I CRIED FOR A LITTLE BOY
WHO ONCE LIVED THERE ©

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The Terror That Dwelled Within Me.
Death Knocked Strongly Upon My Door.

RAINBOW
     I had left New Orleans in the early afternoon but it had been dark by the time I had arrived in Jackson, Mississippi.  My ride had let me out near a truck-stop.  Even though I had held my thumb up to every truck that left the truck-stop I didn't feel that any of them would stop for me.
     It had been near midnight when to my surprise the big shiny black diesel had stopped for me. When I had left New Orleans I had left all of my clothes behind, fearing that the guy who I had been staying with might see me walking down the street with all of my belongings and try to stop me.  So when the diesel had stopped it hadn't been hard for me to climb up into the cab.
     As I had climbed into the cab the driver had asked, "Where you heading kid?"
     "To Illinois, Sir."  Had been my tired reply.  I still called everyone older than me, "Sir."  The years I had grown up in institutions had taught me well in that respect.  It had been an unconscious act on my part.  I felt uncomfortable not addressing older people "Sir" or "Mam" whenever I addressed them.  It would be years before I could break that habit.
     The heat in the cab had felt good.  I had been thankful the trucker had stopped  for me for it was now mid-January and I knew the further north I went the colder it would get.
     The noise from the diesel made it difficult for me to understand what the driver was saying after we were out on the highway.  Each time he spoke I had to lean over the "Dog-House" to understand what he was saying.
     When we had traveled about five or six miles down the road he must have noticed I was very tired for he had told me to take my shoes and clothes off and climb up into the berth.
     I was thankful to him as I had climbed up in the berth, took my clothes off and laid down.  It seems no sooner had my head laid on the pillow I had dropped off to sleep, even with the huge diesel roaring only inches beneath me.
     When I had wakened it was about mid morning the next day.  We were in Arkansas somewhere, I believe it was near West Memphis.  The  truck was being unloaded and the driver climbing into the cab was what  had awakened me.
     He had told me as soon as the truck was unloaded we would go and have some breakfast then he had to go to Little Rock to pick up a load going to Chicago, that he would be able to give me a ride most of the way home.
     I had been happy to hear that for I really didn't feel I wanted to stand by the side of the highway trying to get another ride, anyway not that day.
     Once the truck had been unloaded we had stopped at a little cafe where there had been some other trucks parked.  Even though I hadn't told the driver I didn't have any money he had been quick to tell me he would buy my breakfast.  I had intended to tell him once we had sat down, I wasn't hungry and all I wanted was a glass of water but him offering to pay had solved that problem.
     After eating he had drove to Little Rock and while the truck was  being loaded I sat in the cab while the driver had climbed into the berth to sleep.  It had taken most of the day to get to Little Rock and then wait until the truck was loaded for it was getting dusk as we had pulled away from the dock.
     Before leaving Little Rock we had again stopped at a cafe to eat.  Again the driver paying for the meal.  I think he realized I didn't have any money.  I know I had felt a little uncomfortable about him paying for my food again but I hadn't known of any way I could decline his offer without offending him, then again, I was sort of hungry.
     He had been nice as we sat there and ate.  Talked mostly about  trucking, which to me was very interesting.  Other than asking me my name he really didn't ask too much about me.  That had saved me from having to tell him a lot of lies about myself.  There was no way I could have told him about New Orleans or the years before.  I had been very much ashamed of all of that.
     After we had eaten we had returned to his "Rig."  I will say one thing about his truck, it was a beauty.  It was shiny black and it looked like it had just come off of the show room floor.  I had seen a lot of simi-trucks but it had been the first one I had ever ridden in.  He had called it a "Cab-over."  I guess because the cab sat over the top of the huge diesel engine.  I had a chance to see that engine and I didn't think there wasn't anything it couldn't pull.
     We had gone back to West Memphis and had stopped at, I believe  the same place we had that morning for breakfast.  There were only a half dozen trucks there, the cafe and a place with pumps to fuel up at.  He had fueled his truck and had pulled off into an area along side of some other trucks where we could park for awhile.
     By now it must have been about ten o'clock, or it may have been even later.  He told me that he had to get some rest before he could go on.  He told me to crawl back up into the bunk and get undressed  for I might as well get some sleep too.  I did as he had told me to, as he followed me into the berth.
     He had slipped out of his shoes and was taking his pants off when I noticed he wasn't wearing
underwear.  I became very nervous.  I was still hurting pretty much from what had happened to me in New Orleans.  Maybe it had been my imagination but a red flag had gone up.  He had been nice to me.  He had bought me food and was going to give me a ride all the way to Illinois.  I was feeling too obligated to him and feared what his intentions were.
     I didn't quite have my shoes off yet when I told him I had to use the rest room.  Putting my shoes back on I climbed out of the truck and headed towards the restaurant, which I didn't stop at but  kept on walking until I found an all right gas station where I stayed for the rest of the night.
     From there it took me two more days to get back to Rock Island.  I stayed with my mother and her husband for the first couple of weeks and then got my own apartment again.  Once alone in my apartment I again started having problems.
     I was twenty-one years old now and I realized I could now drive taxi cabs.  That seemed like the life to me.  I liked to drive and they drove all day.  This had required I have a driver's license which I didn't have.  Getting the license was also somewhat of a problem for I didn't have any identification, not even a birth certificate.  But with the help of my mother and new stepfather (who eventually was to become my closest friend.  The person I was to later say, was the greatest person I ever met) I had been able to prove who I was and how old I was.
     There were two cab companies in Rock Island and a couple in Moline, an adjoining city to Rock Island.  Over the next year I managed to work at all of them.  By April, about three months after I had left New Orleans, I had worked in both of the Rock Island cab companies and was working at the Yellow Cab Co. in Moline.

