Bitter Sweet Child

Bitter Sweet Child PART ONE CHAPTER ONE South Valle Hermoso, Mexico, 1969 He pressed his body against hers. “Guapa relájate!” (Relax gorgeous.) She could not stop tensing her muscles. It was as if she were a stone. Nothing could soften her. “Conchita, you’ll like it if you just relax. It won’t hurt so much,” he pleaded. His rough beard felt like sandpaper against her soft skin. The combination of cigarettes and alcohol on his breath made her nostrils seize up as she tightened even more. The bitter, putrid odor coated the inside of her throat right down to her lungs. The air passage began to swell and climb up toward her mouth reaching out for fresh air blocking her breathing completely. She forced herself to open her mouth wide and gulp in more of the rancid air being expulsed out of his vile body. She had to close her mouth firmly as more of the slimy air particles from his breath were rushing in sliding down her throat. Each breath made her sicker. Oh how she wished she could cease breathing, but nature would not permit it. She dared not retch. ‘How can this be happening to me? Was it like this for mama too?’ San Diego, California, USA, 2006 When David Henshaw awoke on Saturday morning April 9, he could not have imagined his life was going to change forever. If alive now, he could not begin to tell how it happened. David turned 51 in December and for some unfathomable reason started to look back at his life and wish he had done things differently. When the regrets he should have suffered between 45 and 50 didn’t materialize, he was lulled into believing he had been spared. David lived through his father’s mid-life crisis and witnessed how it ruined his parent's marriage. What went wrong? He never understood. His mother would not discuss it. It was a closed book. His father on the other hand was broken-hearted and even after remarrying a most wonderful and caring woman who loved him deeply, he still resented the breakup of his marriage with his mother. Today was the annual Spring party to which he invited his friends, relations, associates and some employees for a BBQ. His closest friend from his high school days was the first to arrive to lend him a hand, followed closely by his cousin Antonio Iannuzzi, nicknamed Tony. He could always count on them for such events as his wife normally made herself scarce on these days. Sometimes she disappeared for the whole day and returned late at night, which was the signal to end the party. As the sun set over the blue Pacific turning the high clouds into pink sugar candy, David served the hamburgers, sausages and spicy chicken wings. Uncharacteristically he had decided earlier in the day to get drunk. His mother had instilled in him it was possible to have a good time without alcohol, but he made up his mind not to heed her this day. Upon Wilma’s return, David wanted to be well inebriated and his senses dulled; so that, whatever she did or said would not distress him. As the hour approached of her dreaded homecoming, he wandered around the house in a stupor with an expression of stupid bliss on his face. It was becoming difficult for him to concentrate and impossible to carry on a coherent conversation. An aura of nervousness and foreboding gradually and stealthily engulfed the party goers. A few people began to leave, David tried in vain to persuade them to stay, but they insisted it was time to go. Their reasons were neither convincing nor explicit. The earlier rowdiness of the guests was replaced with controlled and hushed tones. The remaining crowd of 50 broke up into smaller groups of between 5 and 10 and dispersed around the house and yard. He stumbled back and forth between one clique and another, whereupon his appearance was always greeted with camaraderie, cheers and smiles. 