Military school (and links to more of the story)

 from December 2010

***

 

Continuing this story from here 

My mom died in May, ’77.  Dad died in October of that year.

Orphaned at 15, to be clear.

 

***

We grew up as upper middle-class kids.  Dad was an engineer, working for JPL, and, I guess, paid pretty well for it, aparently.

Dad was a drunk, inclined to long phone calls to mom’s brother, who he had put in his will as our guardian and the will’s executor after mom died.  When he got drunk, and especially after mom died, he’d get on the phone to my uncle and complain about what bad kids we were.

(We were not bad kids – teenagers, and not tame, but not bad either.  Well, my brother grew pot in a terrarium at home, but, not so bad a kids.  I was a GOOD kid, a nerd, clueless about drugs, before my parents died.)

I guess he said over and over that we deserved to be in miltary school, so when he died, and the uncle became our guardian, that’s precisely what he did with the leftovers of my family – he shipped us off to military school.

buh-by boys.

None of the kids there were of the same class or upbringing.  It was an immense shock.  There was very little adult supervison after nightfall.  Most everyone else had gone through many schools to wash up on the shores of Lake Elsinore, California, where the school was located.  Kids kicked out of every school they’d been in, kids whose parent’s didn’t want them around, criminals – not the same class at all.

I was 15 and a half, and 6 foot tall already, and although I was kind of scrawny (and still am, by modern standards), I didn’t have any real problems defending myself.  My brother was always a small guy – he got in a lot of fights, but those stopped after he won all of them and no one fucked with him anymore.  I made a point out of carrying a knife.  My parents had died and left me an orphan and the family had shipped me off to hell – I did not have a thing to lose – c’mon, fuck with me asshole.

No one did.

I am here to tell you this though:

The sex of the mouth sucking your dick is indeterminable.

It was that kind of place – Lord of the Flies could not have been much different.  Power was had by who you had do what to you, and since I was the cadet in chage of my "platoon", I got mine that way too.

I’m not gay.  I like women’s bodies better than men’s, but I was 15, and a virgin, and in a place where the rules were very different, and I liked getting sucked off. 

I’m not overly proud of this, and indeed, this is the first time I’ve said anything about it to ANYONE.

The time and the place made it happen, but I didn’t stop it – it was the way things worked there.  Go along and get along or get fucked is the way I have seen the world work.

That school folded five or six months after we got there.  The headmaster, who styled himself "Colonel", had siphoned all the tuition money into his own bank account, and the school was unable to pay any of it’s bills.  He stole one of the school’s cars and fled, committing himslef to a mental institution and evading all prosecution.  My Uncle had paid a year’s tuition for both of us, he claimed, and all of it wasted.

(I’

ve come to doubt his words on anything he said.  Thieves by nature lie)

They came into Study Hall one afternoon and told us all that we had to be off the property by 2 pm the next day.  They also told us – begged us, really, not to damage the school’s buildings or each other.

EVERY window in that school was broken by 2 the next day.  Every piece of glass was broken.  I saw brutal attacks on other students.  I saw – well, you imagine it, I saw it.  I kept my knives – one of them a loong bayonet – close to me.  I didn’t hurt anyone and no one hurt me – or my brother.

It was traumatic.  The whole thing was traumatic, and it’s never really left me.  Alone is safer.

I don’t have those knives anymore – I’ve got better ones.

***

I’ve kept the same attitude.  My parents died and my world was destroyed – what the fuck can you do to me?

C’mon and try it – I got a lot of anger to unload on some luckless motherfucker.

***

I lost my newspaper distributor job in 2010, after nearly seven years of on-time, reliable service, because the boss gave away half my work to someone who I knew could not do it – who LIED to the boss when I confronted him about it and told him I had beaten him up.

(the guy was in his late 60’s, early 70’s – I woulda killed him if I touched him.  None of his lies happened but the boss believed him, not me.  God damned republican asshole)

(this piece was written in 2010 and reposted in 2012)

I dreamed of this last night, and woke up and Knew why I had gone off so bad on the paper guy – I was getting fucked, and it’s only due to the minimal self-control I had left that I didn’t hit that fucker hard and many many times.

No more job?  I had not a thing to lose whatever I did – it was already lost.

He’s damn Lucky, and the mofo doesn’t even Know how close he came to getting permanently fucked up.

It would have been scary fun, a real Release, to fuck him up, and since there’s been no UE for three weeks, maybe he will get his soon enough. 

Thank god I didn’t completely lose it.

***

No apologies for any of these words.

***

by the way, if that reader in Cornelius who reads a dozen or more pages of my diary every day  (no notes either) is stealing my pictures and making money off my work, I will not be pleased.  No mercy and a complete unloading of all that anger and shame on a person who deserves it.

 

Do not steal my pictures.

I don’t mind if you use them for yourself – I’d love to hear about it.

 

 

*****