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Friday, July 29, 2011

Chapter 4

The next few months were a whirl of activity for me. I had to let all my friends and family know about my big move. I did a lot of research on tax laws. I had to learn a new monetary system and try to be conversant with both the USA and metric systems. I got a thorough check up and a tetanus shot. Busy, busy.

I called and spoke to an immigration lawyer who told me my chances for citizenship were slim due to my rather advanced age, unless I got married or found a high-level job. Not many jobs in Whispering Springs but I still had a powerful feeling that this was what I was supposed to be doing. I had made a major investment and I would just have to wait and see how it worked out. All I wanted was to live surrounded by the glory of nature, with good friends close by, and have my ecological footprint be as small as possible to make up for all the resources I had used up in my life.

Meanwhile, another dire e-mail came from Chuck. He said he feared for his life. Bill had returned and was throwing him off the property. Bill was a cocaine dealer and evil. He and his ex-wife had tried to kill Chuck a few times. I should never, ever have anything to do with these people, in spite of the fact they were now my neighbors. I took that warning to heart.
  
Happily, Chuck soon found a new place to live, a tiny shack behind another house in town. He was making it work for himself. He was on welfare now so he had to live very frugally, but he was doing it. Our emails started ending with hearts or flowers. Now it was coming on Christmas.

I was ready to make my first road trip up with some belongings in my van. It was an 18-hour drive and thanks to friends and family I knew which side roads to take and which highways were the quickest. So it was a pleasant drive, lots of scenery and not much traffic for most of the time. I spent a night in a lovely resort hotel. I did lose a few hours at the border while my van was searched. But all my papers were in order, so no problemo.

Once, when we were chatting, Chuck had mentioned that his feet were so cold in his new place. So for Christmas I bought him a pair of handmade, sheepskin, wool-lined slippers. They weren't cheap. I also bought him a large, beautifully illustrated book about a homesteader who built a house all by himself and lived in the wilderness, A Sand County Almanac.

I arrived at my house when I told him I would, Christmas Eve around noon, but he wasn't there. So I unloaded everything all by myself. I discovered he had set up a bedroom for himself in the house. Well, that's okay. He was doing stuff around the place. The driveway was all shoveled out of some recent snow. He had added new counter space. He put in baseboard heaters which I like. The house had previously been heated by propane and I didn't want to stay with that. They have natural gas in town but it's not available out in the woods, so I had to settle for electric heat until I could get a wood stove.

I was, of course, billed by and had paid Chuck for all his work, twenty dollars an hour. I paid him with wire transfers instead of checks. He didn't want the welfare office to find out he was making any money. Not wanting to stir up trouble for myself, I had agreed to his wishes.

Finally I was finished unloading the van and I found my way over to his new place. He was delighted to see me and had a fridge full of beer. So we had a few and talked about this and that. I asked why he hadn't been there to help me unload. He explained that he wanted me to have some alone time with my new house, to really appreciate it. Well, okay, I could see that.

Then he told me he had a big surprise. We were going to a party. It was just across the street at a friend's whom he had known for some twenty years. I was quite pleased at the idea of meeting some new people.

We went over and I was delighted to meet such fine folks. Phil and his sister, Lizzy, had 10 other brothers and sisters and the night was a constant influx of people, all wonderfully nice. No one questioned where I had come from, they were just all happy to have me here. Friends and family kept walking in the door, without knocking, shouting “Merry Christmas!” It was one of the best times I ever had.

Around midnight all the guests had departed and it was just the four of us. There was no more beer. We all agreed one more would be nice and I said that there was some across the street. I asked Chuck if it would be alright if I went and got one more for each of us. He agreed it was a good idea.

So I went and was probably gone 2 minutes at the most. I walked back into Phil's and handed out the beers. Chuck looked at me for a minute, then screamed, yes screamed, “What the hell do you think you're doing, just walking in without knocking!!?”

I was stunned. I said, “I was only gone for a minute. You knew I was coming right back. Besides, people have been walking in all night without knocking. Phil, is it okay with you that I did that?”

Phil assured me that it was, but Chuck kept on raving. He said I had no manners, that since I was from another country I obviously didn't understand proper behavior. He told me I would never survive here with that sort of attitude. Then he said he was going home and I could do whatever I wanted.

I asked Phil if it would be okay if I slept on his couch. He said, “Sure. Stay as long as you want. You're family now.”

Chuck then stormed out and I stayed to finish my beer. We talked about it a little bit and Phil said Chuck was just drunk and most likely wouldn't even remember any of it in the morning. But I could sleep there if I wanted. Heck, I could even share his bed.

I thanked him profusely but said I really needed to get back over to Chuck's, if I could get in. Phil said he would leave the door unlocked for me, but to be sure to knock first. We had a good laugh.

So I went back over and Chuck's door was unlocked; he was snoring loudly in his bed. I undressed and crawled in next to him, and we slept the night away.
We awoke Christmas morning around 8. I headed to the bathroom and Chuck headed to the fridge, to get a beer. He asked if I wanted one but I declined, saying I'd prefer coffee. He put some on and he was quite cheerful. No mention of the night before. He then made us some eggs and toast and it was all very nice.

Christmas is such an odd holiday. What other time of the year would we put a dead tree in our living room and then sit in front of it, eating candy out of our socks? Well, we actually had neither tree nor socks, but I told him I had a gift for him and he said he had one for me, too.

I was so delighted. I certainly wasn't expecting anything, what with him being on welfare and all. He insisted I open mine first. It was a set of 2 picture frames to hang on the wall. Each would hold 4 small pictures. Something for my new house. That was just so sweet of him.

Then he opened his. He looked at the house shoes and put them on. Then he stood up and looked down at them. “I wouldn't wear these. They're ugly!”

