tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76239013421676245712023-11-15T07:56:38.239-08:00Memoirs of a Phat ChickMemoirs of a Phat Chick~ The funny, heartbreaking, honest musings of a dented writer...Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-19456545099985444272014-01-14T11:40:00.000-08:002014-01-14T11:40:09.379-08:00Bras and Other Weapons of Mass Destruction
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would have seen it coming if I hadn’t
been so preoccupied by the voicemail Monsignor Spit-vac had left. I heard him
leave it. It wasn’t his first call to Fran. In fact, it may not have been his
first call that week. I could have easily erased it but why bother. I couldn’t
get in more trouble than I was already in. I was grounded from all of my
activities, even the lame ones. Any belongings that mattered to me were
confiscated. E</span><span style="font-family: Garamond;">ven worse, I was a
daily line item on the old ladies prayer list. No one envied that. Nothing was
worse than knowing all the old ladies were praying for you to be someone you
were sure you could never be. It took an act of congress or the second coming
of Christ Himself to get off that list. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere
besides Edward’s house, which was fine by me. None of that other stuff mattered
if I could escape my own house. I could have been rehabilitated from all of my
behavioral issues with relative ease if my parents could have tolerated my
company for longer than an hour. A lucky break for me, depending on how you
define luck, I guess. </span><span style="font-family: Garamond;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Beep</i>. This is
Monsignor Spevak. I’m sure you know why I’m calling. Erin is just not adjusting
to Catholic life. I doubt she possesses the intellect. Sister says she seems
impervious to Christian doctrine, a well-documented indicator of demonic
possession and something that should cause you grave concern. Regardless of how
amusing your daughter finds our faith to be, this is no laughing matter. Sister
says Erin is intentionally trying to drive her insane and that the only friend
she’s made is a seventy-eight year old Jesuit. I don’t know what is wrong with
her but…<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">beep</i>.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Cut
the windbag off, mid-bitch. He was right. I was trying to drive Sister crazy,
even if she was already well on her way. I had extraordinary, nearly telepathic,
button pushing skills, especially with the Catholics. And, so what, if I did
have a 78 year-old Jesuit friend? It was one more friend than old Spit-vac ever
had. Whatever. I knew Fran wouldn’t call him back. He already knew what was
wrong with me. Most likely, something similar to what was wrong with him. It
could be some sort of demonic possession. I’m no expert, although I didn’t
think a fat girl would be a likely candidate. Seemed like overkill if you ask
me. I thought being fat was about as bad as it could get. That was how the nuns
had explained it. Sloth. Envy. Pride. Greed. Vanity. Wrath. Gluttony. I figured
I was covered. I couldn’t spin my head around. That I knew. I tried it the
second I saw Linda Blair do it in the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Exorcist</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Days
passed and no one mentioned the voice mail. Just as my false sense of security began
to settle in, my brother burst into my room. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I think you’re in trouble,
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">again</i>.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
don’t know why he always felt the need to add “again.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">We
assumed our usual positions next to the heating vent just as the grandmother was
telling Fran that something was “overdue” and “settled” for Saturday. Maybe
they were going to have me exorcized after all, as a precautionary measure. It
may be terrible to admit but my heart leapt, for a second, in that rift that
exists between hope and reality. I was ready for a change, just not the kind I
got. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
wondered if it would be painful, the exorcism, like having a tooth pulled or
getting hit with a line drive. They could check my head for sixes if they wanted.
I didn’t see any when I looked. Peanut said they would dump me in water to see
if I could float. He said that was how they tested witches. Floaters were
doomed. He figured it had to be the same kind of criteria and suggested I
prepare for the worst. He said his grandmother always said I was “full of the
devil.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
was relieved when Saturday finally arrived. I had lost sleep thinking of all
the ways I could be exorcised. It didn’t help that Peanut added new potential
tortures hourly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“They’ll make you drink holy water to see if you explode.
Maybe put bamboo under your fingernails, or poke you in the eyes with needles.
At least until you talk.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Talk? Talk about what?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Until you tell them how you got possessed!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I’m not possessed!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“If you say so but I’ve seen you float.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
came downstairs dressed and ready to make a break for it the second cartoons
ended. My heart pounded in my ears so loudly I could barely hear. I was on the
brink of vomiting the entire time and barely touched my Honey Combs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The
grandmother stopped me just as I hit the front porch. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“You’re not going anywhere. Say goodbye to your friends
and go do something with that hair.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Wally,
Edward, Sal and Peanut stood on my front porch, looking like pallbearers, white
as sheets, as the grandmother closed the door in their troubled faces. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
said goodbye to my brother with a rather convicted sentiment. I didn’t know if
I would ever see him again. It was evident that he would make a rapid recovery.
He never even looked away from the television. He’d miss me in a month or two.
Maybe. I’m sure he was relieved by the prospect of a less volatile household. I
couldn’t blame him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The
grandmother and Fran were already in the car when I got in. I was confused that
none of my things were packed but figured there would be a uniform involved. Special
ordered, no doubt. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">We
drove in silence. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
closed my eyes and prayed. I was notorious for praying only under duress, a
deal maker from day one. They never worked. God didn’t listen to me. I
understood why. He was disappointed in me. We were even. I was disappointed in
Him too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
opened my eyes when the car stopped. We were in front of the mall. I was
perplexed. The grandmother hopped out before we came to a complete stop. I
wasn’t even sure if I was supposed to get out until Fran looked over his
shoulder and grimly wished me “good luck.” Good luck? Why did I need luck? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
struggled to keep the grandmother’s pace. She was quick and clearly on a
mission, a deadly combination, one that required me to be lucky. I had narrowly
escaped complete humiliation during our most recent shopping trip when the
grandmother discovered I could no longer fit into the conveniently paired
Garanimals. I was grateful. I hated the potentially combustible, poly-fiber
attire more than I hated my school uniform. At least with the uniform everyone
looked equally ridiculous. The Garanimals craze was an attempt to get me to
conform on a core level. I was having none of it. As it was, I mixed my monkeys’
with my lions’. It drove the grandmother bat shit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">We
walked for what seemed an eternity. Finally we entered a section of the store I
had never been in before. It was as far from the beaten path as a department
could be while still housed in the same building. I could feel the shame before
its contents offered an explanation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“You need to start
wearing a bra.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">What?
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">This
could not be happening. The concept had never occurred to me. I mean, I knew what
they were and I assumed I’d be forced to wear one. Eventually. I couldn’t
imagine that anyone would wear one voluntarily. Maybe the government regulated
them or the church. Probably the church. It certainly could have been based on a
medical need. Some of the women I’d seen obviously had a condition that would
warrant one. Like Lisa’s Aunt Shirley, she could take you out with one boob
from a hundred paces, clear the dinner table with an abrupt grab for the salt,
suffocate the life out of you if you stood under four feet tall. Those kind of
boobs should be monitored, for everyone’s safety. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">A
bra was the last thing I needed. Something like this was sure to broaden the
separation between my peers and me, a quickly expanding rift as it was. That,
and it would be discussed in the same way everything was discussed. Loudly.
