Thunder and Lightening Chapter 35 By Lazlo Zalezac Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2004 Sunday night, a week before Halloween, Jerry was driving to the old house to check on the progress of the repairs. It was a little later in the evening than he had intended for the visit, but he had stayed around the house until after Abe had stopped working on his motorcycle. The young man had spent the entire afternoon trying to get the engine to start, but there was something the matter with it. Jerry didn't have a clue what the problem was or even how to go about fixing it. Knowing that Abe was getting frustrated, he had promised to take it to the bike shop for them to track down the problem. Hopefully, they would be able to fix it in time for Abe to get his driver's license on his upcoming birthday. As he drove, Jerry reflected on the quality of his life now that the divorce had gone through. Things had been rough for a while, but they were looking up. In three weeks, he would be marrying Jenny and they would move into the house. It would mean a major change in the tempo of life and he was looking forward to it. Bill could ride his scooter to school and Melissa would be driving soon. He wouldn't have to race out of the house so early in the morning or pick them up so late from school. Topmost in his mind was how life had settled into a simple routine. Every week was the same as the week before, but every day of the week was different and each was busy in its own way. Jerry liked the routine and took comfort in knowing what everyone was doing. Mondays remained hot breakfast day since it was Jerry's day off and he didn't have to take the kids to school early. After school, Jerry would do something with both kids. Usually they went to a movie, although on occasion they went ice-skating or to a video arcade. Wednesdays and Fridays had become hot breakfast days as well since he didn't have to open the store those mornings. The kids appreciated not having to go to school so early, but they had to stay after school until he could pick them up. For the most part, that wasn't a problem since Bill visited with Sandy, Woody, and Larry while Melissa participated in after school activities. Thursday nights were spent at the therapist. All three of them were going for anger management, although Jerry questioned the need for him to continue the visits. He hadn't felt the rage a single time since he had been shot. After they each had a turn with the therapist, they went out to dinner. Rather than Chinese buffet every week, the kids took turns picking out a place to eat. Friday nights were spent in Henry's garage building wall mounted waterfalls. Bill and Jerry worked together and found that they made a good team. Working as a team they were able to keep up with Henry. Melissa had taken to spending the evening at Henry's house visiting with Sharon. He was pleased that she was making the effort to learn a little about other races. Saturdays, Jerry worked and Bill stayed around the house while Jenny and Melissa went shopping. Saturday nights were date nights. Jerry took Jenny out, occasionally spending the night with her. Melissa went out with her friends; occasionally spending the night with one of her girlfriends or, at least, that is what she told Jerry. Bill stayed home alone, although Jerry did learn that his son frequently visited Shauna. To prevent unwanted pregnancies, he made sure that Bill always had some rubbers in the house. Sunday mornings passed with Jerry and Bill working on the car while Abe worked on his motorcycle. The three males enjoyed the time spent bonding under the guise of working on cars. Sunday afternoons were spent with Melissa behind the wheel of her used BMW while Jerry tried to pound holes through the floor of the car as he applied the non-existent brake in the passenger's seat. In amongst all of those activities, work on the house was continuing. Jerry stopped by every Monday while the kids were in school to check on the progress. Jenny and Melissa had surprisingly few arguments about decorating the house, much to everyone's amazement. The only one who wasn't surprised was Jerry. He watched as the two women started to bond. Melissa was learning that there were other kinds of relationships that could exist between men and women. The relationship between Bill and Melissa was best described as an uneasy truce in which a real peace treaty had never been signed. The potential for a major fight was always present just beneath the surface. Melissa took offense easily and Bill was just waiting for an excuse to explode in her direction. Jerry spent a lot of his time holding his breath expecting things to explode at any time. All in all, Jerry was happy with how his life was going. He nodded his head in satisfaction as he turned down the street to the house. The contractor had assured him that the house would be finished by the end of the week, but he didn't believe it. Last week there had been so much that remained to be done that it seemed impossible to finish it in time for the wedding. As he pulled up to the