I said, “Excuse me? Those are exquisitely hand-made sheepskin. No additives, no preservatives. They are extremely warm and I thought you needed them.” He just huffed, tossed them aside, and opened the other present.

I can't keep this. Look around, I have no room in here for books. Think about it, I'm always having to move in a hurry. This would just be one more thing I'd have to worry about.” Then he chugged another beer and said he was going back to bed.

I decided I might as well drive back to my house and put some things away, so I took the book and left. I hung some pictures and emptied a few boxes, meanwhile contemplating all the events of the past 24 hours. Had it just been 24 hours? It felt like a week. Being with Chuck was obviously going to require some adjustments on my part. But I reminded myself of all the good things about him; they far outweighed the bad. In for a penny, in for a pound, I've heard said.

A couple of hours later he called and asked what I was doing. I told him and he said I should come back to his place. It was Christmas, after all, and I shouldn't be working. Besides, I was only here for two more days. So I went and he was all happy again. He was making a big pot of homemade soup.

He put some music on; he wanted me to hear his special CD of his favorite songs that he had made off the internet. The first tune was Cyndi Lauper's “Time After Time.” I had always loved that and in time it became our song. Next was Jackson's “Man In the Mirror,” another favorite of mine. Then there was a 911 recording of a woman at McDonald's who was served the wrong burger. So she called the cops. It was very funny. Next was “All Out of Love” and “Thriller,” and then a George Carlin routine. That was it.

He told me he had so many albums years ago that had all been lost. First the ones he lost to his wife, then another bunch he had in a house he was renting with some other people. One day he had come home from a camping trip and the house was empty. The roommates had all vanished along with all his stuff. Wow, this guy has had some rough experiences. I told him I had hundreds of tapes and CDs and would be more than happy to share them with him once I got all moved in.

It was pretty chilly in his place at this point and he said we needed to get naked and get in bed, where it was warm. So we spent the next 18 hours playing, laughing, touching and learning all about each others' most intimate desires. When I drove back to my country the next day, I had an ear-to-ear grin on my face that wouldn't go away. 

Friday, July 22, 2011

Chapter 5

I returned in May with a plan to stay for three months, and this time Chuck was there to meet me. There was someone else there, too. He introduced me to his life-long friend, Bernie, who lived in Northview and spent the summers hanging out in the woods in his camper, fishing, drinking, and enjoying nature. Bernie had been around for a few days, staying on the property and helping out. I was a bit stunned, to say the least, since Chuck never bothered to mention this to me, but Bernie seemed to be a genuinely nice guy. He helped me carry everything in while Chuck went off to take care of something in town. I was delighted to find that Chuck had put a small bunch of wild flowers in a vase on my table.

Then I became very enamored of Bernie when he showed me the cutting board he had installed for me under the counter. He later showed me a photo album he always had with him that had pictures of a house he had built himself some years prior, with Chuck's help. It was quite spectacular.

Chuck came back with some beer and we fired up the barbecue to make burgers. Then we were all pretty tired so we turned in early. Bernie went to his camper and Chuck and I upstairs to his room where we shared the double bed he had set up. There was no bed in my room yet, just a feather mattress and sleeping bag on the floor. 

The next morning Bernie insisted on leaving. He didn't want to be in the way and there was a lot of business that needed taking care of right away. He was off to a lake to go fishing.

The morning went well. Chuck was helpful and full of ideas about what I needed to do now. There were no appliances in the house so right away we had to drive to Northview. I bought a mini fridge, a microwave and a small freezer. He convinced me I should buy a chain saw, too, because I needed to put in a wood stove later and use the acres of wood that I own, with which I could heat my house forever.

While we were shopping we passed the restaurant where we had shared our first breakfast. It was closed down. I was surprised as the food had been good, and cheap. Another sign of the times, I guess. I said, “Oh, look. That first restaurant we had breakfast in together has closed. That was so good that morning.”

I don't remember ever eating there.”

You don't remember us eating there?”

Nope.”

I thought, “That's odd, I am able to remember many of the good restaurants I've eaten in over the years, probably because it's such a rare occurrence. But I am able to remember if the food was good, and I do recall the breakfast we had there. Nice memories, I keep them.” I wondered why he didn't. The whole Man/Mars Woman/Venus thing? We are different, after all. I decided that must be the answer. We remember different things. No big deal.

After we returned to Whispering Springs and put everything away, Chuck wanted us to go up the road to meet some of my neighbors. The Clines, Dan and Marie, were retired school teachers who had built this gorgeous wood home on their 100 acres and were living totally off-grid. What a fantastic place! I knew this was exactly what I wanted to do, and with the right partner, it seemed completely doable.

So we were sitting there, talking with the Clines, and I just mentioned that I had been sleeping in a sleeping bag on the floor because I didn't have a real bed. A couple of days later they came to my house with small box spring on legs, saying they hoped this would be helpful to me. My eyes teared up as I realized how wonderful this place was with such generous people around. They told me to call if I ever needed help with anything.

I spent those three months in a veritable state of bliss. I could not believe how well everything was going for me. My life had been filled with letdowns and heartbreaks, and now it appeared that everything was finally going my way. The people I had met were all so incredibly nice, and life here was so peaceful. I totally loved hiking around my property and exploring. 
  
Plus, Chuck set up a solar heated water system for me so I could have hot water again. He and Bernie had pulled an old 40 gallon electric water heater out of the basement, as I had no plans to use such an expensive appliance. I planned buy a smaller model sometime later. Chuck painted it black and I helped set it up on a tower he built at the back corner of the house. There is a hose going into it from the outside tap that fills it. Then a hundred feet of black hose come out which the sun heats up quite nicely. Since no one can see me there, taking a hot shower outside quickly became one of my most favorite things to do.

During this time Chuck finally found work at one of the local mills. That meant he now didn't have much time to spend with me or to help out. Faced with having several acres of yard to mow, I bought a used John Deere yard tractor. Yee haw! Do I ever love driving that around.

