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Chapter Twenty Eight An Opera in Three Acts But with Five Parts


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again –– with the same amount of detailing as I already had! “So, by a process of elimination, we are to assume since you didn’t say posters and you didn’t say books and whatever, that you did take those? You gave them the food items, but you did take the other items? ? ?”
She –– again –– tried the end – run thingy around directness and, quite instead, answered my question

with two of her own concluding her “final” answer with Bill Clintonesque ridiculousness, “What do you mean by ‘take’? Have in my possession? If I found items that I thought were inappropriate for them to have, if I found letters, mail. I do not think I have any posters.”


Inappropriate? Letters from the Truemaier Boys’ mama which she herself, not at all taking … the step …

in “step” – parent … back …, defined and characterized and judged and, subsequently, eliminated entirely … as for my Truemaier Boys … “inappropriate”! UN – fucking – believable!


A lie of The Not Mother’s which totally pissed me off and one about which I, again, could do absolutely nothing, of course, … because it is that simple in a court of American civil ‘law’ to lie, “You didn’t take a silver chain and throw it in the bathroom trash?” One belonging to Mirzah. One given to him … by me, given to my child, Mirzah, by his own mama, Dr. Legion True? … Naturally?
“No, I didn’t.”
What to do? Squat. I could not do a thing. Not one damn, mother – fucking thing. But Herry’s Next Cunt lied. And, at least, now, … Mirzah knows that, too.
* * * *
Questioning of Mr. Fannie Issicran McLive was nearly completed … and only resulted really in more lies. Still keeping in one’s mind the date of Friday, 21 September 1990, as some freakin’ dude’s idea of a “holy” magical date! … after which I needed to show that “material change” in the custodial situation of my kiddos had occurred, I asked this Next Cunt of Herry’s, “Have you ever told me since that date that … I have a glorified sense of importance of myself?” Me, ya’ know, the Boys’ actual, birthing mama?! Glorified in the sense that I am The Mother! –––– and is or is that not an important enough role in … born – kiddos’ lives?!
“Yes, I have. On the phone. I think I said, ‘You have an exaggerated sense of self.’ ”

“Do you ever recall saying to anyone that just as soon as you can and baseball season in Urbandale was completed in 1991, the best thing for ‘the best interests of these children,’ you and Dr. Edinsmaier had decided, was to move them as far away from their mother as possible?” This male – identified, McLive woman had, indeed, told … same … to several people at the school and at the soccer and baseball practices and games –– in conversations with women only, … that is, with the other moms who had gathered around watching their own children’s play. Men who are not violent would not have placated her loathing enough … to grant Edinsmaier’s Cunt even one listening ear because men –– fathers –– who do not abuse their children’s mothers do not want their kids invisible to –– and entirely gone missing from –– their mamas!


