A Man Named Dave (33 page)

I clamped my eyes shut. The pressure inside of me was too much for me to hold in any longer. “You!” I fired back. “I’m scared to death of you! I can’t, I can’t even look at you! I can’t do it. I mean, you’re too good, too good for me.” Marsha sat back in her chair, dumbstruck. “For God’s sake, look at you. You’re perfect, a china doll. You’re drop-dead gorgeous! You don’t lie, cheat, or steal. You have no vices. You don’t have a mean streak in your body. You believe in God and in doing your best. You’re educated, you don’t complain or blame others if things don’t turn out. You have no baggage from your past, no skeletons in your closet. Come on. I’m waiting for you to peel off your mask … You’re just too perfect. I know who I am and where I belong. You’re way too good for me. I’m sorry, but I don’t … I don’t deserve to be with you.”

“Don’t say that!” Marsha pleaded. “All your life you’ve carried this guilt. Don’t you understand? It’s not your fault! You’re not to blame. I’m an adult. I can take it. I know everything, everything about you, and I’m still here.”

Turning away, I raised my voice at Marsha for the first time. “Don’t you get it? My grandmother hates me, my mother tried to kill me. I drove Patsy to the brink … If you get too close … I’ll somehow screw things up for you, too.” With my chest beginning to heave, I murmured, “I’d rather stop before things get too serious and keep you as a friend. I’m just trying to save what we have. You mean that much to me. You’re too important for me to lose. You deserve to be happy, and if you become involved with me –”

“It’s too late. I’m already involved. I know what I’m getting into. I’ve been around the block; I’ve dated plenty of creeps. I’ve never met anyone out there like you. Don’t you see how precious you are to me?”

I shook my head.

“And what about you. Dave? What do
you
deserve?” Marsha asked me. “My God, all your life you’ve worked your butt off, been taken advantage of; you’ve gotten truckloads of manure thrown at you and you get up, wipe yourself off, and carry on as if nothing happened. You never quit! What about you? You deserve to live a better life. I’ve never seen anybody work as hard as you. Look at how you sacrifice everything for your son. I’ve never seen any parent smother his child with as much love as you do. Okay, you had a bad marriage; but it takes two,
two
people to ruin something. You were not the only one responsible for the divorce. Maybe you couldn’t love her because she broke your trust. I’m not even going to tell you what I think about her! You’ve been more honorable, forgiving, and self-blaming than you should have. You’re the most broken person I know. What about Dave? When is Dave going to be happy? You deserve, Dave,
you
deserve to be happy. When is it going to be time for Dave?”

I continued to shake my head. “Some mistakes … can never be paid for.”

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Marsha asked. “You can’t stop thinking about her, can you?”

I nodded in agreement. “Every day,” I began, “I try, I really do, but it’s like something pulls me back and I can’t break free – no matter what I do or how hard I try. Sometimes when I’m out there speaking, explaining what happened between Mother and me, it’s like I’m searching, crawling for a fragment of something I could have done, anything to change all that … besides Stephen. It’s like, it’s one of the reasons why I’m out there. If I could just find –”

“No!” Marsha broke in. “You’ve got to let her go, it wasn’t your fault that –”

“No. I could have –”

“My God!” Marsha now yelled. “Your mother was nuts! There’s nothing you could have done to stop her!”

With my heart continuing to race, I frantically shook my head. “You’re wrong. I could have …”

“Could have done what?” Marsha countered.

“Please,” I begged, “don’t push it. I really don’t want to go there.”

“No! We’re going to confront it!” Marsha demanded. “All you do is give. You’d slit your wrists if you thought it would help someone. Just take a moment and help yourself. I’m here. I’m here for you, honey. There was nothing you could have done.” Marsha leaned closer, to hold me, but before her fingers could touch my shoulders, I pulled away.

“You don’t know, you weren’t there. I could have done something! That’s the worst part of it all. I never said no. I never stood up for myself. Don’t you get it? I could have stopped it. I let it go too far. The day she – she stabbed me, I just stood there, like I was begging for it. My brothers would have never let anything like that happen to them, I could tell by the look in their eyes. But I did. I always did. I swallowed ammonia in front of my dad. When I cleaned the bathroom with that mixture of ammonia and Chlorox my throat was on fire, and all I had to do was dump that stuff down the toilet. I even ate the dog shit when she was in the other room. All I had to do was throw it down the disposal and she’d never know, but I did it, I did everything she wanted. I never stood up for myself. All I had to do was stop her, just one time. Maybe once and that could have changed everything.” A stream of tears began to spatter the wooden deck. “I could have stopped her. I never … never said no.”

