" RAF "
I'M NO ANGEL
BY RAFAEL YORDAN
Published by Rafael Yordan at Smashwords
Copyright 1994 Rafael Yordan
EDITED BY JOANN PIEKUT EVERRIA
Smashwords Edition
CHARACTERS IN THE BOOK
Main Character Raf Nadroy
Mother, Ivie (RIP)
Aunt, Beck (RIP)
Real Parents, Grandparents (RIP)
Father, James, Mr. Gimmick (RIP)
Brother, James Jr (RIP)
Sister, Mell
Uncle, Rudy (RIP)
Cousin, Pretty
First Stepfather, “The Mexican”, Mill’s Dad (RIP)
Second Stepfather, Mr Chuck Sr.
Step Sister, Demise
Step Sister, Moni
Step Brother, Chuck Jr.
First Wife, Dawn
Son, Nadroy Jr.
Son, Lion
Mistress, Women Jackie/No Lady
Second Wife, Lady Spring
Stepson, Older Red Head Sam
Stepson, Mik
Stepson, Younger Red Head Zip
Stepdaughter, Daze
Stepson, Little James
Common Law Stepmother, Nel
Sister In Law, The Other Nel
Sister In Law, Judy, Brother Joe's Former Wife.
Brother In Law, The JERK.
Best Friend, Wendell
Best Friend, Manning. RIP
This is the a fictional story narrated Raf Nadroy
Many people who take on the task of writing a book will start with the weather, or the time of day, or the night was. All I could remember was how high the steps to the bus were. Me being at my best guess three or four years old. I can recall the situation because one day while having a conversation with my grandparents the subject of traffic had entered the picture. The statement was how much traffic had increased over the years and the amount of cars that were parked on the street. Some were even doubled parked. I asked the question, how long ago was it that the bus would stop in front of the building on the other side of the street? They both looked at me as if I had said something wrong. I was actual more in shock. The answer was with a question of their own. Son you truly remember that?. I replied yes. The response was I must have been only three or four years old at the time. I myself was in a state of question. I had no idea I was that young. The bus stop was only a few hundred feet away from the entrance to my grandparents building. If you are from the city you will be able to picture the building. The old brick type that never died unless it was torn down to make room for one of those high-rise project buildings. As I mentioned only a few hundred feet away, yet I being so small it seemed like a mile. The year I am going to guess was 1949 or perhaps 1950.
Our grandparents were both very attractive couple. My grandfather was of the dark skinned in the Spanish race; actually he took after the old dark Spaniards that came over years ago from the old country to find a new world for themselves and their families. Our grandfather had jet black hair and our grandmother was from the other side of the Spanish race, she had hazel eyes with light brown hair. Both were a handsome couple and it showed. By the way they were born in Puerto Rico, just as my mother and aunt. They started it all. One light skinned and the other dark skinned. The reason I mentioned that is because my brother Joey came out the light skinned one and I followed my grandfather and was the dark skinned grandson of the family. Let's return to our grandparents. They both were extremely hard working people, honest and loyal to all concerned. What they lacked in education more than made up by being decent and kind. For years they struggled to make a living for the family and even just to put food on the table was hard for them. The lack of English held them back and things were rather difficult for them. Yet they accomplished it.
They raised my mother and aunt in the city to the best of their ability and they both received a good education for the times. They both had extremely high IQ's and always were ahead of the class. They also were super talented young ladies. In their early teens, their gift of music had started to be enjoyed by family and friends alike. My mother Ivie was on the guitar and my aunt Beck was on the violin. They were really good. They also had fantastic singing voices to accompany their instruments. Only one radio station at that time that played Spanish music and half the time it was difficult to receive on the radio because of the low wattage they produced. Yet, they knew talent when they saw it. One could say the young ladies made it to number one, if at the time the charts were around.
I recall as a child my mother and aunt rehearsing with the rest of the band for hours at a time. I often wondered when these people if at all slept. My thoughts go back; I could remember these people were truly good. The way they sang and danced, that's correct even dancing came into the picture. It was like watching one of those old Hollywood musicals yet it was New York and not Hollywood.
