Tales of the Crazy Read online

  Tales of the Crazy

  Why My Ex Embalmed

  Her Uterus

  Tales of the Crazy

  Why My Ex Embalmed

  Her Uterus

  An Unsuspecting Man’s Journey of Marriage, Opioids, and Betrayal

  Charles L. Cole

  Copyright © 2017 by Cole Media Productions LLC

  Authored by Charles L. Cole

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in any form without permission in writing from Cole Media Productions LLC, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in a review for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, website, social media site, or broadcast.

  To book the author to your live event or interview, contact Cole Media Productions LLC at [email protected].

  This book reflects the opinions of the author and does not represent all written events with complete accuracy. People’s memories of the events described in this book may be different than the author’s. This is the author’s story and this book is not intended to harm or malign anyone. Some names, identities, locations, places, and physical descriptions of people have been changed to protect their privacy.

  ISBN: 0999566709

  ISBN: 9780999566701

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2017917180

  Cole Media Productions LLC, Ypsilanti, MI

  Contents

  Foreword by Herbert Cole, Charles’s Father

  Acknowledgments

  One The Meet and Marriage

  Two Job Woes

  Three Fertility Problems and Debt

  Four The Pacific Ocean Is a Good Mother-in-Law Barrier

  Five Prescription Opioids Are Evil

  Six End of the Store

  Seven Spiritual Warfare

  Eight More Trouble Is Brewing

  Nine It Hits the Fan

  Ten From Bad to Worse

  Eleven Gathering Evidence and My Defense

  Twelve Phase Two of My Defense

  Thirteen Time to Eject

  Fourteen Lies and More Lies

  Fifteen She’s Removed from the House!

  Sixteen The Embalmed Uterus

  Seventeen Finalizing the Divorce

  Eighteen The Problem with Modern Divorces

  Nineteen Tips for Single Men and Women Run Away from the Crazy

  Twenty What Attracts Us to the Opposite Sex

  Twenty-One Protecting Your Assets from a Business

  Twenty-Two Christmas and New Year’Conclusion

  Foreword by Herbert Cole, Charles’s Father

  My son, a reflection of goodness:

  You and your mother are people who give. You chose to stay away from people who were trouble. You stayed away from the high school burnouts. You never placed on me financial burdens or legal expenses. You paid your own way through college.

  You handled with perfection the death of your mother and your spousal problems.

  I am blessed to have a son who is a reflection of his mother’s character.

  I walked my son’s bride down the aisle. I cried a little when we got to the altar and thought, I lost my hunting partner. Never thought that disaster was coming or that my son and I would come back together to overcome these issues.

  I was in the courtroom and saw my son enter in handcuffs and leg shackles. He could only take short steps. He looked at me as he was led into the courtroom. The expression on his face was like a picture of Jesus being led to his crucifixion. His expression told me this was an injustice. I thought, What did his wife say to the cops? How could this happen? A year earlier, she’d said, “I love him so much. I can’t imagine living without Chuck.”

  Acknowledgments

  My mother, Margaret Cole. She was the most caring and loving person I have ever known. I was truly blessed to have been raised by such a great woman of incredible character and great faith in God.

  My father, Herbert Cole, and sister, Jane Cole, for their constant love and support throughout my ordeal.

  The men of my theologizing group, which meets every Monday evening. This group of great men of caring and faith gave me endless counsel and was there when I needed to vent. Some of the regulars are Sean Egmon, Steve Hoover, Dan Meyer, Alan Morgan, Pastor Byron Schindel, Rick Wilson, Ryan Dorsey, Brian Holloway, and Phil Husak (our token Catholic, whom we jokingly refer to as the Vatican’s representative).

  I do wish to beg this group for forgiveness though: I subjected them to Laphroaig Quarter Cask scotch, and their howls of disgust and protest still ring in my ears. (But Sean needed it to shock him out of his severe Crown Royal affliction.)

  Pastor Frank Pies and Pastor Christopher Thoma of Our Savior Evangelical Lutheran Church. Pastor Pies confirmed me when I was a teenager and gave the memorial sermon for my mother, Margaret Cole. Pastor Thoma gave my mother the last rites in the hospital. He also published three volumes of his book, The Angels’ Portion: A Clergyman’s Whisky Narrative.

  Rick Darragh, an elder at St. Luke Lutheran Church. We met for meals many times to talk about my situation and how to handle the emotional trauma.

  Don and Cathy Kersten and Esther McDonnell. They regularly sat next to me at church and always lent a sympathetic ear.

  Christopher Bailey, a close and dear friend of mine. We have known each other for more than forty-six years and talked about my ordeal numerous times.

  Alan Morgan, a close friend who helped me too many times to count. We used to meet every month at the Corner Brewery in Ypsilanti, Michigan, for beer release party, but that stopped when he went gluten free. I need to find a way to convince him that gluten in beer is a wonderful ingredient that he must ingest. Don Day should help me with this and get Alan back on track.

  Steve and Katrina. Their willingness to do whatever it took to clear my name once they realized the betrayal we all had experienced was invaluable.

