Gloria pleaded with me to get my father to stop waking her so late. Disconnecting our phone did not work – like it did not work for anyone who got close to The Monster’. He made you pay. He mentally tortured you, made you feel like a uncaring Nazi Bastard who loves to throw old Jews into ovens – like cord wood!
One night Vic called when I had been up late drinking at the bar. I told him to never call Gloria again, because, that’s who he wanted to talk to.
“What are you going to do if I don’t stop? Are you going to come over here and punch your old man on the Jaw? You aren’t man enough!”
“I’ll be right over!”
Twenty minutes later I am pounding on Vic’s door, that he will not open. I go to the window and behold him standing in the middle of his living room with his bathrobe on. You can’t be serious! Pop’s look scared – and disturbed from his sleep.
“C’mon out, and take you ass woopen like a man! Cause – Heeeeere’s Johnny!”
This is 1976, before The Shining’. I am smiling, enjoying this sporting event.
I go to the sliding window, and pull on it.
“I’m coming in to get you – old man!”
All of a sudden the window flies open and shatters all around me! I see Vic’s wife Dee-Dee on the phone. She is shouting at me. Then I hear my angel calmly tell me to put my hands up and say “Don’t shoot!” I obey my angel.
Dee-Dee told me a few days later, after I got out of jail, that the Deputy Sheriff that lives across the way had his scoped rifle on me and was about to shoot. That’s when he called Victim Headquaters to get orders to kill the evil Manson-like intruder. He also thought about releasing his German shepherd, but, I might be armed. Why spare a bullet and waste a good dog?
When I got out of jail, Gloria told me the truth, that for over a month my father was making obscene phone calls, coming on to my lover, making lude suggestions, saying he could please her more then his son could – the hippie!
Vic also suffers from Narcissus Personality Disorder, and could not stand it, that I ended up with the German Fräulein of his dreams. I had stolen his Supre Race limelight.Gloria was from Wisconsin where many Germans settled. She went to the University of Wisconsin, and majored in Art. She was not a good artist. She did paintings of great elks by a waterfall in the virgin forest. German’s love this scene – to death! They murdered millions in order to get back to Black Forest – and the elk!
When I heard Captain Victin raped his grandfather, Shannon, at his home when they drank together (she’s the one who came on to me) I called the police, who told me they could do nothing until the REAL VICTIM gave them a jingle. I was the only one who called. Christine did not call. However, she did do a painting titled ‘The Crossing’ and told me on the phone;
“This is how I dealt with Bill’s death.”
No one ever called the police on Mr. Arnold, who told me this as he drove me home across the San Mateo bridge in a storm – two hours after we put his son in the ground!
“My son was no good. I am ashamed he came from my seed. You are good, Greg. Will you be my son now?”
Gloria left me shortly after my arrest, because she felt defiled, our realtionship, dirtied. She saw that I was powerless over my father, his abuse, and my drinking. She saw that I could not protect her.
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