Sunday, February 01, 2004
 

Warning: abnormally long post ahead.

Journeys end in lovers meeting?

Here's the deal. Two nursing students lived next to me (well, two nursing students still do live on one side of me; this is the other side) until this summer, when they moved out. The unit remained empty awhile, and then a stream of people seemed to come and go for a week or so, so I had no idea who lived there. The first person I talked to was a man with a heavy accent, and I was never positive what he said except that he was the father of someone who lived in that unit. And that he was babysitting the cat (the Fenster I've mentioned before).

Finally, what I assume to be a single dude settles in. He comes and goes a lot, all the same. Then, say a month later (timeline here could be way off), a woman moves in with him. She's very friendly, very chatty. However, she tells stories so quickly that I can never follow what she's saying. I gather that she and the dude (names omitted here, of course) are living together. There's a complicated story about him getting transferred (I think?) and her having to get a new job (I don't know if she's employed or not), because he was her former supervisor. I gather that he has to travel; she doesn't.

Nowhere, during what was, in fact, a long conversation, did she mention a kid.

So when one showed up, completely out of the blue, I was quite surprised. He's a sweet kid, looks to be about 7. I've seen his mom (I'm 99.9% sure she's his mom; at least, he addresses her as such) take him to school in the mornings, when I've been working in my office. I was a bit miffed on his behalf, because they seemed to have changed his school system in the middle of the semester.

In the meantime, it's always been her that I've seen with the child, never the dude. So, because I worry about everything, I worried about that. But really: they seem to do a lot of stuff together, and the dude is never involved. I come back in the evenings fairly often, and it was common for me to see the woman and the child leaving for the Y together or going for a walk; I would speak to them on my way in.

I'd heard some minor yelling from over there before, but, this morning featured an hour-plus screaming match, which seemed to diminish ONLY when their voices started to give out. I wasn't spying (shaddup, peanut gallery): I had been sitting in my kitchen, doing reading, when the fight broke out in their kitchen. I didn't bother moving, because the fights are usually brief, and at first the heat was on, which drowns out sound. But then it kept going, and, from my seat across the kitchen (where I was doggedly trying to read-- and, by this point, eavesdropping), I heard the basic facts of the argument.

And a note: You'll recall from the flooding incident here that the walls in this building are extremely well-insulated. It is HARD to hear anything that happens next door. You've got to be LOUD for your neighbor to make out words.

The facts: She had apparently picked up his cell phone, or perhaps seen a cell phone bill; one way or the other, she'd figured out that he was placing an excessive number of calls to some woman (who I think was already known to neighbor-woman). She first demanded his phone (I think) to see if he'd called her recently. He refused. She then demanded to be told what was going on. He refused. Cabinet doors were slammed, repeatedly. Things were banged. She repeated all her demands, he repeated his refusals. For a very long time. The dude never offered any excuses, and he never made any accusations about neighbor-woman, so, from everything I heard, the dude is indeed cheating (keep in mind, too, that he travels for business-- to the same place).

As the fight worsened, I began to hope devoutly that the child was not there. Okay, so I'm not the most maternal person in the world, but he in no way needed to be present for any of that. I was picturing him in his room, hiding under the bed. If there had been some way for me to reach through the wall and get him without the adults knowing, I would, but I knew quite well that me contacting them would make things far worse. And I didn't know if the boy was there, since he and his mom, I think, go to church.

I missed a lot at the outset, between the heat and the refrigerator going on and off. After about the first 45 minutes, I began to pay closer attention, mainly because I was afraid of physical violence. No, I have no reason to expect that domestic violence would occur, but things had gotten seriously, nastily, downright ugly.

Finally, things died down. I went upstairs to get a shirt out of my bedroom (layering is key), and I heard someone taking things out of the bedroom next door and a slam of something heavy, very much like that of a suitcase. I left my room and, I guess a few hours later, returned (chapstick, this time) and heard more yelling, more subdued this time. The adults were fighting again, and it was pretty clear that she was leaving. I heard her child ask questions, I heard her yell at him to shut the hell up. I have NEVER heard her speak like that to him before. NEVER. I have NEVER heard anything like that come from next door. By all appearances, he's a happy, well-adjusted kid who loves his mom and clearly likes to spend time with her.

Shortly thereafter, they left. I heard car doors open and removed myself to a position where I could see out of a cracked window-blind. At this point, I figured I had an investment in the situation. The dude was driving his car; the woman was in the front, ignoring him; the boy was in the back. Shirts were hanging on the other side of the back, and there was probably stuff in the trunk. Given that he drives the same type of car as me, though, it wasn't all her and her son's earthly possessions, unless those are quite few. We're not talking monster SUV here.

So, they left, I presume the woman and the child, with him to return. Her truck is still in the lot, though.

I was disturbed by this, to be honest. It was ugly. I kept identifying myself with the child and worrying about him. Furthermore, there is no way I could not have overheard this, short of leaving the apartment (I haven't showered since Friday, and I'm still wearing the same clothes, which I've been sleeping in as well. Yes, I know you wanted to know that).

So that's today's saga. Could have done without that. Interpersonal conflict upsets me a great deal, hence the purge onto this blog.

Elvisette philosophized at 2:29 PM