Taking Out the Trash

There's no other way to put it.  After six months of abuse and denial and intimidation, police calls and warnings, under threat of eviction and unemployment and loss of her children, she finally unraveled.  There were tears and hugs and apologies and self recriminations - later in the day there were search warrants and restraining orders and an eventual arrest.  It was all very touching and highly emotional but whether it was real is yet to be determined.  I'm afraid this little drama is only act one.  For the moment, her job was saved.  Her children would be able to sleep safely and securely.  Her family welcomed her back with open arms and she'd been granted another chance.  But this is sickness, deeply rooted and powerful and very, very stubborn.  It's not over by a long shot and the road back is going to be long and littered with obstacles.

It was late in the afternoon when word of the arrest reached us.  He didn't, as the deputies suggested but didn't expect, go quietly and resisting arrest was added to the list of the charges just as more drama and chaos were 
added to a day already teeming with both.  I felt a twisted satisfaction at the thought of his being read his rights and led away in handcuffs - predator had finally become prey - and a part of me hoped they'd taken him down hard, had perhaps inflicted a little of his own back.  As it turned out, they had -  he'd fought like a typical hyped
up junkie and ended up being tasered twice before he was subdued and thrown none too gently into the back of the police car.  By the time the drug dog was done going through the house the following day, the deputies had uncovered the outstanding warrants from Mississippi and Alabama as well as a record of felony convictions and prison time, everything from robberies to credit card fraud to assault and battery.  Bail was upped to $100,000 in less time than it took the ink to dry on the police reports.

Not surprisingly, the threatening calls began the same day - his mother and sister joined forces but weren't bright enough to realize that we could "star 69"  their calls or far seeing enough to think we would report them.   A deputy returned the sister's call and we listened in awe as he told her flatly that if she continued, he would be more than happy to have her arrested and make arrangements for her to be brought here - where, he added in a soft drawled  afterthought, she could be really close to her brother.  There were no more calls.

That such people exist in the world is not news to me.  That they take advantage of and prey on the innocent and the desperate is fact.  That they succeed so easily and often is tragic.  The only thing that shocks me is that one of them got close enough to touch my life, even superficially.  I've never been on speaking terms, however briefly, with a career criminal before and I find it unsettling - not to mention disappointing.  I suppose I was expecting a little flair, a hint of mystery or casual charm rather than white trash with with bad teeth and a greasy ponytail.

And so, act one concludes with the villain in jail, the evil exposed and neutralized, the children safe and their sadder but wiser mother picking up the pieces with a new found determination to repair and rebuild.  Today I saw her smile and heard her laugh, really just naturally laugh, for the first time in months.

It's a good sign.
At least that's what I hope.