curb, Jerry noticed that the front door was open. It wasn't like the workmen to leave the door open after finishing up their work, but such things happened. He swore to himself while thinking that the door must have been open since Friday night. It made him wonder what had blown in the house over the course of two days. He stepped out of the truck and started towards the house. He hadn't taken more than five steps when one of the neighbors called out, "I've called the police." Jerry recognized the man and was surprised that he hadn't been recognized. He replied, "It's me." "I know. Your ex-wife just left here," replied the man, "and I just got off the phone with the police. I wouldn't go in there if I were you until after the police arrive." A horrible feeling settled over Jerry as he considered the news. He couldn't believe that she would actually come over to the house. He knew there was only one reason for her to do that and that was to destroy it all over again. It seemed as though his legs lost all their strength and he collapsed to his knees. Shocked, he said, "Fuck!" "She's a real bitch," commented the neighbor. He shook his head thinking back to when she was living in the house after Jerry had left. It had not been a pleasant time for the neighborhood. All of the neighbors complained about the yard, but she had responded with abuse. Jerry didn't have a chance to respond since a police car pulled up to the driveway. An officer got out of the car and looked at the two men in the front yard. One man was standing over another who was kneeling on the ground with his fists clenched. He put his hand on his gun and approached Jerry thinking that the neighbor had apprehended the suspect. As he drew close, he shouted, "Put your hands up in the air." Puzzled, Jerry looked over at the policeman. Realizing that the officer was serious, Jerry raised his hands as he explained, "This is my house, Officer." The neighbor said, "That's right. His ex-wife broke into it." "Who are you?" "I'm a neighbor. I'm the one who called you guys," answered the man. The policeman relaxed a little, but didn't remove his hand from the butt of his pistol. Pointing to the neighbor, he ordered, "Tell me what happened." "My son came home about thirty minutes ago and told me that a woman had broken into this house. I came out to check his story and saw that the door was open. I could see his ex-wife inside the house through the front window. I went home and called you guys. When I came out, she had driven off. A couple of minutes later, Jerry drove up and I told him that I had already called you. Then you showed up." "Where were you when all this was happening?" asked the officer turning to Jerry. "I was driving over here. I'm not living in the house at the moment. My ex-wife trashed the house when she moved out and I've been having a lot of work done on it to get it back into a condition where we can move in," answered Jerry. He looked at the open front door wondering how much damage his ex-wife had done. "Have you been inside, yet?" "No. I was waiting for you to arrive," answered Jerry. The officer went to the front door and looked in the house. He stood there for a minute and then called over to Jerry, "You need to come over here." Terrified at what he was going to find, Jerry stood up and walked over to the door. Even before reaching the door, he could see some of the damage through the front window. Angry, he shouted, "Fuck!" From the front door, he could see that his ex-wife had done a number on the inside of the house. With a can of red spray paint, she had written 'Gorilla' on the walls in huge letters. She had spilled one of the cans of paint left by the workers in the middle of the living room carpet. The carpet was ruined, but at least she hadn't stepped in it and tracked it through the rest of the house. Jerry followed the police officer from room to room looking at the disaster. She had painted every wall in the house. The carpet in the living room was ruined, as was the carpet in the master bedroom. The bathroom in the master bedroom was in ruins. Repeating her actions from when she had moved out, she had taken a hammer to the porcelain fixtures. Jerry knelt by the toilet and turned off the water. He found that he couldn't stand and sat down heavily on the wet floor. The policeman said, "She must really hate you." "That's the only emotion she knows," replied Jerry looking around the bathroom as his body went numb. He couldn't believe the damage she had done to it. Even the shower door hadn't escaped intact. "Let's go outside and get the detectives over here," commented the cop. As the cop turned to leave, Jerry said, "I can't stand up. Could you give me a hand?" The cop helped Jerry out of the house. He stumbled since he couldn't feel his feet. When they reached the yard, Jerry sat down again as his strength left him. His wet clothes mixed with the dirt forming a thin layer of mud. He didn't care about that. He realized that he hadn't seen the kitchen and his stomach tightened at the thought of what he would find in there. He looked over at