I recall those days, lawyers were not like today. They were busy with real legal situations and not just of being in the business of business. They had different ideals and morals. At those time people still trusted each other with deals, a deal was a deal. Not as today where everything requires a lawyer. To buy, to sell, to get married, to have children, and how to raise them according to the laws, to the schools they must attend, to finally the divorce. That's right the divorce. Over half of the people who try the institution of marriage will end up in divorce, due to the fact that many people only want to take, and not give. Yes, it's all the business of lawyers.
Yes, my mother and aunt did very well in the money situation. There was only one small problem brewing at that time. I'll give you one guess what it was? Booze. That golden liquid that has been the fall of many talented people even back then. I realize today there are worse things than booze. It's called progress. As in the past not much has changed, but one cannot tell these people anything, they have all the answers except at test time, and then they fall to shit. They must learn it for themselves. Hopefully it's not to late for them as it happened in the past. So many good talented people we have lost. So many start out well and yet they manage to end up with nothing. The golden liquid was as today the most widely used drug there is. Back then one hardly ever ran into a person on real hard drugs. They could not afford it. That was left for the people who had the money to hide it behind closed doors. Yet, today one could look everywhere and one will see or encounter young people on drugs. Those poor individuals that lay there with their body and soul with them, and their minds are out there like space travelers without a spacecraft.
I realize that being in the business of show business those days, as today, one has to mingle with the VIP's and have a drink or two. For many contracts had been signed in night clubs, and golf courses. Not only that but in those days many women performers had to sleep around in order to make it. I have no idea if my mother and aunt played that game? I deeply feel it never got to that. My grandfather was a man one did not mess with, especially concerning his daughters. All I could remember was seeing them play in the theaters while waiting in the wings. I have no idea why they called it that? In a way I could care less; my heart has never been to follow after my mothers foot steps in music. They always received standing ovations and the tons of flowers hit the stage. My grandparents were exceptionally proud of them. Yet, as time would have it, we have no control of life's situations, or they would have taken them out of the business in a heart beat. Who knew the family destruction that would follow? We cannot change the future, or even the past for that matter. The Sisters Rivera was their professional name. They happened to get extremely well know in the Spanish music circle. Yet, they continued playing at parties, and special functions as well as some of the better clubs in the city.
The time came when my mother and aunt could not take care of us, as a mother should, do due to the business. So at that time my brother and I moved in with our grandparents. Who knew that all of us grandchildren would be raised by people that in a short ten or fifteen years would be ready for retirement. Later in time we were joined by our little sister Mil and our cousin Patty. That was my aunt's daughter from her first marriage. Rudy, my aunt's first husband was the family comic. I can remember that every time he was around the family found them in deep laughter. Well the break up came, my aunt had some kind of break down, and that was the reason Patty joined the family. My sister Millie came into the picture later in time. Ivie and Beck was their name, the ones that started it all. My mother and aunt continued in the music business for several more years. By the time they were done we were very comfortable at our grandparent’s home. Needless to say we stayed with them. After all, not knowing what may happen in the future with my mother and aunt we were better off at our grandparent's place.
I remember some of the places we did live with our mother, on and off. I recall a place in the lower east side of Manhattan. I could remember that it must have been several stories high because it seemed it took forever to arrive at our apartment entrance. Those days the floors between landings were maybe ten or twelve feet apart which made the steps a long way between flights.
I can still picture my little sister Mill, she was so small, when wrapped in the blanket, and one could not even see her. I recall one incident while walking down the stairs, Joey and I hand, in hand, moving very slowly, as two little boys would do on steps that were half our size. My mother was holding our little sister like only a mother could. I remember she lost her footing and as quick as a flash she lost the grip on the baby. All I saw was the blanket rolling down the stairs, my little brother crying and calling mom out loud at the top of his voice. Let me explain those old steps were made of marble, a solid pretty rock. It would have killed anyone who would have fallen head first down them. Well here is little Joey crying. I looked down to see what was going on. Yes, I looked down, and there was my little super brother had caught our little sister by the head. The only problem was he caught her by the hair and was holding on for dear life. The little girl was also in hysterical and I am sure in deep pain, but at least little James who always was a fast thinker saved the baby's life. My mother embraced us both, after regaining her wits, returned to the baby's situation. She loving checked the baby out and found no serious damage, except to her pride, if babies have pride. Today we all know that babies do feel, and understand as little people do. Back then we had no idea that babies actually had thought. Back to the stairs. Us being little boys, we had no idea what little Joe had done. To save a life, because of a quick reaction of a small person. I guess the desire to stay alive is part of our make up. I recall my mother telling the story to many of her friends, and the rest of the family. I would relive the moment every time she had spoke of it. I could see it happening in my mind, time, and time again.