Chuck also convinced me to buy a farm truck he had found for sale. It was a 30-year-old Ford with 4-wheel drive and it still ran, sort of. Since Chuck had had the same kind of truck for 25 years, he assured me he would be able to keep it running forever. This was something I was definitely going to need when he started cutting wood for me. He would cut the wood up on the hill, then I could drive around and load it up to move it to the yard.

I spent a whole lot of time then tearing all the ratty carpeting out of the house. Underneath that was old, stained linoleum, which I also removed. Under that I found layers of newspaper from the '50s. I sometimes lost hours reading through them. They were in pretty good shape and Chuck told me I should save them. Later I could go through them and cut out pictures and ads while he made frames for them. Then we could sell them.

Finally I was at the original wood floor. This was a series of what looked to be hand-cut boards, 10 inches wide and in various lengths. They didn't always fit snugly together so some cool air could be felt coming from the basement. I was definitely going to have to buy more rugs. I didn't want carpeting because I don't have a vacuum cleaner. I just use a broom.

All too soon it was time for me to leave again. Back at my cousin's I was so miserable. I missed my birds and the quiet. I missed the star-filled night skies. I missed my funny little house. But most of all, I missed my friend.

Friday, July 15, 2011

Chapter 6


I got to thinking about how I was going to cook with just a microwave, barbecue, toaster and crock pot. I wanted something a little more eco-friendly. So I did some research online and found myself a solar oven. That would be the perfect solution for my new, off-grid lifestyle.

Chuck sent me a message telling me he had a great surprise for me. It was in the barn waiting for me. No, he wouldn't give me even a little clue. He wanted it to be a truly great surprise when I returned. He mentioned that I might not hear from him so much now as he had become a member of the volunteer fire department and was going to lots of training sessions. I was so proud of him. I was sure this would be good for him in many ways.

Later he started sending messages of distress about his rental situation. He had lost his job at the mill and was back on welfare. The other guy on the property where Chuck lived didn't like that Chuck was there all the time now, since the guy's wife was also there and he seemed to think something might be going on between them. Meanwhile, Chuck had started not paying the full rent amount, due to broken water pipes and electrical issues. So the landlady, Pam, had left an eviction notice on his door.

Chuck knew that this notice was not legal and had no validity so he was making plans with his social worker to fight it in court. He told me how much this social worker, Ann, liked him. He could get her to do just about anything for him. He said she always told him that he was unique. Here is something he wrote to me, explaining how she was looking out for him.

Oct 6            
My worker told me that the landlady called social services, complaining about me not signing the lease and whining I was giving her a hard time. Ann sort of hinted that they told her that if I was paying the rent to go blow it out her ass . Pam also told them she was going to evict me, but social services already knows my situation here, the insulation/sewage problems, etc.
Nice try, Pam. I'll be "doing" her as soon as I know she's in Florida - wonder how THAT will go when it comes to the part for her to attend a court hearing. A no-show on her part would almost guarantee a win for me. I'd probably win anyways, but I'd love to see her holiday interrupted - serve her right. Everything should be froze up pretty good by then, too.
So forget her 1 year lease - I'll fuck her on her 60 day notice too - I'll go straight to the dept. of health - they're a lot quicker than the court. But I can possibly get money off her thru the court - I'll sting her on both ends - but no rush on my part. Ann read me the whole report on Pam's call, and Pam will never know that I know, unless I tell her.
I was pretty anxious to get back and see what I could do to help. Just before my next trip he told me he had been sick a lot, probably due to not being able to afford decent food. This had caused him to be “fired” from the volunteer job because he wasn't able to keep up with the other fire fighters. He had been looking online for food supplements and found something that looked good called N-large. It's a powder you mix with liquid and has lots of nutrients in it. Chuck couldn't order it because he had no credit card. So I found it online and had a gallon of it delivered to him, $100.

He said:
In a way you sent me up some Health "Insurance"!! - Well done :)
I said:
Well, you know, sweetie, that I worry about you. You seem to have so many challenges.
He said:
Oh, you don't have to worry about me. I have a guardian angel who watches out for me. No matter how bad things get, they always end up working out just fine. It's probably because I'm such a good guy. I am totally honest and I would never hurt anyone. So Momma Nature provides.
Then I didn't hear from him again. 

I returned at the end of November, wanting to spend another Christmas and New Year. First thing I did was call Chuck, but his phone was disconnected. I went to the barn to see what my surprise was. The first surprise was the barn was half filled with Chuck's stuff: boards, mattresses, window panes, old computer parts, all sorts of things. Then I saw it, a wishing well! I had mentioned before how much I wanted one to set over my well head, which was a big metal thing sticking up in the yard. Now, this wishing well had obviously been picked up at the dump as it needed painting and such, but I loved it. It was just what I wanted.

I went over to Phil's where I learned that Chuck had moved out about a month ago. Phil said he'd seen his truck around now and then but had no idea where he was living. So I went back to my moving in chores. I still had boxes of clothes I hadn't unpacked yet. I do have a lot of clothes, I admit it. But I figured if I kept them all then I would never have to buy any again. Another way to save money. 
 
This little old house, though, doesn't have much closet space. I had only brought two sets of drawers so I knew I was going to have to put up shelves. But where? Well, there was the one room with Chuck's cupboards which he had built, and all of his personal belongings were gone from there now. I didn't feel right using his furniture so I took it all out and put it in the barn. At long last I no longer had to climb over boxes scattered about the house. They all went in my newly emptied room.

I pulled out my wishing well and painted it and put shingles on it to match the shingles on my roof. I had found some in the barn left over from when the house was shingled, just a few years ago. I kept myself very busy all the time to keep from stressing about why Chuck had just vanished. 
 
