Transspiritualassimilation

My appologies to any of you who practice witchcraft... I didn't want realism so I did not research your craft or practices. If that will bother you then try another story. This story, as all my stories, has moments of truth, typically from my life, I am, however, not any of these characters.

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Being suddenly single at 47 wasn't part of my original plan, but here I was, single and alone.

*****

When the kids were little, I would ask them if they wanted to go to the store. Of course, they would say no. Then, when I came home later with an ice cream cone and a new tool. They would all ask if I brought them any.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hold more than one cone and drive... If you wanted ice cream, I guess you should have come."

You'd think they would catch on, but they never seemed to figure it out.

Over the years, as they grew up, I'd ask,

"I have some chores to do, want to come?"

After leaving alone, a few hours later I'd come home, my wife would ask,

"Where have you been?"

"I had some chores, got them done early and went to see the new Star Wars movie, or went fishing, or out to the trap and skeet range."

The kids would always ask,

"Why didn't you tell us?", my answer was always the same,

"I asked if you wanted to come."

*****

My wife thought she was when she had her first affair but had forgotten something.

Maybe a year before, she had trouble with her email but couldn't describe the problem to me.

She asked,

"Can't you just look at my email and see what's wrong?"

"I can't do that after the fact, but if you want, I can set it up, so I get a copy of everyone's emails, and then we can look at them together when the problem comes up."

I guess she forgot that she said;

"Okay, do that."

It became my routine to select and delete all the emails. I never read her, nor the kids' emails, until one caught my eye;

"My Dearest Bill..."

I almost deleted it but skipped over it and deleted the rest as usual. I went back and looked at the title for 10 minutes before opening it and reading it,

"I can't tell you how much I enjoy your touch and our time together last week...blah, blah, blah."

I had already suspected something was off, but then I knew.

For several months after that, I read all their emails. I saved the pictures they shared and any messages that would constitute proof. The state we lived in is a no-fault state and favors the wife in every way, but having evidence of infidelity would give me leverage.

In my business discussion, it was my practice to record essential calls with clients when they involved contract details or complex letters of credit. My phone system allowed me to hit a record button during any conversation, or it could be programmed to record any call that came in or out automatically. After seeing the first email and learning what was going on, I started to document everything.

The things one learns when people don't know you're listening; My wife and her sister had decided the best thing for 'their' mother was to liquidate all her assets, sell her house, and invest her funds, in a joint account, in 'their' names.

After a six-month waiting period, the plan allowed them to declare her penniless and destitute so that she would qualify for a charitable, budget nursing home.

I hated seeing her there, but I had done all I could, which sadly wasn't much. I like to think I was able to comfort her in the end; every night at around 11:00, after my wife and the kids went to bed, I would go to the nursing home, sit beside her, and sing her favorite songs to her and with her, until she fell asleep. She didn't last long in that shit hole. I hated what they had done to her.

I waited to see if my wife would get her head out of her ass and try to redeem herself or rekindle our relationship, but after a little more than a year, I knew it was time:

The kids were grown but hanging around the house, so one morning, with just a carry-on-bag over my shoulder, I said,

"I have some work to take care of out of town. Does anyone want to come?"

They all looked up from breakfast, my daughter asked,

"Where are you going?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes"

"I have few stops to make; it will be fun. You should all come."

They went back to breakfast. You would think the kids would have learned; I left the house alone again.

My first stop was a project for an airline in Salt Lake City. I'm not much of a skier, but Park City was so close and a lovely town, so I went every weekend. Then there were a couple of more projects, one in Oakland, I explored Napa and Sonoma on the weekends, I always wanted to see Big Sur, but didn't get the chance. After Oakland, I did another project in San Diego. There's so much to do in SoCal, and Baja isn't far. I even thought about living down there.

When I finished working, I flew to Tahiti and then Bora Bora. I stayed for a few weeks and stopped in Hawaii on the way back. I love the west side of Oahu. Ko Olina has three dredged lagoons that are great for swimming. Just up the coast, The Four Seasons Resort is pretty much perfect.

