My Father, My Bully Ch. 02

Hey. It's still me, Mark Gordon.

I'm more than a little nervous. I'm supposed to be getting married this week to the indisputable love of my life, Mandi Jackson.

Mandi is a little bit younger than me, as she will be turning 22 later this year. We met in college, where I was studying History and she was studying Theology. She's about 5'2", with flaming red hair, frame glasses, pale skin with only slight freckling... God, she's gorgeous!

Best of all - at least to me - she's a GOOD GIRL. She was raised in a very Godly home, and her father was a Baptist Minister. She's had boyfriends in the past, but has done nothing beyond holding hands and the occasional make out session. That includes with me! She believes very much in saving herself for marriage.

Well... at least she did.

I had told her all about my dad, and everything that happened between me and him - not just that, but how he was even before I met him; hell, even before I was born! He impregnated my mom while he was dating her mom, and he ultimately left my mom for the 18 year old babysitter hired to look after me. Just an absolute piece of shit.

Mandi would hold me when I would talk about my high school experiences, and reassure me - telling me that I was with her now, and I had nothing to worry about anymore. She hated the very idea of who my dad was - she said that he sounded godless and infested with demons - and if she ever had anything to do with him, it would be to either spit in his face or try and pray his lust filled demons out of him.

I was foolish enough to believe her.

See, about three weeks ago, I guess that my dad heard I was getting married, and somehow he found out where I was living, and showed up on my doorstep. He said that he was proud of me, and wanted to help with the wedding.

I was pissed, and told him that if he didn't leave, I would be calling the cops. I should have stuck with that resolve. He peddled me a pity story, I believed it, and before you know it, he was crashing on my couch.

I told Mandi about it, and she was pissed. I had never seen her so irate before! I begged her to stay away from him, despite her indignation and desire to put him in his place. She reluctantly agreed.

Look, I will let her tell you what happened next in her own words. I don't want to speak for her - suffice it to say that I will be walking down that aisle in about 4 days, and I am not certain if my young bride will be there to meet me, or if she will have chosen to instead be with my now 80 year old dad.

My heart is in turmoil, and my stomach is in knots. I hate him. I hate everything about him.

Let me take you back to when I was 18, and my mom had just died. I met my aunt at my mom's funeral - and she, too, had been knocked up by my dad, three times at that. She encouraged me to reach out to my dad, just like my mom did before she died.

Reluctantly, I called him, and he seemed receptive if not outright excited by the idea. He wired me $2,000 which I pocketed, and instead drove my KIA to Texas.

To meet my dad.

**************************************************

I was unprepared for the Texas heat as I pulled into my dad's town, not far from Tyler. It was early September, and I would be in time to register for my Senior year at the local high school, if not just a little late.

I followed the instructions I had put into Google Maps, and I was more than a little bit concerned as I noticed that it was taking me further and further into the heart of the city, into the, shall we say, not so nice areas of town.

Google Maps took me to a trailer park, Sunny Days Mobile Home Park. I swallowed hard. I guess that I hadn't ever really confronted the biases I held, because my first thought was, "My dad is trailer trash?!" which was immediately followed by the realization that I was now going to be trailer trash as well.

I didn't know that part of me existed, and I didn't quite like it. I swallowed it down and buried it deep. I didn't know any of these people, and I had no right to judge them. Besides, it's not as though my mom and I had been living amongst the upper crust ourselves.

I navigated slowly through the trailer park, probably looking every bit the creeper, as I looked for my dad's trailer. Some trailers were dilapidated and run down, others obviously had great care and expense invested into them, with their owners adding on swimming pools and front decks. I was feeling better about things all ready.

There were lots of people out and about, as it was now late morning. Practically everyone waved at me invitingly, and I couldn't help but wonder if this sort of friendliness was a Texas thing, or indigenous to Sunny Days.

Finally, I found it - 147 Austin. It was a white single wide, with a rickety white porch leading to the front door. The paint on both the trailer and the porch was chipped and fading. Discarded beer cans decorated the landscape. And right there, in the front yard, were two motorcycles, and two men who were working on them. One was short and squat, probably about 5'7" or so, with a massive beer belly. He wore a black vest covered in patches, a white undershirt covered in stains, a Budweiser baseball cap, and sunglasses. He looked to be somewhere in his 70s, with shaggy grey hair growing past his ears, and a equally grey goatee.