  Michael Vincent, my criminal defense attorney. His pit bull–like tenacity and refusal to let an innocent man get convicted by a flawed legal system resulted in the dismissal of all my bogus criminal charges.

  Ray Waldo, my divorce attorney. Without his wisdom and expertise in handling difficult cases, my situation would have turned out much worse.

  Many more friends, aunts, uncles, cousins, and neighbors came to my aid. I’m an incredibly blessed man to have so many caring people in my life who supported me and knew I was not capable of all the horrific false accusations brought against me.

  Loly Aristizabal is the cover model. Her contact e-mail for modeling projects is [email protected]. Her husband will review all modeling requests and accompany her at photo shoots to weed out the cyber leg-humpers and ensure everything is legit.

  The cover photo is courtesy of Crisandra Welch Photography. Her contact information for photography projects is [email protected] or crisandrawelch.zenfolio.com.

  One

  The Meet and Marriage

  I still remember the day I met Jess. (This is not her real name, which I’m hiding to protect her identity.) Seven months earlier, my six-month relationship with a woman named Lucette had ended very badly. I’d known Lucette a very long time, and our relationship was one of the few times I’ve ever gotten out of the friend zone with a beautiful woman. Unfortunately, during our time together, I found out she was cheating on me and lying about a great many things in her life. She was even manipulating facts and portraying another friend of mine, Cynthia, as psychologically disturbed—all so Lucette could cover up her own actions and claim anything Cynthia said about what was really going on was false. This really hurt Cynthia, and later, she and I had a few long talks about the damage Lucette had done to all the people around us.

  I had bought Lucette an engagement ring befo
re I learned the truth about everything. I showed it to her before I found out she was cheating, but she would not say anything. I loved her, and that breakup hurt me to my core. What also hurt was that some of my friends had known what Lucette was doing, but they’d said nothing. I felt an incredible sense of betrayal toward them. They justified not telling me by claiming they didn’t want to stick their noses into other people’s business. That was nothing but a cheap excuse—they simply didn’t have the strength of character to get over being uncomfortable to help a friend. I stopped seeing those so-called friends who stood silent while this mess was going on. This experience reminded me of a saying that evil triumphs when good people do nothing.

  I knew Lucette from St. Paul Lutheran Church in Ypsilanti, Michigan. At that time I’d been a member there for ten years. After Lucette, I didn’t date much. I met some women and had a couple of casual dates, but nothing clicked. Not much was happening for me in the dating world either in or out of church.

  I announced to my friends at church that I was making a radical change in my life and was leaving St. Paul for a while. At thirty-seven years old, I could not go on doing the same things that had resulted in not finding a woman I could love and spend my life with. There wasn’t a faith crisis; I was feeling incomplete. I was happy and had plenty of friends and lots of support, but I wanted more.

  I bounced around for a while, dated a bit, and went to different churches, but I didn’t meet anyone with whom I felt a deep connection. One day I went to First Presbyterian Church after learning they had a very active singles ministry. That was the absolute worst day to go there. They were having a divorce-recovery workshop for women, and the place was full of spiteful and angry women. I left thinking I would not go there again.

  A few months later, I went to the early Sunday service at a church up the road from me. As soon as I walked in, I had a strange feeling come over me and had to get out of there. It was bizarre to have this feeling in a Christian church, and I couldn’t explain it. I thought that if I left now, I could make it to the service at First Presbyterian, so I hit the road.

  I got there about ten minutes before the service, chatted a bit with a few people, and saw a couple of women surrounded by men. One of them, a very attractive Asian woman, was surrounded by a larger bunch of men. I went to a seat and was still standing while I talked with a guy in front of me, waiting for the service to start. I looked around a bit and then looked back, and there she was.

  She was standing alone right behind me—the Asian woman. I said hi and couldn’t help noticing how incredibly beautiful she was. She was tall, about five-foot eight, voluptuous, and she wore a snug but modest dress that showed every curve. I still remember the DKNY logo across her chest. I thought, Look at her eyes; don’t look down. She introduced herself as Jess. The pupils of her eyes were green and absolutely stunning. Her hair was light brown and curly.

  We chatted a bit, and then the service started with Jess still sitting behind me. I looked back a couple of times; she smiled, and I saw one empty seat next to her. I started to get up to move back and sit next to her, and then some old woman took the seat. Damn. That had always been my fault: losing opportunities with women by not acting fast enough.

  After the service ended, we talked, and I found out that Jess was new to the area after moving from Chiang Mai, Thailand, and didn’t know too many people here. She was staying with her stepdad’s friend, John, in Livonia, Michigan, until she got a place of her own. I had to come up with a good activity she would like to do, so I told her that I usually had a party during spring at my house and that she was welcome to come and meet some people. I’d done this the last few years with friends, so this was not some pickup line I used on her. I gave her my name, phone number, and e-mail address. We both left, and I realized I hadn’t asked for her number. What an idiot I was. I have to admit I was blown away by her smile and just went stupid. It was not the first time I had gone stupid in front of a woman.

  The next day at work, I got an e-mail from her, and my heart jumped. She wrote, “Hello, Charles. I hope that you remembered me. This is my pager number, 734-8xx-xxxx, as I promised. It was nice meeting you, and have a pleasant week.”