Thinking back on my life. It has only been forty five years since that happened. Yet, as we got older, and kids being kids, we all had our childish fights. I remember one in particular between Joe and our sister Mill. Out of anger Joey mentioned that he should have let her dropped that day on the steps. Of course he did not truly mean it. It was said because our grandmother had taken her side of the argument.
As time went on, and we cannot stop Mother Nature, we all were growing older and larger thanks to our grandparents. It had already been several years that Sister Millie had been with us, since the break up of our mother and the Mexican. The second man to give our mother children. Who knew that it would be the trend for our mother, to go from man, to man, without ever getting a divorce from our father? Without having consideration of what the future may bring. If she screwed up again with another unplanned child. I guess that's the way it was and always be. Our sister Mill was becoming a very attractive little girl with long and beautiful black hair. Mill’s father was called the Mexican. Yes the second man to give our mother children, but would not be the last. I will come back to the men in my mother’s life a bit later in the book.
You recall me stating our mother did not get a divorce from our father, well that's another story in it's self. I think my brother and I only spent maybe a year or so with our parents together. He left our mother for a very attractive lady he had met; at I think one of our family's friends or perhaps a family member's home.
Meanwhile back to Mill's father. He always was around for her with child support and fatherly support as well. Our grandparents never asked him for help. He was that kind of a man that knew his responsibility and did it. Whenever he took Millie out on the town he always included the rest of us children. He did not have to, but as I said he was that kind of a man. That would rather, than to just have his little girl have fun by herself, he included us in his plans. You see our grandparents, they were getting up in years and having to work so hard, they did not have the time, or the money to take us out very often. So it was at the most part Mill, Joe, “P” and myself, our trips were from visits to the Zoo, to walks in the park. In those days Central Park was a place to take the family. It was beautiful. This was allot more than I could say my biological father did. Who was never around, with the exception to ask for help, or information? This was the Gimmick man. Mill's father was a real dad to us. Since our grandparents were always working hard and truly appreciated him taking us around with little Mill. Of course our grandparents also had time for us in other ways. I recall the birthday parties, and the family get together for the holidays. When all was laid assure to enjoy each others company.
Until that Fuck'n Booze came out. Then the impossible happened. The nice people that they were a few short hours ago turned out to be real Assholes, I mean Major Assholes.
On the other side of the coin the guitar came out. My brother who had already been playing the piano for some years now. I must say, the shit head was good. Yes the music started to flow. By this time my mother and aunt had already retired from the music business, you see one cannot keep having babies and continue to stay in the business these days. It was a matter of travel and public relations.
As I mentioned my brother had been playing the piano for some time. He started at a very young age, the age when kids should be playing with toys. I myself never had an ear for music, let me restate that. I did not have an ear for music at that age. Yet, I tried it just not to dissatisfy my grandfather, but being more of a strong willed kid than Joe, I said no to my grandparents. I truly felt it would have been a waste of money, and time, for them to keep me in music. I wish now that I had taken the lessons. I recall the battles our grandmother and Joe had over the practice hours that he was unwilling to do. He was a lazy kid and rather spoiled, but then again we all were. He also, as our mother had, a very high IQ for his age, but never showed it in many ways. On the other hand I was the dummy of the kids. I had very poor school grades. I would do only enough to get by on. Stop and think about it, we were just kids.
I recall all the classical music Joe played. You see, he made it into Music And Art High School which was one of the best schools in the city. I found myself actually liking the music. So I also became a classical music nut. My friends thought I was nuts. That was all right by me, for like our grandfather once said " They don't pay the bills". But while Joe was playing the piano, I was playing baseball at the corner school yard. I had no idea till about seven years ago how much my brother hated me for that. Again we were just kids. I have always been more active than Joey in many ways. So book learning was not one of my favorite things until I entered the military. No, that's not correct. I actually started hitting the books when I entered high school. You see, I knew what I wanted to do for a living, and I had to shoot for it. But it required work, which was something I just did to get by, before high school. From the time I entered high school, I went from a C/D student to a B/C student.
