Slavery Was Practiced, Killer Was The Master

Have you ever thought you were losing your mind? You wake up one day and wonder how you've held it together without coming apart at the seams? All the logic and common sense you have relied on to get through each minute of your life, disappeared at the snap of a finger. Poof. Gone.

Well, in the summer of 1986, I was there. I was at the end of my rope of hope.  I could breath and I could see the light at the end of the tunnel.  I had a plan.  All I needed to do was to follow it and I'd be fine, but I lost my mind. I stopped caring about any thing and anyone except for me.

Summers were filled with conferences and travel and I hit the road hard. The week before Worm was to leave I had a conference up at Grand Traverse Resort.  It was a Risk Manager conference and part of my Management by Objectives was that I had to attend so many conferences that our members attended.  I loved going to these conferences. After my moment of defying Killer, I felt free to go out and have fun at these conferences with the attendees who I had come to know quite well with my travels. 

I welcomed the opportunity to not be under the watchful eye of Killer. I discovered quickly, most attending these conferences forgot what their real life was back home.  I had never been apart of the night life or the college life, I went from graduating from high school to being a full time mom, wife and career woman. I enjoyed the attention, the flirting, the compliments and the fun!

There had been several men who kept an eye on me and had I picked up on their suggestions, I could have had my pick from a small litter, but I had to remember, Killer knew many of the people I worked with, so stepping across that boundary was not an option.  I was not out to hurt anyone and my Mother had told me the day before I was married that if I ever decided to "play around," do it on my own time.

One particular man also worked for MHA. He was the manager of the Risk Management Department.  In a dark room, filled with smoke and a heavy dose of alcohol flowing in my veins, I would not have given him a second look and I was not in this environment at all. He was persistent and I was unapproachable.  He had asked me to lunch one day, long before this conference to discuss coordinating trips to our members to do educational seminars.  I really thought that is what he wanted to talk about, but we talked about everything but.  I didn't give it a second thought, but at this conference, he handed me a book and suggested I read it.

It was a paperback on taking "risks." Personal risks. It addressed making the move to leave a situation where you felt trapped whether it was a job or relationship on to happiness and the risk you would face and how you weighed the pros and cons. 

I had no clue why he gave this to me.  I didn't talk about Killer to anyone nor did I talk about my marriage unless it was all how happy I was and how much I admired him. But Michael  had an agenda, it just wasn't clear to me at that moment.

Michael was older than Killer, by a year.  He was in the same line of work as Killer only dealing with malpractice in the  hospital setting verses the doctor himself.  They knew each other and I would later discover didn't care for one another at all.

In late June I started looking for my next nest.  I had money tucked away to make this work.  I knew my budget. I knew I would have to start over with very little to set up a home.  I found an apartment that fit my needs in early July.  It was difficult to apartment hunt given my schedule.  I was on the road often and if I was in town, I had to do my search during my lunch hour as I was still expected to be home playing my role as housewife and maid.

Killer fell back into his pattern of a man's work is outside and a woman's work is inside when Worm ran away.  I knew my days were numbered and so I became a little bolder, what was  he going to do, kill me?

He insisted clothes be hung outside in from spring until fall.  He had a method for hanging clothes outside.  Sheets went on the outside and  his underwear went on the inside so the neighbors couldn't see them.  By now, six years into this marriage, my bra collection had grown to 72 choices.  I may have several in the same style, but a different color, but the trend of circling his favorites in the catalog twice a year and my ordering them continued as well as the naming of each and the modeling, photographing and cataloging each over the shoulder boulder holder. Those could be hung on the outside.  I guess he didn't mind that the neighbors saw my bras, but not his tighty whities. 

I still continued to select his clothes each evening  and hung them up when I came home.  Even if I was gone for several days, he'd lay them in Worm's room for my return to hang them up.  He expected his shirts ironed, meals cooked, kitchen and house cleaned and he sat in the library and watched television.  Once a week he mowed the lawn and it was always on Saturday, the day I hung the  laundry out.  This increased my work as I had to shake the grass clippings off the laundry and more clothes had to be ironed that were perma press and wrinkle free if they were dried in the dryer. 

He liked to be waited on. When he wanted coffee or a snack, he'd yell for me and expected me to come to the door and ask him what he wanted.  When Killer called, you did not respond by yelling back from where ever you were, you came to the location he was in and asked him what he wanted from you. And if he wanted coffee and a snack, you dropped whatever you were doing and you made him whatever he wanted. And you had to know when he was done as he expected you to return to retrieve said dishes and take care of them.  

During our marriage, one evening I was sick and did not feel well.  He had gotten up to go to the bathroom and I called for him to bring me some thing back to drink. He came back to the bedroom and had nothing in his hands that resembled a beverage of any kind.  "Where is my drink?"  Another moment in history was noted, "If you want something to drink, get up and get it."  Note to self, another small reason I needed to move on, I was not a partner for better or worse. 

It was laundry day and I was home cleaning the house, preparing to go grocery shopping, and doing what I needed to do every week to maintain the house.  I wanted to dry the clothes so that I could get the ironing out of the way without waiting for it to dry on the line and then having more to iron.  He came downstairs because he smelled the dryer vent outside. "Beadie, clothes need to be hung out, it's nice outside, you know how much I like the smell of the air dried laundry." 

How could I forget this? I'd been doing this for six years! He left to go back to his lawn work.  I removed the clothes from the dryer and put them in the laundry basket.  I was arguing with myself inside over this stupid desire of his to hang the clothes outside and as I reached that top step, I had an epiphany! Why had I not thought of this before.

I opened up the back door that went outside to the garage and I whistled for Killer.  He came to the back door and I handed him the laundry basket, filled with wet clothes.  "By the way, clothes are hung outside and that is a man's job." Needless to say, I could use the dryer any time I wanted to now.