Barbra Reifel - The Body Snatchers Wife: My Life with a Monster

A POST HILL PRESS BOOK

The Body Snatchers Wife:

My Life with a Monster

2019 by Barbra Reifel with Johnny Russo

All Rights Reserved

ISBN: 978-1-64293-318-5

ISBN (eBook): 978-1-64293-319-2

Cover art by Cody Corcoran

Interior design and composition by Greg Johnson, Textbook Perfect

All people, locations, events, and situations are portrayed to the best of the authors memory. While all of the events described are true, many names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of the people involved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publisher.

Post Hill Press

New York Nashville

posthillpress.com

Published in the United States of America

The Insight

M y eyes darted to his shirt sleeve rolled up to his elbow. He had used recently. He was coming down from his high. Watching a movie with the boys, I didnt get up from their low beds to greet him.

Hey, guys.

Hi, Dad. Their eyes never left the TV.

Barb, Im leaving for Kens in about twenty minutes, my hours are from three to eight.

Okay. Change your shirt.

My eyes directed him, the bright red blood stains, fresh, unmistakable.

His ol faithful. Thats old.

I turned back to the movie. Okay.

His brow raised, upper lip curled, teeth clenched. You dont believe me? You fucking cunt! Fuck you! Nobody believes me! Im never gonna live this down!

He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The trim pulled away from the wall, falling to the floor. The childrens doe eyes gaped at me for reassurance.

More lies. Everythings okay, Daddys sorry for cursing. Watch your movie, Ill be right back. Stay here or the movie goes off, deal?

Deal. They turned back to the movie, comforted by my protection and Mommys magic.

I raised the volume, gently shutting the broken door, knowing soon I would need to have him leave. I locked our bedroom door behind me, planning to diffuse. What is wrong? And dont curse in front of the kids!

Fuck the kids! And fuck you! Youll always be scrutinizing me! Everyone will! I didnt use today!

Fuck the kids? You selfish son of a bitch! Dont you ever say those words again! I took all your blood-stained shirts out of your closet! Those bright red stains are new, and you know it! Youre a damn liar! Tell the truth for once!

He lunged at me, grabbing my shoulders, shaking me. My arms twisting to get free, he slammed me into the closet folding door. I fell back as the door collapsed. Another closet. He started pacing, ranting. This was getting old.

You think Im using? Yeah? Ill throw you out the fuckin window! You fuckin cunt!

Pushing myself up from the shelves, I came right up to his face. Go ahead! I dare you! Throw me out the fuckin window! Go ahead! Leave your kids without a mother! All theyll have left is a piece of shit junkie for a father! A lot of good youll be to them! Shoving his chest. Do it! I dare you!

He put his face closer to mine, nose to nose. Dont you fuckin touch me! Who the fuck do you think youre pushin?

Cmon! Throw me, big shot! I stomped to the window and opened it. Im waiting! You fucking cunt! I hate that word.

He retreated, grunted and thundered out of the house. I checked on the boys, still fixed to the TV. Thank God for Disney all day. Mike went downstairs to play Nintendo, while Gerry stayed to finish watching the show. Therapeutically folding laundry, what was my next move? Like a dark twisted game of chess. A momentary sober apology later was meaningless. He, his drugs, and his violent temper needed to leave, for real.

As I carried the boys clothes down the hall, Gerry walked out of his room, his eyes fixed on something in his hand. Trying to make out what it was, I picked up the pace toward him. Gerrys eyes sparkled up at me and held up his newfound plaything, waddling faster toward me. As he came closer, his toy came into focus. My baby was holding a syringe with no cap, needle exposed! Dropping the clothes to the floor, steadily moving toward him, I smiled excitedly, softly coaxing him to show me. He handed it to me with a proud smile.

Look, Mama!

Thank you! I safely tucked the needle right up on a high ledge where we stood.

He started crying and reached his arm up toward the ledge, his hand motioning to grab. Mama! I want it! Its mine!

Calming him, as I checked his entire body for any accidental pokes, perfect and pure, thank God, pointing up. Gerry, thats bad! Bad boo-boo! Ouch-ouch! I waved my hand as if it hurt.

Gerry stopped crying instantly without a blink. He understood. He was happy with his juice cup, joining his brother who was completely unmoved by all the commotion, playing his video game. Back to their room. Where did my child find this needle? Surely there were more. Gerrys sock drawer lowest to the floor for him to reach was open, in plain sight an empty Demerol with a syringe cap and some bloody tissues. My mind reeled, rummaging through the drawer, under and in every pair of socks and underwear, another syringe and bottle, not yet used.

Is he serious? In the childrens drawer? Thats it! Hes not stepping foot back in!

Every inch needed to be checked. Mikes drawer above his, every drawer, piece of clothing, pocket, shoe, their closet, clean. The search was not done. He needed to leave with every drop of his poison. Michaels closet, the inside pockets of hanging jackets and pants, every shoe, sock, the shelves, in, under or behind his drawers, the pile of my findings grew. Tearing the bathroom apart, smelling every cologne and bottled liquid for that distinctive Demerol smell, more. On to the guest room, more.

Stop. Take a minute. Breathe.

Startled by my cell ring, Ken. Barb, you gotta come up here right away and get Mike out of here! I found him in my office shooting up into his leg! He had a patient in the chair going under! Thank God I caught him! No one is hurt. My dad is furious! You know we love him, but this has to stop!

Keep breathing .

My dad called the Board of Dentistry and the DEA. Im not sure if hell press charges against him. I reached out to all the guys to let them know what happened.

Finally! Real help at last.

Ill be up as soon as I can. Ill inform Michaels sponsor. Hell get things done.

Once again, Mike and Gerry to my parents house for shelter, conveniently in Rockland as well, just a couple of miles from Kens office. I wasnt his wife. I was his damn keeper. On my way to Kens office, Dr. Griffith confirmed this was grounds for him to coerce Michael to enter a more intensive program dictated by him. Jail or his license? Behold the carrot. At their office, I apologized to Ken and his dad, sharing details of Dr. Griffiths plan.

Kens father hugged me, then held my hand sternly.

Sweetheart, dont you apologize. This is not your fault. Hes a grown man. He knows what hes doing. You just take care of yourself and those boys.

Our ride home was silent. No mention of Dr. Griffith. He would soon find out. Michael entered a four-week program the following week in Tully Hill rehab center near Syracuse, New York. This one he couldnt leave. While he was away, more evidence uncovered that he had never lost touch with Hellina. The more I dug, the more I unearthed, wanting to find nothing. No more living in his lies. Everything about Michael was not true. I was leaving him. How many times can one man break a womans heart? A woman he claimed to love and couldnt live without?

First, my children. Theyd seen and heard too much. The schools were made aware of our home situation. The boys, unknowing of the severe reality of it all, believed their father was away for work again. Their teachers and counselors, on guard for their welfare, commended me keeping balance and stability for my children. I appreciated their support. Given the circumstances, I was trying. Through all of this, since I abandoned my fitness competitions to be there for my family because of him, I achieved my certifications in Master Fitness Trainer/Sports Nutrition Consultant to help others, especially moms. It was mine. He couldnt touch that. And it would allow me to make my own schedule around the boys school and activities.