Being from a large family, the ranch home we owned out on Long Island, just wasn't big enough for us, so we had a full dormer added on, making the house a high ranch. To save money, the new dormer was shingled and came with a new roof, but the rooms had to be sectioned off and finished inside. I was maybe 16 years old and really didn't mind helping insulate and to put up the sheetrock.
Only thing is that Dad had no patience. You had to do the job right and be quick at it as well.
One day I was up on the step ladder hammering in evenly spaced sheet rock nails to hold up a ceiling panel, making sure each nail was dimpled in, when Dad yelled "Go get me that there thing"! Still up on the ladder, I said 'I don't know what you want'. He ran at me from the other room, shook the step ladder and I jumped down. With his usual gruff menacing voice he said "YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT"! I said 'I don't know what you want' and he once again said "YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT"!! "YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT"!!
I once again started to say I don't know and he began to hit me hard, with his fist. He was a muscular brute of a man and there was no way I could fight back. So, gasping for breath, wanting to howl and not being able to, I started to sputter out some deep down guttural gasps, when... he grabbed my shirt and in a low voice he spat through his gritted teeth "SHUT UP OR I'LL SKIN YOU ALIVE YOU LITTLE FUCK" "YOU HAVEN'T HEARD THE LAST OF THIS".
It's not like I hadn't heard these words before, but this time he seemed even more menacing than in his past performances. I had to shut myself down and pretend nothing was wrong, but if anyone cared to look I'm sure they'd see the pain on my face and in my eyes, especially in my eyes. They don't call it "blue-eyed soul" for nothin'. tmp
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