No doubt about it, this was J.D. Livingston. This was my dad.

The other man was massive - probably 6'2", and easily 400 pounds. He looked to be about my dad's age, dressed in a very similar manner, except that he opted for a black bandana over his head as opposed to the baseball cap, and he had a long, scraggly grey beard that grew to his chest, but no mustache.

They both stopped what they were doing and fixed their attention on me, as I eased my car to a stop. J.D. stood to his feet, wrench in hand, and took a step or two towards the car, as the big fat man slowly stood behind him.

I exited the car slowly, smiling in as friendly a manner as I could, holding up my hands to show them I had no weapons and bore no ill intent. J.D. spat on the ground, and the fat man immediately mimicked him, and then they both stared at me in a challenging manner.

"Something I can help you with, mister?" my dad huffed, sticking out his chest. I smiled and came to a stop, maybe five feet away. Hopefully out of wrench swinging range.

"Dad... dad, it's me, Mark. Julianna's son? We spoke on the phone? You said that I cou-"

"SUMBITCH!," my dad exclaimed, interrupting me. He dropped the wrench and waddled up to me, wrapping his beefy arms around me in a familial embrace. "Hell yeah I remember that, boy! Didn't quite know if 'n when you were comin'! Good God Almighty, it's good to finally meet you, son!"

He released me from the hug, and keeping one arm around my shoulder, gestured towards the giant fat man with his other hand. I could immediately smell the fat man's body odor on the slight breeze, but I did my best to not let my face betray my disgust. "That there's Tiny. You'll be seein' him around a lot around here. He's my best friend."

I smiled at Tiny and offered him my hand. He chortled, showing a mouthful of yellow and missing teeth, as he took my hand into his and shook it vigorously. "Pleased to meetcha!" he squealed.

J.D. bent down with a grown and opened the lid of the giant white cooler on the ground. He reached into it and retrieved a can of beer from the ice and chucked it to Tiny, who caught it deftly with one hand and immediately cracked it open. He looked back at me as he fished around inside the ice.

"Well, let's look into getting you settled. Wanna beer?"

I shook my head and waved my hands. "Oh no, no thank you. I don't really drink."

J.D. pulled out a beer and chucked it at me, and it hit me in my abdomen. Winded, I reflexively caught it before it could drop to the ground. Tiny laughed his wheezing laugh that I would come to hate, as J.D. pulled himself out a beer and cracked it open as he closed the cooler lid.

"Nonsense! You will if you live here," he said with a chuckle, before rearing his head all the way back and lifting the can to his lips, taking a swig from it, even as the excess beer dribbled out of the corners of his mouth and onto his shirt.

He lowered the can, and emitted an overly theatrical "AHHHHH" of satisfaction, before crooking his head back at me. "So you still in school, right? You all ready get yourself signed up?"

"Oh no, not yet," I replied. "I figured that I would take today to kinda settle, and sign up first thing tomorrow morning, and start then."

"Mighty fine," J.D. said, emptying the remaining contents of his can in one more swig. He crushed the can in his hands and tossed it aside, carelessly into the yard. "It's a damn fine school. Hell, you'll do just fine there. You'll love it. Your momma had a hell of a head on her shoulders, too, you know."

"And they got a lotta hotties there, too!" Tiny exclaimed, punctuating it with his wheezing laugh. I was kinda grossed out by a man his age saying such a thing, so I didn't respond. I didn't need to, because the next distraction came as the front door to the trailer swung open, and a young woman emerged from it.

She looked to be about my age, and was clad in the shorts and top of a basketball player. She had golden brown hair and blue eyes, and was very beautiful. She was tall, about 5'11", and had firm, slightly muscular arms and toned thighs. A small brown purse swung from her shoulders as she raced down the steps.

I couldn't believe it! Not only did I gain a dad, but I also had a step sister! Not going to lie, this prospect kind of excited me. "They're going to start basketball practice without me!"

"Shit, I'm late," she exclaimed, as she made a mad dash through the front yard. J.D. held out his arm like a road block, as it went across the girl's chest and halted her progress. J.D. gestured to me with his other arm.

"Mikayla, this is my son, Mark. He's going to be staying with us." Mikayla smiled and waved her fingers at me in greeting, and I nodded my head, offering my own smile. J.D. continued.

