The Crazy Beauty of Collateral Damage

"Your mother and your brother are not coming home," said the father to his four children that he gathered in the living room for the big news. Words that made them all look up to their towering father, confused. Even the oldest, at age thirteen, was too young to understand, as for the first time in their young lives they watched the tears fall from the eyes of this hulking man.

A sight for sore eyes that even the youngest, at twenty-one months, could comprehend. As every lip in the room began to quiver, it sent a chill up the father’s spine, so cold that it made him shiver. An emotion that overwhelmed him so much that he snatched the play-pen off the floor and threw it through the living room window.

For the first time in their young lives the children were witnessing rage. Terrified by the sound of shattering glass, the youngest covered his ears, the only daughter covered her eyes, and the eleven year old covered his mouth as the father then let out a cry so painful that it made his legs buckle. Falling like a six foot five tree, as he went crashing down to his knees wallowing in misery.

A vision so incredibly heartbreaking that it would immediately disarm the children, who one by one proceeded to slowly step up to their broken father with wet faces to put their arms around him. And then, without saying a word, they all began to sob together as a family. For the brother whom they never met, and for their favorite woman in the world whom they may never see alive again...

Almost nine years later to the day, mom came home from the hospital. With her wrists wrapped up like Gene Upshaw before a football game. It had been 72 hours since her two youngest sons thought they would never see her again. But the look of defeat in her eyes was bittersweet to them. They saw a shame that she could not hide if she tried. One that screamed "I can't wait to try again!"

How embarrassed she must feel after what she has done. Strutting out of the bathroom with her head held high and bloody arms, ready to condemn the monster in their haunted home to his face with an act of "look what you made me do" vengeance, only to be served an even darker nightmare when she was instead greeted by her two baby boys.

The only two children who never got to experience the man whom she fell in love with over fifteen years ago.

The very same man who once upon a time, had the heart to shape and mold her two oldest sons that were not even his own. Boys that he taught to fish and how to be men. Boys that he instilled with confidence. Boys that he celebrated birthdays and holidays with...doing all of those beautiful things that a loving father naturally tends to do, he would provide for his step-children. Yet in the same breath, years later, he would neglect his own blood for sport. Going out of his way to never look them in the face, as if they were his best friends' kids. The only intimacy that he would ever share with them was a razor strap to their backs as he sold all of their presents for profit and even flipped their food stamps for cash. Just to show and prove how haunting of a man he truly was. A man that the two eldest sons, now grown and living charmed lives, never had the displeasure of witnessing.

It's crazy how much ten years later felt more like a lifetime to the mother of five. That same knight in shining armor, who once rescued her from a world of suffering, could morph into the definition of pure evil, which remains as the greatest mystery in their family history. It was one which the two youngest sons would drag through the uncontrollable struggles of life like jagged pieces of glass for the rest of their tortured days on Earth. At the dismay of their sweet mother, who continued to struggle with trying to reprogram the minds of her two youngest sons as though they had lying eyes. Affirming to them whenever she could that their father once was a good man...

"What, am I supposed to be nice to you now?" Were the first words that their ugly father could conjure up. As if defending his pride in front of the woman he inspired to commit the ultimate sin. This time, however, her young sons refused to go to their room so their father could torture their mother in wicked peace. Instead, they stood right by her side. Two stern little four foot men, like they were standing guard for their queen. But mom stayed silent the entire time smothered in defeat, staring into the wall with vacant eyes. It was as if her soul had already checked out.

"You want out that bad?!" Shouted the devil of a man.

Ready to storm off like he always did. But this was a movie these kids had seen many times before, so they knew he was only going out to the bar to get fueled up for the night where he would most likely come back home to terrorize some more. At the same time, the two boys could sense that their father had changed. Like they were witnessing a sliver of compassion infect the pride of a sociopath for the very first time. Just enough to stop him from putting his vice grip hands around mom's helpless throat once again as he would turn and stomp for the exit instead. Abandoning them all with two words, "I'm gone!"

"--What about money?!" Were mom’s first words of the night. Catching dad seconds before he ripped open the door. And then without saying a word, he came back and threw a Mexican bankroll of Jacksons into the air. More money than the boys had ever seen in their brief lifetime was floating in the air as they would scatter in a desperate attempt to snatch every dollar with wide eyes like leaves falling from trees.

Daddy had been holding out this entire time. As the boys spent the last 2 years scrounging for change under vending machines for a microwave popcorn lunch...if lucky! For many days and nights they strolled the streets looking for a church meal or a free bag lunch. Nobody loved school lunch more than them boys. The turkey drummers,the square pizzas, and the chocolate milk was a slice of heaven to them two boys. So much so that the summers for them were the worst of times, where their mother would start off their morning with a five word pep talk saying, "we don't have any food." End of pep talk. Basically giving them the permission to steal. And there was their father, throwing $20 bill's in the air like he starred in a rap video. Unbelievable!!!

So when daddy slammed the door on the way out to drown his shame in whiskey, that was all the courage his 10 year old Junior needed as he rushed to scrape up all the money he could swoop up off of the dirty carpet. Which in the end had to be an easy thousand. But mom didn't move a muscle. She just sat there in her chair. Lost in a nightmare as she began to romanticize about trying to end it all again tomorrow. "Maybe pills will do the trick next time?"

But her nine year old had other plans in mind as he took the opportunity to pounce. Running to his mother's aid, who continued to stare off into the distance slouched in her chair, he stood face to face with her like they were the same height.

"Let's go, Ma!" The boy shouted --over and over and over and over again. Screaming with a burning passion that she had never seen in life. Coming from the same kid that nearly killed her at birth. Born three months premature with a hole in his heart that forced him to kick off his frail life inside of a hospital bubble for his first six months of existence.

--Her bubble boy who ultimately possessed the fire that would finally wake her up. Snapping out of a daze she looked right at her baby boy with tears in her eyes as if she was the child. She then whispered with a gentle voice, "Where are we gonna go?"

"--Anywhere!!!" He cried instantly, like he already had an answer in the chamber. "Anywhere!!"

And by that time he had his hero big brother by his side with hands full of money. So much money that he couldn't hold it all as he ogled at his mother. Matching the same pleading eyes as his little brother, before saying his peace with a much sweeter tone. "Anywhere, Ma... Anywhere..."

And then all of the sudden she shot up to her feet a brand new woman. Peering down at her two broken winged Prince's of lost innocence she wiped their tears and her own in unison before mustering up the strength to utter two last words of her own... "start packing!"

And mom would never in life spend another night in bed with that evil man who brought her two boys into the world...

Long story over... that same boy who almost killed her when he was born, a decade later ended up saving her life...

And that my friends is what I define as the crazy beauty of collateral damage.

Sincerely Yours,

S.J.B. Chase