the cop and asked, "What happens now?" "We'll arrest her and file criminal charges for B&E, vandalism, and destruction of private property," answered the cop. "What about the damage to the house?" "You'll have to deal with your insurance company on that. They'll probably pay for the damages and then file a civil suit against her to collect their losses." Jerry pulled the cell phone out of his pocket and dialed the number that he had hoped he would never have to call again. On the third ring, his lawyer answered. Jerry said, "Hello. This is Jerry." "What can I do for you?" "My ex-wife broke into the house and trashed it again," answered Jerry. "Oh Jerry, I feel for you. That woman is bad news. You need to call the police and then your insurance agent," replied his lawyer. "The police are already here." "Good. Call your insurance agent and have him get over there. The police will charge her for the criminal acts. The insurance company will sue her for the damages. There's not much that I can do for you on this one," replied the lawyer. "Okay. Thanks a lot," said Jerry. At least his attorney had verified what the cop had told him. He wished there were some way to punish her in a more personal manner. An image of her locked naked in a medieval stock while he charged people a quarter to fuck her flashed through his mind. After he hung up, he called Jenny to get the number for the insurance agent. She answered after what seemed like a hundred rings. Irritated, she answered the phone with a sharp, "What?" "Sorry to call so late in the evening, Jenny. This is Jerry. I need you to help me out here," replied Jerry taken aback by how she had answered the phone. "I was in the shower," said Jenny in a less hostile tone of voice, "and I've got shampoo in my hair. What's the matter?" "My ex-wife trashed the house," answered Jerry. He knew that Jenny would be just as upset about it as he was. She had put in a lot of time decorating the house. His answer was greeted with total silence. He waited a minute and then asked, "Jenny, are you still there?" There was another moment of silence before she answered, "I'm still here. How bad is it?" "Very bad," answered Jerry. He didn't even know how to quantify the damage to the house. In fact, he wasn't sure that he knew the full extent of damage. "What can I do?" asked Jenny. She was fighting off tears as she thought about what that woman had done to Jerry. They were going to get married in three weeks and had planned on moving into that house. "Could you call the insurance agent for me? I don't have his number with me." "Sure. Are you at the house now?" "Yes, I am," answered Jerry in a very tired voice. He felt as if someone had drained the life from his body. "I'll call the insurance agent and then go pick up the kids. We'll be over in a little while," Jenny said. Her mind was racing as she went through everything that had to be done. She added, "You should call the contractor and have him come over to look at the house, too." "Good thinking," said Jerry recalling that he had the contractor's number in his cell phone. It was one of the few numbers that he called almost as often as Jenny's number. After exchanging good byes, they hung up. Jenny was going to rinse the shampoo out of her hair and then call the insurance agent. Jerry immediately called the contractor. The detectives arrived while he was talking with the contractor. When he finished his call, they asked him a few questions but there was little he could tell them except his wife's name and address. It was an hour later when the contractor showed up at the house. He entered it and walked around examining the damage. Frowning, he came out of the house and went over to where Jerry was still seated on the ground. Jerry had not stood because he didn't trust his legs to hold him up. If there had been a time when the rage would have been justified in emerging, this was it. The absence of the rage made him feel vulnerable. The contractor squatted and said, "It looks pretty bad, but most of the damage is superficial. We're going to have to sand the walls to take off the paint -- otherwise it'll bleed though. The carpets are ruined and will have to be replaced. Both bathrooms need to be redone. She took a hammer to the dishwasher, oven, microwave, refrigerator, and the kitchen sink. They'll have to be replaced unless you are willing to live with dented appliances." Shaking his head, Jerry commented, "She undid two months worth of work in twenty minutes." "Yeah. It's a whole lot harder to build something than to take it apart," replied the contractor nodding his head as if he had stated a great truth of life. The insurance agent showed up. Getting out of his car, he went over to where Jerry was seated. Jerry finally managed to stand and greet him. After introducing the contractor and insurance agent to each other, the three of them went into the house to assess the damage. They were in the den that had been added to the house, looking at the wood paneling that had been painted over when a scream echoed through the house. Melissa shouted, "I'll kill