Chapter 11: Life Of Pinay In US

Whilst we continued living as a husband and wife, I could see that nothing was ever going to change with our situation. I didn’t need to psychoanalyze Jack, because he was who he was! Staying and living with him was quite challenging. I did not want to settle down and think, “I can’t get out” I knew I could. I was just waiting for the right time. I treated those moments of darkness as just temporary, or should I say I was just riding a train and just passing through under the tunnel where it was dark, only because I knew that at the end of the tunnel I would see some light. I had to be brave and keep my hopes alive. It was the only way to keep my sanity in check.       Life must move on, Jack still controlled our finances, taking my hard-earned money and using it for whatever he wanted to use it for. He made damn sure that I had nothing extra left over for myself. I knew what he was doing! (He trapped me). He wanted me to be completely dependent on him and he made me feel that I was worthless. I was miserable, unhappy, lonely with no friends or family to talk to. I felt pain, not physically, but emotionally in pain. I guess at the same token, the pain was my unrequited strength to keep me going to protect my emotions from further destruction. Two years of being married with Jack, I thought it was time and I had enough!  

     One day, Jack’s young teenager son (18 years old) who took off on him when he was 5 years old, came back home to live with us (I didn’t know the whole story about this subject at first, but we’ll get to it later!)    During the last week of Deer hunting season, I remember I was with Jack; we both wore camouflage. I was in the middle of acres and acres of land and he was at the other side of it. I sat on top of the tree for probably 2 to 3 hours being ice cold, extremely cold. Jack and I used a CB radio as our means of communication. The sun was about set and it was getting really dark, so Jack and I headed home empty handed; we didn’t catch any Deer that day!        As we riding was along the bumpy road, (mind you, we were still miles away from the main road, so if anything happens no one would know or hear about it) we saw a humongous black cow with a yellow tag on its ear standing blocking our path. There was no way for us to navigate either left or right because the road was so narrow enough for just the one truck to pass through. Jack honked 3 times and the cow just stared at the bright light coming from Jack’s truck and didn’t seem to hear the honking.        Jack stepped out from the car and tried in vain to direct the cow out of our way, but with no success. Jack came right back into his truck, started the engine and tried to get closer to the cow hoping that it would move away in fear; again with no success!  He got out once again and went to the back of his truck; loaded his rifle with a bullet and then “Pop!” a loud noise came out from his rifle. This time I screamed at Jack loudly. “What are you doing?” He goes, “Just trying to scare the cow off” Again the humongous cow just stood still, care free.        Jack then got down on his right knee while he bent the other down, and with his rifle pointing towards the forehead of the cow ready to fire! I said, “Please don’t shoot the cow”. Without a word, he shot the cow directly in its forehead and it went and dropped dead on the ground. My heart were thumping and beating heavily and I was saying to myself “What have you done Jack, why?”  I was blubbering, I couldn't stop my weeping, and I was so scared! (This time it was proven that I was dealing with a seriously psychotic man. I had to get away with him)       Now what? The cow was still on the ground; it was even MORE difficult for us to pass now that the cow was dead. It was getting dark and we were becoming swarmed with fireflies overhead. Next, Jack got a rope from the back of his truck. Tied both of the cow’s back ends of its legs and attached the rope onto the back of his truck. I questioned him “What is going on, Jack? What are you going to do with the cow now?” He goes “Just shut up woman!”       When the rope was securely fastened at the back of his truck, he then starts the engine and hauled the cow for miles towards the remote hunting area. Well, once we arrived there, he untied the cow’s leg and grabbed his pocket knife located in the console of his truck. He then starts slashing the cow’s body into pieces. (Take note that the pocketknife was so tiny in contrast to the cow’s body!) This was too much for me to bear! I was blubbering, sobbing, crying, screaming and begging him. I said, “Please stop it, please, please, it is not yours and you have no right to desecrate that cow, Jaaaaaaaaaccccck stop it!” (I was already screaming this at the top of my lungs this time) He did not listen. Jack then glanced at me and while he was cutting the cow; he angrily said at the same time “You better stop crying or else!” 

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