I spent Christmas and New Year with Phil and his family. It was, as always, a wonderful time, lots of food and laughs. I was sure fighting off some major depression, though. It looked like my friend had abandoned me and I did not know why. It poured down rain on New Year's Eve and I stood out in it at midnight to add my tears to the drops falling on the ground. Then I told myself that I had the most wonderful place on earth to live and I would just have to learn to be happy with that.

A few weeks later I was downtown and I saw Chuck's truck in the parking lot of the post office. I took a few deep breaths and went in. Chuck was at a counter, sorting through some mail. In spite of my pounding heart and the electrical shocks running through my nerves, I managed to walk behind him and “accidentally” bump him. I mumbled, “Sorry.”

He said, “No problem,” and then he turned and looked at me. “Well, hi! How are you? How has everything been going for you?”

I'm okay, I guess. Kind of been wondering what happened to you.”
 
All kinds of things have happened to me. I got booted out of that other place and had to spend a little time living in my trailer which the Clines let me stash on their property for a while. Then I found another little place for rent. It's cheap and the only heat is a wood stove so I've been spending all my time cutting wood. I had another job at a garage for a bit, but I didn't like the way the owner treated his customers so that didn't last. My wee house faces the river over there, across the bridge. Do you have time to come over for a coffee and you can see it?”

Well...all right.”

So, I followed him over and he showed me where and how to park on the other side of the road, because once again there was another house on the property and they were real nasty about anyone taking up even an inch of their “side.”

It was a nice enough little place; the view of the river was fantastic. Chuck had made a number of modifications to the place to make it warmer and more comfortable. I was impressed. 
 
We had a coffee and chatted about this and that. I was very pleased to see that he was wearing the house shoes I had given him our first Christmas together. I decided not to mention anything about them, but I told him how much I loved the little wishing well and how I had fixed it up.

He then said I would have to go now; he had lots of stuff he had to do. But he asked me to return tomorrow and plan to spend the night. He had two beds and I should bring some beer and it would be just like old times. We could drink, play some Cribbage, have a meal and then sleep. Sounded good to me.

I went over early afternoon the next day and he seemed a little jumpy. He kept getting up to look out whenever a car would go by. We had a couple of beers and he relaxed a bit and was showing me all of his photos on his computer. Then I heard a car door outside and said I'd get up and look.

There's a little red car in your driveway and a very attractive red-headed lady just got out and is headed for your door.”

He jumped up. “You just stay there, I'll be right back.”

So he went to the door and brought in the woman and said, “Maria, I want you to meet Ellen. You two have a whole lot in common. She is single and just moved here the same time as you. She even lives out by where you do.
 
I met her a couple of months ago while I was outside working on my wood pile. She was driving by and saw the stacks of wood and wanted to know if I had any to sell. So we got to talking and I've gone over and chopped some wood for her. I just knew you two should meet each other. And now, here we are.”

She and I chatted for a bit, exchanged phone numbers, but the tension in the room was sure palpable. Thankfully, she left fairly soon. Then Chuck was Mr. Cheerful and we spent a delightful evening together. All was well and we were back together again.

I would go over and he would show me all about how to chop and stack wood. He taught me how to tell the difference between types of wood and how they would burn differently. He showed me how to load a wood stove and how to keep it burning. He had rigged up this nifty device with a thermostat and a light bulb. At night when the fire died down the thermostat would turn the light on by his bed and wake him up so he could reload wood. He was truly the most inventive person I had ever met.

But, again, one night came a panicked phone call. “Maria, I really need your help. My landlady is coming over tomorrow, with the police, to inspect my house. She's been bugging me about my wood in the yard and how I enclosed the front porch with glass. You saw all of that; you know I did nothing to alter the place. I just put up things to keep it warmer in here. The walls are all self-supporting and can be taken down in a matter of minutes, no damage to the property.

So I told her no, she could not just come into my house. Then she said she was coming with the cops and would break the door down if necessary. All I want you to do is come over and write down everything that happens and everything that is said. I know you are really good at that. You can do some sort of shorthand, right?”

Well, of course I'll be there. You can always count on me.”

It turned out to be not all that dramatic. Yes, she came with two police officers. She had some sort of club to break down the door, which she did swing a little bit and hit the door knob. Chuck took pictures of that. But he had left a key outside and told her she could use that instead, if she wanted to. So they came in, walked around, and I wrote down everything that was said and done. Then they left. But she left Chuck with an eviction notice based on what she had seen that day, for the very first time.

We discussed that at length after they left. How could she already have on paper something they only just saw that day? Did the neighbors peek in the windows when he wasn't there? Chuck said he was sure they just had a family member they wanted to move in, so he would have to go. But he was going to fight it. He had my notes; he had his own notes and pictures. He was going to court.

But, then it was time for me to leave the country again, in order to stay legal. So I had to go.


Friday, July 8, 2011

Chapter 7

Chuck started doing work around my property again after I left. I had invested in a cell phone to leave with him so I could reach him wherever he was in case of anything urgent. I also signed up for a very affordable long distance service on my other phone and we would talk for hours on end.

He was doing alterations to the house and keeping the property looking nice. I paid him constantly for everything he said he did. One time he called me collect on the cell just to ask a simple question he could have asked about in an email. I told him to please not do that as it cost 30 cents a minute and that could add up pretty quickly.

Later I got this e-mail:
Consider sending me a money thingy for another 400 or so - what I have will barely cover 1 battery and 5 bundles of insulation - I don't wanna discuss it now - unfortunately I feel somewhat reluctant to ask you for money - that's your fault for going on a rag about 30 cents for a one-minute phone call - work on that - we both know I will need $$ for the property- not me, the property . . .
I replied:
Check is in the mail.
Finally it was time to return. Chuck had a court date and I was to be a witness, along with Bernie. We both knew that Chuck had done no damage to the house. We were going to testify to what a conscientious, honest person he was.

