Whether this will turn out to be just a blog post, a short story, a non-fiction article, or a book, only time will tell. I can tell all you Theater Queens that it will not turn into a musical, like "A Chorus Line," because, first, the material is not suited, and second, the amount of characters consists of one family, and a group of maybe, half a dozen, school age children.
Back when I was fourteen, or fifteen, and creative, movie mad, and all that, I thought the gold standard for having a nervous breakdown was Natalie Wood in "Splendor In The Grass, " having seen the film for the first time around this time. Of course, with age comes the knowledge that it is the gold standard for acting, but in reality a nervous breakdown can be more complicated than that.
Which leads me to someone I once knew who supposedly had one. A school classmate, named Roxanne.
I say supposed because I do not have all the facts. Here is what I do have.
In second grade at Irving School, because we were seated next to each other, Roxanne and I became fast friends. She was a tallish, lanky looking little girl, with short, black hair, doe eyes, and a very vulnerable look. When she morphed into young womanhood, she retained all this; she may not have been a stunner, like Roberta, but she was what one might call mildly pretty. Back then, she had a good sense of humor; I recall, in second grade, us discussing "The Wizard Of Oz" (still my all time favorite movie!!!!!!!!) and I recall her saying the part she liked best was when the witch melted.
But I also recall something that happened in second grade, between she and a girl, she had been friends with, Linda Wilson. One afternoon, we discussed the situation, as a class; I recall Roxanne was there, because she explained a lot. I am not sure if Linda was there, because she might have been too upset to come back. I remember Roxanne saying how she and her family had always treated Linda well, that when she did something they disapproved of, they always gave her another chance, but that they had reached the end of their rope with her. That is as much as I know, but I still recall this vividly.
Grades moved up, we got older, and as we went from the lower grades to junior high, the Irving kids were torn assunder, sent in different directions, onto different academic tracks, and paths, as I was. Which means Roxanne and I did not see much of each other, during these years, But there came a time, somewhere around eighth or ninth grade, when Roxanne was heard about.
One spring, after school, I went with my mother, to St. Peter's Hospital. To my best recollection, she was visiting someone she knew who was convalescing there. She had me wait in the lobby; I, of course, had a book, so that was no problem, as it gave me a chance to read.
As I was doing such, along came one of my Irving friends, Linda Johnson, then working as a candy striper. She took some time to sit and chat; we talked about the present, the old days at Irving, when, suddenly, out of the blue, Linda asked, "Did you hear what happened to Roxanne?" I said no, and, in Linda's own words, she said, "she had a nervous breakdown." I was stunned, because, as she said this, I instantly pictured Natalie Wood as Deanie Loomis, but that did not jive with my image of Roxanne. I have to say, being mildly pretty, had I been in any way straight, I might have been attracted to her. But dating someone from that part of town? Would my parents have allowed it? I wonder; in retrospect, I think they would have been thrilled, just for the fact it was heterosexual!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I wanted to know more, but I didn't ask, nor did I ask Linda. What did she mean? Had Roxanne been hospitalized? What was the diagnosis? And what was the cause?
It was only in recent recollections--a fervid time when I was having trouble sleeping, and when I did, images of Roxanne appeared in my dreams--that a cause came back to me. Linda had said the Kay Sisters had something to do with it.
The Kay Sisters were twins, Donna and Diane. They came to us in third grade, at Irving, and both had speech problems. Donna, in our class, had hearing problems, so we were told, when talking to her, to speak up, so she could hear. For reasons I cannot fathom, nor can I recall who named them, they were quickly dubbed "the Killer Kays!!!!!!!!!" And children, passing them would yell out, "Killer Kay!" and go rat-a-tat-tat, at them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
They were unusual. For one thing, no one knew where they came from, or who their father was. The woman supposedly their mother, who was raising them,, lived with them in one of those garden apartments in the Goat Alley area of town; I have no idea how she supported herself and those girls. But it was her look that was disturbing. If there had been a casting call, back then, for the role of Margaret White in "Carrie," Mrs. Kay would have made the final cut! She had long, stringy, white hair, and thick horned rimmed glasses, that made her look older, less a mother and more a grandmother or spinster aunt. Who, for all I know, she might have been. She also raised those girls on a fervent religiosity; I would see them all in St. Paul's Church on Sunday, and, of course, they were with me in catechism. I could picture Mrs. Kay, locking them in their rooms, making them pray for hours, suffering the true Catholic suffering, bodies pain wracked from scrubbing floors. By the time of eighth or ninth grade, those of us who knew them--and I was one--thought they would end up as either nuns or Catholic lay spinsters; think Eleanor Rigby in the Beatles song.
But they didn't. They both got married, and I think both have children. Go figure!
But what of poor Roxanne? What could the Killer Kays have said to this vulnerable girl, that sent her over the edge???? I bet it had something to do with the evils of sex; they would have thought that way at this time, and you know the mother (or whatever) did, and they conveyed this to Roxanne, who, for all I know, may have been dating someone none of us knew about, or was struggling with feelings of sexuality, that all girls that age do--and this is what happened.
I wish I had known more about this. I wish I could have talked to Roxanne, so I could have stuck up for her. I wish I could have told the Kays what killers they were. They still are; they are Republicans!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
As for Roxanne, I figured she would spend the rest of her life, on Karsey Street, in Highlland Park, as a spinster. But she did not. For one thing, she is now residing in the midst of Nowhere--a town called Lincoln, Maine, which I had never heard of, till recently. For anther, the local Motor Lodge, is run by a woman named Melissa Sue Troulis, who is 35, which makes her old enough to be Roxanne's daughter. And her parents are up there, still alive--the father, 90. the mother 88.
So many things to ponder.
What was done to Roxanne those many years ago?
How does someone from Highland Park, NJ, end up in Lincoln, Maine?
Why?
And is there anyone out there who can clear this up for me? Roxanne?
Linda Wilson? Linda Johnson? The Killer Kays? Tell me what you know; even if it's just for me to MMOB.
But, rest assured, I will not rest, until the truth comes out! It is always better when it does!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And, beware those Killer Kays!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