After relaxing, I came back to the mainland and did get to spend a couple of months in Big Sur.

Officially it was a business trip, but to be honest, I was spending all the money my wife might have gotten. I was taking a page from her playbook. Just like her mother, I would be penniless when done; or at least that's the way it would look.

Of course, I still paid all the bills at home, funded the "household expense" account, and spoke to the children when they were available.

On one call, my wife got on the phone and finally asked; dripping with attitude,

"Any idea when you'll be home?"

She was stunned when I replied,

"It depends; when will you be finished fucking Bill?"

"I, I... I have no idea what you're talking about."

I continued, "You know, Bill, Billy, the guy you went to school with, who now lives in Philadelphia, and comes to NY on Wednesday and Thursday; every week... the same days you go into town for the 'museums' and shops."

Still silent.

"Nothing to say?"

Finally, she said, "Yes, I'm seeing Bill. We have a meaningful, spiritual relationship. He has shown me that I deserve more from a truly loving relationship."

"I see. Does Bill's wife feel the same way?"

"Ah, ah, ah... That doesn't matter; what matters is that I feel I can't rely on you to give me what I need in my life and have contacted a lawyer to start the divorce process."

"Right, (of course I had heard those conversations) tell Jim (her lawyer), and Bill, you can have everything. Any money in the account, the company, the house, the furniture, and your car; But nothing after that. I'll drop by next week and pick up my things, don't worry; if it can't fit in my car, I'll leave it for you."

I stopped by when I knew she wouldn't be home, took my things, and left.

She called and said,

"After all these years, you could have at least said goodbye."

"Like you did when you left me? Okay, so maybe you didn't physically leave, but you left "us" just the same... Goodbye!" and hung up.

As I said, being suddenly single at 47 wasn't part of my original plan, but here I was, single and alone, looking at a tiny rundown house in a small town in the Florida panhandle.

The realtor said,

"It's only $50,000, a little work, and you'll have a great place with equity in no time."

Using my veteran's benefits, I was able to get a no money down deal on the mortgage and bought the house for its appraised value of $48,800. I rented a small furnished apartment long enough to make the house livable and found a job.

I was working at a local manufacturing company. I started as an inside salesman. As I got comfortable in the job, I realized they had issues in every department. Clients weren't paying on time, if at all. Accounting was still being done manually, so it took them weeks to catch delinquent accounts. Purchasing didn't know anything about inventory control and typically allowed their suppliers to determined what we kept in stock. Quality assurance was undocumented and random at best.

As people at work got to know me and felt more comfortable with me, I started making small suggestions that sometimes turned into showing, and even teaching people in various departments. There might be another option or "simpler" way to get things done. I never said what they were doing was wrong. I just showed them another option; I would say, "it might save you some time," or "this will be easier on your eyes."

After a few months, the company was making a little more money on the same amount of business; they were being paid on time, with positive cash flow. The owner started asking questions; to their credit, everyone I had helped had no problem telling the boss how things had begun to turn around.

I was called into the president's office.

"So you've been changing things up without my permission or approval."

"That's not completely correct sir, I have made a few time-saving suggestions, and your team considered what I said and ran with it. Has it worked out?"

He smiled; he knew I knew.

"I decided to have you checked out; why didn't you tell me you had years of experience in running and advising companies?"

"You were looking for a salesman, and I was looking for a job."

"Well, I'm looking for a VP of Operations; you begin your new job on Monday."

I stood to leave; turning to him, I said,

"Yes, sir, I have some thoughts on what we can do moving forward." Profit tripled over the next two years.

At 50, with a pretty good job, I had started over. I now had time and money to start really fixing up my house. While the inside was livable, it needed a lot of work, but I decided the neighbors would appreciate my landscaping and curb appeal take priority.

I'm not too fond of gardening, so I hired a local company but always ensured the work was what I wanted it to be.

"Whaja doing?"

I turned to see the cutest little girl ever, my next-door neighbor, I think.

"Hi," I got down on one knee, "these folks are helping make the house and garden look better, and it should be easier to take care of too."

