1955 • San Jose ~ He called us Daughter Number One, Daughter Number Two, and Daughter Number Three. Betty figured he called us that because he liked having daughters; Claudia figured it was because he couldn’t remember our names. Mom met Mr. Wonderful in a bar and married him soon after. Following their July 31st Nevada nuptials, we moved from 183 George Street to a real house, an upstairs flat in Willow Glen.
Mom at Singer company picnic, San Jose
Ray ran an auto repair shop on the south end of town. He was short and swarthy with greasy dark hair and grubby black fingernails. He dressed like a gangster dandy and smelled like a mix of cheap cologne and crude oil. I don’t remember him much, other than what he looked like and that he was nice to me. He didn’t get mad at me when he put out the fire when the high dry grass in the backyard ignited from my Fourth of July sparkler, and he bounced me on his knee when we all sat out on the porch, but he drank too much. He loved lying on the couch watching television all weekend as much as he loved beer, boxing, and gambling. While Mom was at work (she was a seamstress sewing logos and names on uniforms for Singer), Ray’s smarmy friend Frank teetered over and hung around the house all day smoking, drinking, and trying to molest Claudia. Mom didn’t believe Claudia, of course, nor did Ray try and stop him.
My step-father may have been a lush, but he cared for my mother and was concerned about her mental state along with the quantity of pills she took. Drinking was one thing, but drugs were another. She began concealing them, even the Bromo-Seltzer. Mom, taking after her father, downed bottles of the stuff. When Ray pulled a blue bottle hidden inside the flour canister, Claudia thought it was funny. When he told her that Mom was addicted to it, that it wasn’t funny, that he was worried about Mom, Claudia snickered, “You can’t get addicted to something like Bromo-Seltzer.”
Gimme a Bromo… It was a mixture of acetaminophen, sodium bicarbonate, and citric acid, an effervescent antacid, and an analgesic compound. A capful of white crystals dissolved into a half a glass of water relieved nervous tension headaches, heartburn, and upset stomachs.
FFFFFFiiiiiggggghhhhhttttt headache three ways, the talking train belted out a loud whistle on the radio and as the train sounded closer and closer it chanted, Bromo-Seltzer, Bromo-Seltzer, Bromo-Seltzer.
Ray may have been right. Just because she didn’t need a prescription to get it didn’t mean it might not have serious side effects, particularly with prolonged use and especially combined with alcohol, and Mom was drinking again.
The side effects listed on the back of the bottle certainly described her ongoing complaints: Continuing headaches; increased blood pressure; mood or mental changes; nervousness or restlessness; pain (severe/sharp) in lower back/side; swelling of face, fingers, ankles, feet, or lower legs; unpleasant taste; unusual bleeding or bruising; unusual tiredness or weakness; weight gain. It didn’t help her liver or kidneys either. Maybe Mom’s problems didn’t stem from drugs or depression. Maybe Mom wasn’t crazy. Maybe she wasn’t sick. Maybe Ray was right; maybe her problems stemmed from too much Bromo-Seltzer.
Ray lived with us for a little over a year. He passed out one day, coming to in a tub full of tepid water. He went crazy after Mom, accusing her of trying to drown him. Buck-naked and dripping wet, he chased her through the house and down the street, brandishing a butcher knife like an Olympic torch-runner, Mom in a full black slip and barefoot, hollering like a banshee and zigzagging down the tree-shaded block keeping a fair piece ahead of him. Claudia (Daughter Number Two) ran after him, waving Mom’s black cast iron skillet skyward, threatening to bash his head in if he didn’t leave Mom alone.
Larry was raised by Betty Crocker. We got Bette Davis. You think your family is normal but you’re not sure, so you keep your mouth shut just in case.
to be continued…
© 2018. Catherine Sevenau.
All rights reserved.
Jette says
Never a dull moment. Thank you for sharing.
Susan Dalberg says
Sounds like at least she was happy for a bit!
Linda Troolin says
Interesting read. It was a wild family life. Thanks for sharing.