that bitch." Jerry cringed at Melissa's voice realizing that he hadn't considered how the kids would react to the damage. Stepping out of the den, he found Melissa on the floor in tears. She was crying uncontrollably, her shoulders heaving as great sobs escaped from deep within her. Decorating the house had been the first real constructive thing she had ever done and seeing it ruined had wounded her deeply. Standing behind his sister, Bill stared at her in shock. He had never seen her care about anything to this extent. Confused, he looked up at his father and shrugged his shoulders trying to convey his lack of understanding. Jenny knelt beside Melissa and was rubbing her shoulders making little noises intended to sooth the young woman. Jerry went over to Melissa and said, "Melissa, it can be fixed." "She destroyed all my hard work. It'll never be the same," replied his daughter, with pauses between each word as she sobbed. Never in her life had anything come to mean so much to her as fixing up the house and returning to live in it. "You'll see that it'll be fixed," reassured Jerry as he put a hand on her back. Seeing that his words had not registered, he repeated, "It'll be fixed, don't worry about that." Very surprised that she cared so much, Bill commented, "Damn. I didn't believe you had it in you, Melissa. I'm shocked to see that you to care so much about something." Melissa turned on Bill and spat out, "You must be enjoying this!" "Not really," answered Bill. His puzzled frown suggested that he didn't really know how he felt about this. For most of his life, he had wanted to see her care about something and then see it destroyed, but the reality of the situation was not the thrill that he thought it would be. "Huh?" "I didn't think... Well, I guess it doesn't matter what I think," answered Bill. The fact was that he didn't know what he thought. The condition of the house had impacted him as well. He turned away feeling very young and awkward. The word 'Gorilla' assaulted him no matter what direction he turned. Jerry had watched the exchange with interest. He was surprised that Bill hadn't taken the chance to gloat over his sister's tragedy. It wouldn't have surprised him if Bill had used the occasion to point out that now she knew how he felt when she had taken a hammer to his scooter. That his son had turned away clearly ill at ease with the situation was good. Jerry said, "Melissa, she didn't do it to hurt you. She wanted to hurt me." "You aren't a gorilla," replied Melissa while staring at the writing on the wall. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized what she had said. It puzzled her. She wondered when she had stopped thinking of him as the 'gorilla' and started thinking of him as her father. There wasn't any clear event when she had said to herself, 'Ah, he's not a gorilla. He's my father." "You just haven't seen me eat a banana," commented Jerry with a grin. Jenny couldn't help giggling at the comment. Even Melissa looked up at him with a grin. She was surprised that her father could joke about it that way. Looking around the house, she knew that her mother had really intended to hurt him. She said, "It's still unfair." When Jenny went over to talk to the insurance agent to determine what was going to happen next, Jerry helped Melissa off the floor and hugged her. The young woman was surprised to find how much she enjoyed receiving a hug from her father. It made her feel protected, even amidst the destruction that surrounded her. After a minute, she pulled away and said, "Thanks daddy." Jerry didn't let the surprise created by her use of the endearment show on his face. He smiled and said, "I bet you and Jenny need to discuss what needs to be done next." "Sure," answered Melissa relieved at having something positive to do. She turned and walked over to Jenny to see what had to be done to fix the house. It was clear to her that they would have a lot of shopping to do to replace the things that had been destroyed. Jerry went over to Bill's bedroom, expecting and finding Bill looking at the walls of the room. Bill turned when he saw his father and commented, "She couldn't even spell Orangutan correctly. That was her little nickname for me." Jerry looked at the walls and noticed the misspelled word. The cruelty of his ex-wife was beyond anything he could imagine. While living with her for all those years, he had become numb to it. Only after being separated from it for so long did it really strike him afresh. Sighing, he said, "She's a nasty woman that only knows hate." "I was surprised by Melissa. She really did take pride in what she and Jenny were doing here. I didn't think she could feel pride," commented Bill. He had seen her react to the damage in the same way that he would react if someone had smashed up his car with a hammer after all the work he had put into it. His car wasn't done, but neither was the house. Jerry put a hand on his son's shoulder and said, "I'm proud that you recognized how she felt." Shrugging his shoulders, Bill said, "Wasn't anything special." "Sure it was. How do you