I fell in love with a profession that took allot of my time in the shop. It was a Draftsman Layout and fabricator of sheet metal duct work, with intricate fittings. At first I felt that I have bit off more than I could chew. But in a matter of a few semesters, I fell into the grove. I truly could say I became good at it. For I made a very good income doing that work for many years. In my travels, and while being employed at a small air conditioning company located in the town of New London, NH.
I met a lady from New York who's father had broken in my former teacher, the one who broke me into the trades. She was still in contact with Mr. Schwartz the man who could see I was to be one of his best. After over twenty years of graduating from my high school, and most likely hundreds of students, he had pushed through that school, in a Christmas letter from my newly acquired friend the question was asked. Do you remember Rafael? I was so very proud the answer was yes. Think of it, after all those years, all those kids, and still he remembered me. So I did it. I graduated, and away I went.
After all who could blame me? Because of the history of my family's past, anyone in their right mind would want to go. Yes, I could not wait to leave the family and the city I was raised in and the house. The house that had seen so much life and even death. We all must go when the time comes. Besides I truly did not care for what the city had become. I never was part of that scene. Besides I was to young to drink and after the destruction of the family due to the golden liquid. I sure the fuck did not want to become like my mother. Oh I tried it once when I was young and after becoming sick as a dog. I felt I had better use for my money.
I was only seventeen when I graduated from high school. So I needed my mothers signature to enlist in the Navy. I still by law could not drink and play the games, kids play at that age. The age where those kids let their Dicks get the best of them. It's sad so many never finish being children, because of the unexpected babies. Yet it became apparent that it was just a joke on the block. Let's see who could knock up as many as possible. Pretty Sick. Of course, I still played the game with some of the young girls my age, but I was more interested in airplanes than girls. I knew I would have the airplanes much longer than the girlfriends. Times were changing and the kids were growing up faster than in the past, I think it was better Twinkees. Yet, I WAS NO ANGEL and I tried it too, but not to get fucked up, fucked yes, but not fucked up.
Now that we are older and the advancements in the medical field we know the truth about our bodies. All our hormones were kicking in. I did it a few times but never all the way. I never finished inside the girl. I truly wanted to leave for the military. I did not care to leave a young woman with my baby at that time. At the age of seventeen I was still a virgin when it came to me giving a girl my sex offering, at least in the normal way. But I do recall having sex with a very pretty young black girl. I am going to guess she was in her early teens. It happened on the top floor of a high-rise project building. Which was located near the grade school I had attended. PS 57. I was about ten years old and I had no idea what I was doing. I just followed my friends instructions and went at it. My friend was a much older kid who already developed all the way. I myself was still rather small because of my age. My friends erection was large. I could see the young girls was enjoying every inch of it. Yet, the girl knew the rules, and was very helpful with showing me what to do. I guess it sounds funny now that I think of it. I could not even ejaculate yet. So how much did I know.
In my early teens I did experiment with sex with a girl I deeply loved but I knew it could never be, for she was my cousin “P. I never went all the way with her we just learned to do oral sex with each other. It was safer. By this time I had developed completely and I was proof the outcome. You see the picture. I knew that if I had gone all the way with her, I surely would have given her a baby. We were in love with each other, but truly never realized it till later in life. Yet it was more than puppy love. I think our grandparents would have killed us if they found out what was going on. We had made love to each other so many times, but never all the way. My god, I wanted to so many times but I feared the outcome. I wish I had, now for seeing, I could have given her a much better life than the one she has had in the city.
By the time I was sixteen I had developed into a very strong and extremely well built young man. I was still a bit over weight, but I had it where it counted. Equally “P” developed into a very pretty and slender young lady. My goodness we had some real good times with each other. It was so natural for us to go down on each other. I called it the magic 69. I realize it was wrong, but we loved each other so I did not feel guilty about it. Time went on and she moved in with her mother in a Bronx apartment. I was broken hearted of course but what can I do.
The problem was that we were all in high school now, and it was truly difficult money wise for our grandparents to push us through school. Beck, my aunt, took “P”, and my mother, took Mill, to live with them, so it left Joey and I. Oh we still saw other several times a week, so we truly never lost contact with each other. One of the last times I was with “P” was due to the fact that my mother needed some work done at her place. It was just over the holidays and the old tree had to be taken down for the next days trash collection. We also had to clean up where the tree had been. It was one of the last holidays before I entered the military.
