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Betsy. Part Six.

Tyler drove us to the impound lot. It was a very small lot. There were only about five cars behind the gated fence. Betsy stood out like a sore thumb! Dex and I walked into a very small building with an older gentleman sitting behind the desk. Tyler stayed in his car and waited. Dex begun telling the man what happened and so on...the man did not seem to care. All he wanted was to get paid and for us to leave. We walked out to the car. Dex had more money tucked away somewhere in Betsy. We are flabbergasted. The police officers had ripped a part every inch of the vehicle. All of my belongings, in my suitcase, were thrown all over the car. The backseat was ripped apart. The officers had cut the soft cloth seats open and removed the backseat where it was turned over. This was their effort to get into the interior; to access the trunk, to access the drugs that were not present. The officers had taken out all the wires from underneath the pedestal mount to search every nook and cranny of the dash. It shocked the hell out of me. I could not believe it was legal to do this. Dex said, "it is not legal and if it was not such a piece of shit car, I would sue." At this point, we did not know if the car would crank and if extra cash would be found through all the disorder.

After a few minutes, Dex found about sixty dollars tucked away in one of the compartments. It was less than the impound fee. Dex begged the man to let us get the car so we could continue our travel back home. He finally said, "Okay, go ahead and get out of here." Tyler was such a nice guy. He waited on us to make sure the car cranked. Dex offered him ten dollars and he would not receive it. He gave Dex twenty dollars for gas. We needed it. We had no gas money. It was like everything else that we did-we would figure it out along the way. We told Tyler goodbye and thanked him for all he did for us.

{You rarely find people who are givers and not takers. I know he received a mighty blessing from the one above. God calls us to be his hands and feet of this world. To serve others without judgement and to love others without condition. Serving others come in very different forms. It can be a small gesture- a smile, hug, or encouraging word. God has opened my eyes to a new consciousness. A new light of love. Do I always get it right? no. I am not perfect and never will be. But one thing I do know is... I now can open my hands out to help others with fresh perspective, knowledge, empathy, and wisdom. IF IT WERE ME... I would not be able to share such vulnerable, ugly, heart wrenching stories of my past. It is ONLY through God that I am capable of writing my story.}

We were on the road again. Dex said we would arrive in West Virginia by nightfall. I took a deep breath with much reassurance. I rolled down the window, smoked a cigarette, while looking at the mountainside. We were both quiet as we listened to the radio. Dex had to tape the radio back to the torn wires to give it power. Dex had been driving for a while when he stopped by a gas station to ask for directions and for a drink. This is a small-town gas station. We walked in. There was a cute girl at the cash register. Dex speaks to her about directions as I grab a lime Gatorade. I walked up as Dex is tilting is head to the door. Obviously, he wanted me to walk out. I did. Tough times called for tough decisions. He walked out a couple of minutes later. Laughing. "Hopie Dopie, you stole! Who is the thief now!" I laughed. "Shut up, Dex. We are desperate."

Dex continued to drive. We were about two hours away when Dex asked me to drive. He was exhausted. I began driving. An hour later it is dark, and I am having a hard time seeing the road as headlights glared into my eyes. Dex woke up. He looked over at me, and I am right over the steering wheel. He tells me to pull over so he can drive. By this time, we are talking to Janine and Michael on the phone. Dex's First priority-collect his methamphetamine from Michael's house. He needed to get high and sell some of it to pay Michael back. I wanted to get high and get somewhere "safe." I wanted to see my niece and nephew. It had been a couple of years since I had seen them. Janine and Dex had begun fighting before we even arrived.

Dex: I do not want to deal with her fucking drama. She's a bitch. She's high now! I bet she will shut up once she gets my dope. Hope, I am telling you...Janine is not the same girl you know.

Me: I do not want to be around all this crap. Does she smoke meth all the time?

(I had no clue that Janine was in active addiction like she was. I knew she was not a saint and smoked pot.)

Dex: Hell yeah. She gets my dope.

Me: Wow. I thought she was doing good.

Dex: She has turned out to be a cracked-out whore! Fucking that damn retard from Walmart she works with. Hope, he is so fucking ugly. I told him I would beat his ass!

Me: It is all your fault Dex! You made her that way. She was not like this before she married you! You fucked her up!

Dex: Damn I know. She is a straight up gangster now!

Me: I am sure you are exaggerating! I love Janine! I do not care. Hell, look at I have any room to talk about anyone right now.

Dex: Ain't that the fucking truth sister!

We were ten minutes away. Dex started driving like a 'bat out of hell.' I am telling Dex not to kill us right before we get there. He could taste the dope, feel the burn in his nose, see the rocks, and sense the euphoria. I am gradually becoming nervous. Dex proceeds to tell me how Michael's house is being watched by the feds. I am hoping it is one of his exaggerated stories he liked to tell. Were the feds really after them? All I could think about was me getting busted in the dope house. It advertised all over the news. I was in a constant battle. I needed dope. I could not think about all of this. I wanted to get high so I would not care. Dex drives us through a trailer park. We arrive at the house. I did not want to get out of my car, Betsy. But I was scared to stay in the car and did not want to be out of Dex's sight. I knew he would kill someone over me. We walked in. I instantly felt oppression.

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