Gads. I go offline for a few weeks and my son finally updates his blog-whoa, what updates!
His (now ex) girlfriend, the one I liked, got drunk-roaring, apparently-and after hacking her way through the bathroom door with a rather large kitchen knife, stabbed my son with a rather large kitchen knife. The same knife she used to hack through the door. I think.
She blogged that county jail orange is not her colour and that she would never have called the police on him so why did he on her; he commented on her site that she was not clear on the details.
He then proceeded to remind her of what happened, ending by telling her that the caller had been the ambulance service that transported his stabbed, liter and a half less of blood, self to hospital. Something about no choice-it is the law in Alabama to arrest the perpetrator of domestic violence that results in an emergency full siren trip to hospital.
Which is how I know the details, his blog entry was shortish, consisting primarily of a warning against dating certain types because they will stab you. His comment on her post jail blog was somewhat more illuminating.
And then I read that his friend had died.
Few details there, too.
From consecutive posts I understood the young man was taken to hospital when found after ingesting cocaine, pills, and whiskey; he lingered as braindead for a few days, and then Friday 11 August he was pronounced, and his parents had to make arrangements for a funeral.
Tuesday afternoon he was buried.
I went to the online book of condolence the funeral home has up but couldn't bring myself to leave a message for this grieving family.
A son, a brother, a father is dead-yes, the young man left a pregnant girlfriend.
The night I got back online I went to Jobstale.blogspot.com and was floored by the post Curious Servant had up. I read it thinking, "Oh man, it is as if he was there, and saw it, heard it..." The writing left goose bumps on my arms and my soul.
Last night, after I found out about my son's friend (I remembered he is the kid who was with Fox when Fox threw the rod on the coolest car I ever owned and then in a fit of parental generosity gave to Fox thinking he was getting himself together and deserved a cool car-the kid who was so impressed that I didn't kill Fox on the spot for downshifting into third at 90 miles an hour), after I went to the online newspaper and retrieved the obit, after trying and failing to leave a condolence message for the family, I went to jobstale.blogspot.com and reread the post CS put up about how the Fall happened, and how the Garden became thorny and weedy because one of the Gardener's apprentices didn't like the plants and so started a whisper campaign...
My son's friend was 20.
He listened to the wrong whisper...