Read Part I here: Our Family Collapsed: A Prologue
That summer we moved out of our middle class suburban home, to a refurbished farm house in the middle of nowhere, in a large, churchy town on the countryside.
The property belonged to my mom’s new boyfriend-- a man almost 30 years older than her. Although my sister was young, and incapable of expressing it, I could tell she was just as shocked and confused as I was. The roles were reversed, suddenly: we were the ones “just visiting” when we went back home.
Me and my sister began our new journey, in a town we’d never been to before, with no neighbors, no nearby family members, and no friends to play Nintendo with. Everything had changed, drastically, and instantly. I had been out of public school for a year, and my poor sister, who was so codependent on her father, was beginning to distance herself from our mother, and even from me. Our lives were quickly getting less conventional, and more broken.
Occasionally, we would go back to our old home-- to visit our Dad, Mom could get money from him, and me and my sister could gather clothing and miscellaneous belongings we might want at the farm house. Every time we visited, things progressively grew more hostile. Whenever we were alone with our Dad, he would warn us of Mom and her new boyfriend. He made them out to be coke heads, junkies, drug addicts. Telling us how much Mom has changed for the worse; He even showed us photos of her as a 19 year old, smiling, and asked us, “Do you see how normal she used to be? She looks like shit now.” My sister, being closer to her biological father than I was, believed everything he said. I was hesitant to draw any conclusions.
Until one day, something struck a chord. This time, as he was lecturing us, tears shed from his eyes. I had never seen a grown man cry before that. We got in his pickup truck and he drove us to his best friend’s ranch. The sun had set, and it soon became clear he had no intentions of us leaving. I wasn’t sure what it was that lead up to it-- was he jealous and bitter, or was he truly fearful for us?
That night, I recall our parents fighting again, over the phone. My mom pleaded, wondering where we were, and step dad howled that she was not getting her kids back. This went on a few nights as he continued to hide us out at other people’s homes, so our mother would not know where we were. I was unsure who was aware of the situation and who wasn’t. What evidence did they have, that I didn’t?
Our lives did another 360. We ended up staying with my step dad’s parents, in a tiny house on the side of a dirt road. I remember the giant, dead willow tree in their backyard. Still being held captive, without my mom or her boyfriend aware of our location. We were about to start school in our old town again, and I was terrified and alienated. Grandma made us pray to Jesus every night before going to sleep, and often made sure to keep a bible next to me, as she had known I was raised Jewish.
School started, and it was the first, and last time I had ever attended the same school with my little sister. Grandma drove us to school every day, and my step dad was around far less often. My mom was finally completely out of the picture. On some days we would go back to Dad's neighborhood, and play with the kids next door or stay the night. Sometimes we stayed on weeknights and just took the bus to school, and on some Sundays we went to church with our Grandma. Back and forth we went; me and my little sister didn’t know where we would be staying each night.
One day, we were at school, on a morning like many others. I was in computer class practicing typing with other students in a dim study room. I didn’t have any close friends in that class, or elementary school in general, as I missed out on the previous year and didn’t have a home to invite friends over to. I listened to the other kids chatter and type away on their keyboards, “The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog, The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog, The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.” Suddenly, the clicks are interrupted by a BZZZZ on the intercom. It was followed by a voice calling me down to the principal’s office. My heart sunk. Why would I be in trouble? I contemplated as I walked down an empty hallway, peering into the other classrooms, wondering which one my sister was in.
Read Part III here: Getting Separated From My Sister