Publicly. Relentlessly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
was due, I suppose. Edward had just gotten special glasses to correct his
wandering eye. We had pretty much milked all of the eye material anyway, even
though Wally and I secretly thought it was kind of cool. We wondered if Edward could
see in two directions simultaneously. We tested him a few times by giving him
the finger in his peripheral vision. Eventually Wally got caught. Edward pinned
him on the ground and dangled spit in his face. They were disgusting. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He
was getting off easy if you ask me. The eye was getting fixed. There was no
fixing the bra issue. I’d much rather sport a magic spy-eye.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wally would
still be Wally. That was some consolation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
waited in the fitting room, horrified, wishing I were somewhere getting an
exorcism, even if it required potentially exploding from holy water. The
grandmother threw back the curtain and handed me what looked like a parachute
without a canopy. I strapped it on with no instruction. I didn’t see the point
of wearing one. I mean, who cared besides the grandmother? I looked at myself
in the mirror. The bra felt tight and cut me in half, like a rubber band on a
burrito. I could barely breathe. I was unaware that adjustments were possible I
just knew they were necessary. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Once I put on a shirt no one would notice. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
arrived home to find Edward and Wally sitting on the curb waiting. Wally
sprinted to the car the second we pulled in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Thank
God you’re home! We found a dead raccoon by the park. Peanut ran over it with
his bike by accident. He’s home throwing up. You missed it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I was trapped with the
grandmother.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Did you have an
exorcism?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I’m not possessed,
Wall.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“That’s not what Edward said. Right, Eddie? He said when
you say the rosary you get hives. He’s seen them.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I smacked Edward.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span> “What? Sometimes if
I sit behind you in church I swear I can see smoke.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span> “See?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Sarcasm never found its way to Wally. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I’m not possessed, jackass. Stop listening to Edward. Do
you remember when he told you KISS was staying at Brian Kopeck’s house?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Yeah.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“He told you to peek in the window to see them. What
happened? Did you see KISS?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“No.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“What did you see?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Old man Kopeck playing
with his weenie.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“So what does that say
about Edward?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“That he has no idea what
Gene Simmons looks like?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“God, you are an idiot.”
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Maybe. So, how come you’re
wearing a back brace?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">In the weeks of bra torture that followed, I had never
seen Edward so full of joy. He broke two bras in the first week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can only ask so much from fabric,
even the elastic-y kind. My back was covered with welts. Peanut was so deft at
strap snapping that he could do it <a href="" name="_GoBack"></a>while we were on our
bikes riding at full speed. He nearly killed us both more than once. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">This was only the beginning, the inception, coming
attractions…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-21712600925172507042013-10-10T15:02:00.001-07:002013-10-10T15:02:09.795-07:00Crime and Punishment
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<br />
<div class="Section1">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">The
ability to keep me in class for an entire day proved impossible for the Sisters
of Perpetual Humiliation. Since I had intentionally, and with some finality, burned
my bridge at the rectory, the nuns needed to be clever if they were going to punish
me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Their
first attempt was to lock me in the library. The only flaw in their master plan
was that the library only stayed locked from the outside. I could come and go
as I pleased and as long as I left a piece of tape over the lock no one was the
wiser. One day, I walked to McDonald’s and had lunch. It was a whole other
world during the day. I had no idea. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">By
the end of the second week I would boldly roam the school, ducking our janitor,
Mr. Senko. It wasn’t difficult, he was a million years old and had a lift in
his shoe, plus he was always humming Amazing Grace. It wasn’t such a sweet
sound but a dead giveaway, that and the dragging foot. He must have been saved
from something. He should have been praying about that foot if you ask me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Lisa
was the one who realized I had to be escaping.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“There is no way you are sitting in there all day.
You would have called the Pope by now. Fess up.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">She
knew me too well. I told her of all the adventures I had had so far. How I had
been in the basement and that it housed shelves of all kinds of broken Jesus
paraphernalia; headless statues with missing limbs and worn faces, each
creepier than the next, none worthy of repair. It must be sacrilegious to toss
them out. I tried to put a Mary back together once. I felt sorry for her. She
always had the saddest expression on her face. I felt like helping repair her
would buy me a few points. It was an unsuccessful attempt and I’m still waiting
to see if there is any return on my intention. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I
told Lisa how I had been spying on the penguins while they ate lunch. It was
always strange to observe them in a pack like that. They rarely spoke to each
other. They seemed joyless and lonely, exactly as I had suspected. Maybe they
would make a few friends, even among the other penguins, if they weren’t so
mean. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">She
shook her head and warned that it was only a matter of time. We both knew that
I would push my luck. It seemed to be a reoccurring theme. I was on a good run
and if it ain’t broke…but, like all good things, this too would come to an end.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I
had just finished my rounds, checking out the basement, making faces at my
classmates through the window, spying on the nuns. I was making my way back to
the library when I saw the door was wide open. I could see Sister and her pet,
Mary Alice Stasko, searching the room for me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I knew she was up to no good! She is an awful
child!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I don’t think she really says her rosary after
confession either, Sister.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">How
did she know? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">There
was no way of avoiding trouble, so I didn’t. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You looking for me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Sister
was apoplectic and nearly purple. I burst out laughing. Although I did enjoy pushing
her to the brink of madness, the laugh was involuntary though I doubt Sister
would have believed that. She grabbed me by my arm and dragged me in the
direction of the rectory. I turned to see Mary Alice, smug, satisfied. I gave
her the finger. Why not? How much worse could it get? And, fuck her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">We
arrived at the rectory just as Father Smotzer was walking back from old lady
mass. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Ah, Sister! You must have read my mind! I was
just thinking of my friend and then, poof, she magically appeared!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Not so magical, Father. I’d be here everyday still
if I didn’t get banned from the rectory.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Banned? Hardly. Well, Sister, unhand the child.
I’ll see to it that she has a stern talking to.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Father
winked at me, right in front of Sister. She sucked her teeth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You should not encourage her to be so
disobedient, Father. You’ll ruin her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Ruin her? For what? A life in the convent? I
think it’s evident she is no competition for your place at the table, Sister.
Now, don’t you have a classroom to attend to?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I
looked to the window of our classroom. My classmates were plastered to the
glass, not wanting to miss any of the action. I made eye contact with Lisa. She
had her usual look of disgust. I was used to it. I waved. She didn’t wave back
but I could tell she wanted to laugh. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Sister
waddled off. I hated her. I tried not to. I didn’t want to end up in hell
because of it. She wasn’t worth it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">It
was a warm day for March. Father and I walked around the neighborhood. We went
to the market on the corner. Father spoke to them in Polish and they gave us
each a piece of freshly made keibalsi. We sat on the curb. As we ate, I told
him of my two weeks in the library. He roared with laughter. I wasn’t sure what
was so funny. I thought maybe it sounded funnier in his head with his accent.
It cracked me up all the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
did say that all the praying in the world wasn’t going to fix Mr. Senko’s foot
and that not all nuns were mean but he understood why I might think so. Father
said he was glad I recognized the tune of Amazing Grace that it meant I was
paying attention in church some of the time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I
should have told him that I paid attention to him; that I hung on every word of
his sermons. I should have told him he was the only hope I had had for months,
maybe years. I should have told him he saved me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Should
is an awful word. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">By
Monday, Sister was ready with plan B. My new punishment consisted of being sent
to sit on the concrete wall that housed a statue of Mary holding baby Jesus. It
wasn’t so bad and it was outside. I would spend several hours planted in the
middle of the schoolyard. Mother Mary and baby Jesus were sculpted with white
marble and on warm days I would lean my cheek against the feet of the
aforementioned virgin. Sometimes I would fall asleep on the retaining wall with
the cool comfort of the Madonna’s toes pressed to my face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Then
April’s rain arrived. One afternoon, as I sat with Mary and Jesus, Lisa’s mom
ran by. Her umbrella pulled tight to her head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“What are you doing out here?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“Punished. I’m not allowed in the rectory anymore or
the library.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“Why can’t you go to the rectory?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“Eh, conflict of interest. Being out here is
better.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“What could you possibly be getting punished for?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“You’d be surprised. All different stuff, sometimes
I laugh too loud or ask too many questions. Some days I look fatter than others.