"Now, just like you, he just turned 18, and will be enrolling in the high school tomorrow. He's going to be in your Senior Class. Will you help him out tomorrow? See he gets adjusted just right?"

Mikayla smiled again, hands confidently upon her hips as she studied me. "Sure thing. I'll be happy to. Tell you what, Mark, I will give you a ride! Sound good...?"

I sputtered at her generosity. "S-sure thing! Sounds great! Thank you!" Man, my step-sister is cool!

"Then that's settled," J.D. said. He then turned directly to face Mikayla, his hands on both of her upper arms. "Now then, Micky, before you go, Tiny and I were planning on having some beers this evening."

"Oh!", Mikayla exclaimed, and immediately unzipped her purse, and dug through it's contents. She produced a handful of crumpled bills, and offered them to J.D. "I only have $60 - is that okay?"

J.D. took the bills with a scowl. "It'll work for now, but stop by the ATM on the way over here tonight. You... ARE staying over here tonight, right?"

Mikayla zipped up her purse and smiled at J.D., putting her arms around her neck. "Are you kidding me? You bet I am!"

With that, the two brought their heads together and kissed - a sloppy, loud, tongues wagging kind of kiss. A kiss that implied nothing about love, but plenty of sex. I was stunned, and couldn't help but watch as my father's massive, fat, swollen hair covered hands grabbed Mikayla's ass cheeks, and squeezed and rubbed them. She moaned with satisfaction, and Tiny elbowed me, to make certain I didn't miss the free show.

Reluctantly, Mikayla broke away from the kiss, and offered him one last closed lip kiss, her arms around his neck. "I'll see you tonight, okay baby?"

J.D. smiled. "You gonna stay over?"

Mikayla narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. "You're damn right I will be - not that you will let me get any sleep!"

J.D. swatted her on the ass as she ran off, and she yelped playfully. She arrived at her car, a late model 4 Runner, and waved over at me. "Bye, Tiny! Bye, Mark! Don't forget - you're riding with me in the morning!"

She unlocked the car door and got in. As she started the engine, J.D. cupped his mouth and yelled at her, "Don't forget my money tonight!" She beeped her car horn in affirmation as she drove off, and J.D. smiled arrogantly at me. "It's nothing serious," he said to me. "They come and go. Now then - let's get you settled in!"

Mikayla was not my step-sister. She was 18 years old, just like me, and she was fucking my 70 something year old dad. I should have taken that as a sign. I should have run.

But I didn't. Instead, I allowed him to lead me into the trailer, his arm around my neck, and Tiny behind us. Oh, how I would come to rue that decision.

***************************************************

The inside of the trailer wasn't much more impressive than it's exterior. The living room had one lime green vinyl sofa seated directly beneath the window, and facing the television. A armchair covered in dog hair and mystery stains was to its left, and in between them was a small stand, it's top littered with emptied and crushed beer cans, and an ashtray overflowing with discarded butts and a mountain of greying ash.

The carpet was a dark brown, outdated shag, and the only decorations on the wall was a framed poster of the Budweiser Clydesdales, and another poster featuring a well endowed, bottle blonde who looked like she stepped straight out of the 80s. She was ascending from a swimming pool, and a yellow lettered caption read, "Get Me Wet!"

There was a bookshelf beside the TV, devoid of any actual books. In their place were a collection of old vinyl records, their spines creased with age, and torn to the point of barely being legible. To the immediate right was a hallway, leading to a bathroom on the left, and ending in the darkened doorway of a bedroom.

J.D. pointed his thumb in this direction. "That there's my room," he said. He then gestured across the living room, where another hallway loomed beyond the kitchen. "Your room's over yonder."

Taking the initiative, I made my way across the living room and through the kitchen. There was a simple, aged wooden table with three mismatched lawn chairs, a sink overflowing with dishes and cups and being circled by a cloud of flies, a countertop littered with beer cans and chip bags, and a medium sized fridge. A musty smell hung heavy over the entire area.

I moved into the hall, and the layout was similar to the other - a bathroom on my left, and a room at the end. My dad followed closely behind me, both of us dwarfed by Tiny's massive frame and his constant wheezing.

