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About Street roots. (Portland, OR) 1998-current | View Entire Issue (May 25, 2012)
street roots 9 May 25, 2012 ABUSE, from page 8 throughout downtown, Richard sure to keep Brandy by his side. During the day the pair visited drop-in centers; during the evening ends meet, Richard smashed car windows the couple searched out warm, dry spaces. and stole cigarettes and change. He Part of what vexed them was the inability to convinced Brandy to panhandle. She hated it. stay together as a couple, since shelters Together, they pooled their resources and separated men and women. Then someone injected meth, riding the rush, pulled by suggested Tent City 3. addiction. A legally-sanctioned homeless encampment Like any couple that spends time together, for up to 100 people, it shifted locations the pair forged a bond of intimacy. Richard every few months. In January 2009, Tent City told Brandy he wanted to leave his white 3 was in Shoreline. The pair hopped on the supremacist past behind, even as he carried a 358 bus and rode north, Richard thankful the handwritten copy of “The Havamal.” In the dangerous city lay behind them. unheated house or out on the streets, they Oftentimes, area churches, honoring talked of a future together, maybe one with Christian tenets to care for the poor and the kids. Christmas hungry, hosted Tent came, then New City 3. Brandy and Year’s passed. Happy Richard bused to 2009. Calvin Presbyterian Not long into Church. Set on a tract January, when Mr. Richard lay still In the of land that hugged Unheated House sleeping bag. Scoot over, the corner of started acting like a Northwest Richmond Brandy yelled, pushing him pervert, Richard and Beach Road and Third with her loot, "That's when Brandy shoved their Avenue Northwest, clothes into their he freaked ©nt/' Brandy the church was a backpacks and split. sprawling house of remembers, Richard stood, With two borrowed worship. Just south of caging her In his arms. She sleeping bags they the sanctuary rose a trudged to the resisted, Bonyt loach me, she hill, mostly flat, its greenbelt near the yelled, Richard grabbed her crest a large square of Boise River, close to frozen, grassy earth. A hy the throat. He threw her where they’d first chainlink fence ran kissed. Richard down. Brandy slapped him, along the southern guided Brandy to a He punched her In the head. edge. From the spot under a bridge. hilltop’s mesa rose a They inchwormed motley crew of tents, inside their sleeping some draped with bags. The tarps, others exposed. temperature dropped. The pair approached. Wind blew. Snow fell; by morning, three Everyone who entered or left Tent City 3 inches covered the ground. had to pass a welcome desk. Brandy and The next night, with a low in the 20s, Richard asked about space. The encampment Richard led Brandy to a multistory garage. In had room for couples, but it also had rules. a stairwell, they huddled together. He gave No drinking or drugs. No violence. Everyone Brandy his coat, but it barely helped. He held pitched in. A 24-hour security patrol dealt her close as she shivered all night. with any problems. Even with addiction Then Brandy cried uncle. They needed issu e s, th e couple a g re ed to abide, sp en d in g another solution, somewhere warm. The their first night stuffed into a one-man tent. couple ran into another guy. “And he let us They tried to settle in. But Brandy couldn’t really settle into her stay in his motel room,” Brandy says. Unlike relationship with Richard because, truthfully, the old guy, Mr. Motel didn’t want anything, things had gotten a little weird. When the except company. But Brandy didn’t intend to couple sneaked beer and malt beverages into stay. their tent, sometimes a little argument would Back in Seattle, Brandy had been accepted into a Washington state program called GA-U, flare up. Was she messing around with other guys? Was he looking at other girls? Once, Government Assistance-Unemployable, that Richard punched her. Another time, he provided her $339 each month. She planned kicked her. Of course, she didn’t show her to use her January payment to buy bus best side when she drank or used meth. And tickets to Seattle for herself and Richard. yes, she yelled, too. But no one had ever In Richard’s mind, they were a couple - a struck her before. “It wasn’t enough to make family — and he worried she might back out me think I should do anything about it,” she of the relationship. So he agreed. He’d move says. So she kept quiet. to Seattle. Sometimes