Sometimes I’m shanty. I still don’t even know what that means. Today my desk was
messy. Sister dumped it and sent me out here. I’m only missing religion. Sister
says she can’t stand to look at my blasphemous face during religion anyway. Whatever.
I feel the same way about her all the time.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Lisa’s
mother looked at me, confused. I could see her eyes fill with tears. Guilt
washed over me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“It’s okay. Honest.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“Have you told your parents?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“Nope, separation of church and state. There’s a
lot going on at my house.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">She
knew that better than most. I slept at her house most nights and only went home
when absolutely necessary. Even then, I always brought Lisa with me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“This is very wrong, Erin.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“I couldn’t agree more.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I
smiled but I could tell she was staying mad. She stormed into the church.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Within
seconds Father Smotzer opened the church door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“Shouldn’t you be atoning for your sins in here,
my child?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“Is it raining in there?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“Ah! The choosy beggar!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I
ran inside. Father Smotzer hugged me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“Erin, we need to fix this. I can’t have my best
friend standing out there like a vagabond! What would the neighbors think?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<span style="font-family: Garamond; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br clear="ALL" style="mso-break-type: section-break; page-break-before: auto;" />
</span>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“Thank you, Father. I’m sorry for all the
trouble.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“You are no trouble my friend, no trouble.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I
sat in the farthest back pew and quietly cried as I listened to his Slovak mass
in the background, with the old ladies chanting in the first pew. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">After
mass, Father Smotzer walked me back to school and called Sister out into the
hall. The class was silent as we listened to Father Smotzer ream Sister out in
Slovak. No one had ever heard Father Smotzer raise his voice or ever speak with
the smallest hint of anger. We were shocked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Alex
was the only boy in my class who spoke Slovak. He was one of my best friends
and equally prone to mischief but with immigrant parents he received
preferential treatment. I didn’t begrudge him. It was difficult enough for him
to have immigrant parents.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Holy shit, he’s pissed! He says he will no
longer condone her abuse of a helpless child. Helpless!” He snorted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“He said you’re gifted and she is too stupid to
see it. Yeah, a gifted ball-buster!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">All
very true, I was hardly helpless and had made it my life’s work to undermine
the penguins; it kept my skills sharp for the grandmother, or vice versa, it
hardly mattered. Six of one, as they say. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -4.5pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -4.5pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -4.5pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -4.5pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -4.5pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: -4.5pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-39936812836999108352013-08-15T10:33:00.001-07:002016-02-02T20:06:07.045-08:00Saturdays<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Saturday
was the best day of our week. Charlie’s Chips delivered his giant cans of
cheese balls and potato chips to Wally’s house, cartoons started bright and
early, and adventure waited just outside our front doors.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Every
Saturday began the same and varied little in the eternity that followed its
inception. By eight o’clock, Wally and Edward would burst through my front
door, breakfast in hand, to find my brother well into his second hour of
cartoons and third bowl of Fruit Loops.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">My
brother’s Saturday started at the crack of dawn. He watched every cartoon and
he watched them religiously. I think he was an addict. I tried to get my
parents to do an intervention once. I suggested it was for his own good but in
reality I was just sick to death of watching Scooby Doo and The
Flintstones after school everyday. When the mere mention of amending our
viewing habits came up, my brother lost his mind; a valuable lesson in choosing
my battles more judiciously.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Eventually,
Fran usurped us both and kept us on a steady diet of Red Sox games
and M.A.S.H. reruns.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">To
this day I still hate Scooby Doo and I’m completely certain my
brother is a closet cartoon junkie.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We
all have our demons.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
early morning cartoon fare was weak and never lured me from my bed a second before
I had to get up. It was still dark when New Zoo Review started. I
have no idea what those people were thinking. I made the mistake once and
quickly realized it was hardly worth getting out of bed for at six in the
morning. Davey and Goliath followed, with its creepy pious Claymation
and dogma-ridden dialogue that would seep into my dreams early, planting seeds,
just before consciousness would take its full grasp. Long enough for Davy to
remind me I had things to feel guilty about when my feet hit the eventual
floor. Then, Tom and Jerry, where at least I could drift carelessly,
uninterested in who caught who: mindless, endless chasing was not my idea of a
cartoon. I had standards after all.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ultimately,
I’d hear the three of them scheming, devising devilish tactics to rouse me. I’m
not sure who they were kidding we all knew none of them would muster the
courage to execute them.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“If
we put her hand in warm water she’ll pee herself!”</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> “We
could crawl into her room with pots and pans and on the count of three just
bang the shit out of them! It’ll scare her half to death!”</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">They’d
roar with laughter. They were always Edward’s inspirations and immediately shot
down by Wally.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Evil
geniuses they were not. I would have shared their hesitation if I were
plotting; retaliation was real and swift. I guess the planning had to be enough
or at least that is what we told ourselves; I can’t say for sure but I know I
never once woke up with anyone’s ass cheek pressed to my forehead or sporting a
magic marker mustache.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Eventually,
Peanut and Sal would arrive. Peanut was always half asleep. Sal would drag him
across the yard to make sure they were there by nine. The best cartoons started
at nine. I was always last. I would bolt from bed as soon as the first Bugs
Bunny overture began. After the usual “it lives” “nice hair” comments, we’d all
sit, silent, in our pajamas, eat cereal, and watch Bugs Bunny.
Consume Bugs Bunny. By ten-thirty we would disperse, dress and be on our
bikes, ready for escapade. My brother, in an effort to avoid trouble, and,
because there were still several hours of cartoons left to watch, rarely left
the house on Saturdays, at least before noon.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sometimes
we were already in trouble and punished by noon. Fran used to say that my
brother was too scared to be stupid and I was too stupid to be scared. I guess
there is some truth to that. It didn’t matter. I waited all week for Saturdays
and I didn’t waste a minute of them. Especially since Sundays were hit or miss,
depending on how church went.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We
rode our bikes aimlessly hoping to come across a Whiffle ball game or a freshly
paved sidewalk, ripe for initial carving, or a fight. We weren’t picky. We’d
stop for candy and to investigate new road kill. One Saturday my mother came
home from the grocery store crying. She said she had just hit a squirrel. We
bolted from the house like it was on fire. We couldn’t get to the squished
rodent quick enough. We never touched them, just marveled at the pure
disgustingness of it all.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Just
when we thought Saturday’s couldn’t possibly get better, so began haircut day
in Wally’s garage. It was unbelievable, a rare divine gift. Other than Edward’s
basement there wasn’t a better place to be, ever. Wally and I would set up milk
crates close enough to be part of the action but far enough away to remain
under the radar.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Mr.
Janesky had five brothers. I have no idea who was the oldest or youngest. They
all looked exactly the same. They would arrive at Wally’s early Saturday
morning, each carrying his own case of beer. By mid-afternoon the beer was gone
and the haircuts would begin. None of them were barbers and whomever had the
misfortune of going last always got the worst haircut. More than once Mr.
Janesky ended up with a buzz cut just to repair what Uncle Vic or Uncle Henry
had done. Sometimes they would sport their unfortunate quaffs for the week and
try their luck again the following Saturday. Wally and I would laugh for days
about what each uncle must have looked like at work or bowling or whatever they
did. I knew nothing of them beyond Saturday haircuts. They all knew me, Wally’s
best friend; the one who did all the talking.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Once
Mr. Janesky cut Uncle Russell’s ear, and while the others laughed, Uncle
Russell chased Mr. Janesky around the yard until they were both too winded to
continue. It was a few weeks, maybe longer, before haircut Saturdays resumed.