"It's about time."

"It sure is; I'm sorry it took me so long."

"Oh, I wasn't talking about you mister, this house has been a mess my whole life."

I had to laugh out loud,

"Your whole life, haha."

We were chatting about the house and garden and her ideas on what she'd like to see when someone called,

"Abigail!, come here."

"Oh, mom, we're brainstorming."

I thought I should say something,

"She is helping and has some great...."

The look I got caused me to stop speaking and quietly say,

"You'd better get going. Thanks for your help."

I wasn't sure what had happened, but it was clear that anything I had to say was not welcomed; it was not just for right then, but from then on.

That didn't stop me from being a friendly and helpful neighbor whenever I could. I wanted to fit in and get to know people, so I generally helped everyone on the block when they needed a hand.

Abigail and I became pals; at first, the lady, I assumed to be her mom, wasn't happy. She was watching and could tell that my friendship with Abby was harmless and I only wanted to keep her safe and comfortable.

I would catch her mom or one of the older ladies who lived in the house, watching as I sprayed sunblock on her, or bug repellant on her legs when we walked into my 'work in progress' front or back yards.

The crew got the yard work and renovations finished in a couple of months.

While I was at work, Abby showed her mom around the yard.

"Look, mom, it's just the way I drew it."

Abby said to her mother as she pointed out different elements in the yard and held up her 'design.' Using crayons on looseleaf paper, Abby had drawn her ideas so I'd know what would make a perfect front and back yard for 'me.'

Her mother laughed out loud when she saw the swing set in my backyard. There was also a custom treehouse, with steps going right down to the property line. There was a gate in the fence at the treehouse steps. It was the only way to get in or out.

A closer look would show a sign on the gate that said: "Abby's Place, STAY OUT."

When I got home from work, I parked my car in the driveway and was heading to my front door;

"You're going to spoil her."

I turned, Abby's mom was standing at the end of the driveway,

"You're going to spoil her," she repeated.

"I needed help; she had some great ideas."

"No, that's an indulgence; we'll talk about that another time. I'm saying you're going to spoil her when it comes to what to expect in a man."

I know I was confused, so I guess she knew I was too, so she continued.

"When she gets older, she's going to want to find a boy, and then a man just like you, and we know that's not going to happen."

I smiled and said,

"There are plenty of guys better than me out there, but if you're saying that I'm setting a high mark, well, thank you, I hope that's true. She's far too good for some average guy."

"She told us all the other day, as soon as she's 18, she's going to marry you."

"Haha, when she's 18, I'll be almost 60, and she won't even look at me. Don't worry, I'm sure it's just a phase, and probably because she hasn't met a lot of men as silly as I am."

I was stunned when she said, "...Or as kind, as caring, as protective, as understanding, as long-suffering, as smart... no you're the only one she will ever know that has all that, as I said, you're spoiling her."

With that, she turned and walked away. Even though it was clear the conversation was over,

I said "Thank you?" quietly.

As days and months turned into years, I eventually met the rest of Abby's family. There was Abby's mom, her grandmother, and two aunts. They were all a bit standoffish at first, but after a while, they realized I had no agenda and was who I seemed to be; a friendly old guy who wanted to be a good neighbor and who also adored their daughter/granddaughter/niece.

While never really that friendly, they put up with, and I think, eventually encouraged my relationship with Abby. I guess they realized that there was no downside. They knew the time Abby spent in 'her' treehouse or the pool (I just had to have one to complete the original plan) were ways for her to be close by, without being 'underfoot,' as her grandmother would say.

As time went on, I became more a part of the community. I coached soccer, softball, and girls volleyball at the local high school; of course, I did it because Abby had asked. Still, I ensured that all the girls got my instruction and attention, but everyone knew who the apple of my eye was.

Abby dated a little in high school, and I encouraged her to make good choices. None of the boyfriends seemed to last.

"They only want one thing, and I'm saving myself for marriage."

"Well, it's good to have standards, but don't limit yourself to only guys brave enough to ask you out. If you want to get to know someone, ask them out."