when she tried to meet fellow When the GA-U funds hit her account, the pair packed up and headed to the bus station. Tent City 3 residents, Richard would interrupt, pulling her away. He told her it Once again, Brandy sat on a Greyhound, this was to protect her. “But it started to feel time bound for Seattle, with a boyfriend who isolating,” Brandy recalls. The sense of she realized she didn’t really know. But he d isolation grew when it came to her good told her he’d protect her. He wanted to friend from Pocatello, Morgan Price. In change his life, like she did. It seemed easier January 2009, she lived in Shoreline, less to do it together. Besides, Brandy figured, than five miles from Tent City 3. what was the worst that could happen? Morgan had come to the Seattle area in August 2008 seeking sobriety, and she had Emerald City triumphed - until Christmas Day, when she rom the moment he arrived in January celebrated the holidays with wine. After 2009, Richard thought Seattle was the Brandy contacted her, Morgan sneaked beer into Tent City 3 to welcome Brandy back to worst place in the world. He followed Brandy from the Greyhound Washington. Brandy unzipped the yellow station at 811 Stewart St. on to Third tent, and Morgan entered. When Morgan saw Richard for the first Avenue. As they trudged into downtown Seattle, a city three times the size of Boise, time, she thought: He is not a good Richard stared. Homeless people, drunk character. She couldn’t explain it, exactly. “I just had a really bad feeling about him,” she people, drugged-up people: They were everywhere. Surely someone would jump the says. She sat down. Richard was so quiet, two of them, beat the crap out of them. To Morgan thought that maybe he wasn’t too happy she’d shown up. She was right. Richard, it felt like a midnight walk down Since Morgan and Brandy were old Crack Alley. But what really spooked him was friends, old dope friends, that meant they’d a fear that Brandy might dump him, in a city do stuff together - without Richard. “And I where he didn’t know a soul. I just couldn t didn’t want Brandy ditching me,” Richard handle it,” Richard says. remembers. Having Morgan hang around was Insisting they weren’t safe downtown, he prodded Brandy to find somewhere less a bad idea. Whenever Morgan bought all three of dangerous. So Brandy and Richard walked, them beer or meth, Richard drank and used, south to Pioneer Square, north to Belltown, then sat silent. Whenever Morgan and then backtracked to the end of the Alaskan Brandy hung out together, Richard bad- Way Viaduct. They tucked themselves under mouthed Morgan when Brandy returned. the off-ramp, with the traffic rattling Slowly, but surely, he eased Morgan out of overheard. They crashed until morning. Over the course of a week, they wandered F Brandy’s life. He felt that like most of the residents of Tent City 3, Morgan couldn’t be trusted. The only thing Brandy could trust was her sense that something had shifted in the relationship. Richard’s protection didn’t feel like protection any longer. “What if I would have done something else and followed my first instinct and not pursued a relationship?” she remembers. Along with that instinct, Brandy had another feeling, one she couldn’t ignore. She needed to address it, and the way to start was to head to the store. finding work. He asked around Tent City 3. These two guys he knew, one promised him a job, once the recession ended. The other, who worked, invited Richard and Brandy out for a drink. His treat. Inside the bar, Brandy had an idea on how she could drink without hurting the baby. She’d order a beer, take a sip, then pass it to Richard. Order, sip, pass, order, sip, pass. They moved on to another bar. Order, sip, pass, order, sip, pass. On to a nightclub. It was ladies’ night. Richard expected the same routine, but Brandy, sipping a cocktail, passed it to the guy who treated them. Order, sip, pass. Brandy stepped outside for a few The intuitive woman drags. When the door swung open, Richard randy and Richard strolled the aisles of saw her talking to a group of women. Fred Meyer, a supermarket-department Once she came back, Richard was pissed. store, until Richard found what they needed: What were you doing out there? he yelled. an early pregnancy test. He tore open a box, Bar patrons watched. The bartender ordered shook out the plastic test stick and handed him to leave. the stick to Brandy. She carried it to a Richard turned to Brandy. We’re going, he bathroom, where she urinated on the stick’s said. absorbent end. Without