Neighborhood Stories

Feb 5, 2020

I grew up in the southeast. We didn’t want to live there, but we didn’t have enough money. My mom divorced my father and he didn’t give alimony and child support, and she didn’t have much. She was a budding secretary and worked in reception. Wherever I lived, I had kid friends. I had boy friends, I had girl friends. Us boys, three boys, we used to get together and we’d play cowboys and Indians. Army battle. We’d play detectives. For the most part, we really got along. And I hurt one of them, and I apologized; I didn’t mean it.

I was seven years old, it was an accident. The girls had baby carriage dolls and whatever. We’d go to the beach. Her parents took them to the beach with her. Time around the ocean. It was fun, very nice. Kathy, her name was. A nice kid, Kathy. She was like six years old or something. The man my mother was married to–the second man–was insensitive. Mean, prejudiced. He didn’t act normally at times. I don’t know how she put up with that shit. He would get violent.

She used to argue with him. She couldn’t leave. She didn’t have enough money to.

And we went to another neighborhood, then to my aunt, way over in the Atlantic Ocean, beach area. And I lived there; I was raised around my aunt and cousins. And that’s it. That was in Florida.

At age 11, I visited New York in the summer. Long Island, as a kid. Then I came up to visit at age 14, to visit my father. We got along very well. And I suffered people because I was just too on edge. And I was over tired and anxiety ridden.

Siamese cats are beautiful. My father and his wife had Siamese cats, adorable. They were nice animals and I kissed them all the time. Sing and Sarah, and Ming Choi were their names. There were three of them. Oh adorable. Blue eyes, they had very blue eyes. Do you know how I suffered for years? I made them suffer. With a broom. I use to ask God for forgiveness. You always hurt the ones you love. After I left, a month later, they were all right.