“P” and I arrived at the apartment, and we both knew what we wanted. For it had been some time since we were together as lovers. She said let's get going to get the job done. I said right, and bullshit. I gave her a hug and gently walked her to the bath room where we both washed. From there the next location was the bedroom. Nothing had to be said. We finish undressing each other, man that was great. It was so natural for us. Yet again we did not go all the way, all the way in a normal sense. After going down on me and truly turning each other on, I had to do something with my passion. What I did do was very gently and very carefully have anal sex with her. I was very concerned about hurting her. I moved extremely slow and allowed her to move at her pace. For the first time I entered her all the way. I was rather large and I did not penetrate her all the way. It was her first time. I know it was a bit painful for her, yet at the same time I could see how turned on she was getting. Very slowly in and out and I could not hold it for very long. For the first time I came into her. I must have come a gallon, or so it seemed. I had no worries because I knew she would not get pregnant. After I finished I held her gently and started asking if she was OK?. She saw the worry in my eyes, and assured me it was all right. I again, asked are you sure? She gave me a small kiss. We both returned to the bath room in order to clean up. I have no idea if “P” reached a climax, but I am sure she enjoyed it. I guess I had felt guilty for the act. That was the reason I had kept asking her about her condition. She assured me she was OK. You know if it were allowed, I think now I feel that would have married her. But being my cousins, I am sure our parents would have not agreed with it. That was the last time we were together as lovers.
As time went on, we had to attend different schools with different schedules. so we lost contact with each other, at least as lovers anyhow. We still saw each other at family get togethers, we would kiss, but not as lovers do. To this day I don't think anyone knew till now, that it all came out in this book. Then again I may be wrong?.
One brief encounter with my little cousin lover before she had moved out of the house. I was called to the kitchen for supper, I had to travel through my bed room which was in the middle of the apartment. As I was going through my bed room my dear “P” recalled for me to come to supper. She had her panties pulled over to one side. I bent down to eat all right, but it was not food. To cover up the situation “P” called for me again as if I were still in the living room. Talk about a super hot moment. That truly turned me on but at that time I could not continue to, how shall I say it, continue to have that lovely little sexual snack. I know it was crazy for our grandparents were only two rooms away. But we both enjoyed it. For a while there before “P” had moved out she did not want to do it any more. I guess she was growing up and started to feel guilty about it. I just let her be, and started to talk about our past adventures. Before I knew it, she was all over me saying you are a bastard. I just laughed and went along with her. We both were watching TV, one of those TV's that took up the entire corner of a room. It was like a piece of furniture, but no way as good as the piece I just had. After the fact, we just sat there both fairly tired and truly started to watch the TV. Like usual never all the way at that time.
It never occurred to me that she will be going all the way with someone else in the future. It happened while I was in the military. Shortly after arriving home on leave I found out that “P” had moved back to Manhattan. I asked where?, I was pleased to find out she was living just around the corner from our grandparents apartment. The one we all were raised at. On leave, I would always make the rounds to all our family and try to spend equal time with all of them. So Grandma, Joe and myself went for the visit to my former little lover's place.
As we approached the door to her apartment Joe turned slowly and gave me an advanced warning concerning “P”’s condition. So the first baby she was carrying was in development. I truly felt bad. I tried to hold it from showing, but I guess I did not do a good job of it. Later, I was to find out that “P” had started to cry on my grandmother's shoulders saying Rafy does not love me anymore. That could not be further from the truth. I never stopped loving her. After all, one never forgets their first love, especially when it concerns the sex part of it. But it could never be. At that time, even pregnant “P” looked good, just as my former first wife, who will come into the picture later in the book. Our grandmother being the wise lady that she was, came back to “P” with the answer that I still loved her. I just was in shock to see her in that conditioned. I think maybe they knew after all. But nothing was said about it. There is no one to blame but myself.
I was the one who awakened her sexual desires, and then I was no longer around. well such is life my friend, such is life. The sad matter of it all, was that the guy that had done the harm to her was a real Jackass. The typical low life of the times. Another school drop out, another one with all the answers. But had no idea how to care for a women and a child, but knew all about the vices of the times. He turned out to be a real looser, the kind that would spend all his life behind solid metal bars. Well the baby came, a pretty little boy. One of the first great grandson. One of several others to come.