I was informed that I would have to drive myself to the court house since Chuck wasn't sure what he would want to do afterwards. So I followed him to Northview and Bernie met us in the parking lot. Several of the police force from Whispering Springs were also there as witnesses and we ended up waiting outside the court room all day as his was the last case called. I did have a nice time chatting with Bernie all day.

At long last Chuck was called in. He was not allowed to call either me or Bernie as we were just listed as character witnesses. The case was all about did he pay or did he not. The judge had no interest in what his character was. When Chuck came out of the courtroom he said he got confused and wasn't sure what to say. But he had a feeling it would be alright. He had turned over all his pictures and documents of what happened to the judge. Now he and Bernie were going to go out camping and I should just go back home. Thanks for coming. 
 
Yes, I was extremely pissed off about that. But a little later that night, they called me. Drunk, silly, funny, they both raved about what an awesome woman I was. All was forgiven.

Then I left the country again, to stay within my time allowance. I got an email from Chuck. He lost the case and had to be out of the house in 90 days. Worse news, his father had died. The man was 95 and had been ill so it wasn't a complete surprise. He had lived in a big city, too far for Chuck to drive, and he couldn't afford a train ticket to attend the funeral. So I asked what it would cost and sent him a wire transfer for the amount.

Sixty days later I returned. Again, I had heard nothing from him since he had come back from the funeral, when he wrote once to thank me and told me it was a very difficult time for him. But I knew the date he was to be out of his house. I started driving by the place to see if there was any sign of him moving. None.

I did, though, get an interesting phone call from Ellen. “Hi. Remember me? I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get in touch, my life has been very busy. I've finally got my house all painted and everything put away. I was wondering if you would like to come over this weekend. I'll make some snacks and I have a lovely bottle of wine we could share. Ask Chuck if he'd like to come, too.”

Well, Chuck probably wouldn't be interested right now. His father died and he's having a hard time with that. Plus he's being kicked out of his house and I don't know if he has another place to move to or not. But I'd like to come over. I could really use someone to talk to.”

She gave me directions and a couple of days later I drove out to her place, which was even more remote than mine. There were no neighbors to be seen, anywhere, for many miles. Her house was absolutely adorable.

She told me all about her life and how she had finally come to this remote spot. She had long been in animal rescue and this always caused problems with neighbors, so she decided she didn't want neighbors anymore, ever. She now had three dogs and eight cats.

Being an animal lover myself, I was in fur heaven there. I told her I had always had cats but with my situation of having to go back and forth all the time now I couldn't possibly take on the responsibility of a pet. Someday, though, once all the hurdles had been overcome I would be able to stay and then I would sure have cats. And dogs. And chickens. Maybe a horse or two. We bonded like crazy.

She told me how odd it was that first time we met. Chuck had called her and practically begged her to come over that day because he wanted her to meet me. We finally agreed we didn't understand why it had happened but we were both glad it did.

By our second bottle of wine, I was pouring out my heart about Chuck. “I am so in love with the man. He is like a dream come true, except I'm never sure what he thinks about me. He has so many problems in his life, and if he would marry me all those problems could be overcome and he could finally have the chance to live the life he desires. We are so perfect for each other. But he just seems to be so inside himself that he can't see what's going on right next to him.”

I think it's all going to work out, Maria,” she said. “You two really do seem to be meant for each other.” I slept on her couch that night.


Friday, July 1, 2011

Chapter 8

On the day before Chuck was supposed to be out, I went over to his place around 10 in the morning. I knocked and knocked on the door. No response. I went around and started pounding on the windows. “Wake up!” After about 20 minutes I heard the front door unlock, so I went in. He was in bed, covers over his head. He said, 'Leave me alone. I just want to die.”

No, I'm not going to leave you alone and you're not going to die. I care about you and I am here to help you move out, to my place. I will load up as much as I can here today, and tomorrow I will be back with a friend and a truck and we will get you out of here, to a place safe.”

I loaded up my van and the next day came back with Phil and his truck. Chuck was up and dressed and ready to go. We worked all day moving his stuff out to my property. He slept at his place one last night and I went back over the next morning to help him clean it. At the end of that day we went back to my property. Now, since I had removed his furniture from my house, we had to pull his trailer out from the Cline's and set it up so he would have a place to sleep. But we did it. The next day he got up and built himself a storage shed. He was here.

But he would not come into my house. He insisted that I had thrown him out when I moved his stuff to the barn. He didn't want to risk that again. He said he would just live in his little trailer out here and get his head together and decide what to do next. He would give me $150 a month to pay for his electricity. I had to stay away from him, though, because he couldn't think straight when he was around me. He arranged to have a phone line installed for himself.

I thought it might be a good time for me to leave again for a while, give him a chance to be alone and think things through. I left him a list of things I wanted him to do for me while I was gone, if he felt like it. I stayed away for six weeks and he would send me emails about what he had accomplished. We resumed our long telephone conversations. One day he accused me of stealing the wishing well. I reminded him that he had told me it was a surprise for me.

Yes, but that didn't mean you could just take it. I had planned to fix it up and sell it to you for $80, which is a lot cheaper than you could buy one at the store.”

Well, since I had to fix it up myself, how about if I give you $40 for it? Just add it to my bill.”

Those bills were usually $400 to $500. One of the things he would do is to take loads of trash, that had been left in the shed by the previous owners, to the local dump. The really cool thing about the dump was that you could take stuff out of there, too, on Saturdays. That was where Chuck had picked up pretty much everything he now owned, including that wishing well. “People throw away perfectly good stuff.” We often discussed the idea of fixing things up from there and selling them, since we are both quite handy. We could set up a little sales area alongside the road and make a few bucks that way.

On one Saturday afternoon I emailed and asked if he had found any new treasures at the dump that morning. He replied that he hadn't felt like going that day.

