Nightmares and Daymares

Mom's boyfriend is out of town tonight. So she's here...along with the nephews. She's not feeling well...I told her I suspect she's got a touch of a virus...fevered with chills, headachy. She's sleeping...so are the boys.

I had a nightmare Saturday night...I dreamt I arrived home from my trip and my brother was outside, talking to a ton of policemen. My brother has cerebral palsy...he walks on crutches. Instead of having one of his crutches under his arm, he was leaning on a shotgun! I asked why the police were there and he said someone had broken into the house 13 times while I was gone. I asked if they had taken anything...he said, "No, they just looked around." Weird dream. It was 2:30 am. That's when the Hissy cat started her hissing attacks.

When I got home yesterday, the house was locked up tight. All the shades drawn. My brother was in the computer room. He informed me that from now on we're screening calls. I asked why. Here's the story he told... now mind you, I'm not racial. Nor is he. But we live in the south and there is a big distinction between the linguistics of the races around here.

Every Saturday for the last few weeks or so, a black guy has been calling asking for our mom. John assumed it was a telemarketer or a charity worker. When the guy would ask for mom, John would tell him she wasn't here and hang up. A week and a half ago, I started getting calls in the morning and at night--people asking for my mom. I got tired of telling them she was either at work or not at home. I decided to ask who was calling and find out if they were legit or time wasters. They were charity donation seekers. I told them we gave locally and they have stopped calling. So when this call called Sat, he decided to take a message so he could find out what he was calling about.

John told him mom wasn't home and could he take a message... the guy said, "Yeah, Dawg. Tell her, her bo'friend called."

John knew mom didn't have a black boyfriend and figured it was a dumbass. Not thinking of the possible consequences he said, "What the FUCK ever!" Then hung up.

A minute later the phone rings, he answers it. It's the black guy. He said, "Nigga, don't be disrespecting me. Never hang up on me, bitch. I'll cut your balls off. I know where you live." Then he said our address.

My brother didn't say anything. He silently listened, waiting to see what else the guy had to say, before commenting. But the dude mistook John's silence as having hung up the phone. In the background, John could hear laughter and the guy saying, "Yo, that nigga hung up on me again." Then he hung the phone up. John dialed call return but it didn't give a number.

A few mins later, the phone started ringing again... John didn't answer. Once the ringing stopped he dialed call return and got the 'this number cannot be traced" message. So began John's weekend of phone ringing.

It scared John, though he won't admit it. He called Mom and asked where she kept her gun! I didn't realize we had a gun here. Mom and John (her beau) came over and stayed with John for a while. Until he calmed down. Mom got the gun out though. A 22 calibur...small handgun. She showed John how to use it. Now if I had been home... this would have been handled differently!

My mom's John gave my brother lectures on how to talk to people. I guess he thought John had instigated it. But like John said...the guy insulted his mother by saying he was her boyfriend...and there is no telling what he would have said to Mom. I imagine something totally obscene. John hung up on him...and the guy gets pissed at John!!! That's what gets him the most and the fact he knows our address.

I suspect its some teens that live in the neighborhood. For a while Mom had some wood decoration with her last name and our street address on it. All someone has to do is look for the last name and the address in the phone book and find the number. Since he calls only on Saturdays, I'm assuming its kids hanging out, bored and making prank calls.

In today's world you can't assume, its innocent fun.

Mom's John informed my brother that the handgun was a small one... that a 22 won't do much damage or kill a person. It probably would make them mad enough to kill him. My brother's reply: "If I shoot them 6 times, I'm sure one of the hits will be fatal or disabling."

When I heard all this...I was more concerned about John feeling threatened in his own home than I was about him shooting anyone. But now...

As Mom and I made supper for the boys, Mom whispered, "That guy calling scared John. He was distraught when he called me. I made John come with me to check on him. We stayed until his voice didn't shake anymore. Today he heard someone on the front porch, knocking the porch swing into the side of the house. He heard voices but couldn't get to the window quick enough to see who it was."

I said, "Mom. An adult wouldn't do something like that in broad daylight. I bet its some of the kids in the neighborhood. I'll ask Mr. Rudy to keep an eye out when he's home. (Mr. Rudy lives across the street.)"

I tried to bring the gun into the conversation but Mom wouldn't hear it. She's always had a gun (I didn't know this either) and it stays here. Its not where the boys can get it. If I hadn't found it in the 7 years I've stayed in the house, neither will they.

I'm concerned. Mainly because my brother is scared and people who are scared are more prone to have accidents that people in control.

What to do.. what to fucking do!