A Bit of History

        In 1959, in a small town on the south sea-shore of Ukraine, in a small hospital a woman sat screaming on a hospital bed. Sweat was pouring down her face as she laid screaming in Ukrainian at her husband cowering in the corner. “what the fuck have you done to me!!!!” screamed the woman. She knew what he had done and she had been a willing participant at the time but 9 months later she was a bit perturbed. She was fat, constantly nauseous, and felt like she was passing a watermelon through her lady parts.  

The labor lasted only a few hours but was extremely painful due to the size of the new born infant. Wilbur Pestrall was a large child but a quiet one. He rarely cried and a giggle was even more rare. At the age of two Wilbur was forcibly moved from his home in Ukraine to a new home outside of Montreal, Canada. Wilbur’s father was offered a new job in the city where he would be hired to build new skyscrapers. the family first traveled to England, where they lived for about a week, and then took a large boat over to the Canada. 

As Wilbur grew up he learned english as his first language while still learning some Ukrainian and using it around the house. he went to school and studied hard and then went to an American University where he studied Structural Engineering and Architecture and later became what his father had been and began to design and build Skyscrapers. 

In 1983 Wilbur moved back to Montreal for a job he had received and that’s when he Met his future Wife, Helena Bondaruk.

In 1961 Helena was born in a small town in Mississippi. Helena’s mother was a stay at home wife and mother. Mrs. Bondaruk grew up in in England and Mr. Bondaruk in the Ukraine. Both parents were very traditional in a time that being conservative was not the in thing to do. This was very difficult for Mrs. Bondaruk, who always had to be in and hip. It was then that her whole outlook changed! she began throwing elaborate parties not just for her but for her daughter as well, she began purchasing high fashion such as fur coats and stoles. 

At one of the infamous Bondaruk parties in 1977 A slew of Helena’s school friends arrived at the house. The children, most friends, some acquaintances, were sent down to the basement rec. room  where they were told to eat all the food presented, for some reason, on fine china dishes. About an hour into the party Frankie Wilsbourgh appeared upstairs in front of Mr. Bondaruk’s leather armchair. 

Frankie was a skinny boy who wore very wide rimmed glasses and seemed to have some problems speaking through his retainer, he would be lopped in with the acquaintances portion of the party.

“Um, Mr. Bondaruk? I finished the plate of cookies and was wondering if you had anymore?” Mr. Bondaruk looked down at the plate and recognized it immediately. Rather than answering the boy’s question he called his wife and daughter in from the kitchen, where they were performing hostess duties.  Helena had to everything not to burst out laughing and her mother almost had to pick her chin up off the floor. 

Frankie explained he had eaten all the cookies and would like some more. “of course dear just on second” Mrs. Bondaruk walked as swiftly as she could into the kitchen with Helena close at her heels the two women began to laugh so hard they almost cried. “Well he certainly seemed to like them,” Helena said to her daughter between laughs “shall we give him some more?” Helena could only nod and retrieve the “cookies” that were desired. As they poured the dog biscuits onto the plate from the basement their tears began to role down their faces as they continued to laugh.

Eventually Helena attended American college and then promptly moved to canada to have some fun with her girlfriends from school, it was there that she met Wilbur Pestrall.

Mr and Mrs. Pestrall met in a dark bar in Montreal and fell head over heels for each other. Bear in mind that both were very drunk and probably didn’t really get very well acquainted before Wilbur brought his future wife back to his apartment downtown.  In the morning they both woke up and introduced themselves for a second time since neither could remember the night before. 

although neither could remember and there were no witnesses it can be assumed the initial conversation went something like this. 

Wilbur: hey thdhere seccxyr (Hey there sexy)

Future Mrs. Pestrall: wehjrge hbfg i helssenddfat (well hello, I’m Helena)

Wilbur: well houd ou like to come to my place tunight? (well how would you like to come back to my place tonight)

Helena: wellsyoussesemlikesasniceenougshguyandyouaregsoodlookinssoyeahwshynot (well you seem like a nice enough guy and you are good looking so yeah why not)

The next morning was sufficiently awkward but the fledgling couple soon recovered over a cup of coffee and about a pack of cigarettes each. A few years later they were engaged to be married and then shortly after that Dorothy found herself pregnant.   Their first child was named Allison and was an extremely quiet baby, usually paying attention only to her toe and finger and the immense amazement that they brought her. A year the first of the three boys was born. 

Matthew was a bit more energetic and more of a pain than the now year old Allison. two years later was when Arron was born and the Family moved to a small little town in New Jersey. Their house had three bed rooms, a finished basement, one bathroom, and two half bathrooms (for those who don’t know that is a toilet and a sink) The house was pristine and for about a year it stayed that way. Dorothy Gave up her clerical job to become a stay at home mom to her three kids. 

