Memories

I have very few memories of my Dad's second wife Elizabeth, for which I am grateful. I did not like her. She was an angry drunk and I couldn't (and still can't) understand why my father had married her. The clearest thing I recall about her is my intense dislike; I no longer even remember her face. I retain the strong impression, however, that she was ugly- despite the fact she was described by many others as beautiful.

Despite the vagueness of my memory there are a number of moments that I recall all too clearly.

I remember the Wedding Day. There was no church, no wedding bells, no beautiful dresses, no flowers, no crowds of well wishers. Instead the marriage took place in the CBD of Perth around a large conference table in a bland room inside a blander building. There was no ceremony, or at least none that I recall. The marriage was witnessed not by a priest, but by a lawyer (I assume it was a lawyer). I remember walking through the city back to the car and the hot tarmac burning underfoot as my legs ached from the long walk.

I remember her sons, Marcus and Mathew. Marcus was a few years younger than me while Mathew was 15 or 16. Marcus was a monster of a child; ill behaved and spoiled, he threw tantrums on a whim. I owned a Nintendo 64 at the time, and I remember devoting myself to the completion of Banjo Kazooie. After 72 hours of gameplay I needed only 10 more musical notes to unlock the vital health increase that would allow me to beat the final boss. I remember arriving at dad's house one day to discover my save file missing; Marcus had erased it. I was devastated, I'd lost 72 hours of hard work and effort. I felt like crying. I could never bring myself to start anew, and I've never played Banjo Kazooie again.

I remember Elizabeth picking me up and throwing me in the pool. I was a competent swimmer by then, but I was fully clothed when she threw me in. I managed to struggle to the side. I vaguely recall her saying she didn't realise I didn't want to go in. I hated her for that lie almost as much as for throwing me in; I was wearing heavy jeans and shoes when she threw me in which is hardly swimming garb. I can't remember what happened after I was thrown in, only that I managed to pull myself out of the pool.

There is one memory in particular that is galvanised in my mind. Dad and I were sitting at the coffee table. Maybe we were playing chess? I can't recall. It was about 8 at night when she entered the room, a wine bottle in hand. She was angry and shouting, although I don't recall what she was angry about. She overturned table and smashed the wine bottle. I remember Dad yelling at me to get outside as I tried to ask what was happening. The next thing that I recall clearly is a few moments later. Dad and I are sitting in the car, still in the drive way. Elizabeth had followed us outside and was banging on the car windows. The doors were locked. She was shouting at us to open the doors. When that failed to work she tried to persuade me to unlock the door; "I've been good to you haven't I?". I responded by giving her the finger. Its ridiculous really, but above all I felt angry. Even in the midst of what was the scariest moment of my life to date I felt indignation that she thought I was stupid enough to be manipulated so easily. When I had made it clear I wasn't going to open the door she flung herself underneath the car tyres, trying to prevent us from leaving. I remember Dad waiting patiently until she was finally moved, then we backed out of the driveway. I still had no idea what was going on, and what followed was a terrifying drive through the night. I recall driving to the local police station, which was closed. We ended up spending the night sleeping in the car at the beach. Dad took me home to La Grange Road the following morning and the night's events finally caught up with me. I remember sitting in Sarah's arms, crying inconsolably.

Given the nature of the few memories I do recall clearly, I'm glad I don't remember any more.