Ma Bell: Bust A Move

Jeff, Glen, and Sam, the dog.

Moving is one of my least favorite things to do.  I had moved so many times in my life, I just hated it.  But in this case, I would make an exception.  All I was waiting for was the money, and now I had it.  My uncle had found me a car that outwardly looked fine.  I would find out about the mechanical problems as I went along.  It was only $42 bucks a month, can you believe that?  No money down, insurance included with the car payment.  I had to have a car to move in.

Now I had the car and went to an apartment complex that I had called.  I gave them the deposit and rent, and I was moving in that weekend.  I had no furniture except my bed and Glen’s bed.  Glen and Jeff had been sharing a bed.  I had sacrificed almost all of my belongings when I escaped from Ohio.  On my way to my mom’s house, I stopped at a little furniture place.  I bought a sofa and chair, and they would deliver them the next day.  It was cheaper than cheap.  I had all of my ducks in a row.

When I got to my mom’s, I told her that we would be leaving the next day.  She just gave me a dirty look.  Two weeks earlier, Ronnie demanded that I give him every penny that I had, and I refused to do it.  It was an ugly fight.  And it was in front of my kids.  He got physical with me, all 6’4” of him.  He was shoving me around, and I started defending myself.  He hit me in the face with his fist, a move that would forever change how I felt about him.  I had been hit enough in my short life.  I don’t even remember anything after that point; I lost it.  I assume that my mom broke it up.  I offered them no money when I left.  I couldn’t.  I wasn’t getting any support from Mike and was trying to save enough to file for divorce and support for the kids. On Saturday, I gathered the few things we owned, the kids and I walked out.

This would be my first breath of freedom; I had always lived with somebody.  But the idea of nobody telling me what to do or getting in my business was euphoric.  I didn’t care about what I didn’t have; I was glad to have what I did have.  My uncle had helped me move the few awkward things that I had into the apartment.  He told me that he was proud of me.  Nobody in my family had ever told me that before.  When he left, he said, “Now, Red, don’t go crazy.”  I loved my uncle more than anyone in my life.  His kind words would stick with me forever.

Glen and Jeff were excited.  They had room to move around.  They were running from one room to the next.  They were testing the faucets and the toilets.  Opening the fridge and the oven.  They were in awe.  They hadn’t had much of normal home life.  But they didn’t know that.  They thought they were just the same as any other child, which is more than I can say for my childhood.  I would never allow them to live like I did.  They would always have food and be warm and safe no matter what I had to do.

The only bad thing was that they didn’t have a TV and I couldn’t afford to buy one.  I had a radio, and they had a million toys and each other for entertainment.  I had to be very careful with my money.  I would only have twenty bucks a week for food and twenty bucks a week for my parking, gas, and lunch.  Daycare was taking a huge chunk out of my paycheck, then rent and the car.  I would save ten to twenty bucks a month for the divorce fund.  We were broke, but I would be getting a regular raise as I progressed and stayed with the phone company, and in 4 1/2 years, I would be at top pay and get a yearly raise.  And I had already made up my mind to change into a higher paying job as soon as I could.  I was making $103.50 a week.  More pay than I could make anywhere else, better benefits, and this was a company that valued their employees. (That would change in later years.)  In about a month, I would have full medical benefits, free, and have free phone service.  I had made the right job choice.

We spent a nice weekend together.  I took the boys out riding in the car.  That’s when I found out that the heater didn’t work.  Oh well.  I had blankets.  We drove around, looking to see what was near us.  There was a really nice park about a half-mile from us, a shopping center a block away. We were right off of Hawn freeway, pretty close and convenient to just about everything.

Monday morning, I had to get up at 4:30 a.m. to get myself and the kids ready to go.  Once again, I would be driving backward from the direction that I needed to take them to daycare.  But that was okay; I could live with that.  And I didn’t have to double back; I could just take a different route through Mesquite.  There was no way I would change their daycare.  They liked it, and they got a lot of attention, maybe too much for one of them.

I had to park my car right across the street from my office.  I could look out the window when I was working in the back and see my car.  I got there so early every morning that finding a place to park was not a problem.  I had everything worked out pretty well.  I had a routine!

When my friend Mary came into work, I told her about all of the changes I had made over the weekend.  I couldn’t call her because I didn’t have a phone yet.  We talked about everything while we were working in the back.  Unfortunately, Plain Jane was back there and listening.  She couldn’t wait to go and tell her group of busybodies.  I didn’t want anyone knowing my business, not them anyway.  I had to tell Late Faye because I had to change my mailing address on my employment records.  I didn’t want to tell her, but I had to, but too late she already knew that I had moved.

The handsome France came back to make some copies.  He seemed to make a lot of copies every day.  I had my back to him, and he said, “Hey Leggs, I heard you got your own apartment.”  Are you kidding me?  He didn’t even work in our office, and he knew about it.  “How did you find that out?”  He said the group of “old biddies” was talking about it when he walked by.  “Well, did you?”  I told him to go check with the enemy; they seemed to know everything.  I guess he knew not to push it; he walked out of the room and was out there talking to them.  That really made me mad; I thought he was perpetuating the problem.  I could feel my face getting hot as it did when I was boiling mad.  The door opened, and he came back in.  “Leggs.”  I didn’t answer.  He came over and leaned down in my face and put his hand on my back.  “I told them that they need to stay out of your business; I’m a supervisor too, you know.”  I could have kissed him.  I wanted to kiss him.  All I could say was, “thank you, France.”  We locked eyes, and I thought, um, what is this?  I really was very aware of him being next to me.  And then I looked out the window, and all of the bitches were watching us.  “Shit.”  That was all that I could say.