The Toy Box

Our dad, Angela's and mine, tried to emulate the way granddad Herrmann did things. He came pretty close too. Poor mom; she was like a hummingbird flitting all around trying to please everybody.

I want to say this again; dad wasn't mean or abusive. He gave mom anything she wanted and everything she ever asked for. I never saw him lay a hand on her except to hug and kiss her, and he was affectionate most of the time. She just never got a chance to think for herself.

Now I'm not complaining. I saw how the other half lived. What's the old joke; "How can you tell the bride and an Irish wedding? She has two black eyes." Being Catholic there were quite a few Irish parishioners, and most of my friends were either south German, Irish Catholic, or Polish.

If anyone ever wanted to see a family quarrel; they should've visited my friends the O'Hara's or the Flaherty's. I'll say, Irish moms know how to stir the kettle, and I'll add it was like the smaller the mom the bigger the mouth and the more raucous the brawl. I watched Patrick Flaherty's five foot mom once back her six foot husband into a corner of their living room, and she did it just using her big mouth.

I might add I'd seen her hit him once or twice. She'd belt him right in the face. I mean really clobber him! With her fist! It couldn't have hurt too much though; he always laughed. There was a time though she hauled back and gave him one hell of a roundhouse. Man he grabbed her, threw her over his shoulder, and hauled her upstairs. We all just sat real quiet and still in their living room and listened. I never heard so much thrashing and hollering and rustling about. They came down about an hour later all giggles and hugs. I suppose they'd worked out their differences.

What I'm driving at is we're all who we're raised to be. My mom was raised to be a good, obedient, subservient, Catholic girl, and that kind of translated into everything she did.

Let's go on. Dad's business was growing. He was expanding and making more and more money, but all that took time, and that meant time away from home. Mom wanted and needed attention and dad was just too busy so when mom asked him if she could get a job I guess he just figured it was a way to get her out of his hair.

Don't go ape shit on this, but mom only got her driver's license when I started school. Dad had figured she didn't need one, but when he was always away at work and he figured there might be an emergency. She really was a little mouse. Forget Angela and the car thing. I went to public school. Angela went to a private all girls' Catholic school. Dad dropped her off each morning.

Life went on. Angela and I finished school. Mom got permission to get a job, she took some classes, passed the test, became an agent, and found a job working for a subsidiary of a national operation. The subsidiary was owned and operated by an old black man named Jonathon Freeman. Mr. Freeman had three sons.

Old Mr. Freeman hired my mom, but I was told he'd mostly retired, and left the operations to his sons who by then weren't young themselves. My mom told me all this.

These three brothers kind of took my mom under their wing. They helped her get started. They showed her 'the ropes'. They taught her the verbal tricks and the geographic gimmicks some realtors used to sell the houses they had to offer. My mom ate it up.

For quite a while mom did pretty well. The housing market was good. Financing was easy, and builders couldn't keep up with demand, and then the bottom fell out. The agency had to cut back. They laid people off. They had to cut corners. But mom was pretty, she was happy, easy to please, she was funny, and she was white in a market where latent prejudice sometimes showed up. The brothers kept her on even though there were other people with better reputations and better sales records. However, somewhere along the way the paradigm shifted.

My mom said it started innocently enough. Once they were at an open house and there weren't enough chairs. She ended up on one of the brothers' laps. The brothers always smuggled in a few miniatures when they were out, and a snippet of vodka mixed in with a glass of orange juice always made the day go a little faster.

Being small like she was mom was never much of a drinker. Pretty soon the brothers found it was easy to get my mom just a little tipsy. Mom said the oldest brother, Hiram, was the nicest. He was the most forward too.

She said she remembered the first time she went too far was when Hiram had her on his lap and he started to tickle her. She remembered laughing and giggling and him unbuttoning her blouse and fondling her boobies.

