The Phone Call

 

“Bettie, this is George...”

That’s how my Dad in Kansas City

must have began the phone conversation

with my Mom in St. Louis in 1962.

Shocked that her divorced husband of

17-years would have the audacity to call

and open up sore wounds again, my Mom

likely worried about my well being

took a deep breath and responded,

“Is Chris all right?”

I’m certain she she didn’t expect Dad

to call her apologizing for being late

again with child support owed her for

my two brothers left at home with her.

No, that S.O.B. wouldn’t have a shred

of decency to do that.

“Well physically, Chris is okay, but

emotionally, that’s what bothers me.

He’s doing poorly in school. He

has no friends, and unless I’m at

home, he spends most of his time alone.

I’d like to bring him back to St. Louis

to live with you and his brothers. I think

he’d be better off with you all back

there. I’m at a loss as to what else to do.”

Knowing my mom, I’m sure her

first response would have been, “Well,

what in hell about my back child support?

You’d better be paying me that? I can’t

be taking care of three growing boys

on my own. At least you owe that to me.”

I know Dad had to commit to that in

order to get me and his problem off his back.

“I’ll take care of it...” Dad would have

promised. “Next Saturday then?”

“All right, but you’d better pay up!”

And so the deal was done. And I had no

say in the matter. So, there I was,

15-years old with nowhere to go, nowhere

to belong.

Looking back on it after some

60-years have passed, I hated that Dad

had taken me back to live with my mom

and brothers. Sure I was depressed,

but I had emotionally formed a bond

with my dad. It was just the two of

us depressed, dealing with the

world together. My mom would

never understand that. To her Dad

was the same S.O.B. she always

knew him to be.

As Dad let me out of the car

in St. Louis that fateful Saturday.

I stood there and tears came to my eyes

as he drove off. What would become

of me now? Life was shit! That

was the first philosophical thought

I remember having. And the ransom

money for me? Dad promised to put

a check in the mail.

Mom and Dad are long gone now,

and as for me? Yes, life went on.

                      -30-

Chris Hanch 1-27-2021