(R)
Eye Deployed For The Money
Authored By: Bradley Chapline
Page One
2004
Authored By: Bradley Chapline
Page One
2004
A Reflection By The Author
Many years ago I scrawled a quote that turned out, once refined, to be a perfect description of this story.
"While there were many times in my past years that I exercised poor judgment, I did, however, in this case, have good reason for adopting an illegal plan of action."
>B. Chapline<
Mar 1978
Many years ago I scrawled a quote that turned out, once refined, to be a perfect description of this story.
"While there were many times in my past years that I exercised poor judgment, I did, however, in this case, have good reason for adopting an illegal plan of action."
>B. Chapline<
Mar 1978
It was a warm muggy morning as I awakened in the bedroom of a small row house located in a township called Essex. This was a lower class enclave located just outside the city limits of Baltimore, Maryland. I turned over in bed to look out the opened window. I figured it would be raining. I said, "Good morning", to my bed partner, Dorthy. She was a beautiful brunette who had the eyes of a devilish witch. I got up from bed.
I was right. It was another dreary day with the clouds hovering close to the ground. The steady drizzle smelled akin to acid rain. I hated Baltimore with a passion. I was questioning myself, why do I keep coming back to this place that does nothing more than afford me nightmares?
It was late 1977 and I was now a Marine sergeant stationed at the First Marine Brigade in Kaneohe Bay, Hawaii. I laid back down in bed and I thought, "I really can't wait until my leave is up and I'll be back on my way to Hawaii." I looked at Dorothy lying next to me in her sexy negligee. She made me sick to my stomach. But, the fact was, except going back to my duty station in Hawaii, I wasn't going anywhere, anytime soon.
Dorothy had a ten year old daughter from a previous marriage. The kid's name was Jeannine. We had become very close. Jeannine was a very sweet girl, but was a tortured soul. In the worst way, she needed to know that someone truly loved and cared for her.
Ten years earlier, in my high school days located in a middle-class township of Perry Hall, Maryland, Dorothy had been a classmate of mine. Dorothy didn't pay much mind to the lives of people her own age. She liked older guys.
So, when her boyfriend, Johnny Mize, four years older than Dorothy got her pregnant in her senior year, they decided to get married right after her graduation ceremony. But, the way it turned out, Jeannine was born a short time before Dorothy's graduation.
Johnny and Dorothy became both employed at the Perry Hall bowling lanes. Johnny was a pin boy, and Dorothy worked at the snack bar. Of course, Johnny and Dorothy could neither afford nor qualify to buy a home. But, as usual, Johnny's mom and dad came to his rescue. They both cosigned for Johnny and Dorothy to purchase a low cost terraced home.
So, with Johnny's parents covering most of their bills, Johnny decided to go out and buy a brand new high performance Cutlass Supreme. Johnny loved to burn rubber, and take winding back roads at a high rate of speed. Johnny claimed he knew what he was doing. People who knew Johnny, were concerned because his hot-rodding and racing episodes were when he had his new born baby in the car.
One evening, Dorothy and Johnny were invited to a party. They took baby Jeannine to his parents house to babysit. At the party, both Johnny and Dorothy had become quite drunk. However, Johnny had hid his inebriated state quite well. Within minutes, Dorothy and Johnny were on their way back to their home in Essex.
But, at a stop light, later on that evening, another hot-rodder pulled up next to him in a souped-up Mustang. He was revving his Ford Mustang engine, taunting Johnny to race him down this long stretch of road. Johnny took the bait. The race was on. The Mustang had a comfortable lead over Johnny's Cutlass. Johnny then floored the accelerator. He was gaining ground on the Mustang when suddenly Johnny lost control of his Cutlass. He veered off the road and crashed head-on into a bridge abutment.
When the Baltimore County police arrived on scene, Johnny and Dorothy's new high performance Cutlass was on fire. Oddly enough, Dorothy and Johnny had walked away virtually unscathed. But, their daughter, Jeannine, had been left in the car, still strapped into her car seat.
