Low-Class Clown

"For every minute you remain angry, you give up sixty seconds of peace of mind." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Among my earliest memories in life, my mother gives my brother and me a bath and puts us to bed for the night in the room and bed that we share in order to make things easier for her even though there is another bedroom.  That room is filled with senseless clutter.  When we're older and become teenagers, we will bathe outside with a garden hose because we're not allowed to shower in the house.  It's not long before she comes charging into our room with "the belt".  "The belt" is kept hanging on a nail in the kitchen.  My brother and I start screaming because we know what's about to happen.  My brother is older by just under three years and tries to tell me what to do to lessen the impact or get away.  We pull the covers up tightly over our heads to protect ourselves but we're not strong enough.  She pulls them down and starts lashing at us.  She's gritting her teeth at what life has done to her but taking it out on us.  We're her whipping boys.

We scream in terror as the whipping goes on and on and gets more intense.  It seems to last for an eternity.  While she lashes at one of us, the other gets up out of bed and tries to run away down the hallway.  It's not easy to escape because she's a hoarder and there's stuff everywhere.  When she realizes that one of us is getting away, she stops, turns and commences chasing.  Its a small house, so in a matter of seconds she has cornered the other and begins beating again.  My father yells from his living room chair in front of the T.V., "Stop.  Don't you think it's enough?"  But he does nothing to stop it.  He's too tired from working all day at a job he dislikes that pays little.

The next day, I go to school wearing out-of-date clothes that don't fit me and were given to my mother by a neighbor who feels sorry for us.  I try to hide the red marks from last night's beating under the clothes.  In class, I hurry to finish  my work to show that I'm first and capable.  It's hard to love yourself when you're routinely being beaten.  I have no self-esteem.  I try to be a jokester and make the other kids laugh in a futile attempt to garner their friendship, love and respect.  I'm the class clown.  My brother is angry and aggressive and is one of the school "toughs".

When I get home from school, I walk about a mile up a big hill to a different neighborhood to deliver about fifty daily newspapers.  I've developed a great love for music and God to help me cope.  While I make the daily trek, I sing songs and talk to God.  I even play a little air guitar along the way as I perform my favorites.  Music and the almighty are my faithful, loving  companions.  When I return home, I go into the bedroom and close the door.  I turn on the stereo that I bought with my paper route money and don a pair of headphones and listen to music on FM radio, cassette tapes and vinyl record albums.  My father will be coming home from work soon and it will be time for dinner.  That's when my parents will be arguing angrily.  My music and headphones spare me from it and provide an escape for a short time.

After dinner, I go outside in the yard with my ball. I'm wanting my father to play catch with me but he's busy tending to his garden.  I tell him that I don't care about his tomato plants.  He gets mad, chases me and hits me on the back of the leg with a tomato plant stake causing my leg to bleed.  There is constant tension in the house and everyone walks around on eggshells.  Our home is an active volcano and we wait for the next eruption.  My brother and I are merely casualties of their war with life and are caught in a flow of hot, molten lava ...

Author's Note

"A good indignation brings out all one's powers." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Reviews

[Onlyme]

Wow. Pete, that Clown pic sure does scare the pooh out me. On first look. And after reading your graphic, heartbreaking story. I can sure understand why you choose the clown. As most people find them funny, nice and go out their way to be nice and make people love and feel wanted. In your case and your brothers. Your mother started off nice. And then when life got the better of her. She took it out on you both with belts and beatings. And how you found the love of God and music. That made me feel your heart fill with joy and happiness for ones. And that truly was beautiful to hear. And your dad, was like blinded for love for your mother. And never realized what was going on fully in the house. I can really understand and relate to this powerful cathartic healing story from you Pete. Well done for speaking out and for healing your heart, mind and soul. And finding inner peace. Even thou at times. You must have truly found it unbearable and emotional soul breaking too. Living like that as a child with your brother.

[Pete]

great thoughts Dawn. we probably all have things like this in our pasts (though not to this extreme perhaps). i love how you focused on the positives that came from the experience and how it shaped who i am - that is the most important takeaway. thank you for sharing your excellent thoughts ... :)

[Onlyme]

Pete anytime, you ever need a chat or a mate. I am here. Dawn. And your most welcome.

[andrew mitchell]

In the real world, only dreams, and imaginary friends are the escapisms. Good writing Pete, the clown is creepy reminding me of it.

[Pete]

you made me smile andrew. thanks for stopping in creepy clown notwithstanding ... :)

[emmajoy]

Can't guess whether this is fact or fiction, thi-i-ink it could be fact. Pretty sure it is but..

As i arrived here assuming i'd immediately see words - instead.. hell! was met by that clown - a face much hated by so many. I knew then, there'd be terror and horror ahead. And so there was, graphically yet calmly written, then presented to readers as precariious stepping stones to disaster. How any child can cope with all that, can end up seeing the beautiful twists and turns of life and that of our Lord is.. nothing less than a miracle or a lesson of how to survive by escaping into a world of dreams, brother aside music within, and that special Love holding you. Such incredible writing, Pete. Memorable.

[Pete]

i can only believe that everything under the sun has a higher purpose. the depth and beauty of your heart revealed through your writing transcends much. forgiveness is greater than vengeance, compassion more powerful than anger. as my muse Thoreau wrote, "It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see." and "It's only by forgetting yourself that you draw near to God." thank you em. may the good Lord watch and keep you in this new year with many blessing my dear friend ... :)

[emmajoy]

Many thank yous for continuing to share such gentle and kind thoughts, Pete. Wishing you everything you wish fot yourself and the ones you love in 2019.

[Wesley Dingler]

p.s.
Van Halen rules! My favorite album is Balance.

[Pete]

yes indeed, great band. thank you Wesley ... :)

[Wesley Dingler]

very good writing. I love how your thoughts just seemed to spill out here. It was also wonderfully nostalgic to me.
The "My music and headphones spare me from it and provide an escape for a short time" is certainly something I can relate too.
I still do that some as an adult.

[Pete]

we all need our escape. couldn't live without my music and headphones. thank you for sharing your thoughts Wesley. It is much appreciated ... :)

[Mrudula Rani]

It is a heart wrenching story. Children are a mother's treasure... your mother failed to see what wonderful and intelligent boys she had. She lost an opportunity to create a beautiful memories and happy, healthy life for her children. It is fascinating to read how you carved a personal and private life in that toxic environment and developed taste for the best in literature and philosophy.

[Pete]

thank you Mrudula. i like what you got out of it and appreciate you sharing your thoughts ... :)

[Mrudula Rani]

You are most welcome, Pete. Have a beautiful Christmas and a very happy New Year. Wishing you all the best .