Wally and I were heartbroken until we spotted Uncle Vic, beer in hand and
looking like a vagrant, pull into Wally’s driveway. I nearly cried with joy. I
loved Wally’s uncles, even if I couldn’t always tell them apart.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">When
then weren’t doling out haircuts, they partied. Every Janesky family gatherings
took place at Wally’s house. I attended every one. The uncles would be
inebriated upon arrival. During a picnic for Wally’s birthday, Uncle Henry ran
over the Brown’s cat, Tootsie, while barreling into the driveway. Squished it
dead. Wally and I barely got a good look at it before Mr. Janesky and Uncle Vic
buried it in the back yard and swore us to secrecy.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We
ran and told Edward immediately. A dead cat was too good to keep. By the time
we returned Mr. Janesky was hosing Tootsie’s guts into the sewer drain. I bet
Edward’s still mad he missed it.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Uncle
Vic said it was better to let the Browns think Tootsie ran away than met his
fate via El Camino.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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made me wonder if Wally’s dog really ran away. I don’t think Wally gave it a
second thought though. I wondered if Wally ever wondered
anything. He certainly didn’t seem too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-68403113376231658782013-06-18T13:13:00.001-07:002013-10-04T10:53:52.294-07:00The Page Twins<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Wally, Edward, Peanut and I laid in wait outside of
Mrs. Page’s home. We had been stealthily stalking her all summer as she waddled
through our neighborhood on her daily walks. It was hard to believe someone
could get so fat, so quickly, even if they were pregnant. We were careful not
to be discovered. Last time we spied on someone we got caught. I still don’t
know why we got in trouble. How were we supposed to know Hoppy’s parents would
be naked? Shouldn’t they be the one’s who got in trouble? Who walks around the
house naked in broad daylight? It had to be illegal. If not, it should be. It
did explain why all of their furniture was covered in plastic <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond;">It was my mother’s turn, that day, to dole out the
punishment and accompanying disquisition. Fran wouldn’t have been able to get
through it with a straight face. It didn’t matter who drew the short straw. They
shared the same opening question.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;">“What’s wrong with you?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
often wondered that myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Fran started to snigger. My mother shot him a
look.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;">“Don’t
start!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;">“I know, but Christ almighty can you imagine what her ass
looks like spread out on plastic? That couch must be like a slip and slide in
August. I can never go there again.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Fran had a point. We never wanted to see Hoppy’s
parents naked ever again. To this day Wally can’t make eye contact with Hoppy’s
mother. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">We knew quitting the spy business was out of the
question. We were gifted in the ways of espionage. We just needed to hone our
skills. We trained like Navy Seals, perfecting a vast array of ninja-like
dexterities. Even Wally was able to fabricate a working slingshot with some
credibility, although he did shoot himself in the face, twice. We primed until
we were virtually undetectable, moving silently through the underground of the
heavily hedged yards, confident in our abilities to remain camouflaged at all
times. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">When we noticed Mrs. Page suspiciously lapping the
block every afternoon, our curiosity was piqued. We decided we owed it to our
community to make sure she wasn’t up to something. It was the perfect
opportunity for us to put our newly acquired skills to good use. We owed it to
our fellow man. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">We followed her everyday. We wondered why she spent
most of her walk laughing to herself. Peanut said that fat people were jolly
and that maybe she got jollier the fatter she got. He knew lots of facts like
that. It sounded reasonable enough to us, even though Fat Pat from the candy
store was far from jolly. Every rule has its exception, I suppose.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Sal threw himself into our bush.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Did she
come out yet?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Nope.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Well, my
mother told me there were two of them in there!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Two babies?
Is that even possible?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Twins.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Twins? Creepy.
Do you think she’ll give them to the circus?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Don’t be
stupid, Peanut. You can’t just give babies to the circus. If you could, Wally
would be somewhere being shot out of a cannon?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Wally hit me with a stick. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’d rather
be one of those clowns that gets to drive the little cars.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I threw the stick back at him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What? I
would?” he responded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“How can she
keep them? I bet she donates them to science. They’ll put them in jars, like
pickles. I saw it on television, Ripley’s Believe It or Not. Disgusting.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Finally the garage door slowly creaked open. We
took deep cover and waited to see who or what would emerge. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mrs. Page pushed a two-seated stroller out
into her driveway and placed an identical baby in each seat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">We were in awe. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Peanut was so overcome he waltzed right out of
hiding, like he was in some kind of trance. Maybe that’s what happened when you
got too close to twins. How would we know? We never even heard of twins before.
I understand why he wanted a closer look. From what I could see the babies were
red and shriveled, like newborn puppies, with loose skin and old man faces. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Mrs. Page didn’t look surprised to see Peanut crawl
out from under the privet. Maybe having twins gave her special powers or maybe
she already had powers and that’s how she got twins. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Hi Peanut.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Peanut stared, transfixed, for a long time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Peanut? You
okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Finally unable to keep himself from imploding,
Peanut erupted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What the
heck is wrong with them? Are they supposed to look like baby hamsters? Are they
aliens? Were you abducted by aliens? I bet that’s why you got fat so quick? Why
did they make you take two of them? Isn’t one bad enough? Do you remember being
on the alien ship? Are you going to donate them to the circus or to science?
They’ll keep them in jars. Not the circus people, the scientists, like pickles.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Whoa,
Peanut, take a breath little man. How do you talk so fast? This is Sara and
this is Noah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just had them
Friday. Pretty cute, don’t you think?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“No. The one
in the hat looks like Sal’s grandfather.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Peanut was always deadly serious. Mrs. Page
laughed anyway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“So, you’re
gonna keep them?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Of course!
Haven’t you ever seen a newborn baby?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“No. Do you
think we could borrow them? I’m thinking we could set up a freak show right in
Erin’s basement. Her mom let us do a haunted house. It was pretty scary even
without the eyeballs. We peeled grapes for two days to make eyeballs. Erin ate
them, so, they scared no one!” Peanut yelled in the direction of the bushes.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;">“Anyway, this would be
better. We would make a fortune! With those two, and Wally’s deformed Aunt
Julie? It could be great. His Aunt Julie has a goiter so big we named it
Captain Stubbing, cause it kinda looks like him, except it has more hair, you
know, from The Love Boat? She tries to cover him up with a scarf but he’s as
big as her head. I don’t know who she thinks she’s fooling. Fran says she
should draw a face on it and pretend she has a boyfriend. Ooh, and Mrs. Taft has
that three-legged cat, Tripod! Edward has webbed pinky toes! He was gonna get
them fixed but kept them in case his real mom is a mermaid and it’s the only
way she’ll be able to identify him, kinda like Cinderella and the slipper but
with webbed toes, plus he likes winning all the toe cheese contests. Webbed
toes collect a lot of gunk.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Mrs. Page’s jaw hung. She looked at Peanut
speechless. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“We’d pay
you, of course, but you’d have to feed them and stuff. No one else is gonna
want to touch them. I dared Wally to lick Captain Stubbing once. He didn’t do
it. Instead he had to eat a spider and pee on Mrs. Olderman’s Cadillac for
welching on a double dog dare.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Peanut, do
your parent’s know any of this?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah,
that’s why I have to go to church every Sunday. My mom says it’s my only hope. I
don’t know why she sends me. It’s the easiest place to get in trouble. I’m already
not allowed to sit next to Erin, well, neither is Wally. She gets the worst church
giggles I’ve ever seen. We think something’s wrong with her. She can’t help it
and it makes us laugh. Wally says getting church giggles makes him gas-y.