It wasn't long she said before there was always a couch conveniently located at whatever house they were showing. Hiram would get her to lie down so he could give her a massage. He'd massage her back and rub up and down her legs. He'd get her shoes and nylons off and rub her legs all the way up her thighs. He'd get her blouse open and her bra unloosened so he could massage her shoulders or she'd roll over on her back and he'd feel all over her boobs while she dozed off. If they saw someone coming to see the house she'd just go to the bathroom and get fixed.

Then one time; she remembered the house they were showing was in a black neighborhood, one of the other brothers got the idea they'd have some horderves. He said she could dress up like a waitress and hand them out to visitors. That was when one of them bought her a maid's outfit.

Mom said it was a simple black outfit with white cuffs, a white peter-pan collar, and a simple white apron. It wasn't too short or sexy; just a pretty costume, and she said she felt a little silly but a little excited wearing it. She said they praised her to high heaven, she sat on all their laps, and all of them got to touch her boobies and smooth their hands over her thighs. She told me it was kind of fun watching their dark brown hands rub over her white thighs. She also said that was the first time they hadn't had anything to drink. Sometimes she'd kiss them.

My mom told me later they had to have started giving her something; she just didn't know what it was. She said she thought this because she always felt light headed and silly. Plus she said she always felt so emotionally strung out, so 'connected' to the brothers.

After that first time whenever they were showing a house in a black community she wore the maid costume. She said she thought it was a turn on for the brothers and for some of the 'black buyers' to have a white woman wait on them. She said she didn't like that very much; it made her feel self-conscious. She said she still did it anyway; it wasn't fun, but it was strangely erotic.

Then after a while she thought when they were showing they started taking down the 'open house' signs. They were just going to nice houses, often houses that were fully furnished, and they'd just play games. Someone would bring a costume, another would bring something to eat, and a third would bring a couple containers of some kind of juice.

She'd dress up, and prance around while they would clap their hands and encourage her. The youngest brother took videos. He said he took the videos so he could watch her later when he was alone. He was the only brother not married.

My mom explained she didn't know how it happened, it didn't happen real fast, and whether they made a sale or not she always got some kind of residual.

She said it was neat; she got paid whether they sold anything or not. Sure she figured it was a little bit naughty, they touched her boobs and her legs, but nothing really serious ever happened, at least not right away. Then she said one day something did.

There was one time when the oldest brother couldn't be with them. It was a nice house in a newer community, but it was a rainy day. The younger brothers came with an outfit for her and something to drink. She got dressed up and drank some of the punch. After about a half an hour the youngest brother wanted to show a video. Mom said she was embarrassed because it was one of the things he'd taped. He showed some of it, and while he showed it he got her to sit on her rear-end between his legs.

This was something she'd never done before. In no time he had her blouse down off her shoulders and was squeezing her boobs. I remember her telling me she'd been felt up before but the oldest brother had always been there, and she'd always felt safe around him. The two younger brothers were different.

Well the younger brother she said lifted her up on his lap and started to reach under this mini-skirt they'd gotten her. He started to massage over her vagina. She asked him to stop, but he wouldn't. Then she tried to get off his lap, but he told her she had to let him or he'd send the video to her husband.

My mom said she panicked. She squirmed and managed to get off his lap. She said she was really scared. That was when the front door opened and Hiram, the oldest brother was there. She said he saw what was happening and got really angry. She said he was really affronted by what his brothers were doing with her. In fact he lifted her up and carried her into the bedroom. He laid her down on the bed, and started consoling her, telling her how wonderful she was, and how fond of her he was. He said she was nervous and needed a massage. She remembered she felt so lethargic, so relaxed. Before she realized what was happening he had all her clothes off and he was rubbing his penis up against her vagina.

She remembered being kind of scared, but at the same time a little relieved. It was Hiram, and she trusted him. Plus she'd heard where black men had really big penises, and his wasn't big at all. In fact she said it was barely hard. She thinks he tried to get inside her, but it wouldn't get hard enough. He took her hand and asked her to rub him. She did, and after just a few rubs he ejaculated. Then he quickly got up, he apologized, went into the bathroom, cleaned up, helped her get dressed, and walked her out to her car. Before she left he gave her a fat envelope full of money.