Like so many of the city creations the little boy grew up at a rapid rate. It became his time for love, if one could call it that. His so-called woman, after seeing a mink coat on TV truly wanted one. So, as a real shit head, found himself with a toy gun, pulling a robbery to acquirer the mink coat. Needless to say the outcome. He joined the many at the metal bar country club. I recall he received several years for that stunt. My cousin “P” as you can imagine was broken hearted. I realize a mother is always a mother no matter the situation. I guess that was when her welfare life started. I cannot recall her being a high school graduate, so where else could she turn to. It was such a waste because she was a real fantastic looking young women. It just was not in the Cards.
You recall that I had mentioned that we were a two color family, well my sister Mill was one of the white ones and cousin “P” had my dark skin. She was a dark complexion sweetheart. Like myself we both had jet black hair as our grandfather. Mill also had dark hair but her skin color was the white Spanish type. Her father the Mexican was another light skinned person. Several years before I entered the military Mill, poor Mill, had become a woman at a very young age. My poor little sister, may she RIP, had developed at a rapid rate before I left. A baby in a woman's body. She could not handle it. Yet the men in the area knew she was just a child, but these jerks could truly care less. They saw a young woman that needed taking care of in the sex department. REAL CLASS.
As usual the clock will not stand still for no one, and I was to enter the military service. So away I went. During my first leave I saw more of a change in my little sister. After several years in the Navy, many things did change in the family. I again had to return to continue my tour of duty in the Navy. Out of no where I found myself almost in tears because the Viet Nam War was at it's height. I did not want to upset my grandparents, so I kept my duty to myself. I was in fear that I would have to return there. By the time I arrived my fear was forgotten because one does not have the time to think about it when you are there. Than again I was not in the heat of things. I was aboard ship playing with airplanes. The family found out I was over there. Since that stupid war, (that they did not let us win) was a television war. They would watch the evening news to see if my name came up on the screen in subtitle form. A hell of a thing to put a family through.
The other big reason I did not want to leave, was due to all the shit the family was going through, because of my mother, Patty, and the fear that my little sister may fuck up. She did but later in life.
Before I joined the Navy. All was not as bad over there. Until one day while serving off the cost of the South China Sea we heard the news. The American embassy was blown up by the North Viet Nam. That's when all shit hit the fan. We were put into action, from then on it became a very long war. Or I should say a police action. That was one hell of a police action that we had to loose fifty thousand Americans. It had to turn out that way since the people in Washington were not there. General George Patton said it best. War is for generals and their fighting men and not those fat cats in Washington. Well enough of that.
Returning to my story, I had trained as an aviation engine mechanic and was assigned to a anti-submarine squadron stationed at North Island Santiago California. From there we would deploy on the old USS Yorktown out of Long Beach California. So I was on a aircraft carrier away from all the shit, or so we thought. To many things happened even at sea, one was truly never safe. We were in a combat zone, and who could figure out what would Charley do next. Besides being young and stupid about things of that nature, the war truly did not bother me, it was my family that had my head fucked up.
The family that I had ran away from because of all the shit my mother put us through. On the other hand I was proud to do my duty even though it was the unpopular thing to do. I was never one to go with the pack. Most of the time, I always did my own thing. If I did anything with my friends, it's because I cared to, and not because they were doing it. In a way I was happy to be returning to the service every time I had leave. I had allot less problems over there than at home. I returned to finish my tour of active duty and I continued my worldly travels again. With in time I left the family problems behind. It could have caused me my life if I did not keep the subject I was working on at hand. Yet, I think back we in many ways had a good family with the exception of a few that screwed it up for all the rest.
Let's return to my teen years before the service, and while still attending high school. I have to admit they were fairly good days for me even with all my family bullshit. Even though we were poor I never had to work, unless I cared to for an extra, which our grandparents could not afford.
BY THE WAY TO MY READERS, I WILL BE GOING BACK AND FORT BECAUSE SO MANY THINGS HAPPENED IN THE SAME TIME PERIOD THAT IT WOULD BE DIFFICULT TO KEEP THEM IN SOME KIND OF ORDER.