the directions, Brandy picked up the stick too soon and, unable to read the results, shoved it into her purse. When she looked again, the results were inconclusive. Richard stole another one. This time, Brandy followed the directions. The small test windows on the stick revealed faint symbols, but she didn’t trust the results. So on Jan. 26, 2009, they trekked to Planned Parenthood. After paying $20, Brandy provided a urine sample. The pair sat in the reception area. Neither spoke for 15 nerve-wracking minutes, but it seemed like hours. A patient educator directed Richard and Brandy into a private room. Yes, Brandy was pregnant. About five weeks. The educator handed her a sheet of paper with an estimated due date: early October. A baby. She was going to have a baby. Brandy felt a surge of happiness. She’d be a mother again. Skye would have brother. Or maybe a sister... B A baby? She w as going to have a baby? In T en t City 3? And w ith a m an s h e ’d know n barely six weeks? If only they could find somewhere inside, somewhere warm so — Richard. She looked at him. Was he ... crying? Do you want to discuss options for your pregnancy? the patient educator asked. I’m keeping the baby, Brandy said. Richard folded the due date paper and slid it in his wallet. Outside, Richard cried again. Finally, another chance at the family he craved. Then Brandy saw what looked like anger replace his joy. I need a beer, Richard said. What? she said. You’re supposed to be happy. I am happy. That’s how men celebrate, he said. Back at Tent City 3, Richard went out with a friend. He returned, a little drunk, with a few impulse buys he’d picked up at a store. Brandy derided him for the frivolous purchases, especially now. An argument broke out. The tension rose. She said they needed to save money. Richard’s fist hammered into her stomach. Brandy fell to her knees. Richard turned, unzipped the tent flap, walked out. Brandy held her stomach. What had happened? One minute, they were yelling, the next, she was on the ground. What should she do? She wanted to tell someone. Morgan, perhaps? But would Richard get angry? Besides, the other times he hit her, she’d never said anything. Had she brought it on? She didn’t think so. But he’d never hit her that hard before. So she cried. Alone in the tent, she cried. Richard came back later that night. He didn’t say a word. A big, silent whatever. Drunk, he plopped down next to her. She lay there, quiet, as he breathed, and she waited for sleep to come. The next day Brandy wondered if Richard would say anything. He didn’t. He acted like it hadn’t even happened. She decided not to mention it either. Instead Brandy moved into an I-need-to-get-things-done mode. Drinking and meth were out, but the cigarettes? She had to quit them, too? Maybe just a couple a day. That’s all. Richard, ready to provide, concentrated on B randy S w ee n ey No, I’m not, Brandy said. As drunk as he’d ever been and lost to boot, Richard somehow stumbled back to Tent City 3. He staggered to their tent, then crashed. He awoke to a voice. Brandy. He saw her silhouette pass the length of the yellow tent. She fumbled at the zipper and entered. Richard lay still in the sleeping bag. Scoot over, Brandy yelled, pushing him with her foot. “That’s when he freaked out,” Brandy remembers. Richard stood, caging her in his arms. She resisted. Don’t touch me, she yelled. Richard grabbed her by the throat. He threw her down. Brandy slapped him. He punched her in the head. Stop! she screamed. Get off! They wrestled. They slapped. They hit. She screamed. Security staff and residents barged into the tent. They pulled Richard off Brandy, hauling him out. Leave now, they said. Richard stood outside Tent City 3 and bellowed. Minutes later, a squad car pulled up. Officers subdued him, then shuttled him to a nearby hospital. Richard spent the night in detox. The next morning, Brandy was still a little dazed but remembered the fight. And she reconsidered what she’d known for so long. The relationship, it wasn’t good. She was done, even with a baby. No more. Maybe a shower would help wash away the memory. The only showers available to residents, however, were in a nearby gym. Brandy prepared to catch a bus. As she walked across the carpet liners that covered the pathways of Tent City 3, she saw someone standing across the street: Richard. He stared. It took Brandy a moment to realize why he was there: “He was stalking me.” Look for the second part of the series in the next Street Roots. Republished from Real Change News, Seattle, Wash.
