Higher Powers

by David P. Hillgrove

copyright©1997 All Rights Reserved

Chapter Five

The living room door opened and closed without an entrance hello or a "welcome home" greeting. Bev Causey put her keys on the foyer table and listened for the sound of life within her suburban tri-level house.

She removed her coat, but only lay it across the chair in the foyer. Perhaps she’d need it again soon, she thought, rationalizing why she wasn’t hanging it in the hall closet.

The sound of the TV from the family room caught Bev’s attention. She didn’t bother to stroll towards its sound. "Family room" she grumbled. It should be called the Isolation Room or the TV room, for it sure doesn’t host any family activities in this house. It had been years since this family had acted as one.

Inside this room slept Bud, his protruding gut the highest point in the Lazy Boy recliner. On the tube was a basketball game, names and teams unknown. Bud’s snoring was not loud, but it was anything but cute. The extra 85 pounds on his 5’7" frame closed up his airways somewhat, creating the distracting log-sawing sound. This image was definitely not a photo opportunity for a physical education poster.

Bev continued on up to her bedroom, where she changed into more leisurely clothes and turned on her computer. She had attended a charity fundraiser for over three hours, and the tight stockings, white gloves and fake smiles had worn her down, especially over the last hour. Her warm-up sweats and thick woolly socks were a welcome relief.

She clicked the icon that would launch her online and while she waited, she sorted through her postal mail.

Bills, bills, junk mail and credit card invites. She’d already opened up three new cards this year, unbeknownst to Bud. Perhaps now was not the time to go for number four. Bud didn’t pay much attention to her, or her finances, but sooner or later he’d discover that she had extended herself a little bit.

Having checked her electronic mail and finding little of importance, Bev moved on to her list of chat rooms and decided on "Married and Flirting". Two clicks and she was among twenty-one other cyberfolks, six of whom she knew well enough to post private messages or e-mail to.

While the room name seemed promiscuous, for the most part the usual visitors were long past the "hot talk" and ridiculous mating ritual so often observed on the Internet.

Her screen name was simply BlueBlood. While that may be a fantastical wish, even somewhat unattainable in the "real world", online she could represent any type of persona she’d like. She had convinced dozens of folks that she was living in a different city, and in a far different social climate. For those who believed her, Bev represented the poor little rich girl whose husband didn’t understand her, so she used her power, money and fame to adjust the world to her wishes.

In real life, only the "husband didn’t understand her" rang true.

Within fifteen minutes, Bev was deeply absorbed in the type of keyboard conversation only a cybernaut could understand.

Bud was awakened when daughter Missy came noisily into the house. Flipping the remote to the local sports broadcast, Bud’s eldest child watched with keen interest to discern if she, as a cheerleader at Riverton High School, had in fact, positioned herself strategically enough to appear on camera again tonight.
Despite her stellar photo op record for last season, Missy had been shut out tonight, and so far this basketball season, she’d only made the news twice. Higher skirts or more jumps might get that cameraman’s interest next time.

Oddly enough for most families, Bud feigned sleep the entire time Missy flipped the remote between the three local channels. Conversation came hard for these two, and after several years of Bud hollering and Missy ignoring his tirades, they had come to an understanding of sorts. He did not attempt to structure her behavior to fit his perception of an "average adolescent", and she did not openly flaunt her disruptive side.
Their agreement, authorized by each other’s silence and/or indifference, seemed to keep - the peace.

Actually, it just minimized the conflicts, which had its advantages.
Controlling Missy’s brother, Judd, was another adventure altogether.

The Causeys, Bud and Bev, had been married for almost 19 years.
The Causeys, Bud, Bev, Missy and Judd had been living in this same house for almost a dozen. The tri-level couldn’t be more suburban stereo-type, what with its blacktop driveway, obligatory decaying basketball hoop, unused treehouse and two car garage filled with junk. No car had seen the inside of that garage in a decade.

To classify the Causeys as Family was a stretch.

If they were an automobile, each tire would go off in a different direction.
If they were a battle unit, the enemy would not fear an organized, cohesive attack.
If they were a band, each would play lead improvisation, while expecting the other to remain in the background.
They were, in short, dysfunctional.

This "curse" began and ended with Bud and Bev. Their marriage was in name only. What was surprising is that the disdain each felt for the other had never been expressed either directly or indirectly. Out and out contempt for each other may prove more mentally healthy than their current strategy for dealing with their relationship.

They simply never talked about anything of any importance.

They rarely ate together, so Bev had long ago retired as Chef.
Having little in common with either of his two children, Bud had long ago stopped offering emotional advice to his offspring. They were rarely asked any questions about their school events or their friends.

Their children had their friends indeed, and always seemed to be able to find rides to events, so the parent’s Chauffeur Role was diminished.
Judd played no sports, was in no bands or school clubs, and took part in no drama or chorus. So parental attendance was no longer on daily calendars.

Missy preferred that her parents not inquire too deeply in her life. While she was overwhelmed with cheerleading antics, neither she nor her parents felt the need to support her supporting athletic teams at Riverton High School.

Missy also had an active dating life, giving her another reason to stress parental non-intervention. Many of the situations Missy put herself in would not make the yearbook or a mother’s photo album.

So without this central purpose of Child Focus, Bev and Bud were free to focus on their own lives. And instead of providing support for one another, each had developed their own world of intrigue and support. They cared little for the other’s world.

Bev spent her days with her Women’s Club activities.
She spent her nights online.

This was fine with Bud. His activities included work, coaching youth sports and eating. He was an inept manager at work, despised for his inept talent and lack of understanding. There was also the dynamics of subconscious discrimination, given Bud’s somewhat disgusting physical shape and image. He was a marginal coach, preferring baseball to basketball, and basketball to football. Between practices, scouting and coaching in games, Bud was out of the house five evenings and weekends a week.

Josh was a schleprock. He hung around with the same circle of friends since grade school. He was a seventeen-year-old sophomore, with below-average grades. He was rarely home, rarely active and rarely straight. He got high on a daily basis. He saw no reason to change.

Four schedules. Four separate agendas. Four hearts in rhythm with something or someone other than each other.
It had been years since the family shared anything resembling a vacation together.
It had also been years since anyone in the family wondered what it would take to bring them closer, again.