“No,” she lied.
“Have you actively gotten in the car in Urbandale and simply gone up and down the streets patrolling, … looking for the Truemaier Boys?”
“I have gotten in the car. I got in the car in Urbandale several times looking for the Truemaier Boys, when they were 30 to 45 minutes late, or when I perceived that there was something wrong,” right after which statement Ms. Fannie Issicran McLive continued with, “Frequently that was when I saw you circling the house or when I had phone calls from the school or from the Downshim Laboratory that you were in the area. Specifically a time,” and she herself used the verb “patrolled”! … “Specifically a time I patrolled was when you took Mirzah off a bus, and he was not home.”
Well, that which the Nottingham Sheriff had just sworn herself to was … in part, was … sorta the way in which my youngest and I had met up! Sorta, I say. I had partly participated in something like the blather which Ms. Fannie Issicran McLive used, from the witness stand, to try describing our gathering, but Mirzah? Mirzah was not even on or … anywhere near … a bus. A schoolbus … I presume she had meant. Mirzah, from exiting the Karen Farmer Schoolhouse doorway, had just come on over to the Shitbox Dodge. And, together, we two had taken off to a nearby McDonalds … for an afterschool snack, those nefarious! fries and cheeseburgers! Whoooooa. How incredibly criminal of us both, I know! McDonalds! To the lions with me! To the rack with that ex – cunt!
Her lies were literally exhausting me! –– Utterly!
The televisions in the home were, according to the She – Liar, “frequently never on.” Noooot according to the Truemaier Boys. According to all of them … to Zane, Jesse and Mirzah, the household’s two working televisions were quite the opposite! and exactly … never off!
The She – Liar prescreened R – rated movies –– ooooonly … she really did not. A funny hah – hah thing happened on the way to one answer, though! “So, do you, because of your conviction on this matter, not allow Jesse to go over to friends’ homes when they are viewing movies that you don’t approve of?”
“I don’t tell Jesse no.” Then … from Ms. McLive’s lower – facial, frontal orifice came one of Mehitable’s special, special verbs –– straight out of my own mother’s textbook on how women can teach themselves to softly and servilely remain a first – rate, mightily male – identified female, “I defer in the discipline of the three Truemaier Boys to their father. And support what their father says.”
Since when?!
“Since whatever the date of our marriage.”
“Our mawwiage?” Wha’? Whaaaaat did she say?! By accident or as near to unintentionally as I could tell, she had just made the word sound like it had come from out of the mouth of Actor Billy Crystal in his wole of performing the wedding cewemony in that classic and wonderfully funny film … “The Pwincess Bwide!”
I nearly burst into guffaws! But had to, instead, counter another of her gazillion falsehoods … more soberly with, “Dr. Edinsmaier was not around, is it not true? From maybe January 1991, until November 1991?”
“Aaawh, that’s right.”
“So. Disciplining and deferring of fathering matters or of parenting matters were put off … were they?”
“Aaawh, no. Aaawh, we decided together. He set the course for his children.” That was weally, weally funny, too! Herry ‘setting’ anything that smacked of work, let alone, work regarding my children. He was their Joy Toy, 17 – year – old, older brother – Boy! She went on, “I was –– ” when I did cut her off.
“He wasn’t there!”
And, of course, Mr. Shindy Scheisser was not pleased with me, “Juuuust a moment. She interrupted the witness.” That I, indeed, had done.
She went right on, anyway, “I was the person, if you want to use the word ‘enforcer’,” Whoooa! Ms. Fannie Issicran McLive had just said that! Ms. McLive had actually just admitted to playing the role of the Sheriff of Nottingham and to willingly and happily participating in the folie à deux with Herod who acted as the absentee King –– off and away from the kingdom on a lark or a crusade or whereeverdafuck he went off to

–– the King who certainly was not at home doing the hard, hard work of fathering or of parenting! Or, even of leading! To daJudge, to Judge Harley Butcher, her mouth and words had just proved another of my exact pieces of “material substance change.” Herry was not home parenting –– as he had promised he would be! … Back before that blackest of mythically magical dates, 21 September 1990, during Act Two!


The Liar finished that speech, “ … if you want to use the word ‘enforcer’, I was the person to try to carry out my husband’s wishes. And I still might see myself as that role. I think it is the biological parent’s role in a step situation to be the disciplinarian.” Fuck! Did she just say, “step”? And, the funniest ever: did the McLive Stepper just call me or was she referring to JTB – Herry, the Joy – Toy – Boy as, a “disciplinarian”?!
More funny – hah hahs followed, “So, every time that I would call and Dr. Edinsmaier was there, did you, Ms. McLive, let me talk to him? Did you say, ‘O, the biological parent is here, the Truemaier Boys’ father. And the biological mother, Dr. True, is calling so, so this call is not for me,’ and then did you put the phone down and ‘step’ back like the ‘step’ in stepparent means to do –– until Herod came to pick it up and talk to me? Or … or, Ms. McLive, did you in fact and instead act as a go – between?” The answer to which, of course, everyone in the courtroom including Judge Butcher and sitting outside of it in the hallways either in support of me or sequestered there before testifying –– all of us –– already knew!
I almost couldn’t contain my laughter when she tried the question – with – a – question route, “Are you asking me if I disciplined my husband?” Not that he didn’t need it! I know from experience that … that he most certainly did!!! “My husband is not a child.”
“O, O but he is! Herry is exactly that! And, you too, … you, Ms. Fannie Issicran McLive, you well know it, don’t you?! That is why you just said … what it is you just said!” my thoughts were sooo nodding to myself.
“So, if there was –– Wha’? What?! Are you winking at me?!” she abruptly exclaimed back at me! Some ditherer, too, this particular woman. As Mehitable. Of course, I wasn’t. I believe the woman was trying to buy herself some extra time … to think … were she capable of such an exercise! “Excuse me. Aaah, um, um, I lost my concentration. Would you repeat the question? I thought you were asking me if I was disciplining my husband,” and she full – well did know why, had I been asking that question, it would’ve indeed been quite a valid one to ask! Herry was a child –– and she had been long enough with him to have now formed that opinion in her very own mind herself! Else, she wouldn’t have thought that the hint of that exact idea was there in my question in the first place! Arrested development!!! As is any usual Joy – Toy – Boy.
I stated, “I was asking if when I called and asked to speak to the children, did you say to yourself, ‘This is a situation between the biological parents?’ Or, did you in fact and in stead act as a go – between –– between