Marsha began to cry as well. As I covered my face to hide my shame, a wave of anxiety made me slip from my chair and fall forward to the deck. I stayed on my knees as my body shook. “Everyone thinks I’m – I’m so damn courageous for telling my pathetic little tale. Part of me feels like a whore. The truth is, if I’m so brave, why didn’t I have the guts to stop her? I could have left. I had hundreds of chances.” In my mind I envisioned Mother parking her gray station wagon at the local Serramonte Mall. “Whenever she went shopping, when she kept me in the car, my hand would wrap around that door handle … sometimes my grip was so tight my entire arm would vibrate. All I had to do was turn the handle, open the door, and walk, just walk away. I could have ended it. It would have all been over. I could have stopped it.” With my eyes clamped shut, I shook my head from side to side, so much so that I could feel myself beginning to pass out.

“Dave,” Marsha cut in, “when you were with Patsy, did you work on your marriage?”

Stopping to look up at her, I shook my head. “Now that I’ve had time to think about it, it was Patsy who really put forth the effort –”

“No!” Marsha boomed, “it’s not just your fault. So, I’m asking: when you were married, did you give it your best?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” I stopped to collect myself. “Sure, I guess so.”

“As a writer, how long did you say it takes you to construct a paragraph?”

“Anywhere from four to maybe six hours. Why?” I asked, feeling intimidated.

Marsha dug further. “Now, don’t think, just answer: Why does it take you so long?”

“Because I can’t type, I have no mechanics, because I’m stupid? What are you getting at?”

“No,” Marsha calmly interjected. “Shh, slow down. Tell me, just open up and tell me. Dave. Why?”

I could feel myself about to erupt. “Because… I want to do my best, my best in everything I am and do! That’s why!” I shouted.

“As a father, a husband when you were married … ?”

“I did my best!” I fired back.

“Flying for the air force, your volunteer work, the way you stack your firewood, fold your shirts, arrange your table when you barbecue dinner … ?”

“I try. I try and give everything my all. Stop it!” I begged. “Just let it go.”

“Everything?” Marsha asked in a hushed tone. “You’ve always given everything your all?”

I nodded yes.

“As a son, did you give it your best?”

“Damn straight I did! I always did. The chores, trying to impress her with my work at school, praying every day that I wouldn’t piss her off.”

“And you didn’t quit?” Marsha raised her eyebrows.

“No! I never quit!” I stated with conviction. “I never quit.”

“You told me that when you were in foster care and the air force didn’t want you that it took you years of proving to them that you wanted to fly for them … When you were scammed by that man from Lincoln and left with nothing, you walked away … After everything you’ve been through, why in heaven’s name, why do you push yourself? As a child, Dave, you were a child; why did you … ?”

“Because that’s all I had!” I cried. “I got nothing else! It’s all I am! It’s all I’ve ever known. If I quit back then, once, for just a second … it could have been all over. I got nothing else, all my life …”

Falling to the deck, Marsha said, “I know, I know, baby, I know.” Reaching over to cradle my head against her chest, she whispered, “You made that choice. Your mother made hers. It’s not your fault. It wasn’t your doing. She gave up on herself a long, long time ago. She quit – on her son, her family, everything she had,
she
quit. No one could have saved her, least of all her own baby that she treated like an animal. She was a broken woman long before you came into her life. You’ve got to give her up. It’s not your doing. You deserve, Dave, you deserve to be free.”

“I could have –” I protested.

“No!” Marsha shouted. “Tell me, tell yourself, what was the one thing you could have possibly done to prevent her self-destruction?”

“Been a better son? I dunno.” I shook my head. “I just don’t know.”

“You’re a good son now, and you always have been. No matter what happens to us, for your own peace of mind, after all your years of searching, you need to understand, it wasn’t your doing.”

