He always made it an unhappy occasion when he said goodbye to his wife Kate. It wasn’t the parting that made her melancholy, it was the way he said "goodbye, don’t call me, I’ll call you". She had to be told this every time he left the house. He loved to re-enforce his power over her. There was no kiss, no touch – just a glance her way as he drove off. After 21 years together, she was used to his insensitive, obsessive-compulsive, controlling behavior. Others who saw their interactions felt sympathy and pity for her. She only cared about her three kids, the new grand baby and her mother. Her husband had done that to her. He had made her this way. Her mother tried to stop her from marrying him, but she wouldn’t listen.
She was young and thought she was in love. In truth, she just wanted to get out of the house she had lived in since childhood. She wanted to escape the fights and drunkenness. Her poor mother had taken far worse abuse from her father than she was taking from Bob. Physical abuse that is. She guessed that the reason she took all the verbal abuse (and spiritual) from Bob was because it was passed down to her. She was taught to be submissive and meek – or else! Bob didn’t beat her but she knew he wanted to. He criticized how she looked, how she acted (or didn’t), what she said and on and on. She couldn’t do anything right. He had no remorse about any of this. If the kids saw her cry, so what? He would just say "are you going to cry all day?" He moved on quickly and acted like nothing happened.
The three kids, Bob Jr., Linda and Lisa all lived at home. Linda’s baby, Jackie, was also a part of the family now. Her goal was to try to help the kids turn out differently than their dad. With each birth her closest friend always asked "Why are you having kids with that bastard?" "He works hard to give us a good home," she answered. "Where am I going to find a job? Who would hire me? I am only good at taking care of kids and a home. No man would want me and the kids anyway. I’m almost all used up." Her favorite answer was "he wasn’t always like this."
In her heart she knew he was an evil, cold, arrogant and calculating man. He was also an opportunist and wrath was his friend - from his first days in elementary school where he was a "teacher’s pet". He had been a tattle tale and a bully as a child. As an adult, he was disliked (hated even), and used all his spitefulness to turn people against each other. It was always him and his grandiose sense of self importance against the world. He always gave his influential superior’s what they wanted. He squeezed a nickel here or there, cut a job, happily did the dirty work. It didn’t matter who got abused, who lost a job, who got screwed or who lost vacation time. He knew he would look good in the long run because he would make the year "under budget". It was more fun this way. He loved being demanding at home and at work. If the truth was known he treated his family and workers alike: like shit.
Tonight he got away with it one more time. That’s what he thought as he backed his car slowly down the driveway. He told his wife, (the "old woman" as he liked to refer to her) that he was going to the store to pick up a six-pack. He knew he was lying when he told her he was also going to stop by his office to pick up a couple of papers. When she asked "can’t it wait until morning? We have wine and two beers in the fridge." In her mind, she was thinking that some day soon, someone was bound to kick his ass. Odds were that someone at work was going to strike back. He loved to test people to see if they would stand up to him. If they did, he would move against them. He wanted them to fold under his power and control. "No!" He answered. "I’ll pick up a treat for you. I should be back before 9.00. Not that you need any treats with your fat ass." He drove straight to the railroad yard, thinking, "fuck the beer, fuck her and fuck that wop."
The wop was one of his most hated employee’s. He pulled up to the guard shack and told the guard not to tell anyone he was on the property. "No problem Mr. Burtram, I’m waiting for my relief in about ten minutes. I won’t say anything to him. Have a nice night. You and your family have a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!"
"Is that a book on your desk Mr. Hess?"
"Yes sir. I was reading it in the can. It’s a Christmas Carol. I’m getting ready for the grandkids."
"No books on the job. The company pays you good money to watch the gate. I’m going to write you up for this. I don’t care if you read to your grand kids or act out the fucking book. NO READING ON THE JOB. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir Mr. Burtram, it won’t happen again. I’m sorry."
"Sorry doesn’t watch the gate Hess!" Bob said this while wiping a drop of drool from the right side of his mouth.
"Yes sir." Hess said as he pulled the collar of his jacket up around his neck to fight off the cold, blowing snow.
When Bob drove off the guard said "You prick. You fucking, hairless Ebenezer prick. Merry fucking Christmas." He didn’t tell his relief about Bob being on the property. They exchanged holiday greetings and he left to start his weeks’ Christmas vacation. This had been a yearly tradition for Hess for the past 10 years.
Bob took one of the side roads just before the yard office complex. It just started to snow as he parked his car in the old repair track parking lot.
"No one ever comes around here on a Sunday night," he said to himself with a chuckle as he locked the car door. He turned to walk away from his car thinking about the real reason he was there. By now it was snowing hard and the top of his loafers were getting wet. "Damn, she should have told me to put on my fucking boots not my fucking loafers. What a dumb bitch." It was always her fault or the kids. Anyone but him.
He was thinking about budget cuts as he shivered in the cold. Cuts that would make him look good to upper management as he walked through the darkness. Catching one of his employee’s, the excitement of the hunt, the look on his face when Bob caught him fucking off. Bob could hardly wait. He walked faster and forgot about his wet feet. Bob did not like the guy (the wop). In fact, Bob didn’t like anyone who wasn’t one of his ass kissers. The rule was, if you didn’t want any trouble, you better be one of his cronies or be very active in the Union. Either way, Bob would, in the end, get his way or get you. He could disqualify you on a job or in some way make you bid on another job at another office or yard. The office was his little empire. It functioned well enough to keep upper management happy and out of his hair.