, the way he screws around one poke from him could be deadly. AIDS isn’t anything to take lightly. You can’t get a shot to cure it."

"Take me over there," she pleaded.

"Hon, I’m not taking you anywhere. We don’t know where he is staying, and I don’t want to find him with me being in the state of mind I’m in right now. He’ll weasel in tomorrow night as if he was out of town. You’ll have all the time you need with him to make him wiggle like the worm he is. No you just wait."
Rachelle lambasted Trisha with the events of the day as soon as she entered the house, and to my surprise Trisha stop, looked at Rachelle, and said, "I’m sorry for you, but I’ve had a rough day. I’m going to take a hot bath and soak; anyway, I’m so sick of this soap opera. I’ve about had it up to here," she raised her hand eye-level, "not cutting you short; handle it, just handle it." There was not any sympathy from mom’s corner.

The worm came wiggling up not Friday evening as he did before, but Saturday at one o’clock, no phone call, no nothing--just acting as if nothing was wrong. He couldn’t understand Rachelle’s being perturbed and in due time he wrapped Rachelle around his little finger and persuaded her to go with him so they could "talk."

"There you are. Home so soon--let me hear his lies," I said.

"He said Sears gave them a change order from Sacramento to finish a job they started in Upperlake. They are starting the Sacramento job Monday. The reason he didn’t tell me he wasn’t in Sacramento was he didn’t think it was important anyway because we wouldn’t be able to see each other until today anyway. Well that answers my questions. I’m satisfied with his explanations."

"Well dear, if you are satisfied then I’m tickled pink to know all’s well in "Rachelleville." Did he pay the deposit for your apartment; you know Monday you are supposed to move in," I said reminding her. I already knew the answer she was going to give.

"No, he said "'he had to use that money for the motel and food this past week,'" Rachelle said.

"What is he going to do this week for a place to stay?" I asked belaboring the topic.

"He said he was going to stay with his uncle in South Sacramento while they worked that area. They have three jobs there. He is planning to see me on the weekends here, until he gets an apartment in Sacramento. He wants to move there because there is more work in that locality," Rachelle said informing me of her plans for the coming weeks.

"I don’t know why he’s planning on visiting you here on the week ends, didn’t you tell him you are going with him. You guys are still married aren’t you? Remember what we said if he wanted to be married to you, he was going to support you. When he comes to say his good byes tomorrow just throw your stuff in the truck. It’ll be fun living together. Then when he is paid Friday, y’all will be there to go apartment hunting. I know his family will just l-o-o-ove to let you stay there until you find a place to live."