She said she didn't realize it then, but that was the beginning of another completely different kind of relationship. The youngest brother stayed away from the office the whole week. Hiram and the middle brother were extra nice to her. Then on the next Sunday Hiram, the middle brother and her showed a house. The youngest brother stayed away. While they were there Hiram explained how sorry they were, but he especially loved the way she made him feel. He asked her if she would do it again. My mom later was sure she was on something because all she could think was how she wanted to make Hiram happy. She even used her hand to get him off that time, he was still kind of limp, and then she agreed to do the middle brother. Afterward they were both so grateful she felt like she'd done something wonderful. They gave her a lot of money that day; they both gave her an envelope.

The next week the youngest brother was back in the office. He secretly gave her three tapes. He said they were all he had, and that he was sorry he said what he did. He said his brothers were terribly angry with him. That Sunday it was just her and the youngest brother. He was so wonderful that she agreed to get in the bed with him. She thought she must have passed out or something because she remembered him sticking his penis in her. Anyway my mom said after that Sunday it was four of them all together almost every week.

They did lots of unusual things on the Sundays that followed. It wasn't always sex. Oh it was but it was quite often odd and unusual. One time the middle brother bought her a harem outfit. They all got to watch her pretend to dance. The he went in the bathroom and came out with nothing on except some white powder in his penis. She said it looked funny; a dark brown man with a snow white penis. She was supposed to crawl over and get on her knees and lick all the powdered sugar off. There were bells on the costume, and she remember how they jingled when she crawled across the carpet. She said she did lick it off; it was powdered sugar.

Most of the time though she said they just liked to rub over her skin with their hands. They kept praising her and telling her how soft and smooth she was. A lot of times Hiram and the middle brother just watched their younger brother wipe and smooth over her flesh. He had large warm hands and it was like being massaged all over. Then the older brothers would go into empty rooms where she thought they masturbated. While they masturbated she would suck off the youngest or let him slide his penis in her. She said he never ejaculated I her; but instead he'd get up, go in another room, and masturbate.

One time the youngest brother brought in some little metal objects. They looked like eggs but weren't. He wanted to put them in her behind, but she'd never done anything there and after a couple of tries they gave up. They still fiddled with her behind with their fingers though. Mom said it was about that time that dad found her stash of costumes. After that her whole life fell apart. She quit her job, and tried to talk to dad but he just wouldn't listen. She told me she understood. She gave up and decided to just try and die.

I guess that's about where we are. Mom's trying to die. Dad's trying to get remarried, and me and Angela are trying to figure a way to get dad to actually listen to someone. I knew there was no way I could give dad any details about what mom did; that would be way too much, and mom won't tell him, she's afraid.

Part Three: Warren again

Two things had been driving me crazy, and neither was resolved until my asshole son came to see me. I learned a lot that day. I learned a lot about myself and my son too. I was closing up one of my portables when my son wrapped on the door window. I let him in.

First I was living in two places, paying for a third, and had a home nowhere. My ex-wife Jeannie was at my original home, and according to my kids she was conscientiously trying to starve herself to death. Meanwhile I lived in a small apartment; I wouldn't call it home, but it was where I kept my computers, my business records, and a few changes of clothes. Then last I was sleeping off and on at Vonja's, but Vonja, though she said she had very strong feelings for me and knew her girls felt the same way absolutely refused to marry me.

I knew none of the things I really valued were within my grasp. Oh I had a good business and was making money, but what did it matter?

That's when, like I said, my asshole son showed up at the door with a bottle of Jim Beam and two glasses. He knocked on my portable door, I opened it, and he insisted on coming in. The first thing he did was tell me what his mother had told him about her three boyfriends and how they'd maneuvered her into being the worthless trash she'd become. I listened to him tell her version of the stupid tale, and I was ready to throw the dumb little son-of-a-bitch out unless he agreed to flesh out what he'd uncovered. To my bitter disappointment that's what he did. I agonized over every word. When he finished her account he gave me his.

