Plastic Universe

I just read an article in the Los Angeles Times, and it apparently came from an alternate universe. According to this article, Tim Powers remembers an incident that never happened.

The LA Times reported interviewed me extensively, but he does not present anything that I told him. Tim Powers was not there, and it did not happen that way.

Yet, according to this article, Tim Powers was there, and it was at an apartment (not the house where it really happened), and supposedly my brother and I were taking all the furniture.

Perhaps this world is unreal, and events can change in the mists of time. Or perhaps this is a reinvention of the story that Phil used to tell about the day Nancy left him.

You can read the Times article here:,0,2001774,full.story

And now you can read the real story:

After reading yet another fantastic and completely fabricated account of my husband’s suicide attempt, I have decided that it is time that I told the full story of what happened that day.

One morning in February of 1976, I took our two-year-old son to preschool as usual, then attended a class at the local community college from 9 to 10 a.m. When I returned home, Phil was agitated and pacing around. He demanded that I leave immediately, so his new girlfriend could move into the house. I believe that the mood elevators which his psychiatrist had prescribed were causing his agitation, and he was beginning to get violent. He began throwing things around the living room, and he threatened to kill me if I did not walk out right away. So I walked out.

I called my brother, and that afternoon he and his wife came with me to the house, so I could get my clothes and the baby’s clothes and toys. My brother stood outside the front door, while my sister-in-law went into the house with me. It took us two trips to get the clothes and toys and load them into my car. The whole time, Phil and K.W. Jeter were sitting on the couch, drinking and talking. Jeter glared at me when I walked by. His expression was a mixture of hatred and contempt.

I was planning to stay with my parents until I got on my feet, but the next morning I learned that Phil was in the hospital, having attempted suicide. I went back to the house, where I found a note from Phil’s girlfriend telling me to buy cat food and take some clean clothes to Phil. She had taken Phil’s little Fiat sports car and my gasoline credit card. There was no sign that she had moved into my house, so I stayed there and cleaned up the mess that Phil had made when he tried to kill himself. I also bought cat food, and then I bought some brand new clothes for Phil and took them to the hospital. He stayed in the mental ward for about two weeks, and I took our son to visit him there one time. He seemed much calmer and more himself.

I dropped out of the community college, where I had been taking two classes, and I tried to take care of Phil when he came home. But that June, just over three months later, Phil moved out to an apartment that he had rented for another new girlfriend. He had a moving company take all of our furniture. I had to give up the house because I could not pay the rent, so I moved in with my mother until I could get on my feet.

And that is the true story of what happened.



2 Responses to “Plastic Universe”

  1. Literary Dreamer Says:

    Guess truth is stranger than fiction.

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