Kapiolani Community College
Diamond Journal 2004

An Unforgettable Night
Stephanie Kung

It was a lazy, quiet Saturday night at my dad’s house once again. Some delicious smelling chocolate chip cookies were baking in the oven and everyone was lounging around the kitchen, waiting to sink their teeth into the chewy, sweet delicacies. The television was on a barley audible volume in the living room and our two cats seemed to be engaged in watching the animated commercial. Just before the oven timer was set to ring, this serene scene was disrupted by an indiscreet yelling that seemed to be coming from the front yard.

“Give me back my…! I know you have it, you…!” a man’s voice angrily yelled.

What in the world? I thought, as I asked, “Is that Uncle Greg that’s making that racket?”

My grandma could only sigh, “Yes,” in response.

“Oh great, here he goes again,” my dad proclaimed.

“Yeah, I know,” said my step-mom. “He’s been yelling to himself almost everyday this week. I’m getting tired of it, it’s so embarrassing.”

“He must be talking on his pretend hand phone to his imaginary friend again. I’ll try and get him to stop,” my grandma said as she headed for the front door.

DING! The oven timer cried as it announced that the chocolate chip cookies were done baking.

“I’ll go and get that,” I said as I jumped off the couch and made my way towards the wonderful smelling kitchen.

“I’ll go too and inspect them,” my dad chimed in with a smile.

As I was taking the cookies out of the oven, I could hear my grandma’s voice get louder and louder outside.

“Greg! You better be quiet right now before I call the cops on you!” I heard my grandma shout to my uncle as he continued to converse loudly with his imaginary friend.
My uncle paused in mid-sentence to exclaim to my grandma, “Why? I’m talking to my friend on the phone. He owes me money. Leave me alone!”

“Greg! C’mon, be quiet! You’re disturbing the neighbors!” my grandma exclaimed back.

This in fact was true; the whole neighborhood was dead silent. The only noises were the dogs barking at the confrontation between my grandma and my uncle. Not a single light was visible in the neighboring houses. Everyone seemed to be listening to and watching the scene outside from their darkened houses.

As my dad and I were returning to the living room with some of the freshly baked cookies, my step-mom, who was watching the scene outside from the living room couch, remarked to my dad, “Ivan, I think you better get out there. Greg sounds really angry. I don’t want your mom getting hurt; you don’t know what he’s capable of doing.”

“Yeah, dad, you’re the man of the house. Go tell him who’s the boss!” I told my dad.

“Yeah, I think I better go out there,” my dad responded as he took a big bite out of a chocolate chip cookie.

As my dad made his way outside, I thought, Wow, this is getting pretty interesting. Nothing like this has ever happened while I was at my dad’s house before. Curious to see what my dad’s presence would bring upon the situation, my step-mom and I rushed to the window that was facing the scene and anxiously watched as my dad walked down the sidewalk towards my uncle and grandma. My uncle was slightly leaning against the wall that surrounded my dad’s property, smoking a cigarette, and angrily clutching his make-shift hand phone to his face. My grandma was nearby, apparently frustrated because she couldn’t calm her son down. As my dad approached the scene, he yelled at his brother to be quiet in a very strong and authoritative tone.

“Greg! Be quiet!” my dad emphasized, “You’re doing this almost every night! That is enough already!”

Hearing my dad’s authoritative tone, my uncle swung around, glared at my dad, and screamed a profanity in response.

My dad, apparently offended about being sworn at, said, “OK, fine!” and started walking back towards the house.

Everyone was wondering where my dad was going, as we watched him pass the window where my step-mom and I were at and make his way towards the side of the house. He didn’t respond to our questions, as he walked past the window with a slightly agitated and determined look on his face.

“ Dad?” I asked, with no response.

Okay, I thought, He must be up to something. I wonder what’s going on in his mind.

As soon as I thought that, I heard the squeaking of the water spigot being turned on. Uh oh! Is my dad going to spray my uncle with the water hose? This night is getting more interesting by the moment, I thought.

My dad soon reappeared with, yes, the water hose in hand. He walked straight up towards my uncle, who was once again leaning with his back against the wall, and stopped a short distance away from him.

“ Ivan! Don’t!” my step-mom screamed with fear in her voice.
My grandma, aware of what my dad was intending to do, slowly started to distance herself away from her two sons and headed towards the safety of the garage side door.
I could only watch with minute satisfaction as my dad raised and extended his arms in the water hose shooting fashion.

“ Greg!” my dad yelled, as my uncle turned to look.

SPWOOSH!

The sound of the water hose spraying my uncle in the face was the only sound to be heard in the quiet Mililani neighborhood.