feel about your sister now?" Jerry was curious about how his son would answer that question. He watched his son think about the question. "I don't know," answered Bill after thinking about it for a full minute. "Good answer," said Jerry relieved that his son hadn't stated that he still hated his sister. It was an improvement of sorts. Bill looked at his father with narrowed eyes and asked, "Aren't you going to tell me that I'm supposed to love her or some shit like that?" "I'd never presume to tell anyone how they are supposed to feel about another person," answered Jerry. He frowned as he looked around the room and added, "That's what your mother does." The comment struck Bill like a slap across the face. At that moment, he truly understood the true evil that his mother had done to Melissa. She had warped emotions from honest expressions of feelings to a tool to be employed to manipulate the people around her. He considered the long-term consequences that his mother had on his sister. Bill shuffled his feet in place and then said, "Yeah, I guess so." "Yeah," agreed Jerry. It was a quiet trip back to the house. For some reason that neither woman would explain to Jerry, Melissa had chosen to ride back with Jenny. Bill and Jerry were alone in the car driving through the dark night. Bill broke the silence when he asked, "What do you think of Shauna?" "She's a nice girl," commented Jerry. He didn't know what else to say since he didn't know that much about the relationship between his son and the girl. He had discussed it with Henry once, but his friend had said that it was likely Shauna was just having a little fun and that Bill was the lucky recipient of it. "I mean, you don't think it's weird that I'm seeing a black girl?" asked Bill. Smiling, Jerry said, "I think it's great that you're seeing a girl. I didn't have a girlfriend when I was your age." "Yeah, but what about the race thing," asked Bill. Although his father had never said anything to him about it, he wondered at times if his father thought poorly of him because he was dating a black. "You guys have races? Wow, I would have thought that you would have spent your time doing other things," commented Jerry. He looked over at the stunned reaction of his son and laughed out loud. The poor boy was trying to find out what his father thought and was receiving jokes in return. He smiled and said, "Hey, I said earlier that it wasn't up to me to dictate how you felt about others. I meant it. If you feel something special for Shauna, then you feel something for special for Shauna. What should you care if some people have a problem with that?" "Do you have a problem with it?" asked Bill. "Of course not. I just don't want to see you get her pregnant," answered Jerry. "Why? Because you don't want a mixed baby?" Jerry looked over at Bill and realized that his son was very insecure about the relationship with Shauna. He explained, "That's not it. You're still young. One of the things that traps kids in our neighborhood is that they get pregnant too young. It's nearly impossible for a person to raise kids and go to college at the same time. I'd like both of you to have every opportunity for a great future." Bill was silent as he considered the answer. Frowning, he asked, "So it doesn't bother you that she's black?" "It doesn't bother me that she's black," answered Jerry, putting it as plain as he knew how. The fact of the matter was that he hadn't thought about it at all. After a moment of thought, he added, "It seems to me like it bothers you a little." "I've never told any of the kids at school about Shauna. I'm not sure how they would react to it," said Bill. "What is the relationship between you and Shauna?" asked Jerry. The fact that Bill would hide the relationship suggested to him that it wasn't exactly a normal girlfriend-boyfriend relationship. It was a good question and one for which Bill didn't have a ready answer. She called him her fuck-buddy, but he didn't really know if that was a good thing. They had fun, but it was only sex. He answered, "I'm not sure. We have sex with each other, but we don't do anything else together. The other kids in the neighborhood know that we get together, but no one says anything about it. I know she's sleeping with another guy." "So the two of you are fuck-buddies?" The question shocked Bill. He asked, "That's what she says, but I'm not sure what that means." "It means that you get together for sex and nothing else. No attachments, no promises, and no commitments," answered Jerry. For a fifteen-year-old boy, that wasn't a bad relationship to have with a girl. Bill sat back in the seat and thought about it. There were times when he wanted the relationship to go a little further. He wanted to take her to a movie or with him when he went to visit his friends, but she wasn't interested in that. After a minute, he said, "Okay. I guess that we're fuck buddies. I can live with that." "You can?" asked Jerry with a grin. They reached the house without further conversation. Jerry parked the truck in the front yard and climbed out. Looking around the