"Dad," he said, "Now that I've told you what mom told me. Let me tell you what really happened."

I smirked, "Like you know something." Then he told me, and here's what he said.

He explained, "Dad mom's become like a flightless little bird. She was raised to be an obedient little girl. Her dad, and then you made her that way.

I listened and tried to interrupt but he wouldn't let me.

He went on, "Mom married you and she did all the right things. She fixed your food, cleaned your house, made you two kids, wiped your ass, and cleaned your fucking shit stained toilets for over twenty years and she never once complained. And what did you do? All you did was provide a little money and rationed out maybe a little affection when you thought she might have earned some. And I repeat in all those years she never complained.

I was stunned! This asshole was my son. He was fucking standing up to me! It was aggravating! I should have swatted his ass with my hand when he was younger.

He continued, "Then she got a job. But she only got the job after you gave her permission. Even then she thought she got a job you'd approve of, a job where she could show you she had some business acumen like you did. And what did you do; you ignored her. Well those three men she worked for didn't ignore her; they praised her, they paid her, they rewarded her, they even kept her on when they had to let others go. Too bad though; one of them got other ideas."

I thought, 'Yeah this is when the bullshit starts; the part where he says I've got to forgive, forget, and take back. He never said that though; not exactly anyway.'

But he kept shitting up the water with his fucking college boy logic, "The villain there turned out to be the old guy; he got the idea they could use her to bolster turnover in the black communities by using her like a waitress, a maid, a cute little white slave girl. The banks, some of them, were still issuing sub-prime loans and mom became an unwitting part of their sales pitch. You know what; it worked. In fact it worked so good they got the idea they could fill her too small tank with alcohol."

"Dad," he said, "You know she's small. You always said she could never hold her liquor. It didn't take much and they had her just high enough, just inebriated enough to let loose a little. Then it got easy. Throw in a little food, but soak the food in something that helped their cause."

I'll admit the shit-ass had my attention.

Travis added, "You ever heard of 'roofies' dad? You know what Ecstasy is? You have any idea what something like Molecular could do to her system? Well they did; or one of them did. Man they were good. They had her doing simple things. Little things like sitting on laps and letting them feel a tit, maybe rub a thigh, but she wasn't 'up' for the 'big jump'."

"Dad," he told me, "These drugs, especially the Molecular loosens a person's inhibitions, it confuses their sense, it encourages the user to shift their normal feelings of empathy and compassion from a loved one to the person they're with. Even then mom wouldn't budge from her deeper moral beliefs. The brothers had to come up with something."

I was in disbelief, and I told my asshole son I didn't believe any of his bullshit, but the shit had me listening so what could I do?

Travis drilled it in, "The oldest, that Hiram, wanted it all so he concocted a scheme. He got it so the youngest of the three came off like a borderline rapist, then he, the oldest, could swoop in and save her. They'd flooded her with so much shit she rolled over. Once he got in her panties that first time they had her; she was their toy, their little piece of fluff. Sure it had something to do with her being white, but it was the thrill of control, they had her under their thumbs ."

I was just amazed. All these years my son had a fucking brain and never let on.

Travis nailed it down, "They drugged her dad. They drugged her and used her."

He sighed, "Now all my life you've called me an asshole, but you know what dad; you're the asshole. You had a benumbed worshipping obedient little woman who would have done anything for you and you ignored her, told her she could get a job, and go it alone. Dad it was almost lie you put her out on the street. You know what we're lucky in a way. She could have ended up in the clutches of some biker, some real conman, or worse!"

~~v~~

Well that's the short version of what my son Travis told me. I never thought he had it in him. When he was finished I asked, no I told him, "And now I guess I'm supposed to forgive the lying cheating whore, take her back, remarry her, and live happily ever fucking after."