"Okay, want to go on a date? I'm going to be 18 in a few months; we really should get to know each other better if we're going to be married."

She smiled at our little joke.

"Haha, That's true, but you already know everything there is to know about me, and I know you better than pretty much anyone."

Trying to change the subject, I asked,

"Who's the nicest boy in school?"

"His name is John; he's my coach."

"Ha, I said 'boy in school' not an old man who drops by now and then.

"We both smiled; our silly banter always made us laugh.

Halloween had always been Abby's favorite holiday, not just because it was her birthday; she loved decorating and even dressing up. She always decorated my yard and house, and made sure I had enough candy on hand for the many trick-or-treaters that came by. She never went to the parties; her whole family loved staying home, dressing up, seeing the children's costumes, giving out candy, homemade treats, and a harmless trick or two.

Not this year; this year, she was distracted, Halloween was quickly approaching, so I was more than surprised to learn that Abby was dating Chad. Abby had grown into a beautiful young woman, and while he was one of the best-looking guys in the county, he was also the biggest self-absorbed asshole in town, or maybe anywhere.

It was a well-established fact that he wouldn't hesitate to force himself on a girl and had gotten more than a couple of girls pregnant. One left to "care for a sick aunt," another was so distraught she killed herself. Somehow, his very wealthy family always seemed to help him worm out of any obligation and avoided prosecution.

It broke my heart to see them arm in arm around school or on a date. Any attempt I made to speak to Abby or the family fell on deaf ears. They would turn away; Abby even raised her voice and harshly told me to "mind your own business, I know what I'm doing." I caught a strange look in her eye, almost like an inside joke, while she walked away but didn't understand. I was dumbfounded.

It was Halloween; I felt lost. Abby was turning 18 and would graduate and head off to college in no time. She had gotten a scholarship to state, and Chad's family had pulled some strings to get him in there too.

I knew her family would make the party for Abby extra special this year. For the first time in ten years, I wasn't invited, I know it's silly, but I was heartbroken.

The party died down early, about 11:30; the family liked to be together at midnight and celebrate the moment Abby was born and brought into their lives. I was just about to get ready for bed when there was another knock on my door.

I was just saying maybe a little too loudly, "It's too late for trick or treating" as I opened the door. I was shocked to see Abby's grandmother. She put her finger to her lips and said,

"Shhh, follow me."

We walked to the back of their house, down into the basement, and closed the door. I didn't understand what I was seeing. There were drawings and patterns everywhere. There was a large circle with a star in it and two narrow tables in the center. Chad looked like he was sleeping on one table; they led me to the other. I started to turn to protest when granny blew some dust into my face. I could hear and think, but moving was only possible with assistance.

I was now lying on my back on the second table, when they started. Abby and her family had formed a circle. What began as a chant, in a language I didn't recognize, turned into something more like a song; my head started to spin, then things went black.

At some point, I opened my eyes and realized I was in bed with Abby. We were both dressed; I tried to jump up but was still too groggy.

"Shh, don't try to get up; you're safe, and here with me, shh, sleep a little more."

When I woke again, I was alone. I stretched and realized I felt good, better than I had in a long time. I was well-rested, but it was more than that. I felt strong; my back and hip didn't hurt for the first time in years. I sat up and went into the bathroom.

"AHHH!, HOLY SHIT."

Abby rushed in;

"John, John, it's okay, it's okay."

Abby led me back to the bed,

"Just sit here for a minute, and I'll explain."

I was hyperventilating.

"Explain, you, you, you can't explain this."

I was waving my arms around the pointing to my body, hair, the room, and anything I saw.

"You can't explain this."

Abby took my hand and held it like she had a million times growing up and looked into my eyes.

"Listen, just listen, Chad was an asshole, a couple of years ago, he killed a friend of mine in a hit and run. Everyone saw him, people had video, but he still got off. He raped and got three of my girlfriends pregnant, but then all these 'witnesses' came out of nowhere telling lies about how the girls had told them they wanted to get pregnant and had sex with him after he passed out."