Rock Island, Illinois
Larry Eugene 21 with Aunt Loueise

     The last night I had worked at one of the cab companies in Rock Island, a man had tried to sexually assault me, by the use of a knife.  I had been able to radio the cab company transmitting "Code 99."  (Driver in danger.)  The cab company knowing my approximate destination, somewhere south of town out in the country, had alerted police and a road block had been set up ahead of us.  I think that night the police saved my life.  I was never to drive or work anywhere in Rock Island again.
     Working in Moline, I had moved from Rock Island and found me an apartment about seven or eight blocks from where I worked.  As usual at work I was doing fairly well.  I would talk with people, even joke and laugh with them.  To all outward appearances I was living a well adjusted life.  I had become very good about covering up my real feelings when I was around other people.  When I was home though, alone in my apartment, it was an entirely different matter.
     When I was at work I don't think anyone noticed anymore difference in me than they had anyone else.  But when I was home alone I felt very uncomfortable, unsettled, depressed and many times I would cry for long periods of time.  It seems all I did was walk from room to room crying.  Even when I was laying on my bed or taking a bath, I was crying.  I guess someone has called it hysteria, I guess it was, in the worst way.
     I now realize, at that period of my life, I was very emotionally sick.  I was extremely unhappy.  My crying spells never seemed to end.  I would have been much happier if I had been in an institution.  The way it was, there was no one there to tell me what to do.  I needed someone to put guidance in my life, if nothing else, for someone to just be there with me for I would pull out of those depressing moods whenever someone was around me.
     It had been a very painful and emotional time in my life.  Inside of me, my emotional system was violently shaking.  Suicide never entered  my mind but now as I look back on that period of my life I can see how close to it I really was.  All that was missing was the thought for then I would have taken my own life.
     At the cab company there was a driver who worked the night shift with me.  They called him, "Ma Brown."  For some time I never realized why they had called him that.  He was in his early to mid fifties, a little shorter than I was.  He was a very easy going person and we got along well.
     One morning after work Brown invited me to his place for breakfast and I had accepted his  invitation.  As he was cooking breakfast I had sat at the table talking with him.  I don't remember what it had been we were talking about but it hadn't been much of anything, probably about work.
     After we had eaten, even though I only lived four or five blocks from him, he had suggested I stay there and sleep then when we got up we could eat and go to work together.  I was glad for his company for I felt a lot better being around someone than I did alone so I had agreed to stay.
     He only had one bed so that meant we would have to sleep together.  Which really didn't give me any concern.  At that time I really didn't like to sleep in the same bed with someone else but I felt that was a price I would have to pay for his company.
     Taking all of my clothes off except for my T-shirt and briefs I crawled into bed.  Going to the far side of the bed I laid on my left side putting my back towards the middle of the bed.  I had undressed and was covered up before he had gotten all of his clothes off.
     He had crawled into bed behind me and put his stomach next to my back and put his arm over my side.  It had been a little uncomfortable with his arm wrapped around me so his hand was under my waist but I didn't say anything.
     I soon noticed he was pushing against my buttocks with his body in a rhythmical fashion.  Maybe I was naive from the start (Especially after all of the things I had been through.) but now I started to realize what it was he wanted, why he wanted me to stay with him.
     I don't remember us saying anything as he went further and further.  I try and remember how I was feeling at that time but it is very hard for me to describe.  It is even harder for me to explain why I let him do what he did to me.
     I had been very submissive, I didn't resist him in any way.  How did I feel?  It is very hard to describe.  I didn't feel alone, I didn't feel the need to cry.  I felt someone cared about me.  It is impossible for me to describe the desperation I was feeling during  that period of my life.  I was so desperately in need of someone in my life I was willing to give my body to a man to attain that goal.
     When we woke up we got dressed, ate and went to work.  I never went to his house again and as strange as it may sound, I had very little to do with Brown after that.
     Was I close to suicide?  Only a thought away.
     About two months after my twenty-second birthday, I met an angel who was to become my wife.  The best thing that was to happen to me in all of the years of my life.
     I wish this could have been a fairy tale and say I lived happily ever after but it didn't work out that way.  There was a problem, a problem which was buried deep within me.  Today I sit in that fabled lonely hotel room, after twenty-three years of marriage, seventeen  years since my wife divorced me, (For good cause I might add.) thinking, thinking of those days long ago and what effect it had on me and those I loved.  Yes and shed a few tears too.

