Breaking Brooklyn (14 page)

Seeing her father get his life together for
the first time, my mother decided it was time for her to do the
same. She started going to the small church groups and bible
studies that Adam would organize. Within weeks she was fully
integrated into his small church.

I had no idea what brought it on, but both my
mother and grandfather were acting differently. I even overheard my
grandfather talking about the steps he was taking to live a sober
life. My mother was talking about Christ and forgiveness. This was
definitely a new experience for me. I was unsure if this was just a
temporary phase they were in or if it was going to
stick.

Grandpa Bob wasn’t hanging out at the Alley
Cat anymore. He was putting in long days at the used car lot and he
was going to his AA meetings every day at lunch. My mother, on the
other hand, was talking a foreign language as far as I was
concerned. I picked up on a few expressions like “Praise the Lord”
from what I had heard Grandma say when she had taken me to her
church.

Grandma Daisy’s church was disciplined,
organized, and everything was perfectly orchestrated. When I went
with her, we stood, sat down, kneeled, stood up again, sang, sat
down again, and waited in line for communion.

As usual, my mother had gone out of her way to
find the most wacko church possible. She couldn’t just find a
normal church. No. My mother found the door to a religion that was
the exact opposite of what I experienced with Grandma Daisy.
Extreme was an understatement! People jumped up and down, waved
their arms in the air, and shouted, “Praise the Lord!”

They yelled out words I wasn’t even sure were
words. Some of them ran up and down the aisles then fell to the
ground, shaking like they were having seizures.

Compared to grandma Daisy’s church, this new
religious experience was quite peculiar. They quoted scripture
every time they made a point then shouted, “Praise the Lord!
Something about the whole thing didn’t seem genuine to
me.

Running around in Broad Ripple, I had met my
share of characters, but this church seemed to be the epicenter of
crazies. The congregation was comprised of former drug users,
hookers, and convicted felons.

My mother started taking me on Sundays. I
would go to Sunday school, which was something else I hadn’t ever
experienced. When I went with my grandma Daisy, I sat with her and
worshipped with the adults. This was a non-traditional church that
was located in a strip mall. The sign above the front door said
“THE NEW CHURCH OF CHRIST” in big black letters. As soon as you
stepped through the glass double doors in front, your attention
fell on a crucifix on the far wall. Underneath it was an old wooden
podium for the minister.

It wasn’t long before my mother had me
attending church on Saturday nights as well. It seemed every time
the church was open, she wanted to be there. Everyone carried
Bibles, quoted scriptures, and talked about salvation. There was an
air of arrogance as they pontificated to one another.

I thought it was all pretty much “out there.”
However, I liked a good adventure and this looked very interesting.
After all, they did play fun games on Saturday nights. Plus,
something felt pleasantly different about my mother and I liked it.
Wonder of wonders, she stopped cussing! She actually began acting a
little bit like a mom.

Unlike at home, the church felt safe. There
were no drunken boyfriends smacking me around or telling me to go
away. On the contrary, I was treated with respect. I was actually
welcomed when I walked in the door.

Despite the churches peculiarity, it was
getting easier and easier for me to accept the situation. Plus,
Adam was a hard guy not to like. He had a gift for saying the
perfect thing at the right time. He even handled the hard questions
with flair.

I remember asking him so many questions. “In
school we were learning about the big bang theory, but in Sunday
school we were learning about Adam and Eve. I’m really confused. I
didn’t know what to believe,” I pointed out to him.

Adam explained that the big bang theory
supposed that two molecules found each other in this vast universe.
When they collided, it caused a reaction that spawned another
reaction. The entire phenomena created what we call the
universe.

He said that it takes a large leap of faith to
believe that two molecules found each other in such a vast open
space rather than to believe God created it all by design. He told
me to imagine two people standing on either end of a football
field, each armed with a BB gun. He challenged me to consider the
odds that they could point those BB guns at an angle that
intersects, and then when they fire, the BBs would actually hit in
midair. That made a lot of sense to me.

Later that week Adam took me to one of the
parishioner’s farms to witness the birth of a colt. I was blown
away! There was no doubt in my mind that God had created the
universe after seeing that.

I understood what Adam was saying. Seeing that
baby colt start walking within an hour of being born was an
overwhelming experience. There was no way that was random. There
had to be something behind all of this.

Adam had the answers I was looking for and I
was starting to like him. He was unlike anyone I had ever met
before. I was starting to look up to him as a role model, something
I’d always been missing in my life.

Although Adam’s church was a little strange,
my mother was treating me very differently. She was actually
showing me some attention. She was actually listening to what I had
to say. For the first time in my life, I had a mother. This change
made me like pretty much everything about the church.

After few months of Sunday school and Bible
studies Adam invited my mother and I to go on a church campout. I
was so excited! I had never been camping before. We were going to
fish, swim, and hike, then at night we would have a campfire and
cook S'mores.

When the time finally came, everyone met in
the church’s parking lot that was adjacent to the Dollar General.
We then loaded up the black and yellow bus that Adam borrowed from
the Boys & Girls Club of Indianapolis.

My mother and I sat together in the first row
of faded green seats. Under her breath she told me all the gossip
about everyone as they climbed on the bus.

“
Diane has been doing real well.
She gets her oldest son back later this month. She’s so excited.
Oh, and there’s Betty, she had a bout with Satan again. Every time
she gets herself together, Satan comes along to take it all away.
We have to remember to pray for her tonight. Okay,
Jack?”

It certainly was weird to hear my mother talk
like that, but she was showing me attention and that’s all that
mattered to me at the time.

