An Unwelcome Intrusion

By Bobbie Barton

AN UNWELCOME INTRUSION is the story of Lucy Grumbachs life. She struggles to win her father Hermans love and approval. She worries about her abused mother, Gertrude. Her solace is found during the summers she spends on her grandparents farm. There she meets a young neighbor. Jim Hunter eventually rescues her from her father. The Vietnam conflict takes Jim away. Jims father, Zachary, assumes the role of protector to Lucy and her mother. He is so successful that Lucy convinces herself she need never see her father again. But, when Herman reaches deaths doorstep, Gertrude pleads with her daughter to save her fathers life by donating one of her kidneys to him. Lucys emotions are once again thrown into turmoil.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: May 11, 2006
• ISBN: 9781467099080

Bobbie Barton

Bobbie Barton was born on Long Island, New York during the depression years. She grew up in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn. Her main source of entertainment was a weekly walk to the local library. Her love of reading became a passion for writing at an early age. As is often the case lifes detours postponed her desire to create literature. Love led to marriage and raising a family. During the Korean conflict her husband was stationed in Munich, Germany. She was able to join him there and the couples first child was born on foreign soil. Life proceeded apace and it wasnt until the 1990s she was able to pursue her dream of creating entertaining novels. RANDOM DETOURS is her eighth novel and she intends to continue writing fiction as long as there are readers to enjoy her stories.

Book preview

Chapter One

The earliest recollection I have of my life is the day I got a red balloon. I don’t recall the date. I was probably four years old. That would make it nineteen fifty-two. I rarely got gifts. That’s likely why it stays so clear in my mind. I remember scrambling out of the station wagon as soon as my mother stopped in our driveway. I was eager to run through the piles of dry leaves while the beautiful sphere tugged at the ribbon attached to my wrist. The red and gold hues accumulated in restless piles that stirred even as I rushed to scamper through them. The wind grabbed at my treasure. I held on tightly. The shiny gift was mine. No one was going to get it away from me.

Lucy, my mother called.

I was too busy to answer.

Come on Lucy. We’re running late. Daddy will be mad.

That got my attention. I looked toward the stoop. My mother was struggling with the storm door. The bundles she was juggling were about to topple.

I’m coming Mama.

I was anxious to get to her and help. I knew how angry papa could get if we were late.

My short legs propelled me along as quickly as they could. It wasn’t fast enough. Just as Mama pulled the door open both grocery bags fell. I reached the top step as the sound of glass breaking told me we’d be in big trouble. Trembling took over. Tears came to my eyes. I pushed my way past my mother. In my haste I tripped. My balloon escaped. It floated into the living room. I skittered after it. The floor lamp was directly in my path. It didn’t matter. My precious gift was in danger. I had to reach it. I jumped to snare the ribbon. I missed. The lamp went crashing to the floor. The tinkling noise the breaking globe made actually sounded pleasant. Then came the heavy footsteps. I froze. As the thudding came closer I turned frightened eyes to my mother. I saw her standing frozen.

Gertrude Grumbach didn’t bend to retrieve the groceries. She didn’t move to help me. She held her breath. We hadn’t gotten home from shopping before Herman. Now we’d be punished.

The thumping of Herman’s heavy steps stopped as Gertrude raised her foot to step over the debris left from the accident. His rumbling voice was amplified by the length of the entry hall. What the hell’s going on? Why weren’t you here when I got home?

Gertrude remained silent.

Only my whimpering answered my father.

Shut up, Herman growled.

I tried to stop sobbing.

I watched Mama sink to her knees to retrieve the purchases that were now sopping up the milk as it formed puddles around the bags.

Herman’s large form seemed to fill the hallway.

To me, he appeared like an ogre from a fairy tale. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut trying to erase the sight of him.

I heard my mother whisper, I’m sorry. I dropped the groceries.

Herman moved toward the door. He was flushed. He surveyed the scene. A fine mess. Don’t expect any extra food allowance. Get that cleaned up.

Without opening my eyes, I waited for my father’s anger to turn upon me.