–– the two biological parents?”


“Aahh, when you called and asked for my husband,” which was always the case when I called because it seemed Dr. Herod Edinsmaier, a physician never on call apparently, simply refused to answer telephones at his home because not one time did he –– and this was long before caller – ID came into being, “if my husband was there, I said, ‘Herry, it’s Legion.’ ”
And what, pray tell, … “What was his reply to you at all times?” Every last one of them.
“He would say, ‘I don’t want to talk to her.’ ” That was not a lie! Hallelujah! Praise the goddesses! And in my mind’s ear I could just hear his tiny – man, whiny – high pitch about it, too, “I don’ wanna talk to her! Nah – nah – nah – nah … nah!”
Ms. Fannie Issicran McLive, too, like Herry’s behavior, acted like a little schoolgirl about to get caught in a lie but, by her teeth, escaping the catch. I must have unexpectedly thwacked the air of the courtroom with, “Do you have any knowledge about who it was that first contacted the Ames Tribune on September 24, 1990?”
O! O! O! O!, did we ever –– all of us –– immediately hear from Mr. Shindy Scheisser, “Irrelevant, Your Honor!”
But I went on, despite his shout, anyhow, “… about the publication on September 25th, subsequently of the article that appeared about me?”
Mr. Scheisser screamed, “TOTALLY irrelevant! We spent a lot of time on this. It has nothing to do with her modification action!” .  He stated Legion had lost the Boys but had not ‘hit bottom’ yet -- -- not until she had lost her home and food
“Your Honor, it goes to motive.” Material motive of the Good and Wonderful Healer’s and of hers, of course, to keep me frickin’ … without materials, to keep me mother – fucked, … particularly without money! Poor! Relatedly, as Thuggish Daddee had nonchalantly mentioned to Grace Portia, all that while having me, against my will, holed up those weeks and imprisoned inside his SpaChezResort Jail … that Legion had lost the Boys but had “not hit bottom yet” – – not until she had lost her home and food! That motive … my query about the mother – fuck of the Ames Tribune … soooo goes to!
Judge Butcher was heard to eventually state, “Well, go ahead and answer.”
But Ms. Fannie Issicran McLive questioned – the – question … again … instead of outright answering it –– trying to secure for herself more time for a way outta this one, “Do I have any knowledge about who did it?”
“Yes. About who it was that first contacted the Ames Tribune?”
Her infamous line of unaccountability, for not holding herself responsible, let alone, culpable for killing my chances as a veterinarian, academician or researcher, “No, I do not. I have no idea.” Two years after the article’s publication and all of the murderous damning that it did to the Boys, to me and to Reporter Gaffey –– and Ms. McLive has “no idea” who? It is that simple, Jury. It truly, truly is. To lie and to deceive, depending upon who you are and what your pedigree is and to whom you are connected –– such as a physician pillar, in an American court of family law, that is literally all that it takes. Just get it said. Under oath, “I have no idea.” And suddenly, then, this fuck becomes “testimony”, now “evidence” –– and Herry and Mr. Scheisser get clean, slick away with ruining my career opportunities forever, their purposeful perfect, utter humiliation to the three of us Truemaiers and to me! Not to mention, my merely managing to get next month’s rent paid!
* * * *
I grew even more cynical, too abraded with her fuckly antics to continue anymore with the cuntly Ms. Fannie Issicran McLive. True it was: I gave up on her.
Mr. Shindy Scheisser took his turn with her, that is, his cross examination. All of it, of course, glowing reports of her and Herry’s magnificent step – parenting and fathering of the Truemaier Boys –––– humans whom I, alone, had … chosen to … grow into … themselves!

