Little Martin grew up with his, one year older, brother Jurko in a nice three-bedroom apartment. Grandfather from mother’s side bought it for them. Poor grandad was hoping for the best for his daughter but perhaps even he knew that life is a lottery. You win or lose. You stumble, it’s fine, you fall, it’s okay. You can try again. Pick yourself up, dust yourself off and carry on. So, when passionate young love turned into a dysfunctional marriage and divorce, the father left children an apartment and humbly moved into a small studio apartment a few blocks away. That’s when six-year-old Martin finally felt, for a moment, what it was like to live in a quiet and nice household. The mother even allowed them little dog. It was a gift for the children from another good-natured neighbor. Jožo Bystriansky, a railway man from the third floor who has certainly often witnessed countless dramas that have never seemed to stop echoing from the familiar second floor. Perhaps he really wanted to cheer broken family up, rather than just get into the mother’s knickers, no one knows. But one day, shortly after making some weird proposals towards my mother, he just turned up and took the little dog away. Kids were crying a lot, but he was relentless. Mum was pretty after her mother and also carried the features of her father’s gene. Big brown eyes, a gorgeous smile, dark-complexioned, long dark hair, a symmetrical figure and beautiful face, simply a goddess. When she put on a fur coat, her better-off sister bought for her, she looked a bit like Greta Garbo. Mother had a difficult life, but she always fought it bravely. Men were impressed by her physical appearance, also by her soul, personality and radiance. She had that human touch. Unfortunately, the mother was a naïve angel too. Father was always drunk; he was rarely seen sober and when he was, he was miserable and moody. Sometimes he visited kids but was always drunk so the quarrels and physical violence continued. However, he stopped visiting right after mother met someone new. She invited this new acquaintance into her life and into our home. Friends from the post office introduced her to this little weirdo. But perhaps, Jaro was just another misunderstood divine creature.
For the children, it was another setback in the form of stepfather Jaro. A nasty little midget, potbellied man, with slicked down hair. He began to appear in the apartment more and more often and even started to sleep over. Eventually kids understood this stranger actually lives with them, in their home, with their mother, and replacing their father. Jaro wasn’t a match for their mother at all. She was taller than him, and she was just too pretty for him. Everyone wondered where this pretty woman laid her eyes when she decided to live with this weirdo. She liked him, he made her laugh and probably she didn’t want to raise the kids all alone, although looking back, it would probably be a better choice. Jaro later admitted that he remained in this relationship with his mother only because she told him her brother was rich. Descendant of a small-town peasants but mainly the lazy-ass Jaro naturally thought his freshly wealthy brother-in-law would take care of them so he wouldn’t have to ever work. It was 90’s Slovakia. Uncle was a businessman or rather a racketeer, and he just started to thrive. Although most people were afraid of him, since he had that gangster vignette on him, for kids it was just their lovely uncle with lots of money. Every time he came to see his sister, he just dumped a whole pile of money into the bathtub. Highest value bank notes scattered all over the bathroom. All for his sister. Jaro thought he was dreaming. Uncle was eccentric. He had a marvelous life energy and loved his sister very much. He was full of dreams and always had a clear idea of his future. He often headed for the highest goals, even if they seemed unrealistic. He was curious, caring and energetic, inducing natural respect in humans. He acted as a strong personality, always quickly attracted attention to himself and gained the admiration of friends and family. He had a unique sense of humor; he was a great entertainer, and it was obvious that he enjoyed life. Every time he visited; he had another woman with him. All very pretty. He always brought coca cola and sweets to the children. Was always tanned, cheerful and smelled of some expensive cologne. He always had some expensive car parked downstairs, wore thick gold necklaces and bracelets, smoked Marlboro and drank expensive alcohol that only the greatest rich could afford at the time.
Stepfather Jaro, as the children used to call him, later quite undeservedly dad Jaro, was not a new father of his own good will and never even became one. He married mother out of his greedy intentions and upon the illusion of easy money. So, it was his hidden agenda and maybe also a necessity because no one else wanted this ugly troll. What he forgot, however, was that mother also had two children packed and they were in need for a new father, his kind direction, but mainly a lot of his love. Unfortunately for the children, comparing life with their real father, it was a leap out of the frying pan and into the fire. They were strangers to him and Jaro was stranger to them, and he treated them accordingly. Kids were naughty and lively and at times hyperactive, which could have been caused by both, the lack of attention and love but also a result of their previous life with an alcoholic father. Indeed, no one was paying attention to them so they were naturally attention seeking. Mother all focused on her new life, already pregnant with Jaro’s first child, and Jaro ignoring the needs of children since they were not his own. They didn’t feel to be loved, they didn’t have a human touch or true attention. They came from a broken family, they needed someone to devote themselves to them, to show them love, to raise them properly, sensitively guide them, teach them something new and all about life and this world, and also all about the big unknown. However, this was not the case. How to do a shoelaces up Martin learned from little Daniel, his best friend, who was always lovely and very sensitive. Little Daniel was observant too, he sort of knew what was going on and hence was helping even more. The mother was like she was asleep. She soon realized Jaro wasn’t the best choice. Not for the life and surely not in bed. She probably only stayed with him because the fear of loneliness, she did not want to be alone. So, one does not have to be Sigmund Freud to understand why mother was heading for, yet another, disappointment, and indeed it was just around the corner. When she was at home, you didn’t see her doing anything else but eating or napping in bed. She had no will or decisions of her own, she was weak, naïve, gullible and indecisive, everyone could just put her wherever they wanted. It was like she was living on a completely different planet. On her very own planet actually. The children were affected by the hardships of their previous life, but also by this new hostile and unhealthy family environment so, as a result, they were extremely naughty. However, neither parent managed to give a kind upbringing and sensitive guidance, so perhaps by naughtiness they just wanted to say; hey, here we are, keep an eye on us. For their disobedience at home and bad grades at school they received harsh punishments. Their mother never punished them neither their own father did, but ugly Jaro enjoyed himself in it quite passionately. It was not known if he was doing it all because of his disappointment in life, in his new wife, who already had two children but they’re not his own and so they become a burden. Or because of the fact that brother-in-law wasn’t as rich as he seemed in the end. Nevertheless, a tyranny of these two poor creatures brought him joy, and it was his new passion and joy. He didn’t stop until they were about fifteen years old and began to defend themselves and rebel naturally. Then there was this day when Jaro wanted to attack again but Martin’s brother, who was quite strong for his age, smashed this little fat guy against the wall, multiple times actually, and told him if he touches him ever again, he’d kill him with bare hands. Perhaps it was that day Jaro came to realization that it is no longer possible to commit this terror on innocent creatures because they have already grown up and can stand up to him.