1 Bitter Sweet Child - © Zane Ryan 2012-2017 Valle Hermoso, 1969 “Chicas!” No she did not want to go there. She tried to sleep, but it would not come. “I can’t help myself. You are so beautiful and young. Still unspoiled by disappointment and resentment. You have your whole life before you.” Valle Hermoso, 1970 “Chicas! ¡Chicas! ¡Chicas!” (Girls) “Déjenos, Papi, por favor.” (Leave us alone, Daddy, please) “Pero sois muy lindas.” (But you’re so beautiful) “Déjenos, Papi, déjenos.” “Una vez más.” (One more time) “¡No, por favor, No!” (No, please, no) San Diego 2006 Any moment Wilma would reappear. He did not want to be at the front of the house when she arrived. He went out the back toward a group sitting at the far end of the pool with the cascading waterfall in full flow. There were three women and four men. They had their backs to him. “Do you remember,” Lou Ella started out, “when Wilma came back early last year and David did not introduce her to anyone at the party?” “Oh God yes,” replied Amy. “She went mental.” “Oh yeah?” Fred asked, “What did she do?” “I’ve never seen anything like it,” said Lou Ella. “She was shouting at how inconsiderate he was and how everyone else had ignored her.” “Oh, she was furious,” added Amy. “It was as if Hell had landed at this house.” “The woman’s a total psycho,” continued Lou Ella. “She doesn’t want to be at these parties, but as soon as she arrives, it turns nasty. I'm getting the hell out of here before she comes back.” “She's a sour puss,” added Amy. “No, shit!” remarked Fred. “I think I'll stick around. It sounds like fun.” “Fred!” his wife Lucy chided him. “Maybe for us, but can you imagine having to live with that?” remarked Amy. His friend Wilson was sitting amongst them gazing into the pool without contributing to the conversation. “Do you guys remember the last Padres game we went to and she decided to come along?” asked Tom. 2 Bitter Sweet Child - © Zane Ryan 2012-2017 “Oh man, that was ugly,” said Jack. “What happened?” asked Lou Ella. “At the beginning of the 7th inning, the Padres were having a terrible game. The chances of them turning it around and winning were pretty slim. Well, Wilma gets up and leaves the rest of us. We were eight guys there. She was the only wife there. She came back at the end of the 8th inning, by which time the Padres had miraculously tied. She had a go at David screaming at him for not following her when she got up.” “What did he do?” asked Amy. “Well, he got up and left with her.” “Jesus!” remarked Fred. “She must be fierce!” “You wouldn't think so by the size of her,” said Tom, “She's a foot shorter than him.” David decided he’d heard enough. He went to look for another beer. As he approached the kitchen, he overheard Jerry saying to his wife Doris, “Honey, we'd better get going before Wilma’s back.” “Oh sweetie,” she said mischievously, “That's the only reason I agreed to come. I missed out on her fit last year.” “You're wicked,” he laughed. David headed toward the garage from where the sound of a ping pong ball was being swatted back and forth. He heard people conversing in low voices over the constant smacks. The door leading from the house to the garage was open. Just as he was about to enter he overheard Ramsey saying, “That was terrible what she did to Fabian’s little dog, Smuggles.” “What?” inquired Heather. “She nearly kicked the poor little thing to death?” “She did what!” stammered Linda. “She was really mad at Fabian, because he’d not done his homework and what really upset her was he refused to do it and screamed at her that he hated her and hated his teacher.” “So why take it out on the poor dog?” questioned Heather. “Well, in fairness to Wilma, the boy was screaming at her, she was screaming back and Smuggles got between them barking and growling at her. So she gave it a mighty kick sending the little bugger flying across the room.” “Oh my God!” exclaimed Heather. “Just then,” continued Ramsey, “David came through the door. He calmed things down and took the dog off to the vet. One of its lungs was ruptured and nearly died.” David changed his mind, started to turn around and go back into the house, when he heard Ramsey say, “That was 3 Bitter Sweet Child - © Zane Ryan 2012-2017 nothing like what she did to the horse.” “Oh, don’t tell me it gets worse!” exclaimed Linda. “She shot Leah’s horse right in front of her.” “Jesus, this woman’s totally mental,” said Heather in shock. The sound of clashing rubber, wood and plastic stopped. Bertie suddenly interjected, “She nearly went to prison for that one.” The bangs resumed again. “What happened?” asked Linda, her voice now sounding less surprised than before. “Leah came over to our house after school with our daughter Ruby. Wilma had told Leah to be home by 7. My wife Evelyn was going to bring her home, but she was running late. At 7:15 she called Leah and told her to be home or else. The poor girl became frantic, she called Evelyn and told her to hurry home, but she was stuck in a traffic jam due to an accident.

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