  Of course I remembered her! How could any man not? I wrote her a quick reply, saying I’d give her a call that night.

  A few days later, we went out for a very casual dinner and learned a bit more about each other. She was native Thai and grew up in Thailand, but her English was incredible with very little accent. Her biological father had died in a boat accident when she was a child. Her mother got married again a few years later to an American man traveling in Thailand. They spoke English frequently in their home in Chiang Mai, and that’s why Jess’s English was so good.

  I had the party at my house the following weekend. Jess came over early, was the first to arrive, and helped fix the food. Coming a bit early impressed me, as most of the women I knew were always late. She was very impressed with my garden, saying that most men could not grow such a great garden. She was also an avid gardener, mostly with ornamentals, but she loved growing her own vegetables. She especially liked all the fresh herbs I had been growing and spoke about her family’s garden in Thailand and all the different herbs they grew.

  Jess really made the day, and her added touch to my cooking had everyone raving about how good the food was. The unique flavoring she added with different cooking techniques blended with mine made the food taste incredible. Her creative arrangement and presentation of all the dishes brought it up to an artistic level I didn’t have the talent for. I gave all credit to her, and she beamed with happiness.

  Jess really brought life to the party. I’m an introverted engineer, and she brought me out of my shell that day. A few of the women came up to me and asked what was going on with her. They said there was a real spark between us. All the guys were trying to get in a word with her, but she just came back to me. Some came up to me, asking if she was seeing anyone. I told them, “Too late. She’s mine.” I made absolutely sure that I kept all the other hound dogs away.

  Late in the evening, everyone left except her and one of my longtime friends, Clyde. Jess was sitting on the couch, and I knew she wanted to talk and spend time with me alone. I gave Clyde a couple of subtle hints that it was time for him to leave, but he didn’t get it and would not shut up or leave, even after I told him it was getting late. Finally I had to pull him aside and flat-out tell him it was time for him to go so I could spend time alone with Jess. He smiled and said he completely understood and wished me good luck.

  Jess and I talked for a bit on my couch, and she explained why she came to the United States. After finishing high school in Thailand, she went to college in the U.S., and then got a job as an international marketing representative. When that job ended, she went back to Thailand for a couple of years. She had a business in Thailand, but it went under due to the economy. She was married in Thailand for a very short time, but this was only because her mother had pressured her to marry him. Jess said he was abusive and hit her, so she divorced him after six months of marriage and moved to the United States. She wanted to get a fresh start after all the bad experiences in Thailand.

  She asked if I had ever been married. I said no, and then she asked if I had had any serious relationships. I told her a bit about the recent experience with Lucette, and she pressed for details. I spoke briefly about the pain it caused me. She moved in, took my hand while I was talking, leaned over, and gave me a very tender kiss. It was like a shock going through my entire body. She wiped her lipstick off my lips, and it felt like I was shocked again. We talked a bit more, closely holding each other, and then she left late at night.

  Two days later we went out for dinner, and I told her I had been disappointed that the old woman sat next to her at church, preventing me from coming back. Jess laughed, saying she could tell. From that day, it was a whirlwind romance, and everything just clicked. We had similar conservative values. She was outgoing, bubbly, and the fi
rst woman I had dated who was a better cook than I was. Her being drop-dead gorgeous was a definite plus. Her body was absolutely incredible, and I really had to focus to keep my eyes from wandering. When we went out, I could see the eyes of other people following her. Both men and woman looked at her. Every once in a while, I noticed other women getting perturbed when they caught the guys they were with tracking Jess with their eyes. I’ve gone out with very attractive women before, but Jess was in a league of her own. We saw each other almost every day.

  Jess and I started going together to St. Paul, since we didn’t want any part of the singles crowd at First Presbyterian Church. I didn’t agree with some of the Presbyterian theology anyway, since I’d been raised a very conservative Lutheran. When I was a child, my family attended Our Savior Evangelical Lutheran Church in Hartland, Michigan. Jess shared my Christian values even though she’d been raised in a Buddhist family. She became a member at St. Paul and was baptized.

  I asked her how she had become Christian when all her family was Buddhist. When she was a child, she said, there was a Seventh-day Adventist church down the road from her house. She liked the music they played, which was very different from the traditional Thai Buddhist songs. It was at that church that she’d found her faith in Christ.

  Fall arrived in Michigan, and for me, that’s deer-hunting season. I went up north with my dad on September 29, 2000, to the family’s property to do some bowhunting. Deer season using a bow and arrow starts on October 1. It was only my dad and me at hunt camp that year. I told Dad how well it was going with Jess but that I was going to take it slow. I got a deer the second day the season was open, but the weather was unseasonably warm. The deer would rot if it was hung in the warm weather, so I had to get it home and in the refrigerator right away. Dad and I talked about finding an old refrigerator in the future to keep in hunt camp, because this warmth had cut many previous hunting trips short, and a refrigerator would make it possible to save the meat. I left for home to butcher the deer and get it in the freezer. I called Jess on the way back and told her my plans for butchering the deer. She said she would come over and help.