ntft

Interference

2010-11-17T11:07:00.002-06:00

It was another five weeks of lost time and hopes. When I got home, I found an emotional disaster.
Sabrina was used to having her way with her daddy, and in some ways, she resented my coming home. She'd been the mama these five weeks, and now I was back to undermine her position. I had a hard time reestablishing positions. She couldn't accept no from me. Old junky was home, interfering with her routine. She felt I was an outsider who visited occasionally, and she resented it.
There were more trips to Dr. Asin's office, more shots, dope, and heartaches. Dr. Asin scheduled me for an enucleation.
The eye was useless, but I couldn't accept losing it completely. The day of the surgery came. Dr. Asin said the eye removal might not end the pain.
My hopes pushed me forward. I wanted to see my eyeball before they sent it to the laboratory.
I was so drugged, I couldn't feel any pain, but I wasn't asleep. I heard everything they said in the operating room, and saw the shadows of the scalpels, tweezers and needles coming at me. I didn't care. I felt I wasn't in my body, I was observing the procedure being done on somebody else.
The little oxygen tubes moved away from my nostrils, and I was suffocating. I moved my head and tried to untie myself.
Dr. Asin fussed at me. "How can I work if you keep jerking? I've got scar tissue back here, and it isn't easy to remove. Calm down, it'll be over soon."
The last few minutes of surgery were the longest of my life. Finally, they removed the sterile packing covering my nose and mouth.
"I see why you couldn't breathe. Your oxygen hose moved off your nostrils." He put the eye in gauze and showed it to me.
I was disappointed. I expected it to be much bigger. Thank God, they got me off the torture table. I was doing so well, and was so awake, I was taken directly to my room.
Before the evening ended, I went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. I lifted my bandage to see the wound. I was surprised. There was redness and swelling, but the eyelid was closed. I tried to open it, but couldn't. It was paralyzed. I lowered the bandage and went to bed.

Continue reading

Buttock

2010-10-06T10:01:00.000-05:00

“Let me ask you one more thing, Fanny Mae. Why do Negros ride around with two fluffy, fancy pillows in the rear window of their car?” ”You don’t know, Horace?’ She asked incredulously.

“No, I sure don’t.”

“Those are joy pillows.”

“Joy pillows? Humph! What does that mean?”

“Means they give the men joy, because when they make love in the back seat of the car, he puts it under the woman’s buttock and they can go deeper.”

Mortgage payments

2010-09-26T11:17:00.000-05:00

Frank frowned at the mortgage payments, which were exorbitant in 1976. The payments were around seven hundred dollars, plus utilities and upkeep. We moved a week before closing, so we didn't have to pay another month rent at the apartment.
Frank was a Union Steward for the FPC in Maxwell and went out of town for a union meeting. I couldn't wait one more day. I hired James, the maintenance man at the apartment complex, and rented a big truck equipped with furniture pads. We moved all the furniture in one day.
Jack, the man next door, introduced himself and offered to help. It was thoughtful but I wanted to do it myself.
The lot was bounded by three streets, Highway 143 was in front, old highway 14 was on one side, and the dirt road to the lake was behind the house. Jack was our neighbor. We loved it. Everywhere we looked was open space.
Amazingly we had enough furniture to fill the five-thousand square foot home. Frank came home that evening and we got the bedroom set up. Everything about the house was huge. The eleven-and-one half foot ceiling made me feel like I was walking around a Palladian villa in Italy.

Continue reading

Buick Invicta

2010-09-04T09:21:00.000-05:00

Back home in Montgomery, I found a black, Buick Invicta in our driveway. Frank had run to the store, so I asked my next door neighbor if the car belonged to them.
"No. Look at the note on the steering wheel." She said.
I couldn't believe it!
Welcome home and Happy Birthday mamma.
Dad.

America

2010-09-02T08:59:00.001-05:00

I arrived in America on my birthday, October 28, 1965. I was twenty- five and Frank was thirty-nine.

Frank had a modest, little house waiting for me, which was comfortably furnished and clean. It was in Prattville, Alabama, about ten miles northwest of Montgomery. Frank worked with the Department of Justice. The first few days passed swiftly, but I realized I had old habits to break and new ones to learn.

America was a different world. Everything was bigger, from appliances to people. Everybody liked the same style houses, furniture and clothing. Everything was always done in a rush. Frank took me to some parties where I met friendly people. I was easily impressed with anyone who paid a little attention to me.

See more

New edition

2010-08-31T09:58:00.000-05:00

We announce the republishing of the new edition of "No Tears for Tina".
The first edition published in 1990 by Tina C. Hartley.
Book starts with:
"When I was eleven, I lived in Torre Dei Passeri, a small town in Italy, and my grandmother had my palm read by a gypsy woman. The majestic looking gypsy, with long, black hair had a nervous tic. It caused her head to jerk to the right in sharp jumps reminding me of hiccups."