Things go bad quick when Wally starts blowing breezers. It’s really Edward’s
fault. He’s up there in his alter-boy dress pretending to drink the wine or
fall asleep and Erin loses it. So now we have to be separated and each stay in
our own corner of the church. I can still hear her though. She snorts when she
holds it in too long. She says it feels like her eye is going to pop out if she
doesn’t let it out. I believe it. It sounds like that is exactly what is
happening.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Mrs. Page shook her head as she started to push
her stroller down the driveway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Your
parent’s have their hands full with the lot of you. Being a parent is going to
be a tough job.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Peanut yelled after her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It will be
much harder for you, Mrs. Page, with them being freaks and all. Let me know if
you change your mind about Erin’s basement. Her mom really will let us and we
won’t put them in jars unless you say its ok.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">As soon as Mrs. Page was out of sight we bombarded
Peanut with rocks, sticks, acorns, anything we could find.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What?” he
shrieked as he tried to protect his vital organs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You got
caught. She’s going to tell on you and then we are all going to get in trouble.
Again!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I couldn’t
help it! Did you see those things?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Sal nodded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“The one
with the hat did look like my Grampa.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I was panicked. I couldn’t afford to get into
trouble. I had just gotten my bike back that day from my last punishment for
the aforementioned church snort.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“We have to
split up. Pretend we didn’t see each other all day. Make people think we aren’t
friends anymore.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Aw, c’mon!
That means I’ll get in trouble alone! No fair.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Edward reminded him that he did just saunter right
out from hiding and that he did get us caught last time too. We could have
gotten away from Hoppy’s house without incident if Peanut hadn’t started screaming
like he’d just seen the Creature from the Black Lagoon. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Fine. I’m
never going to be able to quit church, am I?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Nope. None
of you are. My soul is saved. I’m an alter boy.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Mrs. Page never told Peanut’s mother about his
offer to make stars out of her infants. It was a good thing too. Our plan to
pretend to not be friends lasted exactly <a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7623901342167624571" name="_GoBack"></a>forty-two
minutes. It was a long forty-two minutes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-7192622972662926262013-05-28T13:27:00.001-07:002013-05-28T13:27:43.362-07:00Tuesdays with Johnny
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<a href="" name="_GoBack"></a><span style="font-family: Garamond;">I haven’t seen Johnny on a
regular basis since the days of Cornwall Street, a lifetime ago. We endured
very different existences. He battled his demons and I mine. I have never doubted
his love for me, or his loyalty. It’s been a long established truth. I was sure
to see him once a year, always at a wake. We’d bid farewell to a fallen comrade
and reminisce about our time together. I had recognized his conspicuous decline,
first into drugs, then, crippling illness. Huntington’s disease. It had taken
his mother at a despicably laborious rate, ultimately rendering her unable to
swallow. She eventually starved to death. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Johnny watched as she whittled to nothing.
Helpless. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I don’t know how John first learned his fate. I
assume he discovered it as a result of a hospitalization for drug abuse or from
one of his multiple incarcerations. He told me a dozen or so years ago, at a
wake. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">His closest living friend, Sonny, had died from an
overdose. Sonny had been in jail for six months and was reacquainted with his long
incarcerated cousin, Milton. Milt was at the end of a twelve-year jaunt for
aggravated assault and rape. No one had missed Milt. Fatefully, Sonny and Milt
were released on the same day. Milton took Sonny out to celebrate their
newfound freedom. Sonny was dead within three hours. He didn’t see his kids,
his family, his friends, just Milt and the dope dealer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Johnny was inconsolable. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I arrived at Sonny’s wake just as the police were
leaving. A fight had erupted when a strung out Milton tried to make his way into
the funeral home. Unwelcome and met by a mass of mourners, armed, literally,
they attempted to tear him limb from limb. I had gratefully missed the fiasco. Still,
several hundred people milled around the parking lot, smoking cigarettes, drinking,
smoking pot, laughing, crying, arguing; a middle-aged keg party. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I scanned the faces looking for John. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">The last time we were together was when his stepfather
died, a serendipitous meeting. There was a rumor that a man was to arrive,
shackled, with a police escort. I saw John from my office window. He hopped out
of a van in an orange jumpsuit. It was a spectacle. We made eye contact
instantly. I was as stunned to see him, as he was to see me. He flushed with
shame. He was put in a wheelchair and brought to his father’s room. He was
standing outside looking into the room when I stepped off the elevator. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“I knew you would come.
You’re a good girl.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“I work here,” I smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“I’m currently unemployed,”
he winked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">He shuffled to his dad’s bedside. I knew he was humiliated.
He looked haggard. He had been in jail for nearly two years. It had obviously
eroded him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">He cried. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">He cried at the sight of his dying stepfather, his
ravaged, tremor-ridden, mother, and, the girl who saw more in him than he was
ever able to see in himself. I stayed with him as he said goodbye to the only
father he knew, the only father he loved. He buried his face in my neck and sobbed,
restrained from holding me in return. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">His familiar whistle drew me from my recollection.
There he was, smiling. I could have been sixteen again, a time when his smile
sustained me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"> “I knew you would come. You’re a good girl. I waited. I didn’t want
you to go in alone.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">A knot came to my throat in an instant. My eyes
filled to their brim. He looked terrible. Drawn. Addicted. Lost. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span> “Don’t cry, Heather. I’m ok. I look worse than I am.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span> “John, what
are you doing?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span> “Doing?” he laughed. “Dying. I’m dying. Same as mom.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I was speechless. I could tell he was terrified.
We waited in the long receiving line. I cried the whole time. Johnny held my
hand. We never spoke of it again. There wasn’t anything to say. We both knew
what awaited him. It was the saddest I had ever been for another human being to
date. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Over the next ten years his decline was rapid and
vicious. When the tremors took over his body more ferociously, he refused to
see me. We spoke on the phone the day his mother died. After that he stopped
taking my calls. I finally forced myself on him bearing a box of old pictures.
He was a sucker for nostalgia and I knew it. The only ties he had to his former
self existed on film. He missed who he once was. Seeing pictures reminded him of
when he was whole. Free. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">It was the worst I had seen him. He had no control
of the convulsive, abrupt movements that plagued him. He had hurt himself on
several occasions from the uncontrolled thrashing, including putting his arm
through a plate glass window. He tried to hide how ill he had become. He
attempted to jump out of his bed to kiss me. He tried to be the
sixteen-year-old boy I was once in love with. He tried to feel good in a body
that had turned on him so maliciously. But, there was no denying what was to
become of him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">We sifted through the images of our shared youth,
our lost friends. We told each other stories we both already knew. We laughed. It
took everything I had to keep myself together. I cried the whole way home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">He didn’t allow me to visit often. He was
difficult to understand and would get frustrated with his inability to
communicate everything his mind raced to articulate. It was painful for him,
for us both. He still consumed alcohol at a staggering rate and was prone to
violent outbursts. Timing was everything with John. A lesson I had learned a
million years prior.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">When I heard he was in the care of a state run nursing
facility, the same he would visit to feed his mom ice cream when she could no
longer swallow solid food, my heart broke. Penny Manor has a lackluster reputation,
housed in a shitty neighborhood. The first week I went to see John I sat in my
car for nearly an hour. Dejected. It was dilapidated, filthy, with broken
windows and overgrown landscaping. I couldn’t bring myself to go in. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I went back a week later, more courageous, less venal.
