A Man Named Dave

eyes begin to water. The last time Mother had lowered her guard like this was the day before I was rescued in March 1973, when we had both stood in the same room, while she broke down and began talking about her past. Standing in front of her now, I prayed I didn’t lose her … again. My sole objective was for Mother to be with Father. Maybe, somehow, I thought, a few minutes alone might wash away the years of animosity. “Come on,” I softly pleaded, “let’s all go see Dad. Come on.” I smiled as I extended my hand to hers.
    “Oh, David,” Mother cried as she stretched out her trembling arm. Without hesitation I took her hand. Mother let out a sigh as I cupped the palm of her hand. “It’s going to be fine. It’s going to be okay,” I told her. Her body began to weave. Mother closed her eyes tightly, as if washing away all the pain she had kept locked in her heart. She let out another, deeper sigh, as if cleansing herself. As I looked at Mother’s face, her color seemed to change. A reddened look began to take over. Before she opened her eyes, I knew what was coming. Suddenly her hand felt ice cold. “Don’t go,” I softly pleaded. “Please, don’t go.”
    The same moment I released her hand, Mother jerked it away. Just as years before, I had enough sense to back away from her. By the evil smile I knew The Mother had returned with a vengeance. “Oh, what a manipulating little shit you are! How I bet those foster people of yours are ever so proud! And here you come traipsing into my house, telling me what to do. Who made you the Messiah?” Mother paused to reload, while she struggled to light a cigarette. It took several attempts for her – not only to light it but to take a drag – due to her violent shakes. “You” – she thrust a finger at my face while smoke poured from her mouth – “of all people, have no right. You might be something to the United States Air Force, but you know …” Mother hesitated, as if to have me feel the full meaning of her words, “… you know what you are. Deep down, you’re nothing. You don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as me or my children. How could you march into my house, as if you owned the place, and tell me what I should or shouldn’t do? How could you, after all I’ve done for you? What gives you the right to come back?”
    I tried to maintain an unthreatening stance. As I had years before, I simply shut down and became a cyborg: part man, part machine. Yet her words “after all I’ve done for you” caught me by total surprise.
    “Done for me?” I muttered.
    “You still don’t get it, do you?” she sneered after taking a long drag. “I didn’t have to release you. No! I let you go. I was done with you. You gave me no pleasure, so you were disposed of.” It took me a few seconds to comprehend what Mother was saying. “You were trash, and like trash I simply tossed you away.” Mother struck the pose of a refined aristocrat and said in a sarcastic voice, “Oh, dear me, how rude. Am I bursting your bubble? And all this time I bet you thought your blessed little saviors at your school were the ones responsible for your dramatic deliverance.” Then in a tone barely audible, Mother whispered, “You don’t know how fortunate you were. I could have ended it all. Just … like … that,” Mother emphasized with the snap of her fingers. “You know what you are, so if I were you, I’d keep that little trap of yours shut. Don’t push it. You were lucky once, so don’t think I haven’t done anything for you.”
    Behind her, Kevin popped his head in from the dining room. Seeing him, Mother assumed the role of the grieving wife. With a fresh stream of tears rolling down her face, Mother tilted her head back as if to ease the intensity of her pain. As if the effort of standing was too much for her, Mother struggled to sit down. In all, I thought it was a fair performance. I also was certain that Ron, Stan, Russell, and Kevin had seen her charades many times before.
    “Care?” Mother reached out to Kevin with an exaggerated trembling hand. “Oh, I care about your fath – about him,” Mother corrected herself. “I care. That’s the problem, I care too much.” Mother finished by wiping away her tears.
    I deliberately remained stoic. I had already pushed her too far, so I did not want to say anything that might reignite the situation. Still, I had surprised myself by not caving in. I couldn’t believe I had actually penetrated her defenses, let alone stood up and questioned her status as a