In a few weeks I returned. He came out to greet me, all smiles. I said, “Hi, sweetie. I'm so happy to be back. The place looks great. Thanks for all the hard work you've done.”

Stop calling me that. I hate it.”

Sorry, I can't help it. I've been calling people I'm fond of 'sweetie' for a very long time. It just pops out.”

Well, pop it back in because it makes me furious.”

Okay, I'll make an effort. Maybe if I just try to remember to call you something else... Jerk Off, perhaps.”

Don't try to get cutesy, Maria. It doesn't work on me. If you have to call me something, just use my name. I'm not going to let you ruin my good mood, though. I just got a call to start a job at a new garage in town.”

Chuck, that's wonderful news! We should celebrate. I'll run into town and get some beer.”

Yeah, good idea. Here's my bill for the work I did this month. You can stop at the bank and get the cash to pay me.”

You got it. I'll be right back.”

The bill was for $300, that would be for 15 hours work above and beyond the $150 he owed me for rent that month. When I looked at it closely later I saw he charged me for going to the dump that same day he told me he didn't go. I even checked my email to be sure about the dates. I knew it wouldn't do any good to say anything about it, though. I already knew he would explain that he put the bill together later and was just guessing at the dates. He had explained this to me before.

Monday, then, was his first day at work. I told him to come over before work and I'd make breakfast for him. He agreed. So I got up and made coffee and eggs over easy with ham, tomato, cheese, and toast, just like the pictures he used to send me. As I set the plate in front of him he said, “Is that cheese? I can't eat this, it's too heavy. I won't be able to work.”
 
I'm sorry. I thought you liked cheese. Here, I'll scrape the cheese off.”

Thanks. Got any ketchup?”

He ate it, then told me not to make breakfast for him anymore. Okay. Then he told me it would be better if I made supper for him. I should just cook something and put foil on it and leave it on his table in the trailer for when he came home. He could then heat it in the microwave. He would be too tired to visit with me and would just want to eat and go to bed. Fine.

That lasted for two nights. One was beef stew and one spaghetti. Then he called and told me not to do that again. He said that what I cooked didn't agree with him. It had too much “flavor.” He was afraid he was going to get food poisoning. He would rather just put something in the crock pot each day to have when he got home. Okay, whatever.

His job lasted two weeks. He got fired for being “too slow.” He explained to me that he was just meticulous in his work and the garage wanted work done quickly so they could make more money. I understood. It just wasn't fair to him.

I spent hours listening to him, praising his work and abilities, and just trying to make him happy and optimistic. I've only been fired from a job once but I know what a blow it can be, even when it's a place you didn't really like working. His mood gradually began to improve.


Friday, June 24, 2011

Chapter 9


Finally, glorious summer has arrived here and we start having fun again. Chuck sometimes brings me bouquets of wild flowers. On hot days we sit in the creek together. We have a bonfire almost every night. We hike in the woods. We play Scrabble and Cribbage. I'm very happy.

He sometimes puts music on, that same mix he always plays. I like it, but he will only listen to that certain group of songs, over and over again. He is not interested in hearing anything new. He doesn't even like to listen to the radio.

Since he still refused to come into the house, instead he would come over and sit on the south side of the sun porch with me. There's windows that run the entire 15-foot length of the porch, affording a beautiful view. We would sit and talk for hours about our plans for the future, things we could do with the property, businesses we could start here.

Sometimes we would ride to the edges of the property, in his truck, and hike around enjoying the wilderness. There were always a number of animal tracks to look at and talk about. Then he showed me the raspberry bushes. Oh my, I have my own fruit. I got on the internet and learned all about wild berries. Later I discovered I also have blueberries.

Neither of us has a television so I spent a lot of time listening to public radio, which I really enjoy. I learned so much about the country's history and the people and government. I believe public, non-commercial radio is a true blessing.

Ellen starts coming over on weekends; she's got a job now at the nursing home. The three of us sit around the fire and drink and talk and have fabulous times. One night we start talking about Alzheimer's and I talk about my mom who is now in a nursing home for that reason. It makes me so sad and I wish I could bring her here to be with me as I know she would love being out in nature. Of course, that's not even remotely possible. We also agree, Ellen and I, that should either of us be stricken with it, we would rather take our own lives than go through the ravages of that horrible disease. 
 
Chuck thinks his mom might have it because when he went to his dad's funeral, afterwards, everyone gathered at a restaurant and had a meal, and then everyone was presented with a bill for their own food, even though his mom was quite wealthy. He said he'd never heard of such a thing and Ellen and I had to agree. He had told me many things about his mom over the years. His two brothers despised her. She was, apparently, very cold to them as children. She sounded pretty awful to me.

One beautiful night in July, Chuck and I were sitting outside. We'd had a few beers and he took my hand, looked deeply into my eyes and said, “Please promise you will always be my friend.”

Oh, of course I will, Chuck. You know I love you. I would do anything for you.”

I'm not sure I can ever say I love you to anyone again. But I would still be willing to marry you, that way you can stay here all the time.”

Did you just ask me to marry you?”

Yes, and I swear I will.”

There are no words to describe how happy I was that night. Or the next day when I called Ellen to tell her. She insisted on being my maid of honor, and I said of course. I wanted to have a private ceremony here, by the creek. Bernie would probably want to be best man. Then we'd have a huge party, set up a bunch of tables outside with food and beer and wine and invite all our friends. I have a little stereo we could set up for music.

I went out that day and added his name to the mailbox, right next to mine. I still remember how giddy I felt, doing that. At last, we are a team. When one door closes, another opens. I am living proof of that. You just have to trust in the higher power, and all things will work out, in the end.