When the police discovered Jeannine in the burning car, the officers heroically rescued her. Outraged, the police slapped the cuffs on both Johnny and Dorthy. But, Johnny's parents had powerful business and political connections. The following morning, Johnny and Dorothy were free from police custody. No charges of child endangerment were ever filed against them.
Jeannine was left with huge burn scars on the side of her face, and much of her body.
After Dorothy and Johnny had divorced, one day, while she was at work, Jeannine, normally a latch-key kid, arrived home from school. When coming inside, I heard her sobbing. I gently took hold of Jeannine and hugged her. I asked her what had happened. Jeannine told me that, on both the bus and at school the kids made fun of her.
It was at this time that my heart belonged to Jeannine. Dorothy and I had a multitude of fights. I wanted to know when she was going to stop spending money on herself and get Jeannine some type of plastic or corrective surgery that she so desperately needed on her face and body. Dorothy countered that she would never be able to afford those costs. I confronted Johnny's parents, but was told to mind my own business.
I didn't want to just walk completely away and out of Jeannine's life. So, I realized I needed to keep some type of connection with Dorothy.
A week later my leave time was up. It was time for me to report back to my duty station in Hawaii.
On the flight back, I was recalling when I was first transferring to Hawaii. I remembered arriving on a commercial airliner into the Honolulu International airport. When I got off the plane, the greeting was exceptional. Trust me when I say we were not used to this since almost everywhere I went as a Marine, there were massive protests against us from our involvement in the Vietnam war. Several Polynesian girls were doing the hula dance while putting leis over my head. The tropical scenery was beautiful. I was thinking to myself, "Man, this is where I belong."
An old Marine friend of mine, from when I was stationed at Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, was going to meet me at the airport to take me to my new duty station. As I walked in the terminal of the airport I saw my old friend. We warmly greeted each other. It was nice to have a familiar face meet me in this strange land. I started laughing when I saw the car he was going to take me across the island of Oahu in. I said, "What the hell kind of contraption is this?" Staff Sergeant Mark Mandel said to me, "Hey, jerk, you will learn here that no one has their mainland cars shipped here. Besides being stripped and damaged during shipping, your vehicle will be rusted out in no time at all from the salt air." So, the piece of crap that Staff Sergeant Mandel was driving was called an "island car". He said, "Believe me, Chap, this car will be handed down to many more Marines before it will finally be laid to rest." As we started to chug-a-lug across the island heading for the Windward side of Oahu, I was really enjoying the scenery. I thought, "God, what a beautiful place Hawaii is."
I was right. It was another dreary day with the clouds hovering close to the ground. The steady drizzle smelled akin to acid rain. I hated Baltimore with a passion. I was questioning myself, why do I keep coming back to this place that does nothing more than afford me nightmares?
It was late 1977 and I was now a Marine sergeant stationed at the First Marine Brigade in Kaneohe Bay, Hawaii. I laid back down in bed and I thought, "I really can't wait until my leave is up and I'll be back on my way to Hawaii." I looked at Dorothy lying next to me in her sexy negligee. She made me sick to my stomach. But, the fact was, except going back to my duty station in Hawaii, I wasn't going anywhere, anytime soon.
Dorothy had a ten year old daughter from a previous marriage. The kid's name was Jeannine. We had become very close. Jeannine was a very sweet girl, but was a tortured soul. In the worst way, she needed to know that someone truly loved and cared for her.
Ten years earlier, in my high school days located in a middle-class township of Perry Hall, Maryland, Dorothy had been a classmate of mine. Dorothy didn't pay much mind to the lives of people her own age. She liked older guys.
So, when her boyfriend, Johnny Mize, four years older than Dorothy got her pregnant in her senior year, they decided to get married right after her graduation ceremony. But, the way it turned out, Jeannine was born a short time before Dorothy's graduation.
Johnny and Dorothy became both employed at the Perry Hall bowling lanes. Johnny was a pin boy, and Dorothy worked at the snack bar. Of course, Johnny and Dorothy could neither afford nor qualify to buy a home. But, as usual, Johnny's mom and dad came to his rescue. They both cosigned for Johnny and Dorothy to purchase a low cost terraced home.
