My Hex-Wife

This is rich. Listen to this, Ms J.

I spoke with Kelly today. On the phone. She told me Maxine (Dan's pregnant girlfriend) has gone to live in a "home". She'll be staying there until two months after the baby's born. Counselors there will teach her Life skills and help her learn to care for a baby. It seems a daunting task. She's not able to care for herself, poor feckless girl. I'm pleased to learn she'll get some counselling. Dan could do with a little himself, but naturally, it's pointless to suggest it, as he already knows everything. Kelly did offer me a tiny shred of hope, though. Dan's found employment, in a local drugstore. He's been working hard for three weeks now, putting in overtime when he can, and saving a bit of money. Good for him!

The conversation turned to the impending birth (she's about eighteen weeks, I think) and Kelly expressed her hope that I might soon "come around." I told her I will one day come to accept this event. I'll have no choice in the end, will I? But I may never see it as a good thing. How can it be a good thing, Ms J? The Boy is nineteen. He has a grade ten education. An $8/hr job at a drugstore. The mother is seventeen. And retarded.

"Learning impaired," says Kelly.

Whatever. The girl doesn't have the sense God gave a lemon.

"Aren't you happy about becoming a grandfather?" Kelly asked.

How can she be so obtuse?

"No, Kelly," I told her. "I cannot feel happy about this."

She could tell I wasn't being swayed so she tried a slightly different approach.

"The ultra-sound technician says it's a boy. A grandson. He'll carry on the Pringle name."

I moved the cordless phone to the other ear, took a deep, slow breath, and waited for her to continue. I don't give a shit, I thought. But I didn't say it. It would only cause trouble.

"Did you tell your parents?" she asked.

"Yeah, they know."

"Are they happy about becoming great-grandparents?"

"Not really," I said.

That was it, Ms Journal. With those two words, I had lit Kelly's fuse. She loves to manipulate people and she's quite good at it. But when she's not successful, she goes berserk.

"Fine," she spat. "I'll just tell Daniel his grandparents don't want anything to do with him."

I tried to respond, but I was unable even to speak a single syllable without being interrupted. That's Kelly's method of attack. I'm quite familiar with it. She hurls words, sharpened like javelins, in a relentless verbal assault. Retreat is the only method of defense. So I hung up the phone.

I should have left it at that, but it seemed a childish thing to have done, so I called her back. (Here's where it gets interesting, Ms J.) She picked up the phone, but she didn't say hello.

"I hope you like the hex I just sent you," were the first words she spoke and they were dripping with poison.

"What?" I said. "What hex?"

"Like the last one I sent you. Remember when we had that big fight last winter? You went to church the next day and God pushed you down the stairs and you broke your fucking leg. Remember that? Well I hope you liked it, 'cause I just put another hex on you."

I was smiling, Ms J, and trying not to laugh. A hex? Was she really serious? Did she actually believe this? Does she think she's a witch with powers of black magic? Maybe I wasn't hearing correctly. I asked for an explanation.

"Kelly, I really have no idea what you're talking about. Did you say 'hex'?"

Then she began to wail. It wasn't crying, exactly. It was more of a ... well, it was a wail. She was wailing, Ms J. She was a wailing whale. Her voice was very loud, and shrieking. I couldn't make much sense of what she was saying. I could only pick out bits and pieces of it. Sentence fragments. Rubbish. But rubbish meant to hurt.

" ... Dan says he's never going to see your parents again."

" ... I'm taking you back to court for more child support."

" ... you're trying to take my kids away from me."

" ... your family is so fucked up."

" ... and Meagan hates you and she never wants to see you again."

That last one got to me. It pierced my heart, Ms Journal. I knew it wasn't true, but it hurt nonetheless. I am proud to tell you that I did not hang up the phone. I simply carried it into another room, gently set it down, and walked away. I suppose Kelly continued her toxic tirade then until she collapsed into hysterical tears and slammed down the phone. I suppose that's what she did. I don't know. I wasn't listening.

The mother of my children thinks she's a witch, with supernatural powers.

It's a wonder Dan's not more disturbed. God help them. Protect them. All of them.

***