Chapter 2: Dad Gets Divorced and Marries Again
My dad and stepmother moved nearby into this large new gated apartment complex that was across the street from one of the main shopping centers in town. It was big boring place. They had a big pool and a big grass field, but beyond that, there really wasn't anything to do there. At some point the phone company sent him to work up in Sacramento for a long time, and my stepmother stayed down here. I remember he had his own horse up there, and he lived with some other guy who used to get drunk and drive his ride on mower into the bar. I'm a little hazy on this period and the time frame. I know at this point, while he was up there, my stepmother started seeing some other guy that played steel guitar in some country band, and she left my dad and took everything. The other guy even forged my dad's signature on some checks. I just remember my dad crying and telling me she left and took everything. This was the second time this happened to him, and the second time he was totally clueless. When he came back from Sacramento, he came back to a totally empty house,saving account, and bills up the ass. There was a time she came back for a little while, and then split with the same guy again. By this point, my dad had pretty much become an alcoholic. He soon met up with another woman named Becky who would soon become my next stepmother.
I remember when my dad came over to get me one day he told me I would be meeting another woman that was he was seeing and her son Ray who was a year older than me. Me and Ray hit it off right off the bat. Ray had a fairly rough growing up, and never really knew his real father. My dad took him under his wing. Dad and Becky used to argue quite a bit. She was Hawaiian, alcoholic and talked pigeon English. You couldn't always tell what it was she was trying to say because she would spit out fast and not always get the words right. She came off kind of mean or angry. It was always "Goddamn kids!" or "What? You bad ass?" Ray told my dad early on that if he ever left her, he was going with him. I could understand why. Ray was good for my dad because he actually liked football, and that was the only language my dad really loved. They ended up moving to various apartment locations throughout Hawthorne. I think Beck used to get into arguments with people and they would be forced to move. I never really got what planet this woman was coming from, and I never really felt at home around her. When ever I would go over there and visit, dad and her would always be drinking. I remember being at home one Saturday and my dad called and asked said they were going to the Long Beach Pike, and would I like to go? My mom said it was okay, so he stopped and picked me up. He was driving this big car that belonged to this other guy who wasn't driving. The car was loaded with more people than it could hold. Becky was pregnant with my future half brother Bart and was in the passenger side up front, and somebody else was sitting between her and my dad. The back seat had like four of us, with somebody sitting on somebody else's lap. We got to the Pike which was an ocean side amusement park with a big roller coaster and all sorts of rides that no longer exsists today. We went on the rides, and then went through the midway which had all types of carnival games and dark rides. They also has these diners and open air bars. My dad gave me and Ray money to play carnival games and go on rides, and the rest of them all sat and drank at the open air bar. We spent a couple of hours there. They had one carnival game that both Ray and I seemed to like that had all these glass bottles lined up on shelves, and for like 25 cents they would give you ten marbles that you would use in sling shots to try and break as many bottles as you could and get prizes. For two boys that liked to break stuff, this was ultra cool. We amassed quite a collection of ceramic horses and other cheap what nots. It was time to start heading back, and the adults were even more enibriated than they were before we got there. I should also point out, they were sort of there before they came and got me. My dad was going to drive back. We all piled back into the nice big shiny new blue car and got on the Long Beach freeway. When we got to the turn off for the San Diego North, my dad drove us straight into the divider. He hit steering wheel, the person in the middle hit the windshield, as did Becky. Everyone in the back seat got bruised up as well. I had a deep cut on my right shin like I had been hit with something sharp. My dad claimed there was someone behind him that was tailgating. The police came and wanted to take my dad in. I don't know if he was arrested for that or night. I remember riding home in a police car and the officer explaining to my mom that I was in an accident. I didn't see my dad for a while after that. For the longest time after that, everytime I rode in a car I would be putting the brakes on in the passenger side. I was affraid to ride in a car for a good year. Al would always look over at me and ask, "what are you doing?"
I don't think my mom would let me be in a car that my dad was driving for the longest time. My dad had a history of car accidents in every marriage he was in. Not fender benders, but major go through the windshield sorts of accidents. He used to tell me he had blackouts from them. I wasn't sure if it was from that or his drinking.
I believe the next time I saw my dad was when I was at my grandparent's house. I was sitting in my grandfather's chair in their living room watching television, and from out of no where my dad came up and said "Here, have a baby brother!" and handed me my brother Bart.
I remember when my dad came over to get me one day he told me I would be meeting another woman that was he was seeing and her son Ray who was a year older than me. Me and Ray hit it off right off the bat. Ray had a fairly rough growing up, and never really knew his real father. My dad took him under his wing. Dad and Becky used to argue quite a bit. She was Hawaiian, alcoholic and talked pigeon English. You couldn't always tell what it was she was trying to say because she would spit out fast and not always get the words right. She came off kind of mean or angry. It was always "Goddamn kids!" or "What? You bad ass?" Ray told my dad early on that if he ever left her, he was going with him. I could understand why. Ray was good for my dad because he actually liked football, and that was the only language my dad really loved. They ended up moving to various apartment locations throughout Hawthorne. I think Beck used to get into arguments with people and they would be forced to move. I never really got what planet this woman was coming from, and I never really felt at home around her. When ever I would go over there and visit, dad and her would always be drinking. I remember being at home one Saturday and my dad called and asked said they were going to the Long Beach Pike, and would I like to go? My mom said it was okay, so he stopped and picked me up. He was driving this big car that belonged to this other guy who wasn't driving. The car was loaded with more people than it could hold. Becky was pregnant with my future half brother Bart and was in the passenger side up front, and somebody else was sitting between her and my dad. The back seat had like four of us, with somebody sitting on somebody else's lap. We got to the Pike which was an ocean side amusement park with a big roller coaster and all sorts of rides that no longer exsists today. We went on the rides, and then went through the midway which had all types of carnival games and dark rides. They also has these diners and open air bars. My dad gave me and Ray money to play carnival games and go on rides, and the rest of them all sat and drank at the open air bar. We spent a couple of hours there. They had one carnival game that both Ray and I seemed to like that had all these glass bottles lined up on shelves, and for like 25 cents they would give you ten marbles that you would use in sling shots to try and break as many bottles as you could and get prizes. For two boys that liked to break stuff, this was ultra cool. We amassed quite a collection of ceramic horses and other cheap what nots. It was time to start heading back, and the adults were even more enibriated than they were before we got there. I should also point out, they were sort of there before they came and got me. My dad was going to drive back. We all piled back into the nice big shiny new blue car and got on the Long Beach freeway. When we got to the turn off for the San Diego North, my dad drove us straight into the divider. He hit steering wheel, the person in the middle hit the windshield, as did Becky. Everyone in the back seat got bruised up as well. I had a deep cut on my right shin like I had been hit with something sharp. My dad claimed there was someone behind him that was tailgating. The police came and wanted to take my dad in. I don't know if he was arrested for that or night. I remember riding home in a police car and the officer explaining to my mom that I was in an accident. I didn't see my dad for a while after that. For the longest time after that, everytime I rode in a car I would be putting the brakes on in the passenger side. I was affraid to ride in a car for a good year. Al would always look over at me and ask, "what are you doing?"
I don't think my mom would let me be in a car that my dad was driving for the longest time. My dad had a history of car accidents in every marriage he was in. Not fender benders, but major go through the windshield sorts of accidents. He used to tell me he had blackouts from them. I wasn't sure if it was from that or his drinking.
I believe the next time I saw my dad was when I was at my grandparent's house. I was sitting in my grandfather's chair in their living room watching television, and from out of no where my dad came up and said "Here, have a baby brother!" and handed me my brother Bart.