I started searching online for someone who would come out to perform the ceremony. I also had to find out what sort of paperwork would be involved to make this happen. Turns out I had to get a special form from a lawyer, since Chuck and I had both been married before, in different countries. First we would fill out the marriage license application and take it, along with all the paperwork from our previous marriages, to be sent off with a letter from a lawyer saying we were both truly no longer married to someone else and then we would receive a letter of permission from the state.

Chuck signed the license application and agreed to let the lawyer pull his divorce records. Then he told me,” Since you're going to find out about this anyway, I might as well tell you first. My divorce was granted on the basis of abuse. But I only hit her once.”

What does that mean, exactly?”

After she told me she was leaving me, one night I asked if we could go out to dinner and talk. Then we went back to the house and ended up having sex. Afterward she said to me that the only reason I wanted to be with her that night was to fuck her. So I slapped her.

I immediately realized I had done a terrible thing, so I got up and went to the guest room. She never spoke to me again after that. Then she filed the divorce papers based on abuse and she got her way. My lawyer was worthless and did nothing to defend me. I lost everything.”

I told him if he ever hit me he'd end up missing a hand. I will not tolerate that from anyone. Was that really the only time he had ever done that?

Yes! Well, no. There was one other time, back when I was 15. I had a friend who was a girl. We were walking home from school one day and I told her about this other girl I wanted to go out with. My friend said that girl was a slut. So I slapped her.

I realized right away that I had done a bad thing. I apologized but she never spoke to me after that, and I resolved I would never do that again.”

Yet, you did do it again, later.”

Yes, I admit that. But now I really understand how terrible it is to hit a woman. I couldn't live with myself if I ever did it again. I swear.”

So, off I went to meet with the lawyer and turn over all the paperwork, plus $500. I was told it could take a few months to hear anything back. A letter would come in the mail. I then explained all this to Chuck and he told me not to tell anyone about it. He didn't want anything to mess up his welfare status.

I told him, “Well, once we're married you won't have to be on welfare anymore. I have enough money to support us for a couple of years and then I'll be able to get a job here. And I will. I'll work, you stay home and take care of the property. It will be a perfect situation. Trust me, we can do this.”

August came and I should have gone back to my country then, but I didn't. I was having too much fun and was so busy with making plans. Plus I got a letter saying the marriage application was missing certain forms and I had to dig that all out again and resubmit it. So I really needed to stay here and keep on top of that process. Meanwhile, we were the happy little couple, me in the house and he in his 13-foot trailer.

He had to stay in the trailer because of the welfare thing again. He told me that if anyone found out he was living in my house, or even if we were having any sort of relationship, they would cut him off. Our relationship had to appear to be one of business only. We couldn't even be seen in town together.

In September he called to say, “There is this 18-foot trailer for sale in the want ads. I'm online with the guy right now. He emailed me pictures and it looks real good and it sure would be great to have. We could take it to go on trips. Besides, we can be married but you know we both need our own space so this would be perfect. I'll park it right next to your door so it will be just like having a whole 'nother wing of the house. Plus, we can live in it while we're doing renovations on the house. 

It's only $1,000 and if you buy it for me, I will pay you back. When I do stuff for you, instead of paying me $20 and hour you give me $10 and the other $10 can go to pay off the loan. Plus, it's a 3-hour drive from here and since it's fall it would be a great road trip for us, lots of beautiful scenery. Should I tell him we'll be there tomorrow?” Oh, he does know how to play me.

So we went, we got it, and it was a fun trip. We went in Chuck's truck since it has a towing hitch. After we acquired the trailer we stopped in Northview to buy the wood stove Chuck was sure would be perfect for me. I paid for the gas since this trip was all about buying things for me. We also drove by Bernie's to tell him our good news, but his truck wasn't there. We figured he was still out camping somewhere.

As soon as we got back, Chuck immediately went to work getting the new trailer all set up as permanent housing. Instead of putting it next to my door, he parked it over by his other trailer, about 30 yards from the house. He told me he was too tired to try to back it up into position. We could do that later.

He installed five electric baseboard heaters that he got from the dump. He put an old wood stove that the Clines gave him next to the trailer and built a little lean-to over it. It seemed to be a good setup.

So, then we would cook and eat together, and spend evenings playing board games in the trailer. We would go to bed together in the bed at the back end of the trailer. We slept in the spoon position, with me in the back. I would give him massages to help him relax. Since I'm an experienced masseuse, he certainly seemed to enjoy that. We would sleep for a while until he started getting restless, then I would crawl over him as gently as possible, whispering words of love. I would lightly kiss his forehead and say goodnight, then walk back over to the house. I loved those walks under the stars. Sometimes I didn't even bother putting my clothes back on. 
 
We never actually had sex there, never have. He couldn't. I didn't mind, though. We liked to just hold and touch each other. That seemed to be working fine for both of us old folks. Until the night I touched his face, while he was sleeping.

He woke up screaming. “What are you trying to do?”

I said I was just brushing his hair away from his mouth so he wouldn't swallow it.

He told me, “Don't ever touch my face or my throat. I sometimes have nightmares about someone trying to strangle me. I think it might be my mother. She never wanted to have children and she always went blind for awhile after each of us was born. She never showed any of us any sort of affection so it makes me very uncomfortable now when someone does.”

Well, Chuck, I do love you and I believe that in time you will come to understand that. I will respect your wish to not be touched. I'll just keep telling you how much I love and appreciate you. I promise. Is it okay to keep giving you back rubs?”

Well, yeah, that's okay.”




 



 

Friday, June 17, 2011

Chapter 10

After we got the trailer our topics of conversation changed. Where we used to discuss all manner of things about the property, now all I would hear about was what he was doing with the trailer. If I tried discussing something I was doing with the house he would just tell me to be quiet, to zip it. Sometimes it was because he already had too much to think about; other times it was that my plans made no sense. He started telling me that I was delusional, that I didn't really have a good grasp on reality. I thought he was referring to my construction ideas. 