“ Hahahaha” my dad gleefully laughed as he dropped the water hose and sprinted towards the garage.

“ Arrgghhh!” my uncle responded as he jumped the wall and dashed after my dad.

“ Ivan! Ivan!” my step-mom screamed as she watched my uncle almost catch up to my dad.

Wow, I thought, my uncle moves pretty fast for a heavyset man. He almost caught up with my dad, and my dad had a couple of seconds’ head start! Run, dad, run! I thought as they got close enough that I could hear my uncle’s feet pounding the sidewalk.

THUD! THUD! THUD! My uncle’s feet resounded as he chased my dad right up to the locked garage side door.

My grandma, who watched my dad spray my uncle in the face from the garage side door, anxiously waited for my dad to zoom past her so she could quickly lock my greatly infuriated uncle outside. As soon as my dad rushed past her, she tried her best to quickly double lock the gated door. She got it locked; just the same time as my uncle reached the door. She sighed in relief as she cautiously looked at her enraged and drenched son, pounding and yelling at her to open the door and let him inside.

“ Greg,” she said in a calm, yet authoritative voice, “Go change your clothes and go into my car to cool off.”

“ No!” my uncle shouted, “Open the door! I want to talk to Ivan.”

“ No! Don’t open the door!” my step-mom yelled.

“Greg, I said go to my car and cool off.”

My uncle stared at her coldly and slowly backed away from the door. He glanced at my step-mom and I near the window as he searched for another way to get into the house.
Watching all of this unfold from the window, my step-mom and I quickly backed away when the action came too close. We both feared for the safety of my dad and my grandma as they were outside; unprotected from the safety of the house. See, my uncle is a heavyset man in his late 30’s, and used to be heavily into the drug scene in his younger days. He suffers from acute schizophrenia and often doesn’t remember or recognize the people he knows. Needless to say, he is very unpredictable and uncontrollable when he’s enraged.

“ What happened?” my step-mom and I asked in shock as both my grandma and dad entered the house through the front door.

“ Well, I…”

“ Ivan sprayed…”

CRASH!

Before either of them could respond, we all turned in horror as we saw my uncle force himself in through the window screen that my step-mom and I were just at. The poor window screen was too flimsy to withstand the force of my uncle and it bent into unfixable positions as it tried to keep my uncle from coming inside the house.
Having a wild look and a beet red face, my uncle eyed all of us out like a wild dog. He was breathing a little heavy, I guess he hadn’t run that much in a while, and the top half of his clothes were all soaking wet. As soon as he spotted my dad, he started charging towards him like an angry bull.

“Greg! Stop it!” my step-mom and grandma shrieked.

My uncle was oblivious of everyone but my dad. You could only imagine how enraged my uncle was just by looking at the color of his beet red face. My dad, obviously scared, tried to run away from his charging younger brother but there was no where to go. My uncle swung at my dad, but my dad ducked.

“I’m going to get you! You…” my uncle shouted as he chased after my dad.

My dad got trapped in between the kitchen and the dining area and my uncle wrestled him to the ground with his arm around my dad’s neck.
He’s trying to choke my dad! I thought, as all I could do was stare and watch them fight.

“Get off him! Greg, stop it!” my step-mom cried hysterically, trying to get my uncle to loosen his grip on my dad.

“Call 911! Call 911!” was the only thing my dad could spurt out as his arms were flailing wildly and his face, turning red.

Frozen in shock for a minute, I ran to the living room to go call 911. My grandma also ran to her room to go call the police. With my heart racing and my mind still in shock, I desperately tried to relay to the operator what was happening right in front of my eyes.

“ My uncle and dad are fighting in the house,” I stammered, knowing that she could hear the commotion from the phone. “My uncle broke in through the window. He’s trying to choke my dad! We need the police!”

“ Calm down, calm down,” I heard her say. “What’s your address?”

“ I don’t know,” I replied, “I don’t live at my dad’s house. I’m barely here.”

“ OK,” she replied. “That’s OK. The police will be there shortly. I’m going to have to hang up with you now, is that alright?”

“ Yes,” I replied, as I hung up the phone.

During my conversation with the operator, I watched helplessly as my dad struggled to free himself from the choking arm of my uncle. My step-mom was right there beside them, crying hysterically and hitting my uncle; telling him to let go of my dad. Oblivious to my step-mom until now, my uncle took a swing at her; barely missing her petite frame. My uncle, being distracted for just a moment, allowed my dad to wriggle free from his grasp. As my dad struggled to get to his feet, my step-mom tried to talk to my uncle and calm him down.

