Fiction Ruined My Family - Jeanne Darst [13]
One night, shortly after we had moved to Bronxville, my parents went out to dinner in the city and Eleanor, as usual, was in charge of everybody. She heated up some pot pies and announced we would be watching The Ordeal of Patty Hearst on TV.
Katharine was on the divan and Julia and Eleanor and I were all on the carpet, leaning against Mom and Dad’s bed. Guinness was at the top of the stairs behind the door that led downstairs. Guinness barked quite a bit, but the main thing that provoked barking and violent attacks was not the sound of intruders or other dogs on the street but the sound of laughter. Nothing made our dog more nuts than the sound of people enjoying themselves, but in particular it was Katharine’s laugh that drove Guinness to attack. When he heard Katharine laugh, Guinness would charge Katharine and maul her. I can understand the impulse, certainly; some people’s laughs make me want to attack in the same way. Too-loud laughs—too fake—a combination of too loud AND fake, in abundance in Southern California and on television, are biteworthy. But Katharine’s laugh is just an ordinary ha-HA! kind of laugh, ever so slightly higher in pitch than her normal voice. Which was why it was so continually surprising that he should single her out. When she would laugh in the kitchen, where Guinness dwelt most of the time, you’d just glare at her as if to say “What the fuck are you doing?” and then, as if Katharine had stuck a steak in her shirt, Guinness would run at her and bite her legs, jump on her, scratch her legs with his claws, nip at her arms, all the while barking and growling.
At one point in The Ordeal of Patty Hearst, I got up to go to the bathroom. I thought it was odd when I returned that no one had taken my seat, because it was a desired front-of-TV kind of spot and in a house of four girls, nothing was still yours if you walked away from it. So maybe I should have known something sinister was under way. The movie ended. Eleanor got up, walked to the TV and shut it off, something I had never seen her do without having Dad tell her to. She turned and looked at me.
“You’re Patty Hearst and we’re the SLA.”
“What?” I said. I wasn’t even a brunette. Who was casting this kidnapping?
Katharine and Julia went and stood next to Eleanor in a police-barricade formation.
“We’re the SLA. Now get on your feet.” It could be hours before Mom and Dad got home.
I scrambled to my feet and tried to ram my head through them to get out of my parents’ bedroom but they pushed me to the floor and kneed my face into the carpet.
“Who’s got the rope?” Eleanor yelled.
Julia held one over her head. “Affirmativo!”
Eleanor grabbed the rope and as I wriggled and squirmed Eleanor and her two goons managed to hog-tie me and then blindfold me with a scarf of Mom’s. Next they got me on their shoulders and began carrying me down the front stairs and into the kitchen where Guinness became part of the procession, barking and jumping up at my stomach. After nearly dropping me several times they finally headed back up the front stairs and opened a linen closet and threw me in. Guinness leapt into the closet with me and that’s when the SLA shut the door. Guinness proceeded to scratch my legs and arms and bark wildly. I yelled and yelled but it was no use. I wasn’t sure whether I would be getting out in a few minutes or when my parents got home. I heard laughter and talking above the barking but no specifics of my fate. The darkness of the closet was really riling Guinness up. I don