So, with Johnny's parents covering most of their bills, Johnny decided to go out and buy a brand new high performance Cutlass Supreme. Johnny loved to burn rubber, and take winding back roads at a high rate of speed. Johnny claimed he knew what he was doing. People who knew Johnny, were concerned because his hot-rodding and racing episodes were when he had his new born baby in the car.
One evening, Dorothy and Johnny were invited to a party. They took baby Jeannine to his parents house to babysit. At the party, both Johnny and Dorothy had become quite drunk. However, Johnny had hid his inebriated state quite well. Within minutes, Dorothy and Johnny were on their way back to their home in Essex.
But, at a stop light, later on that evening, another hot-rodder pulled up next to him in a souped-up Mustang. He was revving his Ford Mustang engine, taunting Johnny to race him down this long stretch of road. Johnny took the bait. The race was on. The Mustang had a comfortable lead over Johnny's Cutlass. Johnny then floored the accelerator. He was gaining ground on the Mustang when suddenly Johnny lost control of his Cutlass. He veered off the road and crashed head-on into a bridge abutment.
When the Baltimore County police arrived on scene, Johnny and Dorothy's new high performance Cutlass was on fire. Oddly enough, Dorothy and Johnny had walked away virtually unscathed. But, their daughter, Jeannine, had been left in the car, still strapped into her car seat.
When the police discovered Jeannine in the burning car, the officers heroically rescued her. Outraged, the police slapped the cuffs on both Johnny and Dorthy. But, Johnny's parents had powerful business and political connections. The following morning, Johnny and Dorothy were free from police custody. No charges of child endangerment were ever filed against them.
Jeannine was left with huge burn scars on the side of her face, and much of her body.
After Dorothy and Johnny had divorced, one day, while she was at work, Jeannine, normally a latch-key kid, arrived home from school. When coming inside, I heard her sobbing. I gently took hold of Jeannine and hugged her. I asked her what had happened. Jeannine told me that, on both the bus and at school the kids made fun of her.
It was at this time that my heart belonged to Jeannine. Dorothy and I had a multitude of fights. I wanted to know when she was going to stop spending money on herself and get Jeannine some type of plastic or corrective surgery that she so desperately needed on her face and body. Dorothy countered that she would never be able to afford those costs. I confronted Johnny's parents, but was told to mind my own business.
I didn't want to just walk completely away and out of Jeannine's life. So, I realized I needed to keep some type of connection with Dorothy.
A week later my leave time was up. It was time for me to report back to my duty station in Hawaii.
On the flight back, I was recalling when I was first transferring to Hawaii. I remembered arriving on a commercial airliner into the Honolulu International airport. When I got off the plane, the greeting was exceptional. Trust me when I say we were not used to this since almost everywhere I went as a Marine, there were massive protests against us from our involvement in the Vietnam war. Several Polynesian girls were doing the hula dance while putting leis over my head. The tropical scenery was beautiful. I was thinking to myself, "Man, this is where I belong."
An old Marine friend of mine, from when I was stationed at Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, was going to meet me at the airport to take me to my new duty station. As I walked in the terminal of the airport I saw my old friend. We warmly greeted each other. It was nice to have a familiar face meet me in this strange land. I started laughing when I saw the car he was going to take me across the island of Oahu in. I said, "What the hell kind of contraption is this?" Staff Sergeant Mark Mandel said to me, "Hey, jerk, you will learn here that no one has their mainland cars shipped here. Besides being stripped and damaged during shipping, your vehicle will be rusted out in no time at all from the salt air." So, the piece of crap that Staff Sergeant Mandel was driving was called an "island car". He said, "Believe me, Chap, this car will be handed down to many more Marines before it will finally be laid to rest." As we started to chug-a-lug across the island heading for the Windward side of Oahu, I was really enjoying the scenery. I thought, "God, what a beautiful place Hawaii is."