Shoving Gertrude aside, Herman stepped over the fallen items. He roared when he saw the damage I’d done. He growled like a wounded bear. Who’s going to pay for that? Are you, you little brat?

She didn’t mean it. It was an accident. Gertrude spoke so quietly, I didn’t think my father heard.

Accident or no, she’ll be punished. Herman reached down and pulled me up by my arm. His fingers dug into my flesh.

My eyes flew open. Please, Papa, you’re hurting me.

Hurting you, am I? That’s nothing to what I should do to you.

She’s just a baby. It wasn’t her fault. It’s only the balloon.

Still clutching me, Herman swung around and lashed out with his free hand. His blow to Gertrude’s head sent her down into the spilled milk and shattered glass.

A baby, are you? Not one I asked for. For all I know, you’re probably not even mine.

Gertrude’s sobs joined mine.

Shut up, the both of you.

Just then, Herman spotted the balloon. It hung suspended in front of him. Aha. There’s the real culprit. What should I do with it, Lucy?

My eyes darted to my mother. Please, I begged.

Gertrude forgot the pain from the cuts she’d suffered. Let her have the balloon. She has so few toys.

So, not only is she a bastard. She’s also neglected.

Herman threw me onto the couch like a rag doll. He reached for the balloon. He held it up to my face. He leered, as he pinched it until it burst.

I jumped. I was too stunned to cry.

Gertrude hung her head.

So much for that toy, Herman said.

The destructive act seemed to have calmed him. Maybe we should sell the rest of your toys to pay for the lamp.

No one responded.

We’ll think about it, he said. You, Lucy, can think about it in your closet.

My body went limp. I knew there was no use resisting. Silent tears flowed as I accepted defeat.

Herman reached for my ponytail. He yanked me off the couch and shoved me ahead of him to my room. Over his shoulder he said, You get that mess cleaned up and get me my supper. There’ll be no meals for you two.

L H L H L H L H L

Gertrude yearned to comfort Lucy. Instead she concentrated on salvaging the groceries. The need for haste was clear. The mishap gave Herman an excuse to be abusive. Maybe I can avert punishment if I get this mess cleaned away and have supper ready quickly, she thought. Her fingers shook uncontrollably. Spots of congealed blood decorated her palms. She ignored the little stabs of pain behind her eyes. He shouldn’t have hit me so hard. He forgets how strong he is.

She soon had all of the canned goods in one bag. She picked up the bundle. It was heavy. The pressure against her palms caused more pain. She hurried to deposit the burden on the kitchen counter. She turned and leaned heavily on the edge of the sink. She felt faint. She reached blindly to turn the faucet. The cold water sluicing over her damaged hands stung. It ended the light-headedness.

She patted her hands dry. Before she moved to the broom closet, she checked the roast she’d put into the oven earlier in the day. It smelled delicious. It would be ready soon. Maybe it will soothe him, she hoped.

As she ran water into the cleaning bucket, she prayed the sound wouldn’t disturb Herman. He must have gone to his study, she mused. If I can just mop up the mess and get supper on the table, everything will be fine, she told herself.

L H L H L H L H L

Herman sat at his drafting board in his study. He heard Gertrude scurrying about. Clumsy woman, he mumbled. Child’s just like her.

He tried to study the blueprint before him. He’d been on the brink of solving a tough problem when the commotion started. He had only one more week before the final plans for the new mall were due. He tapped the eraser end of the pencil on the drawing. He tried to pick up the thought that had been just out of reach a short time earlier. It was useless. If that stupid woman would just stop making a racket, maybe I could work.

He threw the pencil at the plan with such force, it bounced back at him. It hit just below his left eye. His hand flew to his face. Sonofabitch, he grumbled. He slumped forward, resting his head in his hands. The stinging subsided. He remained still. Lucy’s dry sobs reached into his consciousness. That’s another thing, he thought. I never wanted a kid. Don’t even know if I wanted a wife. A good lay now and again would’ve been sufficient. No, I had to do the right thing. What a mistake that was.

