"No, Dad, that's not going to happen. I am not coming home so Mom can blame me some more because my brother is a raving lunatic. You know it and I know it. It's only Mom that refuses to admit it."
"Carling, it's really not like that..." he tried to say.
"Dad, it's exactly like that. Do you have a diagnosis yet? On Hamilton, not Mom, I mean.", I asked. Dad tried to hedge and I continued to push. "Dad, I've earned it. What's his problem!?"
He sighed. "It's schizophrenia or something." I could practically hear him crying on the phone. This was a truly horrible thing to him. Mental illness had a very severe societal penalty then; it was not something you would tell people. Mom wouldn't even admit it to herself, either then or later.
"Dad, I've earned this. He drove me from the family. I need to see a copy of the doctor's report, the full clinical results." You never know but how that might be useful someday to me, if simply to prove that when he finally drove me crazy, there was a reason for it!
Dad tried to back away hastily, but I kept pushing until he agreed to send something to me. I also repeated that I wouldn't be coming home, and that the next time I saw my brother would be much too soon. My parents had sowed the wind, and now they were reaping the whirlwind. I was sorry for Mom, but I had moved on.
I hung up on my father and sat there for a moment, until I realized just where I was. I jumped up and scooted over to the door. "Sir, I'm sorry. I should never have tied up your office like that!", I blurted out.
Lieutenant Colonel Brownell was about 45, in a semi-retirement posting after seeing action in Viet Nam and getting a little burned out. He just smiled and came back into his office, and closed the door behind him, with me still inside his office. "Mister Buckman, is everything all right?"
I hesitated before answering, and then deflected the question. "How did you end up getting called by my father, sir? If I may ask."
He nodded. "I spoke to him briefly. It seems that he wasn't even aware you were training here this summer." He looked at me curiously at that.
I just nodded. "My family and I parted ways many years ago, sir. I'm sorry you had to get involved. I apologize for that. It won't happen again." Dad probably called the house, and somebody must have given him Marilyn's number. She was the only one who had any kind of detailed itinerary for me, along with the address to send me letters.
He waved it off. "There are provisions for emergency family leave, at least for a few days. We can have you home in a couple of days, I'm sure."
"No, sir, that won't be necessary."
"Really, your class record is in fine shape. I would see no difficulty in giving you a three day emergency pass. I mean, I didn't really ask, but your father indicated that your mother and brother are in the hospital. You don't want to go home?" He seemed somewhat incredulous at that.
I had turned and was staring out his window towards one of the parade grounds. It was all such a waste. I turned back to face him. "That won't help, sir. It's not really my place to speak, but my going back won't help anybody. I'm sorry if I seem cold about it, but there's very little left for me back there."
He shrugged. "I can't say as I understand, but it's not my business. If you change your mind, my door is always open."
I snapped back to attention. It was obvious I was being released back to duty. "Thank you, Colonel. I apologize for intruding. It won't happen again." I saluted, received a return salute, and I turned smartly and headed out. I had been gone almost an hour, about fifty-nine minutes more than my brother deserved.
In my next letter from Marilyn, she did indeed confirm that my dad had called her and gotten my location. I wrote back and told her what was going on. I felt bad for my father, but he had really gotten himself into this mess, and I had no idea how he was going to dig himself out. He had been letting Mom go on for years about how poor Hamilton wasn't understood and how it was all my fault and the school's fault and everybody else's fault. Anybody but his fault. Okay, I'll grant that being a certified nut job like a schizophrenic is more than just a character flaw, but I had had enough. If it wasn't for Suzie I would have washed my hands of the entire bunch of them.
A week later I wanted that emergency leave, but not to go home. Marilyn dumped me. It was all my fault. I have a big mouth. When I was writing her, I let my mouth write my letters. She took exception to something I wrote and told me which way to head in and just how far. She also mailed me back the jewelry I had bought her.
It wasn't the first time this had happened, but it was the first time on this trip. She had dumped me between junior year and senior year before, just like now, and for a similar reason, my big fat fucking mouth. She had written me that one of her little brothers, Peter I think, had managed to fall in the fireplace. I wrote back that it wasn't a problem. She had so many brothers and sisters by that point that she had spares. Big mistake! I was promptly informed that family was much more important to her than I was, and she returned my fraternity pin.
Giving a girl your frat pin was sort of like a pre-engagement. Huge numbers of guys gave their girl their frat pin with the intention of getting in her pants. What the hell, it worked for me back then! We also had a tradition of the Sophomore Curse, which basically stated that any sophomore that gave a girl his pin would end up breaking up with her. Looked at logically, that was inevitable, since how many 19 year old kids know who they're getting married to. Okay, so I made up with Marilyn, but the curse had done its work by then. This time I didn't tempt the curse, and I didn't give her my pin.
Yes, I made up with her then, but it took me the better part of six months. No girl can dump Carl Buckman! I 'played the field', messing around with a few girls I had been dating at the same time as I was seeing Marilyn. I was a real pig. Eventually, in January, I get really loaded, lost my pride, broke my resolve, and wrote her a letter begging forgiveness. We met up and got back together again.
Okay, so I fucked up. No, I didn't say a damn thing about her family. I knew better than that. Now I knew how important family was to her. No, I really screwed the pooch this time. I called her stupid.
No, not really. It was more of an implication. She had finished with her two years at MVCC and had transferred to Plattsburgh State. She would be rooming with her Aunt Lynette, and for some reason had commented that her college degree was the equivalent of mine. Yes, I should have stopped and dropped it, Yes, I knew from living with her for almost fifty years that she was an egalitarian while I was an elitist. Yes, I should have known better because we had argued about this more than once over the years. No, I'm smarter than that.
I replied that, first, Plattsburgh State had just made Playboy's Top 20 Party Schools, so maybe she shouldn't brag about the quality education she was getting. Then I really buried myself when I commented that it was taking her five years to go through three colleges to get one degree, while I was taking four years to go through one college to get three degrees! Okay, so I conveniently forgot about Towson State, but I thought it had a certain poetic symmetry.
Strangely, Marilyn didn't agree with my style of prose. In fact, she actually took offense at my thoughts. Considerable offense. Enough offense to inform me that she didn't particularly want to hear from me again. Ever. In this lifetime or any other lifetime. Ever.
Ever, ever, ever!