It wasn’t long before we arrived. Turkey Run
State Park was only a few hours from Indianapolis and well known
for its beautiful sandstone gorges. Exiting the bus, Adam and a few
of the other males directed the adults to set up their tents. Then
sent the kids to collect wood for the campfire.

After the camp site was all setup, Adam took
me and a few of the other boys fishing. Walking up the river, we
found a nice spot where Adam taught us how to hook a worm and cast
our line. Of course, I had already learned about fishing from Jim.
I didn’t want to ruin the moment so I sat in silence listening to
Adam’s every instruction.

Later that evening, everyone sat around the
campfire while Adam said a prayer. Then we sang Christian camp
songs. I looked around with my mother by my side taking it all in.
This was the happiest moment in my life. For the first time in my
life, I felt like I had a family.

After a long evening by the campfire, people
began drifting off to their tents. My mother and I snuggled deep in
our sleeping bags and talked about how much fun we were having. It
wasn’t long before my eyes grew heavy and started to close. I was
asleep within minutes.

When I awoke a short time later I had an eerie
feeling in my stomach. Looking around the tent I noticed my mother
was not in her sleeping bag. I unzipped the front and looked
outside. It was still night.

In the distance, I could hear voices but
couldn’t make out what they were saying. Following the sounds led
me to Adam’s tent. I hesitated before I unzipped the front of the
tent. When I did I found my mother, bare naked, on top of Adam. I
felt my heart stop, then it started to race.

When Adam saw me, paralyzed in front of them,
he yelled,“Get the hell out of here!”

I was shocked. I couldn’t believe what I had
seen. And my mother! I felt like I was going to throw up. Once
again, she had betrayed my trust. Even worse, I felt lied to by
Adam, a man who professed to adhere to God’s word. Well, God would
not like what I just saw.

Maybe there was something to BBs colliding on
a football field. Every time something good happened to me, it
ended in sadness. I told myself I would never, ever, trust anyone
again.

When I returned to my tent I buried myself in
my sleeping bag, got out my flashlight, and began to read my comic
book. With my eyes wide open I waited for my mother to come back.
She didn’t, nor did I sleep at all that night. I wanted so badly to
be back home with Brooke, to escape to the railroad tracks I loved
so much.

The next morning when my mother returned I
couldn’t look at her. No matter how hard I tried there was no
getting the pictures of what I saw out of my head. It ate me up
inside, making me deeply resent her…

While we were on our camping trip, Grandpa Bob
had tumbled from the wagon of sobriety into the abyss of
alcoholism.

It all started after a long day of working on
the car lot. Morris and my Grandpa Bob came back to our townhouse
just behind the Peaches Record Store. They started talking
politics. Jimmy Carter was president and the Iran hostage crisis
was on the minds of most Americans. Grandpa Bob knew he could work
out a better plan to free the hostages than the
government.

It was the middle of July which meant it was
hot and sticky. The air was so thick it left a musty aftertaste in
your mouth when you swallowed. Morris had a brown paper sack that
contained six Pabst Blue Ribbon beers. He pulled one from the bag.
The moisture from the can left its imprint on Morris’s shirt when
he pulled the can to his chest. My grandfather’s mouth started to
water when he saw this.

As Morris pulled off the top tab on the can my
grandfather heard the familiar “Fizzzzzz” sound. It was music to
his ears. A light mist sprayed from the top of the can as a little
bit of foam slowly erupted from the opening. Morris read the look
on my grandfather’s face.

“
Here, have one,” he said,
reaching into the brown sack.

When my grandfather caught the beer his face
wrinkled up like a Walnut shell.

“
I don’t think this is a good
idea,” he said. “I haven’t had a drink in six months.”

“One beer isn’t going to hurt. You did a hard
day’s work, you deserve it. Just have one and relax,” Morris
explained as he sipped on his beer.

My grandfather cracked open what he had fought
so hard to give up. The familiar taste was a sweet reminder to his
dry, cracked lips. This first beer that “wasn’t going to hurt” was
the start of one of his biggest drinking binges. One that he would
talk about many times in his Alcoholics Anonymous meetings later in
life.

When my mother and I returned from our awkward
bus trip home, we spoke nothing of what happened. We simply grabbed
our things from the bus and headed home. At home we found Grandpa
Bob sitting in the dark with a bottle of whisky in his hand. I
could smell the alcohol on him as soon as we stepped into the
room.

My mother nodded as he looked up at her in
shame. Walking over she grabbed the bottle and took a pull. She
then swallowed loudly as if she was trying to drown out the
thoughts in her mind.

Looking at the two of them sitting in the dark
I knew things were about to get bad.

Cindy

Chapter
Fourteen

“There are those whose primary
ability is to spin wheels of manipulation. It is their second skin,
and without these spinning wheels, they simply do not know how to
function. They are like toys on wheels of manipulation and control.
If you remove one of the wheels, they'll never be able to feel
secure, be whole.” ~ C. Joybell C

Cindy Napier’s Diary

August 21, 1991

It’s been a year since I was with Adam. I’m
now in Fairbanks, thirty days sober. This has been the hardest
thing I have ever done. There is no escaping my past. I’m no longer
able to numb myself with drugs and alcohol. The memories of all the
horrible things I have done are now free to haunt me.

After Jack walked in on me having sex with
Adam I totally fell apart. I was dead inside. I didn’t care about
anything. I was popping pills and drinking every day. Eventually, I
was arrested for child neglect. I was so high I had no idea where
my son was.

This was the moment when I finally recognized
that I need help. I was under court order to commit myself to
Fairbanks, a rehabilitation center, on the east side of
Indianapolis.