The interior was not nearly as cheerless as my imagination had suspected but
far from ideal conditions for anyone, let alone the terminally ill. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I walked into the television lounge and found
John.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">He is emaciated, only capable of tolerating
liquids, no longer able to swallow solids. He is strapped to a wheelchair for
his own safety. He spotted me the instant I turned the corner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A broad smile peeled across his face. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span> “I knew you
would come. You’re a good girl,” he smirked in his arrogant way. “You could
never resist my charm.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">He laughed at his own absurdity. I pushed him
around Penny Manor. I teased him about his hair. Completely gray and buzzed
short revealing a tattoo of a swastika on the crown of his head. I had never
seen it before, nor had he ever once uttered a racist remark in my company. I
slapped it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span> “Nice
tattoo, jackass.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span> “Don’t pass
out in prison,” he laughed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Sound advice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“Will you come see me
again?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“Absolutely.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“You can write about me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“Gee, thanks. Not exactly
Tuesdays With Morrie, John. What story should I tell first? The shootings? The
multiple stab wounds? How about the stints in jail? Or the time you got
arrested in your underwear? What about when you cracked that kid across the
nose with the tire iron? Or when you stole your mother’s car on Christmas Eve
to come to my house for ‘midnight mass’? Like anyone believed we were going to midnight
mass. I guess if we were going to church it would be in a stolen car.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“I almost forgot you were
funny.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I stuck my tongue out at him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You can write whatever you want. I can’t read it. You wrote
me letters. Remember? I was afraid if you knew you you’d stop. I loved them. I
looked at them for years. You could have written ‘go fuck yourself’ over and
over and I wouldn’t have known.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“Some of them did say that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“I figured,” he laughed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">He is still in there. A glimmer of the boy he was.
Mischievous. Sarcastic. Quick-witted. Loving. Sentimental. Crazy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“By the way, I heard the
prom story, wise ass. Would it kill you to not make me look as bad in the next
one?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“You asked for it.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Beside the point. What about that time with Tippy?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“You got drunk and threw
Tippy off a roof!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“True story!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-16312531737833857022013-05-09T14:30:00.000-07:002013-10-04T10:56:20.320-07:00That Morning<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I heard my mother answer the phone. I could tell
by the grogginess in her voice it was before her early, which in some cases,
overlapped with my late. I didn’t have to open my eyes to know it was still
dark. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach. I have never been a successful
morning person, to this instant the thought of functioning before eight in the
morning makes me nauseous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyone
I have ever been acquainted with has known this to be true. By way of fair
warning or an unpleasant experience, didn’t much matter, it was nearly
folklore. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Something had to be wrong. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">My mother yelled up the stairs.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;">“It’s Lisa.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Lisa hadn’t spoken to me for nearly a year, until
that morning. A year I would give anything to not have wasted on petty
bullshit. I can’t even recall, with any certainty, what we had fallen out over
but I am confident it wasn’t worthy of silence, especially for such a long
period of time.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;">“Edward’s
dead.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">She said it just like that. Flat. As if it
wouldn’t kill me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">It couldn’t be true. I had talked to him hours
before. He was packing his stuff. He said he wouldn’t be late. I could barely
fall asleep, too excited to quiet my mind, knowing Wally was struggling
identically in his bed across town. I had missed him terribly. Edward joined
the Navy, regardless of my tantrum. He was no sailor. I was uninterested in his
contention that the uniform was a chick magnet. I had begged him, tears and
all. He went anyway. He loved that uniform and looked handsome, like Gene
Kelly. None of that mattered anymore. All of that was behind us now. He was
coming home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Erin?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I had to be dreaming. I was overcome with a
numbness; a terrible fog that would plague me again and again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;">“Did
you hear me?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I hung up the phone. I
got back in bed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Is everything ok?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I couldn’t speak. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Erin?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Edward’s dead.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I remained in bed for hours and stared at the
ceiling. The phone rang incessantly. I heard when Wally called. I could hear my
mother comforting him, distraught, herself. He called repeatedly. I couldn’t
talk to him. I couldn’t hear the reality in his voice. It was unbearable in the
abstract, let alone in actuality. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">By noon Wally was at my door. I could hear his
choking sobs as he made his way up the stairs to my room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“We have to go see his mother. Eddie would want us to.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You can do whatever you want.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Please.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">His voice cracked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I got up, brushed my
teeth, and, put on a baseball hat. My mother was standing at the bottom of the
stairs when we came down.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Erin, do you think you should go over in your pajama’s?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I shrugged and walked
out the door. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Edward’s house swarmed with people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt confused, light-headed, as if I
was visiting an alternative universe. I walked from room to room. I knew there
was noise. I could see the twisted faces of grief in every corner. The kind of
grief that is accompanied by wailing but I couldn’t hear it. His mother clung
to his most recent portrait, one that possessed the same smirk, as all of his portraits
held. He loved having his picture taken. It was remarkable how pleased he always
was with himself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">People spoke to me, hugged me, shook their heads
in disbelief, patted me on the back, I knew they were acts of condolence but I
could only see their lips move. The house felt hot and heavy. I needed to get
out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I sat on the front porch and stared at the house
across the street. My old house looked back at me. Still, white in color with
dark shutters, innocuous looking to the untrained eye. The site of my earliest
and most vivid recollections, the headquarters for all of our adventures and, the
last place I had ever felt whole, the place I was originally broken. I was
barefoot, wearing sweat pants and a Grateful dead t-shirt, so worn they were
barely worthy of pajama’s. I felt my chest tighten and my stomach turn. I
leaned between the balusters and vomited in the front bushes. People milled
around as if it were a cocktail party. I’m sure they wondered if I had cracked,
literally and figuratively. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You want to go?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Nah, I’m okay.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Really?
Cause you just barfed in the pachysandra and look like a homeless hippie. Your
mom dropped off some stuff.” He smiled, sadly. It was the first time I had
actually looked at him all day. He had aged overnight, as I’m sure I had, and
he had a suit on. I burst out laughing. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;">“You’ve had that suit on
all day? It’s ninety fucking degrees out! I hadn’t noticed how spiffy you were
looking!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;">“Says the shrub-puking,
bag lady! Fuck you. And a Sox hat? You know he’s a Yankee fan."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;">“Fuck him.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;">“Yeah. Fuck him.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">We almost laughed. What we could muster.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I took the stuff my mother left and went up to
Edward’s bedroom. We joked that it had become a shrine since he had left for
the Navy. He was the youngest and the favorite, in that “absence makes the
heart grow fonder”, kind of way. I looked at all of the things he had
collected over the years. His rainbow suspenders hung from the back of his open
closet door. Boy scout badges, posters, drawings, decorated his walls, rocks,
seashells, a diorama of Rome he had been particularly proud of from 5<sup>th</sup>
grade, condoms, phone numbers, matchbooks, ashtray, occupied the top of his
dresser.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A crucifix resided over
the bed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Pictures were tucked into the wood frame of his
dresser mirror, various girls, but mostly picture of the three of us. Our high
school portraits, the wallet size, of both Wally and me, the three of us from
Lisa’s graduation party, me and Wally dressed as hobo’s for Halloween when we
were ten. Edward and me at our eighth grade graduation from catholic school, the
three of us, smiling, after making a seeming fortune, before we got in trouble,
for caroling for a fake charity, Edward’s going away party, the three of us in
front of his house, him in uniform, smirking. A Polaroid of Wally and Edward that
I took before they left for Boy Scout sleep away camp. I told them I was taking
it to remember them because I was sure they were to be eaten by cannibals, when
in truth, I just wanted to scare them into staying home, afraid they would have
more fun without me and never come back. I don’t know how he ended up with it.
