The Camelot Equation was Never a Factor - II

(Continuing) By age 14 It became pretty clear to me that "other kids" I met in school were apparently retarded. I was from a different planet. None of them seemed to know or understand anything about my world when we talked casually between classes. When I explained things in my life to any "new" friends or classmates, or told them they couldn't come over after school "to play" because their lives would be in danger, they just looked at me and eventually moved on. They all had minibikes, pot and dances. Parents. Relatives. School clubs with groups of buddies who hung together and did stuff. My world was black-and-white. A foreign reality soaked in fear with a different set of chores than any other I heard about. I remember hearing classmates actually cry because they had to mow the lawn or clean their rooms before being allowed to do stuff. Me? I had to rush home to pick up hundreds of dog-soiled newspapers strewn throughout the house earlier that morning before I left. Then, herd 30 screaming hungry dogs somehow through the attached garage and into a fenced "pen" only 15 feet long and 5 feet wide hoping they would all "do their business" quickly so I could have time to clean up properly for School the next morning. My psycho Grandma demanded I somehow keep the destroyed floors, walls and furniture clean and odor free. (Ha! An impossible task for even the most seasoned adult professional). To keep me under control she would beat and chastise me with any object she could grasp if I objected, whined or refrained. By age 12 I had eventually submitted to this tyranny and resigned myself to believe this life was normal. I had nothing to compare it to. My poor little brother and older sister just hid or remained invisible as best they could because all tasks put upon them were simply impossible.

I remember puberty was kicking in pretty good by then and girls were starting to look interesting to me. Yet at no point in my life had we ever been able to test drive or "tune-up" our social ability with members of the opposite sex. I (we) were all totally paralyzed, always in some form of shock, and so socially dysfunctional it was a wonder we could communicate at all. I believe if a medical test existed today, it would show significant levels of brain damage from breathing the foul, urine and feces based air for so long. It damaged us for life (in hundreds of ways) I'm certain. But, more on that later...

Some idiot rang the front doorbell one day while I wasn't on my normal guard. (I was scavenging for morsels of food in our destroyed kitchen). Luckily, my brother and sister were initially in their bedrooms and psycho Grandma was (once again) day-sleeping. The dogs had eaten out all the bottoms of the bedroom and bathroom doors thus providing rapid movement from anywhere they were at. The doorbell started one of the most vicious frenzies I ever recall. (although they were all bad). I figured out later the heightened excitement was due to several of the females being "in-heat". Anyway, one dog bit the next and so forth on their way to attack whoever was at the front door, and it was on. To describe what happened next makes my heart race even now so I'll try my best to describe it. Ever witnessed a dogfight? Blood curdling dog screams, yelping, blood... They bite anything near and at warp speed. But we had been through this before about a hundred times. We had a plan. At the first sign of any dogfight, us kids were ordered by psycho Grandma to quickly "wade" into the center of the melee, then "separate and divide" them by any means possible. Well, as brother, sister, psycho Grandma emerged and all converged on the living room, this time they started attacking us. In a nanosecond the only family I knew was being bitten and attacked before my eyes while this loud hurricane of screaming scraped over the walls. Something happened to me then. A strange but furious type of calm washed over me and a red ball of blinding energy swept across my brain. I must have snapped. I suddenly started grabbing dogs by their necks and slamming them into walls and up to the ceiling after crashing their skulls into each other. It was surreal. While hurling animals with my hands I was launching them in different directions with my feet. This time, when they retreated I followed and began chasing "them" through the house punching their faces and hurling them two at a time against stoves, floors and on top of tables until they stopped and hid from me. I hunted them like a crazed madman screaming threats and verbalizing warnings to them as though they could understand me. Like Jack Nicholsen in that maze scene in "The Shining". When it was over, they had all ran to wherever it was they hid in the house and stayed quiet while I helped nurse my family's wounds. An hour later it was like it never happened. This was my daily routine folks.

I've left a lot of stuff out again. Just can't write about it yet. At night, my brother and I started sneaking out of our bedroom window. We started roaming the streets (yeah, just like dogs) and embarked on a life of juvenile crime breaking into cars, stealing and shoplifting wine and cigarettes at the local Albertsons. I traded a stolen stereo for a car one day and hid it around the corner so psycho Grandma wouldn't see it while returning from one of her "all you can eat" buffet trips along with her giant purse full of (sneaked out) buffet food to feed us "and" the dogs. I didn't know it then, but that car would eventually be the means to all of our escapes. School and life went on. Other kids had money to buy food during lunch. I stole enough to buy a roll for me and my siblings. And somehow through it all I became hyper vigilant, razor sharp, smart, attentive and quick-witted. (Imagine that?) School suddenly got boring and people were stupid. Tests and classes all became so easy it was ridiculous. Weird. Anyway, one day after school psycho Grandma was having another meltdown. I could (once again) hear screaming as I neared my door. I walked in glaring down the cowering dogs who now feared my wrath in the middle of her beating my older sister again. She was striking my crying sister on the top of her head with a friggen metal tipped high-heeled shoe inflicting a lot of damage. Again, that strange calm and red energy snapped into place and this time I intervened. Without even a second thought I swept across the room puddled room like a ninja and grabbed my psycho Grandma by her throat, pinned her against the wall and reared back a clenched fist ready to break her face in two. My sister stopped me before I punched. Without releasing my stranglehold I told psycho Grandma if she ever touched or hit any of us again I would kill her. And I want you readers to understand I meant it. I'm not saying this for dramatic license. I would literally have killed her without a blink of remorse. Pretty bad, huh. I was honing my skills. Death, destruction, blood and mayhem along with their sordid underworlds I'd learned about had nothing on me. I was slowly becoming the real deal.

My sister eventually met a guy across town in Portland who I would take her to see in my "stereo" car. It was during one of those trips I found the Navy & Marine Corps recruiting office at Swan Island there in Portland, Oregon. For giggles I pulled in and wanted to talk to a Navy recruiter about joining but when I found their door, it had a "Out To Lunch" sign on it. Nobody home. Whats up with that Navy? While I was standing their reading the door posters a booming macho voice from behind called out to me. The voice said "Why in the hell would you want to be one of those Navy pussy's when you can be a real man over here?" When I turned, I saw a towering United States Marine Gunnery Sergeant standing there, hands on hips in his dress blues, a Mamaluke sword at his side and white gloves staring at me questioningly. His name was GySgt. Britt Eadie and I'll never forget him. I eventually became a wet dream for the Marines.....next chapter I'll tell you some stories that'll set your hair on fire and what became of us when I joined.

Until we meet again....