And I Wonder, Still I Wonder, Who'll Stop the Rain...
Previously, Chapter 33: 40,000 Men and Women Die Everyday. Don't Fear the Reaper...
bee32. Getty Images.The entire ride home, all I was thinking about was Irv and my father, and which one of them actually passed away. Walter came to the job site and said he received a call that 'my father had died'. Irv was battling cancer, and Susan's family was already bracing themselves for his passing. I wasn't sure Walter got it right, especially after he hesitated when I asked if it was my father or my father-in-law who had died. If he'd made a mistake, it was a big mistake. Who the fuck makes that kind of mistake?
When I arrived at the apartment, I pulled into the parking lot and backed into my regular space in between Susan's bright orange Camaro and our 13' travel trailer. I took a deep breath, exhaled, and headed inside to find out if what Walter told me was true: that my father had died.
When I walked into the apartment, Susan was pacing and waiting for me. When she looked at me, she suddenly started shaking and crying hysterically. She immediately came towards me, and we embraced. We held onto each other for longer than a minute. When we finally let go and took a step back, I told her what Walter said. She could barely speak, but she managed to say, "It was my father..." Then she started crying, and we embraced again, this time even longer.
Susan knew that I loved Irv as much as she did. He had become more than a father figure to me. In every category my father failed, Irv excelled. He taught me about plumbing and, more importantly, about life.
At the funeral, Susan's family continued giving me the cold shoulder. They never worked with Irv like I had, and had absolutely no idea how close we were. It was an awful feeling, being treated as a villain at the funeral of someone you loved and respected. At least Susan knew the truth...
My parents lived in New Jersey, but out of respect, they came to Massachusetts for Irv's funeral.
The next few weeks were tough. Susan and I were falling further and further behind on our bills, and no one was there to help us. The stress of losing Irv and going into debt was starting to affect us both.
I was working with Billy and Jack, who were a few years older than me and both Nam Vets. I worked with them frequently, and at one point they told me they trusted me enough to share a foxhole, because they knew I'd cover their asses. Even in the civilian world, that's how they judged people. But in this difficult moment, these two tough guys were surprisingly compassionate and understanding. They forced me to take several breaks during the day, saying it was okay, that they understood what I was going through.
I sat on dusty plywood floors in new houses still under construction, and leaned against freshly plastered walls, trying to relax. Nothing was working. I was a mess...
A month after the funeral, I got a call from my father asking how I was doing. He said he was working for a very wealthy businessman and could get me a sales job in New York, but I'd have to fly in and interview for the job, which paid $31,000 plus benefits (1983). When I hesitated, he added that he'd pay for the plane ticket and all I'd have to do is show up wearing a sport jacket and a tie for the interview, and the job was mine. It was beginning to sound more like a favor than a job.
I was going broke working as an apprentice plumber, and the New York money was good, twice what I was getting paid busting my ass for Walter. I told my father I'd have to think about it...
My father had already manipulated Susan and me once before, just after we got married and we ended up living in Jersey the first time. When I was wrongfully terminated from a sales job, and we left Jersey and returned to Massachusetts, I promised Susan we'd never go back. Now Irv was gone, we were broke, and my father was either trying to help us or up to his old tricks. I wasn't sure, but if I took the job we were heading back to Jersey.
He gave me a couple of days to decide. He cautioned that they weren't gonna hold the job for long, and that he thought taking the job would solve a lot of my problems. He was a white-collar guy, and he was never crazy about me working for Irv and becoming a plumber.
The last thing Susan wanted to do was move back to Jersey, especially after her father died. She wanted to remain close to her mother and the rest of her family in Massachusetts, and I can't say that I blamed her.
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But our financial situation was only getting worse, and one way or another, I had to stop the rain...
To be continued...