I grew up with the rest of the children, and Patty and I were doing our thing whenever possible. Our hormones were in full gear, need I say anymore.
My mother had never changed. She continued with her life style. Even though “C” Sr. was a good provider, our mother was never happy, and always wanted more. Dear reader, I knew you are asking who the hell is “C”. “C” was our third common law stepfather our mother got involved with. He was always a hard working man and always doing different things that were extra to make more money for the family, the family he had started with our mother. “C” Sr. was and still is a very smart person especially with money. Our mother and the kids never went without. Many times all the other children were included with his kids, but not at first. Yet, there was a small problem in the eyes of our mother. The problem developed right from the start of her having his children. Some words were said that had cut deep into our mother’s heart. "I don't want your kids around mine to contaminate them". That hit mom as if someone had inserted a ice pick into her heart. “C” Sr. did not truly know us at the time. Because of the comfort of the children and her lifestyle mom just took it in and nothing was said. Back then very few knew about displaced anger. Those words would later come back and haunt her. I guess that was one of the factors she had turned out to be as she was. That was not the main factor for my mothers actions in the future, just a small part that would effect the family. By the way I use the name “C” Sr. because of the little boy they would have in the future with the same name.
While still in high school and on one of those Saturday afternoons, I was taking a nap, my mother walked in. She had come to visit our grandparents or so it seemed. Yet, she always spent more time on the street than in the house. Those streets of New York, the ones that could bring out the best in people or the worse. In the summer time they all came out of the woodwork. It happened to be that time of the year. So as I started to say, I was taking a nap, I had just awoke, but I was still laying there very quiet. My face was facing the back of the sofa when my mother and a much younger woman than her were discussing how to make extra money by picking up some of the men on the streets. My wonderful mother said, I know I could get twenty for myself, but you being so much younger, and pretty would be able to get fifty. I laid there very silent so as to not let them know I was awake. I truly have no idea if they pulled it off. I do recall the younger women was against the idea. By her voice, I knew who the woman was and I must say she really was a beauty. If I were a man at the time, and in the market I for sure would have gone with her. But let me continue my story. Today I know it was the Booze talking. Yes, the golden liquid. But I recall feeling like shit after hearing my mother talk like that.
I never told anyone about that with the exception of my brother Joe, about thirty years later, after we began seeing each other again. We had been talking about our family and all the shit we went through while growing up as young people. I thank god our grandparents gave us more of a normal household. At the time I spoke to Joey about this we were both in our thirties and he was living in Connecticut. What a mother.
Today I realize how she fucked up all our heads and I thank god, I left when I did. I think back to the musical rock opera PINK FLOYD THE WALL, and the way his mother screwed up the kids head also. I thank god ours were not that bad. Again I thank our grandparents for all their support and guidance. We would have not made it without them. Us children would always talk openly to our grandparents about many things including sex. When the subject came up, and of course it came up many times because we were growing into young adults. and I am sorry to say faster than I truly cared to.
My grandfather and I were real buddies, we had so many talks together on many a subject. Him in his wooden chair by the window and I on the sofa. I recall sitting in his chair some times when he was not home. I felt much closer to him when I did use his chair. A small thing like that was important to me. I would never sit in his chair, out of respect, when he was home. Respect something allot of young people know little about these days. In my second marriage, which will come into the book later, I tried to explain that to my second wife's offspring's, but they just could not understand. Please understand my grand father was also my friend, all in one package.
In the summer of 1960, I had just turned fourteen years old. I recall spending time over my mothers house. I cannot recall where “C” Sr. was at the time. My mother had already moved into the new high-rise building which were built on the other side of 138 street. It was a modern building for the time. Little Moni was the last baby girl mom had with “C” Sr. She was still in diapers. Those days disposable diapers were not on the market. They still used the old fabric diapers. I remember the laundry that had to be done for the diapers alone. I myself was never a diaper person. I just did not have the stomach for it. I remember trying to change little Monique's diaper, then running to the bath room to throw up. A hell of a thing a young person should go through. My mother was out somewhere doing her usual shit, and I was home taking care of the kids, You know to this day I still cannot change a diaper. Here I was trying to get little Monique from crying. She was clean and fed, so I had no idea why the baby was in tears. I even checked to see if one of the safety pins may had come loose. So there I was waking the floor with the baby, at the same time wondering where the hell was my mother, and also hoping she was OK. Do you know what that can do to a young person's head. Back and forth, back and forth, over the same tracks while holding the baby. Nothing would help, even the TV was no comfort. All I could remember was that scream of Moni. I myself with tears in my eyes, and could do nothing about it. I feel that was when I started to dislike my mother.