He shook his head without removing his elbows from the table. That kid could be anyone’s. Just because she says it’s mine doesn’t make it so. She was such a hot lay. Probably had lots of practice. Should’ve satisfied myself with a pro. Then I wouldn’t be in this mess. Stuck with a dumb wife, and a dumber kid.

L H L H L H L H L

Once Gertrude set the table for Herman, she thought about Lucy again. Poor child didn’t do anything wrong. Should I beg him to let her have some supper, she wondered. Even the thought had her wringing her hands. That hurt her wounded palms. Better not. Just let him eat and get back to his work. She checked the solitary place setting one more time. She detoured through the living room and hall on her way to the study. Everything looked fine, except for the naked, lifeless floor lamp.

She approached the study door slowly. Her head began to ache. Her timid knock went unanswered. She swallowed down the excess saliva that kept filling her mouth. Herman, she called softly. Dinner’s ready.

No answer. If he fell asleep, his dinner will get cold. I’ll have to suffer for that. Her eyes darted from the doorknob to the ceiling. What should I do? If I wake him, he’ll be angry. If supper’s cold, he’ll be furious. Her hand reached for the knob.

It moved. She jumped. The door opened.

Herman walked out, shoving Gertrude aside. He strode to the dining room without a word. He was seated at the table when Gertrude approached to fill his beer glass.

She did the chore silently and retreated to the kitchen to await his next order.

Are you going to stand gaping at me, he asked.

No. She bowed her head.

You disgust me. Go to bed.

L H L H L H L H L

I didn’t hear much of what went on just after I was imprisoned in my dark closet. My own sobbing blotted out all sound as efficiently as the lightless space extinguished my sight. I tried to muffle my crying by stuffing the hem of my dress into my mouth. I knew Papa would come back to beat me if he heard me. I calmed down enough to hear Papa send Mama to her room. By that time, my eyes had adjusted to the darkness. I could peek through the slotted door into my bedroom. Once I was able to make out some of my favorite toys, I was able to stop the flow of tears.

I listened as Mama passed my door on the way to her room. Her shadow robbed me of the comfort seeing my belongings had given. She stood at the threshold of my room for a moment. Even as I wished she’d come and tuck me in, I understood that couldn’t happen. Papa had ordered her to bed. She had to obey. When she moved on, I fixed my gaze on a stuffed bear. I was especially fond of that possession. I lowered my clenched fists and used my tongue to push the soggy edge of my dress out of my mouth. I opened my fingers and pressed my palms against the closet door. That was as close as I’d get to touching my bear. I fell asleep with my forehead resting against the slats.

L H L H L H L H L

It seems every memory I think of begins pleasurably. I must’ve been six years old. I was in first grade. Mrs. Cooper called me to the front of the class. I worried she might have some reprimand though I couldn’t imagine what it could be. I tried to keep from wriggling as all eyes rested on me. I felt the warmth rising from my neck to my cheeks.

Mrs. Cooper walked toward me. She held out the key to the nature room. I realized she was about to appoint me monitor to that wonderful place. That’s where rabbits and fish and frogs were housed. That was my very favorite room in the entire school. I forgot my shyness. I reached forward before she started speaking. The brilliance of her smile was directed at me. I thought my heart would burst.

Class, she said, Lucy will take charge of our nature room for the first month of this term.

I watched my teacher urge the class to applaud my appointment. I didn’t even mind the sneers exchanged by the girls who excluded me from their group. I held my hand out to receive the cherished key on its wooden holder.

Mrs. Cooper continued speaking. We’ll rotate this responsibility. Each student who achieves above average for the month will get a turn to take care of our plants and pets.

At last, the key found its way to my hand. I ignored my trembling and whispered, Thank you.

You’re very welcome. I’ll give you instructions at recess.

With feet that didn’t seem to be touching the floor, I went back to my desk. I wanted the security of being in my familiar seat while I digested the enormity of the responsibility that was mine. My friends beamed at me. I took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on the lesson Mrs. Cooper was beginning for the day.

That night, at supper, I surprised myself. I initiated a conversation. I’m nature room monitor.

Mama held her fork, full of food, in mid air. She turned to Papa. Noting he was calmly chewing his mouthful of food, she said, How nice.