Where was the mother the whole time this was happening, one might ask. Where she was the whole time, one would ask again. It’s not known who is to blame and why she allowed it, but she was probably on her own planet at the time. No, she couldn’t stand up for them, she couldn’t be as strong as her sister, whose children even their own father couldn’t touch, let alone stranger or anyone else for that matter. No, she didn’t unleash an absolute hell when he abused them, beat them and hurt them. No, don’t ask why. Perhaps she was just too lazy, lazy to get involved, lazy to take over the control of her own kids, indecisive and willingly oblivious to what was going on in her own household. Maybe only God knows how she could let this happen. While other mothers would probably put their lives for their children, she was just standing there watching a stranger beat and abuse her own children. Judge her or love her, but you won’t know why that was the case. Martin remembers being kneeled on a piece of log, sometimes for hours and until two in the morning. When his head was already fainting and tears of sadness and suffering poured down his cheeks, the liberation then came in the form of tenant Eva who sent little Martin to bed. For some unknown reason, this tenant wasn’t afraid to get involved in the upbringing of a terrorist. Martin remembers the tattoos of this skinny woman. She was former prisoner and had the punk rock star’s hairstyle. She used to bring handsome Vietnamese for the sleep over. Older brother Jurko remembers some more spicy details… She occupied the kid's bedroom, so they were moved to the living room. Ugly Jaro and absent mother never missed on opportunity to earn extra money, even at the expense of the children. So, it wasn’t a surprise they rented out the kid's bedroom. Shockingly enough, they never managed to save. All money went on fine food they loved above all. Even some months passed without them paying utility bills, simply because they went mad whilst grocery shopping. Bills were paid later, of course, including the penalty. They were irresponsible and often got into debt. Not that the kids were eating that much, it was Jaro and mother who shared the same passion for the food or rather feeding frenzy. Perhaps that was the glue sticking them together. Eva was different. She did not eat much, smoked too many cigarettes and drank strong black coffee. She always smelled of sweet perfume and was truly loving towards the children. For kids she was like a radiator, they just felt safe with her, it must have been that warmth of hers. She used to kiss them on the cheeks with her red lipstick on, gave them love, paradoxically more love than their own mother. She hugged them, cuddled them. As if she wanted to compensate it all for them, because she truly was sorry for them. Motherless children, she used to whisper in their ears. Little sweethearts, she called them. No one’s kids, she often shouted when seeing their inadequate mother and stepfather, stuffing their faces with food, whilst kids were growing up in an abuse and as self-upbringers. Eva was wild and she wasn’t afraid of anything. After one party, she had arguments with Jaro’s sisters, she ended up with some scratches on her face, but the next morning told the children that she had beaten everyone. She was brave and inspirational. Unlike mother. Eva wouldn’t just stand there, watching her own kids being smacked with the extension cord. A fucking stranger, beating them in their own house, in the front of their own mother, and until they begged him to stop because the pain was unbearable. Sometimes it was an extension cord and sometimes just belt. There was one day mother actually woke up, for a while, from her lifelong sleep. It was when ugly Jaro knocked little Martin onto the floor and sat on him as if he was fighting an adult. A series of repeated slaps caused this small face turned out to be bruised in the following morning. This caused mother some distraught, she got really angry with Jaro back then, but it was nothing, Jaro knew mother has never been a fighter and can be easily overruled. Mother wasn’t able to rule the household, she just let others to do so. No matter what happened, the very next day, she would just forget it all, usually over the nice dinner. And indeed, couple days later was ugly Jaro enjoying himself again, this time with a wooden spoon, right over the fingers, and repeatedly. One slap once hit so hard that Martin hit the edge of the fish aquarium. Blood started to pour from the forehead. Martin was quickly taken to surgery for a couple of stiches. When the blood started to spray all over the kitchen, ugly Jaro got scared a little bit then, but not for long enough and soon he continued with the tyranny.
As the children slowly grew up, they were more and more able to defend themselves. Jaro’s courage and his dark perversions of punishing little kids who did not belong to him slowly began to subside. Maybe all the quicker with the fact that the mother was about to give birth to his first child, son Igor.
Jaro served the military service in Sumava, Czechoslovak Republic back then. Maybe he himself had a difficult childhood, even though it was said that, of the two other sisters, he was the mother’s sweetheart and also the father took good care of him. He himself never was beaten by his parents. Strange that he took such delight at punishing and almost torturing whereas he himself had never tasted one. It is a mystery as why a tyranny, to which he himself had never been exposed, seemed such right education method to him.