October, then, was time to make a supply run to Northview. Chuck didn't want to go, so he made a list of things he needed, which I bought for him. Instead, while I was away his plan was to go into the basement of the house and run a 220 power line out to the trailer so he could use the baseboard heaters he has installed. It would be getting cold soon.

I go, I shop, 6 hours later I'm back. While I was there I drove by Bernie's, but his camper still wasn't in the driveway.

When I get home Chuck doesn't come out to get his stuff. I unload mine then go over to see what's up. He is in a fervor; his computer is dead. He has been working on it all day, but it's gone.

I tell him not to worry, I'll find him another one. I know how important the internet is to him and I will start looking online for a used computer. I really can't afford to buy him a new one right now, but I know there are lots of good used ones out there. Microsoft just put out a new system so lots of people should be looking to get rid of their older ones. I'll search the local classifieds and then call him if I see one that seems right. If he is interested I will get a phone number he can call and they can talk about it. Then I will go pick it up and pay for it, provided it's only a few hundred dollars.

It took two days to find one. It was at a computer repair shop in Northview. The price was right and it was a very good one, an XP. Once again Chuck didn't feel like going. So, when I was in the shop to pick it up, I put Chuck and the salesman together on my cell phone, to work out any issues. I only wanted to be the delivery person, which I told Chuck several times. I also drove by Bernie's once again. I still saw no camper.

When I later pulled into my driveway, I expected to see a happy recipient of the gift I just gave. Instead, I had to carry the boxed computer to the trailer. This was about 3 in the afternoon. He came to the door, took it, said thanks, and went back in to set it up. I was relaxing outside about 40 minutes later when he yelled across the yard, “Where's the disc?“ He stormed towards me.

What disc? I asked the salesman if there was a Windows disc and he said he explained to you that you did not need a disc, just the registration numbers, and you agreed to that. You have his phone number. Call him if something isn't right. Don't kill the delivery girl.”

I barely remember exactly what was said next because it just blew my socks off. I swear, those beautiful hazel eyes turned black. He said, “This isn't working out; you never do anything right.” Then he accused me of stealing from him. There was stuff in my house that I had taken from him without even asking. He had never met anyone who could do such a terrible thing, stealing from a poor man.

He mentioned a small stool in my kitchen. I tried to remind him that back in the spring, when he moved out here, he one day filled up his truck with stuff to take to the dump. He was tossing out a little, crappy wooden stool with peeling paint and I said, “I'll take that. I can use it.” So he handed it to me.

Then he says something about the green rugs he saw in my house and how they were his. I obviously stole them on the day I helped him move. I have 3 green rugs and I know, beyond a doubt, that I purchased all 3 of them, because of the drafty floor. He tells me that I am delusional. Now, I was pretty fed up at that point, so I got up and went in. I can't try to talk to him because if I try to talk to him, he tells me not to. Anything I say is just trying to justify my (wrong) actions.

I think about this for a couple of days and tell myself he's just cranky. I've known lots of cranky people in my life. If you love them you just learn to deal with the cranky times by stepping away for a bit. They'll get lonely after a while and get back in touch.

Sure enough, he called and apologized for blowing up. He remembered giving me the stool. He still thought, though, that some of his things were over here.

Yes, there are things of yours over here.” And there are, but he put them in here when I first bought the place and here they have been for years. Some boards, an old chair, a couple of candles, I don't even know anymore what is whose. No green rugs, though. So I say, “If I give you $200 would you feel compensated for everything and we can just put this behind us and move on?“

Well...., okay. I have a list though, and I'm going to add it all up. I'll give you the list.”

I still never have seen that list and really have no desire to. But, I go over to give him the money and that's when he tells me that he realizes that he has a brain problem and he has had it before, so he is going to go and get medical help. I just need to stay away from him for awhile because I am part of his problem and he really needs to talk to a psych doc about it.

See? He loves me, he just has trouble admitting it and this sets up an internal conflict. I tell him I think that it is a very good idea to seek help and I will do whatever it takes on my part. Nothing in the world means more to me now than he does.

I started looking online for information about mental disorders. I started in that same chat room where we met, which had a forum about mental health. I wanted to learn more about bipolar disorder. I had read a little about it and realized I had seen the manic/depressive stages in Chuck many times. So I was asking people online for any good websites. I found and read some, plus I made a few new friends. One was a guy who called himself Dog.

I posted:
I don't understand what is going on with my husband to be. He gets in these rages and goes for weeks without speaking to me even though we live in the same place. Then suddenly he'll get all friendly again as if nothing happened. This is putting a lot of stress on me but I really do want to understand what he is going through. I think he might be bipolar. Does anyone have any insights or suggestions that might help us get through this?
Dog wrote back to me in a private message and included an essay he had written a few years prior. It explained how he had been brutally cruel to his family and friends and was finally admitted to a hospital where he was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. After some years of hospitalizations and different drugs and psychiatrists, things finally turned around for him and he was able to become a normal person again who could keep a job and get along with people. He said he hoped his story would give me some hope that my situation could be improved, as well. 
 
I found another website which was all about bipolar disorder and I paid $100 for a book that really explains what you have to do if you want to live and survive with a person with bpd. It's a huge book with lots of information and it says it requires a major commitment. I was willing to make that commitment, though. I love the guy.

I saw him outside one day and he said hello. I asked how he was doing and he said pretty good, except he really wished he was able to use his new computer. I asked why he couldn't use it and he told me it was because he did not have the XP software disc. He was afraid to try to use it, that it would crash and there would be nothing he could do about it. He didn't want all that money I had spent to be wasted.

So, I got online and ordered a new software disc, $300. It was here within 3 days and he was very happy. He even actually kissed me on the cheek when I took it over to him. At long last, it looked as though everything was going to be okay again.