I finally entered the room, and my dad flicked the light on. It was a small room, with a simple twin bed in one corner. There was an antique television across from it, sitting on an old tv tray. The framed visage of Dale Earnhardt Jr. overlooked it all with his inscrutable expression.

"Here you go, son," J.D. said. "Home." I nodded, and walked over to the bed, sitting my weary body into it.

"Tell you what, kiddo," he continued. "Tiny and I will leave you to it for a spell. Get some rest, okay? We'll help you bring in your things later. Mikayla will be over tonight, and we'll have ourselves some dinner. Sound good?"

At the mention of dinner, my brain and body were both suddenly reminded that I hadn't had anything to eat since the night prior, and my empty stomach rumbled in protest. I was absolutely starving!

But more than that, my eyes burned with fatigue, my body ached, and my head throbbed in exhaustion. I had just completed a nearly eleven hour car ride, and that was after a nearly sleepless night, as the nerves and anxiety over meeting my father kept me up almost all night.

"That's... that's actually a great idea, J.D. - uh, dad. I am beat. I have never driven more than 3 hours straight before, so I am absolutely bushed! You wouldn't mind if I crashed for a little bit?"

J.D. and Tiny both laughed, and Tiny playfully slapped my back with such force that it nearly toppled me over, and my back stung. So far, I really thought that they seemed like nice enough guys.

"Hell no, son, ain't nobody gonna think less of you for grabbing a cat nap after a drive like that! Go ahead, make yourself comfortable and get some shut eye - this is your home, now. Ok? Tiny and I are gonna go grab your things from the car and put them in the living room until you're ready. Sound good?"

I was now sitting on the edge of the mattress, untying the he laces of my shoes. I could immediately deduce that my dad didn't do much in the way of entertaining by the cloud of dust that kicked up from the bed as I sat onto it.

"That sounds great, dad. Listen... I can't thank you enough for everything you are doing for me. It means a lot... thank you." I removed both shoes, and wordlessly looked down at my toes wiggling in my socks, my brain awash in so many conflicting thoughts. "I... I still can't believe that I am here. That I am here with you... you know? I never thought that I was going to even meet you."

Tiny lowered his head, and slowly walked out of the room, perhaps uncomfortable with dealing with familial emotions. J.D. looked at me silently and thoughtfully for a few moments, a warm smile crossing his lips. He dimmed the lights, and began to close the door as he backed out of the room, until only his head and shoulders remained.

"Everyone needs family, son. Especially with everything you have been through. I'm glad to meet you, son... now get some rest."

With that, my dad gently closed the door, and I was left alone with my thoughts. So this was my new life... I was still trying to process everything, and I had no idea how to feel about any of it. But my dad seemed very welcoming, and very happy to have me here.

I sighed, and closed my eyes, hoping that my mind and body - and, of course, my spirit - would now be able to find some rest. As exhaustion washed over my body and I finally began to feel sleep stealing over my weary body, I reflected upon the fact that, in that moment, I felt at peace, and I felt like I had finally met my father, and I could trust him.

I have never been more wrong about something in my whole life.

***************************************************

I awoke with a start, my body covered in a thin coat of sweat. Moonlight came in through the dirty and broken window blinds, and I sat up in bed, my heart beating and my mind racing.

Where was I? Where's mom? What's going on? What woke me up?

As consciousness rudely began to spread throughout my head, slowly chasing away the clouds and the confusion, the reality of my situation began to come back to me, answering my questions one by one.

That's right, I am in Texas now. I am at my dad's place. My mom, she... she's dead, now. I'm staying here, in Texas, with my dad.

There was a dull ache in my heart as I remembered that my mom was gone, but that wasn't anything new. That was a morning ritual ever since I had lost her, and I had no doubts that it would continue to be a morning ritual for the foreseeable future. I mean, at what point do you finally stop missing your mother?

That just left the other questions - what was going on, and what had woken me up?

I began to rub my eyes as I pondered the situation at hand, and tried to clear my head as my fatigue and consciousness had a wrestling match inside my skull.

Then I heard it again, and my heart stopped.

It sounded like a woman yelping, perhaps in pain or surprise, accompanied by this constant, rhythmic pounding. What the hell was going on?! And who was that I heard crying out?!

I suddenly remembered my dad's teenage girlfriend, Mikayla, and how my dad said that she would be coming over again later tonight. Maybe that was her voice, then - but why was she crying out?!