“This belt came all the way from Texas just to whip you,” he said, calmly. Then He started swinging it, buckle first. Sometimes my mother fought back, and she did that night. She threw a marble candlestick at his head. He ducked and it thudded the wall. She ran into the bathroom, locked the door, and cowered on the toilet. He kicked the door down and backhanded her hard. Her head slammed into the wall. She was barely conscious when he grabbed a fistful of her hair and dragged her down the hall.

By then my brother and I had heard the violence, and we watched him drag her all the way down the stairs to the first floor, then crouch over her with the belt in his hand. She was bleeding from the temple and the lip, and the sight of her blood lit a fuse in me. In that moment my hatred overcame my fear. I ran downstairs and jumped on his back, slammed my tiny fists into his back, and scratched at his eyes. I’d caught him off guard and he fell to one knee. I wailed on him.

“Don’t hit my mom!” I yelled. He tossed me to the ground, stalked toward me,belt in hand, then turned toward my mother.

“You’re raising a gangster,” he said, half-smiling.I curled into a ball when he started swinging his belt at me.

I could feel bruises rise on my back as my mom crawled toward the control pad near the front door.She pressed the panic button and the house exploded in alarm. He froze, looked toward the ceiling, mopped his brow with his sleeve, took a deep breath, looped and buckled his belt, and went upstairs to wash off all that evil and hate. Police Were on their way, and he knew it.

My mother’s relief was short-lived. When the cops arrived, Trunnis met them atthe door. They looked over his shoulder toward my mom, who stood several places behind him, her face swollen and caked with dried blood. But those were different days. There was no #metoo back then. That shit didn’t exist, and they ignored her. Trunnis told them it was all a whole lot of nothing. Just some necessary domestic discipline.

“Look at this house. Does it look like I mistreat my wife?” He asked. “I give her mink coats, diamond rings, I bust my ass to give her everything she wants, and she throws a marble candlestick at my head. She’s spoiled.”

The police chuckled along with my father as he walked them to their car. They Left without interviewing her. He didn’t hit her again that morning. He didn’thave to. The psychological damage was done. From that point on it was clear tous that as far as Trunnis and the law were concerned it was open season, and we were the hunted.

SUBSCRIBE TO GET DAILY FREE LESSONS FROM OUR NEWSLETTER.