After hanging out on the streets for almost 2 years, getting in lots of trouble, I found The crazy lady who used to live next door on Campbell Avenue. Remember, we sort of had our first date when I was 13 and she was married (Husband split when he realized how nuts she was) and just had a child. I was driving down Duckworth Street with my mom when I saw the crazy one, drunker than a skunk, in a doorway, trying to push away 2 guys trying to get in, my guess would be they did eventually get in, she loved attention, and If I were a betting man (and I am), she has seen more dick ends, than weekends.
I made contact with her shortly thereafter, we hung out, nothing sexual at that point, just me getting off the streets mostly. She moved to Alexander Street after a while, and I went with her, hanging out again. It was a strange relationship at first, and I do recall the first time I touched her, I was actually on my way out, and she dragged me into the bedroom and she lid down. I started to touch her, and actually lid down with her, except, I had fallen asleep! Guess I was tired? Well, she promptly woke me up with a punch to the face. This was the beginning of a very volatile relationship, to say the least. I never hit her back, that time, but there was many a time we both were swinging.
Hanging out here was like walking on eggshells, on the best of days. She would do crazy things every now and then, like sitting down and eating supper, halfway through, she would throw her plate across the room, smashing it against the wall. Her best friend, who had the same first name was a whore, she’d work the boats? (back then, there’d be a full harbor of Portuguese ships everywhere). So, every once in a while (usually after she got her welfare cheque), she’d head to The Belmont with her friend. I was told by a few people that both of them would give head, or have sex with just about anyone there, they were known as “The Belmont Beauties”. I only found out about this promiscuity after I had left her. This news did not surprise me in the least.
So, we started to have sex regularly, unfortunately, we’d fight just as much. With her condition, she would instigate 99% of all arguments, and being from my background, I only knew to lash out and hit her or break stuff, like ripping the phone off the wall, or punching a hole in it. Not always, but quite often. I am trying to not make excuses for my behavior, but this was all I knew, as far as I was concerned, it as normal to hit her, and in her condition, I would almost say she thrived on it, she would push and push and push and push until I responded with a smack. I’ll chalk that up to her yet to be diagnosed schizophrenia!
Finally, after I went out with my sister’s boyfriend to play darts (early 1984), and his brother, who had lived below her on Alexander Street, wouldn’t let me go back to his place, because he had heard all the fighting that we did and figured, that was the norm, but it wasn’t. After that night, I evaluated our relationship (remember, I was still only 16 and she was 23). I thought that if I didn’t leave, one or both of us would end up in a body bag, yes, it was that bad. I will take most of the blame, but not all.
I broke up with her and went to work on the log house on Freshwater Road, then one day, about 6 months later, her sister came to see me and told me she was pregnant and that the kid was mine. I went to see her, but the timeline didn’t add up, and my first (and last) thought was that it wasn’t mine. I tried to get back with her, until one day she told me that the whole time we were together, she was having unprotected sex for money with a couple of her buddies (that used to hang out at her place). This came up in a casual conversation, not a fight, so I took it as truth, why would anyone admit to doing something like that, if it were not true. Well, between her volatility, her having unprotected sex, the Belmont stories, the timeline, I Left again. Until the night she went into labor, her sister calls again and guilted me into showing up, which I did, she wanted me in the delivery room, but the nurse saw how young I was and said, no way.
I tried to stick around, but the madness continued, and the fighting never stopped, so after another year or so of living on eggshells, we broke up again. It wasn’t that long after I started dating Rita, which lasted almost 10 years, unfortunately, my actions and reactions to strike out didn’t end until after we had broken up in Edmonton. The relationship was nowhere near as volatile as the previous one, and at most, there were less than 10 incidents over 10 years, with about 30% happening on my birthday/s.
Luckily, the cycle ended with the last incident which may have been New Year’s Eve, 1996. It wasn’t a very violent incident (I had pinched her nose), but it was the last. I never raised my hand again, to anyone, except a drunk or 2, or someone hopped up on drugs while I was working the door at Dooly’s in St. John’s.
After I moved to Edmonton, I heard from the crazy one every couple of years, usually a letter or something. I recognized the writing and just tossed anything sent to me right in the garbage. After 10 years, I returned to St. John’s, while living in Mt. Pearl, one day, someone knocked on the door, it was a young guy, he handed me a letter and said I have been served, I thanked him and closed the door. Figured I knew what it was as my mom had told me that Welfare threatened to cut off her benefits if she didn’t go after child support. So, I got a lawyer and put her on retainer, and she came with me to family court. The crazy one showed up, and she tried talking to me, but I just ignored her. When they called our names, she walked up to me and says, can you at least tell me where I am supposed to go, no response from me, she was absolutely fuming. In court, the judge ordered her and I to get DNA tested and after the proceedings, as I walked down the stairs, she went to grab me by the hair, so I told her, if she touched me, she would be arrested for assault. She says, “I only wanted to touch your hair”, The crazy one, remember.
So, after about 8 or 9 months, my lawyer called me to ask if I had heard anything from the crazy one about testing, and of course, never hear a word, because she had done what welfare asked and kept her benefits coming. The lawyer returned my retainer and I never heard anything from the crazy one for a few more years.
I get a letter or a crazy phone call from both the crazy one and the offspring every now and again, here’s one on my 49th Birthday, click the phone below. Not sure why they haven’t figured out after all these years that I want absolutely nothing to do with either of them. If I thought there was any chance the child was mine, I would have had the DNA test done, but after everything I found out, there isn’t a bone in my body that makes me think she is mine. The crazy one keeps saying I ran away to Edmonton to get away from her, but in actual fact, I left after spending 16 months looking for work and not finding a thing, it was just convenient that I was in another province, away from the madness.
I don’t remember how I got in touch with the offspring, but I did at one point respond to one of the many messages, was probably through Facebook, anyways, I responded with what I said above, about her promiscuity, timing, unprotected sex with her buddies, etc. Of course, I believe the response was she didn’t believe me, so, I left it at that, if you don’t want to hear the truth, stop asking for it.
I guess I could always pursue charges against the crazy one, if I am not mistaken, there are no time restraints for Statutory rape in the statute of limitations. Something I probably should have done many years ago, again, just wanted to be as far away from the madness as possible.