Or, Shyster Scheisser’s cross of Ms. McLive centered on how heinous and harmful was their mother by my having a thing to do with Mirzah, Zane and Jesse –– with letters particularly sent to –– my very own Boys.


One particularly telling example of a mother’s desperation in trying to keep in contact with her babies when the Sperm Donor and the Next Cunt in his Stash lays waste to her came in the cross dialogue about the Grubtrop United States Post Office box and the 800 telephone number, both of which services cost money to rent and to subscribe to at that time. “There’s been testimony about a post office box obtained by Dr. True for the children in West Virginia, and an 800 number obtained by Dr. True to have the children call her in Ames, when you moved them all away to West Virginia. Did you approve either one of those?” Using my actual, earned title and surname with which to identify me –– finally! for the court reporter, Attorney Shindy Scheisser actually asked this of Ms. Fannie Issicran McLive –– as if she evidently had had decreed authority to grant and to sanction my comings and goings, my thinkings and doings for the Boys! He just got it said, just got it asked. Therefore, by his simply stating this assumption –– out loud in a courtroom –– that the Not Mother owned such power, why, that must have made it okay for her to even think that she had any say – so or any right –– to approve or to not approve of my acquiring these services in order to try to reach my children!
“No, I did not approve either one of those.” Period!
“Did Dr. True consult you before obtaining either one of those?” Assumed Mr. Shindy Scheisser did that the Nottingham Sheriff, by her coupling in a mawwiage to the Kingdom’s King Herod, had had such authority of which I, the Truemaier Boys’ Real Ma, had first needed to seek out –– regarding these two!
“No, she did not.” Period!
“Did the children tell you about either one of those?” That was noooot likely!
“No, they did not.” Period! And that I did believe!
“Did you discover both of these? Or, how did you discover the post office box?” Mr. Scheisser finally got around to making his point.
“I think actually my husband discovered the post office box, or together we did. Zane had a letter in his jacket, and it didn’t say ‘322 Lawson’ on it. It said ‘post office box number.’ And I believe his father asked him. I did go to the post office, and I spoke with a postmaster there then. And another woman and asked them about this. And we gave them a letter stating we wished to have that box closed, and asked the children. And they did admit there was a post office box, and that they had gotten a letter, I believe they said.”
One letter was all that made it through –– for the box’s $20 rental fee –– one. Before Mother – Fucking Herry shut it down! Before Herry had apparently had the right –– via His Henchwoman – Sheriff –– to make the federal government in the form of the United States Post Office remove access to any form of my free speech right to my own children! I have often wondered, since, if I could walk in to some USPS fortress of federal authority somewhere and demand to have shut down the post office boxes of Herry – Daddee Edinsmaier at where he receives his pornography materials. The “materials” –– with which the Good and Wonderful Doctor – Daddee criminally purveys, as “healing teacher,” … to my minor sons. Reverse / flip the genders, ya’ know, Jury. Would that, d’yo’s’pose, regarding the First Amendment work? Would it work, as Andrea Dworkin declares that it needs to, for me, the woman? “If the First Amendment does not work for women,” says she, “then it simply … does not work!” As well, so states … I!
Mr. Scheisser asked further, “What about the 800 number? How did you discover that?”
“I discovered the 800 number when I came home from mass with my husband, and was given a square piece of paper by my daughter, Mary Jane, that said on it ‘West Virginia State Police.’ The police came over to our house. The boys must have been in bed. Mary Jane was downstairs, and the police came to the door and gave her this slip of paper. And she handed it to us when we walked in. And it said something about Legion True trying to get in touch with the boys. I think it said ‘family emergency’ or somehow we were led to believe it was a family emergency.”
“And it had an 800 number?”
“Yes, yes, it did.”
“And what did you do?”
“We dialed it.” I guess Zane, Jesse and Mirzah –– all –– must have still been asleep. They did not greet the WV Blues; and Minor Mary Jane, completely in inmates’ – like, choreographed, synchronized … and DEhumanizing … lockstep with her step – King – Daddee, most certainly did not … first … give to my Boys the note from the police. It appeared that they still were not privy to the telephone number, let alone, ever able to actually use it to themselves … reach me!
“And what did you hear?”
“We got Legion.”
“She answered the phone?”
“Yes, yes, she did! And in hindsight, I wished we would have had the presence of mind to say something.