When Allison was 4 her youngest brother Max was born. Everything was relatively normal for about one year. Dorothy was always busy with laundry and cooking and dishes and she was damn good at it too. If there was one thing Mrs. Pestrall knew how to do better than anything else it was raising kids. 

Then shit hit the fan. At about two years old The Pestrall’s began to realized that Max was not developing at the same rate as their first few children.  They went to a few doctors who told them not to worry about that he was not sick and he was just taking his time. When he refused to be potty trained or talk within the next year they knew something was wrong. Max was diagnosed with Autism. Helena was confused because she always thought of autism as a socially crippling disease and Max was the most social of all the Pestrall children. “He is A-Typical” the doctor told them but reassured them that he was in fact autistic. 

The family continued to live and survive and in the process adopt two cats, 6 bunnies, a family of raccoons living in their backyard, 4 wholes in the ceiling, and a lot of laundry and dishes. Now they just enjoy life and relax with friends. 

Meet the Pestralls!

The tree

The Pestralls awoke to a Loud Bang and a terrifying crashing sound. “What the FUCK was that!!” 

Mr. Pestrall leaped out of bed and jumped to his feet. Mr. Pestrall was a large man with Dark reddish brown hair and a rather large Mustache. Max stirred awake with a long groan and a kick in Mrs. Pestralls direction. 

“Wilbur shush, I’m sure it was just a car or something.” 

“Bullshit! that was too loud. to be some god damn fucking car.” 

A knock on the door quickly quieted them. Helena Pestrall got up and straightened her pajama bottoms and t-shirt. “Wilbur, put on a shirt.” Mr. Pestrall returned to his bed ignoring his wife’s request as per usual. When the door opened Allison Pestrall was standing in the door way soaked and wearing her coat and scarf. “Allison did you go outside? is it raining?” 

“you should come downstairs.” was all Allison could say after all it was 3 in the morning and she had been awake for 3 days, not counting an hour or two here and there which just resulted in a feeling of further grogginess. The seriousness in Allison’s voice scared Mrs. Pestrall more than her husbands naked chest and more than when Max eats a toxic candle. 

“Wilbur! put on a fucking shirt and come down stairs with me.” 

“Let me take care of Max i’ll meet you down there.”

Wilbur Pestrall Picked up his 14 year old son and began to dress him. First he took off the pajama bottoms then he took off the shirt and that’s when the fight began. socks were being ripped out of mouths and and pants were being kicked about the room. Finally Wilbur secured his son and was able to get a pair of pants on him and a t-shirt, but everything stopped when Mrs. Pestralls scream echoed through the entire house. 

Max struggled out of wilbur’s grip and made a b-line toward the door on his toes. Wilbur threw on a wife beater as quick as he could and ran after his son down the stairs. It was cold downstairs, which wouldn’t be a surprise but for the wind. 

Wind in the house was never a good thing Mr. Pestrall thought. Wilbur turned the corner and found what should be the kitchen. In it’s place was a rather Large tree and a lot of water. The tree seemed to have been ripped down and thrown into the kitchen wall by the high powered winds. “what the fuck is going on?!” Wilbur shouted. Rain and wind were prevalent in the open space. Allison was standing in the middle of the room comforting her sobbing mother and keeping a tight hold on her younger brother. Arron and Matthew were also in attendance both trying to stay as far away from the tree and rain as possible.  

“I was downstairs!” Arron said rather defensively, as if he was being blamed for the severe weather conditions. 

“well,” Allison said to her now calm mother, “at least you can get the new kitchen that you wanted.” 

Matthew giggled and walked out of the room as the family began to return to their  evening routine of booze, cigarettes and television.

Good morning star shine!

Allison Pestrall pulled the large red comforter farther up her body so that it covered her face. The incesant knocking continued dispite her attempts to disapear from the world.

“What?!” she shouted at the door spewing rage with every letter. 

“Get up and help us, the bus will be here in 15 minutes and Max doesn't want to cooperate this morning.” Her father said from the other side of the door. His voice was low and loud, even through the wooden door covered in random paraphernalia. 

“Fuck Off, Get Arron to do it.” Allison said rolling back over and pulling the blankets back up.

“He’s feeding the rabbits and Matthew is in the shower. Stop being so fucking lazy.” Allison heard her father’s heavy footsteps as he walked away from the room. He was obviously angry but she knew not at her. Arron, probably, he always pisses Dad off most. Oh well. Allison hopped out of bed and started a mad dash search for the pants she had worn the day before. She threw her shirts and assorted other crap all over the place. It would be helpful if I could see the floor, she thought throwing a handful of captain crunch under the bed ill have to vacuum later. 

Finally she found her Pants amongst her Hunter S Thompson books and various  british indie rock CDs. She threw them on as fast as she could and put on her prescription aviators, Tinted blue at the top and then gradually turning clear on the way down. She threw aside the black towel she used to keep the light out of the room and opened the door as much as she could despite the astronomical amount of crap in front of it. 