Feeling the pressure beginning to ease, I stammered, “It’s just, I feel my entire – and I mean my
entire
life, since I was a kid – it’s like I saw everything swirling around me, and somehow I allowed things to take over, to take control of me because I never felt I deserved anything but that. My marriage, the firm in Lincoln, I deserve what I got. That’s why I couldn’t tell Patsy or anyone else. That’s why I tried to bury the dirt; that’s why I eat crap every day of my life. I don’t deserve any better.

“I know there’s nothing I could have done to stop her, but that doesn’t help, doesn’t stop it from gnawing at me every day. And because of that I feel so undeserving, especially when it comes to you. You’re too pure.”

I let out a deep breath. “I can’t do it anymore. I’m just tired, tired of swimming against the tide, proving myself … I’m tired.”

“After all you’ve been through, no matter what happens to us, Dave, you deserve everything life has to offer. I’m so proud of you, I could just bust. You’re the most inspirational person I know. You’re my Robin Williams and Jimmy Stewart rolled into one. And I’m not saying that because I’ve got some schoolgirl crush on you. No matter what, you’re precious to me. No matter what, with all my heart, I believe. I believe in you, Dave Pelzer. You’re my best friend. Okay,” Marsha sighed, “I can see where you can drive people crazy, only because you want to do your best. But, Dave, you deserve,
we
deserve to give each other a chance. I’m not going to smother you or trick you into anything. With my hand on the Bible, if I live to be a hundred, if I know one thing: it’s that we deserve – we deserve to be together.”

Wiping away my tears, I locked onto Marsha’s tear-filled eyes. “I’m your best friend?”

“Why do you think I came to see you?” she asked.

Closing my eyes, I shook off my fear of intimacy, and I stripped away my last protective layer. “When I’m with you, Marsha … I feel clean. You ease my shame.”

“And you’re my white knight. Together, back to back, we can do anything, Dave,” Marsha cried. “Can’t you see that all I want is to be with you?”

My insides became unglued. As much as I had tried to drive Marsha away, my heart ached for her to stay. With my anxiety spent and my heart bursting, I wrapped my arms around Marsha’s waist with my head bent in her lap. “I’ll never deserve you. You’re my best friend. I love you. You’re the one, Marsha. The only one … the only one I trust.”

Now, this was completely different. Marsha stood with her back toward my chest, venting about the demands placed on her from the day, while I tried to calm her down by pleading for her not to take work so seriously. I had my reasons to get her mind off work, but whenever I tried to veer Marsha off the subject, it only seemed to intensify her passion.

But that was one of the many things I loved about Marsha: her steadfast commitment. Months after meeting in California, Marsha had given up her job as an editor and moved to Guerneville – not only to be close to me, but to take over and manage my business. Since Marsha knew me like no other, and because of the respect we had for each other, she was the perfect choice. While some scoffed at her decision, thinking that she would play the role of a mere secretary, answering phones and filing paperwork, Marsha faced many demands: arranging continuous media interviews, strategizing every aspect of the strenuous travel logistics, and keeping my calendar packed with engagements. At times when I was away, Marsha slaved twelve to sixteen hours, only to end her day by fighting to keep up with paperwork correspondence, which began as a trickle but soon flooded to the point she was answering thousands of pieces of mail a month from all over the world.

Since our lives were so crazy, we worked hard on our personal relationship. With Marsha I learned to listen and not father her, to offer advice when I thought it was needed. When we’d have a disagreement, we’d talk things through. When we’d have a heated discussion, we’d try our best to resolve the issue, learn from it, and move forward. Throughout every situation, every obstacle we faced together, Marsha remained sincere and dedicated and never broke my trust.

Allowing Marsha into the deepest recesses of my heart and, more important, introducing her to Stephen, was the highest compliment I could give to her. I was learning from my past mistakes and respecting her as a lady. Marsha resided in a cozy cottage near the Russian River across from me. After work we’d curl up on her futon to watch a movie or read well into the late evening, until I left after kissing her good night.

With Marsha I didn’t have to spend my time worrying about when the sky would come crashing down. In business, she protected me in so many ways. She taught me the fine line between helping others and being taken advantage of. There were ways to help others, provide for my own son, and maintain my own self-worth – instead of constantly neglecting and sabotaging myself just to please others.