neighborhood, he realized that if his ex-wife had shown up here that she would have had a very different reception. The folks would have taken the law into their own hands rather than call the police. At least, that is what he chose to believe. Feeling a sudden urge to relieve himself, Bill ran into the house. Jerry followed at a more sedate pace, feeling far older than his calendar years. He sighed as he sat down on the porch to wait for Jenny and Melissa to arrive home. He wasn't there for more than five minutes when Bill opened the door and asked, "Would you like a Coke?" "Sure," answered Jerry appreciating his son's thoughtfulness. "Catch." Bill tossed him a cold can and returned to the house. He could tell that his father was feeling down and wanted to be alone for a few minutes. Jerry opened the can and took a long draw from it. The cold liquid coursing down his throat felt good. He thought about the damage to the house and his reaction to it. The sight had drained him physically and spiritually, leaving him weak rather than enraged. The pit of his stomach where the rage had once dwelt remained vacant. When Jenny pulled up in her car, Jerry stood to meet the two women when they came up to the house. Melissa stopped, gave him a hug, and said, "Thanks dad." "You're welcome," replied Jerry wondering what he had done. He watched Melissa go into the house and then turned to look at Jenny. "Confused?" "A little. What did I do to deserve that?" asked Jerry. Jenny smiled at her boyfriend and shook her head. He had no idea how the little talk and hug he had with Melissa back at the house had affected his daughter. There were times when her love for him threatened to overwhelm her and this was one of those times. She smiled and answered, "You were there for her when she needed you." "I didn't do anything special," said Jerry as he replayed the events in the house in his mind. All he had done was tell her that it would be all right and that they'd fix up the house. Walking up to him while putting as much sway into her hips as she knew how, she said, "I know, you were just being yourself." Watching Jenny walk up to him had a direct effect on his hormones. She was the sexiest woman that he had ever seen. He hugged her and asked, "What did I ever do to deserve you?" Having his arms around her melted her heart. She wished that they could spend a little private time together this evening. The events of the evening must have had a terrible effect on him and she wanted to take care of him like only a woman could. Her entire body ached with the need to comfort him. She smiled and said, "I'm the lucky one to have found you." They walked over to the porch and sat down, side by side in comfortable silence. Jerry said, "I'm sorry to have interrupted your shower. For a while there, I was in shock." "You don't have to apologize for calling me. I'm glad you did. You must have been crushed when you saw what she did." It was hard to admit how weak he had felt when he had seen the word 'Gorilla' painted across the walls. Taking a deep breath, he said, "She meant to hurt me. I'll admit that she succeeded. Of course, I wasn't the only one that she hurt." Jenny sighed as she thought back to her reaction. All of that hard work ruined in one malicious act by a bitter woman. "You're right." "You were hurt by it too," observed Jerry. "Yes, I was. Now I'm angry," said Jenny. She looked across the dark yard at the cars parked around the tree. Three weeks from that night they were supposed to move into the refinished house. Bill's car would have ended up in the garage where he and Jerry could work on it through the cold winter months. Those plans had been ruined. "Don't be angry," said Jerry. "Why shouldn't I be angry?" asked Jenny with a trace of irritation in her voice. She felt as if she had a perfect right to be angry. Her plans for the wedding were ruined. "We'll be moving in there soon enough," said Jerry. He looked over at Jenny seeing that something was bothering her that went beyond the simple damage to the house. He asked, "What is it that you are worried about?" "Our wedding," answered Jenny looking down at the ground. "We're still getting married, aren't we?" asked Jerry shocked that this could affect their plans. "We won't have a place to live," said Jenny on the verge of tears. "We have three houses to live in. So what if none of them are perfect? We'll get married and live together in your place or this place until our dream house is fixed," replied Jerry as he put his arm around her shoulder. He pulled her tight against him as though he feared ever losing her and was going to prevent it at all costs. Sniffing, she said, "I just wanted everything perfect." Laughing, Jerry said, "If you wanted everything perfect, why in God's name are you marrying me?" The comment was exactly what Jenny needed to hear. It started with a little smile that grew larger and finally turned into laughter. Relieved, she sought reassurance, "I guess the wedding is still on?" "Of course," answered Jerry. He kissed the top of her head and then added, "I love you so much."