Alison walked out into the hallway and found her cat trotting around in front of the bathroom door. His showers take too fucking long, she thought thinking unhappily about her brothers and the mess they always made in the communal bathroom. I’ll probably have to clean the whole fucking room again. Allison had been plagued with OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) for years now, any notes taken during school were written at least four times and no doodle went unfinished, Art projects on the other hand had been unfinished quite often. She kept her toothbrush in her room on the bookshelf, far away from the disgusting bathroom and from her disgusting brothers. Whenever taking a shower she would spend at least 15 to 20 minutes mopping the floor and cleaning the shower first. 

“Max NO!” 

Allison walked away from the bathroom and headed down the stairs trying not to think about the disgusting floor where she would have to go next. She walked downstairs to find her younger brother Max running around in his pullup and underwear, he had one of the cat’s toys in his mouth and was being closely followed by his mother. “Allison! Catch him” her mother shouted.  Allison jumped off the stairs and held her almost 15 year old brother in her arms. 

Max was diagnosed with sever autism at a very early age. He also had ADHD, OCD, and Pica (an eating disorder in which he would eat anything he could get his hands on). If Max ran around a table once he would keep doing it until someone else stopped him or something new caught his eye, He could not speak and had the maturity of a toddler. 

“Hey there little buddy” Allison said looking down into her younger brother’s glazed eyes. He responded with a gurgling sound that meant he was pleased. Allison’s mom walked over and helped put Max’s pants on him while Allison held on for dear life. “what time is it?” Allison asked realizing she had forgotten to look at the clock when she had woken up.

“It’s around 10:45,” Allison’s mom answered now struggling to put on Max’s left shoe, “ the bus gets here at 11.” 

Alright so that’s 3 hours, which I suppose is 2 more than last night so that’s good. What did I take last night? Allison wondered. She had spent the evening before sitting on the couch in her pajamas, drinking a Mike’s Hard Lemonade, and watching old cartoons. Allison’s vice was popping pills. Prescriptions went faster in the pestrall house than bread, which went pretty fast, especially when Max got his hands on it. I’ll have to take inventory when I’m done with this.

The Bus didn’t arrive till 10 after giving Max an extra 10 minutes to run around finding things to eat and for Allison and her mother to chase after him. The bus finally did arrive and with the help of the Jamaican bus driver with dreadlocks the family was able to achieve the lofty goal of seating max on the bus. When the bus finally departed Mrs. Pestrall retired to the kitchen followed by her daughter. She reached over the sink and grabbed a pack of cigarettes, she shook out the smoke from the package and lit it up, Allison had only tried cigarettes once and remembered the disgusting taste of coffee grounds burning her mouth, but she did love the smell. 

“If you want there are some waffles in the fridge.” Allison reached into the tiny refrigerator overfilled with food, mostly Matthew’s. Fat ass she thought grabbing the hidden box of waffles from behind the giant KFC bucket. She walked past her mother and into the small hallway leading from the kitchen to the dining room. Due to the over stuffing of the kitchen this hallway had become a pit filled with anything that just didn’t fit; dishes, a microwave, a toaster, miscellaneous phone chargers, and plenty of food. Allison grabbed two waffles out of the box and put them in the toaster. 

She pushed down the black lever on the side of the old metal gadget and waited for the light to turn on, it didn’t. “Son of a bitch!” 

“What’s up?” Mrs. Pestrall asked walking over putting her cigarette out in a slightly filled water bottle.

“The fucking toaster won’t work,” Allison said in the whining voice she always used when talking to her mother. 

Allison’s mom reached over the toaster and plugged it into the wall socket. “there you go.” 

Fucking cheap ass, Allison thought about the most likely culprit to unplug the toaster. Wilbur Pestrall was constantly unplugging appliances and turning off lights, he was also known to turn off the heat to save money in winter. “Light a fucking fire” would be his immediate response to any complaint. 

Allison trudged back up the stairs and into her room. She shut the door pushed the towel underneath and climbed across the room and into her bed. Once in bed she hit a snag in her plan. She couldn’t sleep. Shit! Allison could never sleep but was always tired. She reached over to the bookcase next to her bed and grabbed one of many orange prescription bottles. 

She found the desired bottle and poured out two or three Melatonin pills. These pills could, and were quite frequently, purchased at the local health food store. Allison then noticed the overbearing cold in the room. She looked down at the ground and saw the exact item of clothing she was looking for.  

Allison groaned and got back out of bed to pick up and subsequently put on the large wooly Polo jacket. Allison succeeded at her goal and got back into bed. And then came another knock at her door.

“Allison! Come help me shovel there’s a foot of snow out there!!” Mr. Pestrall shouted through the door again. 

Allison rolled over and shouted back “Go Away!”

She fell back to sleep.