DEAR LADY "A2" NOW YOU KNOW WHY. I HAD THE ATTITUDE ABOUT DIAPERS THAT I SHOWED WHEN WE WERE MARRIED TO EACH OTHER. SORRY.
So with the baby crying, the diapers, and the concern about my mothers well being, it was a stressful situation, a situation that a young person should not be put through. It was I think two or three in the morning when she finally returned back home. Yes she was fuck'n drunk. She also had company with her. One of those asshole drunk Spanish men, the kind that one would see on the street, the kind with bloodshot eyes and the facial cheeks hanging down. Needless to say I was pissed. My wonderful mother introduced me, and like a jerk, I shook the guys hand. He left quickly and I said to myself, why the hell did I shake the guys hand. My mother could see how pissed off I was, and did not say a word to me. Hear I was playing the role of the parent, instead of the child that I was. I was angry at mom, and the asshole who kept her out all night, and also the shit I went through that night with the baby. Of coarse my mother did not remember a thing the next morning. I felt, what the fuck is a woman with children is doing on the streets at that hour of the night.
MY DEAR FIRST WIFE LADY "A" NOW YOU KNOW. WHY I WAS SO ANGRY AT YOU WHEN YOU PULLED THE SAME THING ON ME, THE SAME THING MY MOTHER PUT ME THROUGH. OF COURSE YOU WERE NOT AS DRUNK AS SHE WAS.
I promise myself that I would never walk the floor again for any woman. That came back and hit me right between the eyes. When lady "A" pulled the same shit. Lady "A" was a nice lady, but we both could see the change. You see lady "A" never had the liberty that her younger sister had, lady "S". Lady "A"'s older sister Nellie had gotten married just to leave the house. Who could blame her, their father was an animal drunk. At that time it left lady "A", and her little sister in the house, lady "S". You see their mother had walked out after all the years of abuse, by the so-called father. Yes so lady "A" and young lady "S" stayed in the house after the older women had left. Lady "A" wound up trying to do the work of a woman instead of remaining a child.
Back to my mother and the high school days, needless to say that was the last summer I spent with my mother. I would not allow myself to be put through that again. I did not even want to visit her. My grandmother noticed the change and asked me what the problem was. I let it all out on what had happened, her words I will never forget. In Spanish she said "That bitch". After all she was my true mother, since the years that my mother and aunt were in show business.
Now another family member, or I should say a distant family member. My SPERM DAD. That was I called my real father. Yet, we all know who our real father was. It was our grandfather. He was there for us in sickness, or any other life's situations that may come our way. One summer afternoon while playing on the street a person in a brand new Chevy Impala pulled up to the side walk. I heard the horn blow. I looked up at this person, who looked just like my brother Joey but much older. You got it, it was Mr. Sperm dad himself. It was so many years since I had seen him.
While writing this book I recall the time him and our mother were having a discussion in the car. I was a very little boy because I could not see out the window of the car. The subject was concerning a woman, that was also visiting the same place as we were. Our mother said something like, What a beautiful woman the lady was. I can't recall if we were at a friends house, or even a family members house?. Her name was Nell.
Let me return to my Sperm dad. So I knew who this person was, but he was still a stranger to me as far as I was concerned. I greeted him with respect, the respect a child would give a member of the family, but not as his son. As I said my father was up stairs, and not with me at the time. Besides, I also had another dad, the Mexican, Mill's father, who was around for Mill, and also for us other children. So this person was a true stranger to me. Yet, looking so much like my brother that anyone on the street could see who he was. As a matter of fact, when my brother Joe finally got married, with his first and last wife Judy. They had taken their honeymoon in Puerto Rico. While talking to some of our distant family members that were in contact with our father Joe. The question came up " What happened to Nell?" our common law stepmother. My brother was in shock. I'm Joe Jr., not my father he informed them. That's how much they looked alike. Take my word my brother did not appreciate it at all. At the same time that our Sperm dad had returned into our lives I was having the problem with my mother in the Bronx.