“ Greg! I’ll give you whatever you want, just calm down and you can get your stuff,” she was saying.

Apparently while my uncle was choking my dad, he was yelling where his belongings were. I suppose he believed that my dad had his belongings and when my dad cried, “I don’t know,” it angered my uncle more.

Seeing that my step-mom was in the way from him getting his “belongings” from my dad, my uncle tried to sucker punch her. Thankfully, she ducked and at the same time my dad sucker punched my uncle in the cheek. My uncle retaliated back by lounging and yelling at my dad. Somewhere during all of this confusion, my dad’s hand ended up near my uncle’s mouth and my uncle bit my dad.

“ Ouch! Let go of my hand, Greg!” my dad cried, wincing in pain.

My uncle wouldn’t let go, so my dad started punching my uncle with his free hand. My step-mom also started hitting my uncle simultaneously until he let go of my dad’s hand.
I could only hope and pray that the police would come soon. I secretly wanted to beat the living daylights out of my uncle because I was so angry and scared at the situation; but I knew I couldn’t. I thought about grabbing a frying pan from the kitchen and hitting my uncle on the head with it; but I knew I wouldn’t. I didn’t have enough courage or strength to do that. All I could do was fearfully watch from the living room and hope that the police would come soon.

I don’t know what got my uncle to stop beating up my dad. Maybe he finally realized that he was beating up his own brother; maybe he saw the blood dripping from the bite wound on my dad’s hand; maybe he got fed up with the situation and decided that it wasn’t worth it; I’m not sure. My uncle is a very complicated and schizophrenic guy.
As my uncle stared dumbly at my dad, I noticed that his complexion had returned to its natural color. That’s a good thing, I thought. Before my uncle left my father’s gaze, he swore at him once more about his belongings.

“ Don’t ever touch my belongings again! You dumb…” my uncle said, menacingly.

As he headed towards the broken window, my uncle got in my face and yelled at me about his belongings. I didn’t know where they were and I didn’t bother trying to respond. I just stared coldly at him until he turned around with a huff and climbed back outside through the open window.

My step-mom, dad, and I stood just where we were, staring at the open window unto the black night and tried to recollect what had just happened. Hearing that the commotion had ceased outside her door, my grandma cautiously reentered the living room from her bedroom. She must’ve been on the phone with the operator, either that, or too afraid to come outside. Everyone was pretty shaken from what had just happened; the look on everyone’s faces said everything. My dad was the worst; he was very bruised and battered. His hand looked disgusting as the imprint of my uncle’s teeth marks showed clearly through his broken skin. His hair was disheveled and his glasses, bent. My step-mom was sobbing uncontrollably and I offered to hug her for support. My grandma appeared scared, but calm. I was emotional; very scared, sympathetic, and angry at the same time. The anger that was directed at my uncle, now found its way towards my dad. I thought he was incredibly stupid for instigating the fight and part of me thought that my dad deserved what he got. My dad was no match for my uncle; he’s very slim and lightweight. What was my dad thinking? He should’ve known that my uncle was unpredictable.

| Just as things were settling down, two police cars slowly cruised up to my dad’s house. This wasn’t the first time that the police were called to the house as a result of my uncle and that could’ve been the reason why they took so long to arrive. It was good, actually, that they took their time because it gave my uncle time to cool down. As the police made their report and collected statements, my uncle was sitting quietly in my grandma’s car. I wondered what he was thinking as I watched everything from inside the house. I didn’t want to be outside if he tried to fight the police; I had too much excitement for one night. As the police handcuffed and led my uncle to their car without a fight, I thought of how sad his life must be. I felt an overwhelming sense of compassion for him and for what drugs did to him. It’s so sad how such a promising life can be destroyed by an addiction to drugs.

After the police took my uncle away, my step-mom took my dad to the hospital to have a doctor examine his open bite wound on his hand. It looked like it possibly needed stitches, but as I found out later; all the doctors did was clean and bandage the wound.

As my grandma drove me home to my mom’s house at the same time that my step-mom was driving my dad to the hospital, I could sense how sad a disappointed she was from the present situation. It must have been equally hard for her to watch her youngest child waste his life away and live as a bum on the street. I wouldn’t want my mom to have to go through that. My uncle is the prime example of how I do not want my life to end up. Seeing what drugs did to him firsthand has caused me to stay away from drugs altogether.

As of right now, we do not know where my uncle is. After he got arrested, he went through a couple months of rehab and no one has seen him since then. We all want him to change his life around, but until he has the motivation to help himself; he will forever be in the same state.