Stolen is my best guess. He had total access to everything I owned and rifled
through it often. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">A framed picture I had made for each of us sat on
his nightstand. Us three. Sharing a hammock and a cigarette the Thanksgiving
prior. The last time we would see him; our very last moment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I lied on his bed and held his pillow to my face.
I closed my eyes and breathed him in, as much as I could tolerate; a vain
attempt to fill a void that would forever exist, Edward, my first penis, my
first cigarette, my best friend, my first terrible fog. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-68900766006619100562013-03-26T19:20:00.001-07:002013-03-26T19:28:30.326-07:00The Lunch Lady<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">It was a day like any other. Wally, Edward,
Peanut, Sal and I were busy building a Big Wheel ramp of stolen cinderblocks
and plywood. It was not our first attempt to fly on our bikes, but a new design
was necessary, one we hoped wouldn’t result in Wally getting stitches in his
lip, like the last time, even though him talking like Fat Albert never got old.
It would be near impossible to get him to test the upgrades but I tried to
coerce him nonetheless. While I begged him to tryout our new device, with the
amended safety features, we were overcome by the sound of sirens, fast
approaching. We did what any other band of unsupervised seven year-olds would
do. We hopped on our bikes and headed in the direction of whatever drama was
unfolding. Nothing exciting ever happened in our neighborhood, especially in
broad daylight, and we weren’t going to miss it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">The last time something almost exciting happened the
fire department had to come help Mrs. Harrison, who was a million years old, out
of her bathtub. Hardly earth shattering but traumatic since we could have lived
our whole lives without catching a glimpse of Mrs. Harrison’s saggy ass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Sal still brings it up with the same sense of
dread and wonder he had in that moment. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;">“How can someone’s ass
look like that? It couldn’t be just age, right? She must have been in a fire or
something.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">It didn’t matter. From the sound of it this was a
much bigger issue than Mrs. Harrison’s ass-flesh. Well, maybe not for Sal. We peddled
as fast as we could. Even Peanut, the last to sport training wheels, was
curious enough to keep up. We arrived to the top of the hill and were frozen
with shock. Completely unable to process what scandalous event must have been
taking place inside the Owen house. Our jaws slack. Fire trucks, police cars,
neighbors milling around, obviously distressed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;">The hearse.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">We had seen the hearse before when Wally’s
great-grandma had died after she went crazy. Wally and I saw her through the
screen door peeling potatoes naked just a few days before. Mrs. Janesky waved
her bottle at us, told us to get lost and called us “nosy little fucks”. Wally
said he didn’t think he would ever eat potatoes again and doubted his ability
to play with his new egg of silly putty. Which required no explanation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;">This was different. This was serious.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Mr. Raymond, the man who picked up old lady
Janesky, came out of the front door with a body, covered in a sheet, on a
stretcher. We all knew the Owen family. Patty was in Peanut’s class, first
grade, same as us. She was a sweet, quiet girl with pigtails, who always wore a
dress. I didn’t play with her. She was too well behaved for the likes of me. Her
mom was our lunch lady, a vibrant woman who had a breezy, carefree attitude. Mrs.
Owen looked like a character from The Mod Squad. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"> “Someone must be dead,”
Edward offered.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span> “It’s like
being with Kojak himself,” Sal sniped.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span> “I’m just
saying.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span> “Who’s
Kojak?” Wally inquired.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;">“Duh. A famous detective?
On t.v.?” Sal was nine and the worldliest of the bunch.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;">“My mom only
lets me watch Sesame Street. Sometimes the Electric Company, until the black
guy comes on. Then she turns it off. She says Jimi Hendrix doesn’t belong on
t.v. . Who ever that is. And, Zoom? Pffft! Out of the question!”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"> “Wally! Stop
babbling.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span> “I’m scared.
I think we should go home.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">We were terrified with good cause. Patty and her
two brothers stood in the picture window and stared blankly at the ensuing
chaos. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span> “Hey! Look!
It’s Patty! Hi Patty! It’s me, Peanut! Patty!” Peanut attempted to procure
Patty’s attention as she was put into the back of a police car.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span> “Aw, man!
She’s lucky! I wish I could get a ride in the back of a police car!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I was sick with envy. Then her brothers were put
in the same car. She never looked in our direction even though Peanut waved at
her like she was in a parade. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span> “Who’s in
that car?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Wally pointed to a lone police car, lights
flashing. We snuck a little closer. A man sat in the back of the car with his
head hung. We got close enough to see it was Mr. Owen. He looked up at us. He
had blood all over one side of his face and on his shirt and tie. There must have
been a terrible accident, a terrible accident. The sight of the bloodied Mr.
Owen sent us home faster than the songs of the sirens had drawn us. Mr. Owen had
turned into a monster. We were convinced of it as we breathlessly piled into
Fran’s studio.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span> “Fran, you
won’t believe what we just saw!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span> “Why does
she call him that?” Sal asked Wally.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Wally
shrugged. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Fran didn’t look up from his drawing board as we
told our tale. The sirens. Mrs. Harrison’s saggy ass. The hearse. Old lady
Janesky peeling potatoes. Mr. Raymond. The body. The free rides in the police
car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mr. Owen covered in blood.
All of it, the whole sordid story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I could see Fran’s jawline pleat, in and out, in and out. I knew he was
thinking or getting annoyed, same jawline betrayal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“I’m going to take a walk.
You stay here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“Aw, c’mon, Fran!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Fran shot me the look. You know the old saying
about a face being able to stop a clock? This was similar. We sat on the curb
in front of my house and anxiously awaited his return. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“What do you think
happened?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“Maybe Mr. Owen got into
fight.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“It had to be an
accident.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“Maybe he owed the mafia
money. My Uncle Jack owed them money and they came to his house and cut off his
thumb. He says he can only hitchhike in one direction now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“That’s stupid, Sal. Why
would Mr. Owen get money from the mafia?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Sal shrugged.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“Who’s the mafia?” Wally
inquired. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">“Ask my Uncle Jack.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Finally, we saw Fran breach the hill. He was
white. We ran in his direction to see what he had found out. We barraged him
with questions. He said nothing. He held my hand while we walked home. It was
then I knew it was bad. Fran told the boys to go home and to tell their parents
that he would be calling them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Once alone I peppered him with questions in my
subtle, wily way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span> “Well?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span> “I have to
call the Janesky’s. I can only hope the old man picks up. I hate talking to the
mother.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">So much for my investigative skills, I sat on the
studio stairs and listened to him dial the phone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"> “Sue? Fran. Wally tell you
I was going to call? Yeah. They told me the same story so I took a walk. I
don’t know why they didn’t come tell you, maybe because you are half in the bag
by noon. Does it make a difference? Charlie Owen went crazy and killed Kathy.
How am I supposed to know? Maybe he was half in the bag too. Stabbed her. In
front of the kids. Charlie Jr. hit him over the head with the fire poker.
That’s all I know. I’m sure you will tell it much more colorfully than I will.