Today is not the end, only the beginning of the end.

A TIME TO THINK
AND A
TIME TO TRY AND
UNDERSTAND

     If you read the introduction at the beginning of this book you will understand when I say, "I hope you found your journey interesting and  unforgettable."  I wish I could say, "exciting and enjoyable."  But I am sure you will understand when I say I have never found any of my journeys so.
     I brought some mementos back with me from many of my previous trips.  A copy of the photograph of my mother I had lost many years ago at the orphanage, the Bible my mother gave me for Christmas when I was eleven years old.  Several photographs which appeared in this  book.  The red and black scarf I had knitted for my mother when I was thirteen.  The Bible and the scarf of course you won't be able to see but there are many items I have collected along the way you will find in other sectrions of this book.  The newspaper articles, my "State Records" letters and all.  Then there is the commentary which this chapter links to.
     I hope if there are any questions, which I am sure there are many, you will find the answers among all of the data you are yet to read. (Links at the bottom of the page.)  Read, think, pause and try to understand what went wrong.  Was that boy wrong?  Was he a "Bad Boy?"  If so when and why did he go wrong?  I am still searching for the answers.  Please go on and read my commentary, and see how those childhood years all but destroyed my life.

Larry Eugene
The Orphan Boy

RAINBOW

    PLEASE, if you have not stopped by my guest book, I, and I am sure others would appreciate it if you would and leave your thoughts on what you have read, you don't have to leave your name or address if you so choose not to.    If you wish you can E-mail me, though I would rather you use my guest book so others may see and possibly be of some help, that another child's life may be saved and not have to live the life of The Orphan Boy.  My computer is on line 24 hours a day.    It would be nice to know when someone has read to this point in my book.  So I would know that all the work and the pain to produce these pages has not been in vain.

To the entrance of the Geocities
GUEST BOOK
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When completed return to Earthlink Index, and thus to the Commentary.

RAINBOW
I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry
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