I was just dumbfounded. I thought I was calling the State Police. And, instead, I was calling Legion!”


The incredible lengths we mothers have to go to in order to even … try … to stay in our children’s lives.
“Did you terminate the phone conversation then, or the call I mean?”
“I hung up the phone. And I assume my husband did. I think I hung up the phone first.”
The Boys never one time used the 800 number for which I continued to pay … for years to come.
Hope, as I have many, many times stated, is an addiction. How could they have known that I did that –– when they had never even known of the telephone number’s existence? And how would I have known differently either? Extra – terrestrially? Through ET? Ms. Fannie Issicran McLive’s “testimony” that day was the first “evidence” with which I myself had learned that Mirzah, Jesse and Zane had never known that

I had been soooo hoping that –– from anywhere –– there was at least one telephone available for their use ––so that my Boys would be able just … … just “to phone home.”


But … then it was finally my turn with Herry!
Herry swears apparently. That is, it does not matter to him that he, before testifying, swears or affirms.

The record stated that Herod Edinsmaier was “first duly sworn by the Court.”


I received sort of a send – off from Judge Butcher, “Whenever you are ready, Dr. True.”
I began, “Are you the father of Zane Truemaier and Mirzah Truemaier and Jesse Truemaier?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Where are they?”
“They are in West Virginia. Specifically, they should be in school right now. Grubtrop Middle School and Grubtrop High School.”
“In whose care are they at this hour?” I asked.
“Let’s see, we retain two people to be in the household at all times when we are gone. One’s name, Karin Richardson. The other’s name is Cheryl Bowen, I believe.”
Huh? “I believe?” Either the Brilliant Doctor knew or he did not know. Their names! Did he or did he not know, at the least!, their names?!
Zap! “Where were they at the end of August, when you were sitting here in Storm County, at the time of trial?” I asked of the Truemaier Boys’ primary – “caretaking” daddee, Herry – Daddee!
“School had not yet begun then. They were also in the care of two women who were there. We had arranged to have someone at the house at all times.”
“JYeah? JYeah, well, maybe you had, Dr. Herod Edinsmaier, maybe you had. But you, allegedly,

O Brilliant One, you could not remember their names, could you? So, if you couldn’t even remember the DEhumans’ names, then how do you know one or the other of the two women even came 24 / 7 to my Boys … and came to them with credentials?!!!” That was just me thinking; of course, I really did not say that stream out loud. After all, none of them in the courtroom would have acknowledged what a DEhuman is although all of them only treated me and the Boys’ childcare providers as though we are that … DEhuman!


“One was Karin Richardson. And the other was, O gosh, her name is Tammy. I can’t recall her last name right now.”
“You don’t know her last name?!” This I did ask out loud! Loudly! O Brilliant “Caretaking” Daddee!
“No. I have it at home.”

“So, you don’t know this woman very well?”


“Well, I know her well enough. I have gotten references about her and enough to be satisfied that she was reliable, and she proved to be.”
But you don’t remember her last name?!” Granting that she may have been a good caretaker which, of course, was not at all known or granted! … but just given that, anyhow, how would he still
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