Papa swallowed, took a sip of beer, wiped his mouth on his napkin and said, What does that mean?

I couldn’t believe he was interested. I rested my fork on my plate. I’ll take care of all the animals and plants for our class.

What’s so nice about that? Seems like extra work to me.

I don’t mind. I get to pet the bunnies every day.

Pet the bunnies. Knowing you, they’ll probably escape.

Mama sent a sympathetic glance my way.

If you had any brains, you’d have told that kike teacher to let one of the niggers clean up the shit. Court ruled they can go to the same schools as pure-bred Americans. Let them do the work they’re suited for. Just goes to show, I’m raising an idiot. You can’t possibly be any kin of mine. Papa went back to his meal. That was the cue, he’d had enough of the subject.

I returned my attention to my dinner.

L H L H L H L H L

It wasn’t even a week before I ruined the pleasure of my assignment. The tasks to be performed were simple. Water the plants. Feed the animals. Clean out the tanks and cages. Nothing could’ve been easier. Even so, I managed to mess things up.

I loved holding the baby bunnies. I couldn’t resist taking the extra time. But that didn’t cause the problem. The trouble happened when I was watering the trays of seedlings. I was being especially careful. Mrs. Cooper had warned me not to drown them. The watering pail was very large. I had to reach over the table to get to the back trays. I didn’t see the stack of clay pots on the back corner. As I balanced the heavy container, I bumped the pots. They went plummeting to the floor. The sound, as they hit, seemed deafening.

I froze. The water continued to rain on the trays. I expected to see the entire class come running into the room. By the time I realized no one was aware of what I’d done, the seed tray I was tending was awash. I pulled the watering can away. Hot tears began to sting.

I looked around. There was a broom resting in a corner. I ran to get it and swept the debris from the pots under the bottom shelf of the plant table. It was hard to see through my tears. I hoped I’d hidden all evidence of my crime. There was nothing I could do to save the seedlings. I waited until recess was over to return to the classroom.

For the rest of the month, as nature room monitor, I was in a panic. I was certain someone would find out what I’d done. Then, what would happen? The precious key would be taken from me. I’d be shamed in front of everyone. Worse. My parents would be told. Papa would have to pay for the pots. He’d punish me.

L H L H L H L H L

The best memories are of the summers. For as long as I can remember, I spent them with Nana and Opah Grumbach. They lived on a farm in upstate New York. Mama loved those times, too. She had Nana to talk with. She didn’t seem lonely or frightened. Papa only came to the farm at the end of the summer. Until he arrived, life was serene.

There were always chores that needed doing. But, there was time set aside for fun. My tasks were simple. I dusted the furniture. I dried the dishes. As I grew, I made the beds each day and gathered vegetables from the garden. None of the work seemed hard. I was content to be in a household where relaxation followed toil.

On the hottest days, we all piled into the truck and rode to the creek. I learned to swim. I’ll never forget that day. I guess I was seven. Mama and Nana were setting out the picnic supper. I was inching closer and closer to the water. I knew I wasn’t allowed to go in without an adult. Opah was already swimming. When he got to the middle, he turned on his back and floated.

Opah, I called. Come and get me.

He grinned and waved.

Please, I shouted.

You come and get me, he yelled.

Could I? Should I? I looked back to where Mama and Nana were. They were busy. I looked out to Opah. He was beckoning. I stepped into the cold water. The initial shock halted me. As I grew accustomed to the water, I noticed that Opah was floating toward me. I figured, if I started walking to him, we’d meet. It seemed like a good plan. To my dismay, the creek rose to my chin long before I got to Opah.

C’mon Lucy.

I can’t swim.

Says who?

I pondered that. If Opah thought I could swim, I probably could. I stretched one arm out and let my feet leave the bottom. I seemed to be held aloft. I made the movements I’d seen Opah do. He was right. I could swim. I wished summer could last forever.

L H L H L H L H L

The first thing I told Papa when he drove up the driveway in late August was, I know how to swim.

He snorted. A great accomplishment. You’ll make lots of money with that talent.

I fell silent. I wondered why