The phone call

A few days after everything happened and with no word from Becky or her psycho parents I started to feel at ease once again.

A police officer served the divorce papers that her dictator mother had made her sign one afternoon and I knew that it was time to officially end this catastrophe, sign the papers, and move on.

I started to look at all the baggage in my life and realized that since Becky, I had given up on all my art, goals, talents, friends, and dreams for the sake of our relationship.

I was mad at letting a big part of myself slip away, all for her, and prepared to start chasing old dreams once again.

The week went by and I was approaching a sense of internal peace about myself when that Saturday, I heard the phone ringing early in the morning and wondered who would be calling so early on a Saturday? My mom answered the phone and after a few seconds, opened the door to tell me that I had a phone call.

“Hello?” I answered as I looked at the clock and realized that it was a mere 5 a.m.

“Jeremy? Jeremy? It’s Becky.”

“Oh nooooooo,” I thought to myself.

“I can’t talk long,” she said.

“You will never believe where I am.”

“Where?” I asked, interested.

“Utah,” she said.

I immediately awoke.

“What? Did you say Utah?”

“I thought you guys were moving to Oregon next week?” I asked.

“We were, but our plans changed the night that the police came to our house.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“After the police left, Poppa flew into a rage, accused me of shaming the family, threw me on the bed, beat me, and locked me in the closet for the entire night,” She said.

“Oh my God,” I said flabbergasted.

“The next morning, when he finally let me out of my temporary cell, my bags with the other bags, sitting on the front porch, ready to go. My father thought you were going to continue to come after me so he decided to send my mother, sisters, and I away early to avoid any further incident if you asked the police to come back again.” She said.

I couldn’t say anything because I was shocked and outraged, once again.

“Poppa was angry with me so he had my brother escort me to the car, saying that it was for my own good. He also said that I had better behave or he’d make it even worse for me” She said.

I was appalled. I wanted to go over to Fred’s house with a baseball bat and give him a Louisville Tan.

“Becky, what do you want me to do about it?” I asked.

“You served me with divorce papers a few days ago and told the police officers that night that you didn’t want to leave your house.”

“I wanted to leave, but I was afraid for my life!” She pleaded with me.

“My father was on the other side of the door, muttering threats to get me to get rid of the Police.” She said.

“What about the divorce papers?” I asked.

“My mother forced me to sign them. She had my brother there to report back to my father in case I didn’t follow through and I was afraid.” She said.

“Becky, I don’t know. You really hurt me and I don’t know if I can go after you again.” I said.

“Please, Jeremy, I still love you, I’ve been held against my will, and now that I’m a thousand miles away, the pain is just to much for me to bear,” she said.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Please, Jeremy, don’t leave me with them! If we can’t be together, I’ll kill myself,” she said.

“Becky, don’t say that!” I pleaded with her.

“I’ll do it, I’ll swallow a bunch of pills or drive our car off a mountain and it will be all over with,” she said.

“Becky, please stop!” I said.

“Jeremy, I still love you and promise to fight to make our relationship work, just like you’ve been fighting all along,” she said.

“I don’t know,” I replied.

“When do you guys get to Oregon?” I asked.

 “In two days. We plan on getting the new house set up just in time for Poppa and the boys to arrive.”

Call me stupid, dumb, or ignorant, but I couldn’t give up on our relationship until the last page had been turned and with her call I sensed that there was still hope.

“Becky, if I come to Oregon to get you, do you promise to leave with me??” I asked.

“I promise,” she said.

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“And do you promise that once you’re back home with me, you will talk to a counselor about your problems?” I asked.

“I promise,” she said.

“Alright, Becky, I will come after you, but you better live up to your promises and your vows as my wife. Or our relationship is over, and I will give up for good,” I said.

“Jeremy, I promise to spend the rest of my life making up for what I’ve done to you. And I promise to love you as my husband. I’ve got to go because I hear my Mother coming back to our room.”

“I’ll write you with all the details and let you know our new address once we get to Oregon.” She said.

“I love you, Jeremy.”

“I love you to,” I said and then hung up the phone, realizing that I had thrown myself back into the fire once again.

Then my door opened and my mom and dad walked in, looking worried.

“Want to talk?” my dad asked.

Both of my parents were still dressed in their pajamas and looked like they hadn’t slept at all through the night.

They sat down and I, once again, told them another part of my story, starring Becky’s unstable family. They were left visibly shocked when I told them what Fred had done to his daughter.

“You should call child protective services and have him arrested,” My dad said.

“I should, except it would be his word against mine and Becky is 1,000 miles away. And she wouldn’t be able to back up her side of the story.”

Sigh.

My parents and I sat in my room for a few more minutes when finally, my mom asked.

“What are you going to do honey?”

“I have to go after her,” I said in disbelief.

“Where are they going to live?” My dad asked.

“They’re moving to a house in Oregon in a few days.”

“When do you think you will go up after her?” My dad asked.

“I think Christmas time might be my best option because Thanksgiving is too soon. By Christmas, they will be completely moved in and any action from me will be completely unexpected,” I said.

“Well, God help you, Son.”

“Fred has broken God’s laws, man’s laws, and will pay for what he’s done,” dad said.

He then looked at the clock, then at my mom, and said, “Let’s have breakfast.”

“Now? It’s only a little after Five a.m.” She said.

“I know, but won’t be able to get back to sleep now so let’s have breakfast,” he said again, smiling.

We all got up and headed to the kitchen, all the while talking about Becky’s phone call and the big journey that awaited me. In just a few weeks, I would get on a plane for Oregon and drive to her new home in the early morning hours to rescue her and bring her back to California. I didn’t know if my plans would work or if they would fail again. All I knew was that if she was still making the effort to reach out to me, then I had to give our relationship one more try. I just couldn’t bear the thought of living my life without her or leaving her under Fred’s roof.

The next few weeks, I received letters from Becky and learned more about her family’s goings on in Oregon and their struggle due to her father’s poor decisions. By Christmas day, the day of my journey, I was ready to depart on my first long-journey, alone, after the woman I love, uncertain of what awaited me.

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