Feel free to call the henhouse. Save me the trouble. Yep. Bye.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Stabbed? To death?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In front of Patty? Fran rounded the studio stairs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"> “World has gone crazy, huh?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">It certainly had. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Fran drove us to school the next day. The car was
silent. Our usual, rousing, rendition of the Popeye song didn’t even cross our
minds, let alone our lips. We all knew the horrible truth. Well, what we could
process of it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">By lunch I had almost forgotten about Patty and
Mr. Owen’s bloodied face and the body. Wally and I made our way to the
lunchroom. At a table in the far corner we spotted Patty eating her lunch, a
wide berth surrounded her. I don’t know what compelled us to sit with her. We
had never done so before and would never again. She looked through us just as
she had the day before. Wally and I took out our lunches. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"></span> “I guess
your mom can’t be our lunch lady anymore cause you’re dad killed her, huh?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">It seemed reasonable commentary to my seven year-old
mind. Blunt. Unedited. Detached. My adult self remains horrified. Patty focused
on my face for a brief moment but said nothing. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I never heard Patty utter another word in our long
acquaintance. It could have been a profound retreat from reality or a deliberate
silence for a select insensitive few. I have yet to forget Mrs. Owen’s kindness
or the carelessness of my seven year-old self towards her daughter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Mr. Owen was released from prison after serving
thirty-eight years for killing his wife, our lunch lady. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I don’t know what became of Patty and her
brothers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-20114912826223822932013-03-08T13:18:00.000-08:002013-03-17T10:11:55.821-07:00Dom: The Early Years<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7623901342167624571" name="_GoBack"></a><span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I hated Dominick
DePaulo. I don’t use that term lightly or often, if ever. When I heard Dom had
been found dead, wrapped in a tarp and stuffed in an old refrigerator, I felt
relief. A crushing weight that I had carried for decades sloughed off me, like
sodden sleet from a rooftop. I realize the cruelty of such a statement but that
is how I felt. Exactly. I understood why someone would beat Dom to death with a
fairway wood. I had fantasized about it a million times. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">We met when we were twelve, Dom and I. He was the kind of
kid that would drift from neighborhood to neighborhood, terrorizing anyone too
timid to defend themselves. A marauder. Deft. Cruel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was no stranger to cruelty for sport but Dom was no typical
oppressor, his skills became as notorious as water boarding, and I wager, much
more destructive. I have no idea what kind of home he came from nor have I
tried to find out since. I have no desire to find empathy for him. He didn’t
deserve any of my kindness. I doubt any witness has forgotten his crimes
against humanity. His malice, in no small part, shaped who I was, who I remain.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I suspect I’m not the only one. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Wally and I rarely ventured beyond the six-block radius
of our neighborhood. He hated change of any kind. Occasionally I could coerce
him out of his comfort zone with the promise of Swedish fish or catching
salamanders. Salamanders were not my idea of fun but it was my only way to
escape the boredom of the neighborhood, with company. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I had finally talked Wally into venturing behind the
office park where woods waited to be explored. It took months of begging and
shaming to convince him. The woods had a reputation for hosting high school
parties and harboring melon heads, a breed of freaks discharged from a local,
long debunked, psychiatric hospital that may or may not have existed. The
potential of melon heads was enough to incite a full-blown anxiety attack but I
assured Wally that melon heads only came out at night, although I didn’t know
that to be true.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">My heart pounded with excitement as we rode our bikes
down the path into the woods that first day. I could smell the must of rotting
leaves and stagnant water. Trails marbled the terrain. I was temporarily
carefree, an unusual place for me to be. The other shoe loomed. We stumbled
upon him quite by accident. I knew in an instant he would prove formidable,
even for me. I had learned to spot cruelty in people at a young age.
Self-preservation, I venture.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Who the fuck are you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Wally and I stopped in our tracks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Wally Janesky. We have gym together.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Wally? What kind of homo name is that?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well, it’s my grandfather’s…” Wally trailed off. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Your grandfather must be a homo.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I don’t think so. I mean, he’s been married to my
grandmother for a really long...”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Shut up, asshole. I could give two shits about your
family tree. I’m sure you come from a long line of fags.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Who the fuck are you?” I chimed in or at least it
sounded like me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I could hear all of the air leave Wally’s body as his jaw
hit the ground. Dom looked at me as if he hadn’t even noticed me until I spoke.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Huh? Who do we have here? Did you just run, I mean,
waddle, away from the circus?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Fat jokes. Why didn’t that surprise me? I could tell Dom
was stupid, but mean, ultimately a deadly combination, one that might force a
person into a vacant refrigerator. Just saying. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I’m getting called a freak by one of the lollipop kids?
I’m not taking any shit from a fucking midget. Sorry, “little person”.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I watched all of the blood drain from Dom’s face. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Dom was short, really short, teetering on yellow brick
road short. It didn’t feel like breaking news to me but apparently no one had
yet to mention it to him. I must admit to having a knack for fishing out one’s
Achilles’ heel with relative ease. I have the nuns to thank for that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I didn’t know that Sasquatch’s could talk?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Wally decided to speak up in my defense.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I think you might be confused. Sasquatch are very hairy
and tall. Erin is way to short, I mean, not as short as you, but too small for
a Sasquatch. Even a baby one, I think.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Shut up, you fucking retard.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Wally buckled. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">As abusive as his parents were, and as awful as we all
were to each other, Wally never seemed to acclimate to the dysfunction he
endured. He was genuinely surprised when someone was mean to him. I never
understood it. I planned on it. Even still, I hated to see him hurt. He had
enough of that at home and didn’t need more shit from some little woodland
troll with self-esteem issues.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Look Dom, or whatever your name is, we’re just going to
go. You can crawl back under your rock. You little putz.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Wally and I mounted our bikes and rode away. Dom yelled
after us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I’m not done with you and your pig girlfriend, Waldo.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Great. And he forgot my name.” Wally whispered to me as
we rode off. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“That’s your takeaway, Wall? Wow.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">We warned the rest of the boys the second we returned
from our unfortunate encounter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Erin pissed off Dominick DePaulo and now he is going to
come looking for us!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I pissed him off? He was pissed when we got there! He
called you a fag and a retard!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Wally nodded. No need to deny the truth so close to our
joint pending death. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“But you did call him a midget.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The rest of the boys gasped in horror. They all began to
mutter in a panic. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Oh, my, God! You called him a midget? What is wrong with
you? He’s going to kill us!” Sal shrieked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“You don’t care because you are in catholic school.
Public school is a zoo. We will be publically humiliated!” Peanut agreed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The rest of them sat there like death row inmates,
awaiting their collective fate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Don’t be such pussies,” my textbook response, regardless
the conundrum. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Great. Now we’re being called pussies by a girl.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I knew it was only a matter of time before we came across
Dom again. Wally had been staying off his radar at school and had his mother
write a note saying he had ringworm so he couldn’t play gym for the rest of the
semester. Two weeks had passed and we all started to feel a false sense of
security. We went about our usual business of bike rides, relentless torturing
of each other, cigarettes and minor pyromania. Then, when we least expected it,
they came; breaking the horizon, steam still rising from the newly paved hill,
like hell itself was coming. It resembled a scene from an old western where the
cowboys appear out of nowhere and overrun the poor, unsuspecting Indians. I was
no unsuspecting Indian. Being an Indian will cure you of that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Wally spotted them first. A dread came over him in an
instant.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“What are
they doing here? How did they find us?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Because we live two blocks away, Wall. Don’t freak out.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Don’t freak out? How can you say that? He’s going to
make me eat dog shit! I know it! He made Bruce Warner eat dog shit and told him
if he threw up he’d kick his ass and that is exactly what happened. Bruce ate
it and puked and Dom and his friends beat Bruce up so bad he peed his pants! I
know he is going to do the same thing to me! I know it!” Wally was in a complete
panic, as Dom and his two sidekick flunkies, dropped their bikes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“No he’s not. I promise.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“You can’t promise things like that!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Sure I can. Do I need to get you a paper bag to breathe
into? Relax. This is our park.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Dom walked right up to Wally. I almost burst out laughing
from anxiety. An inappropriate tick I still battle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Look who it is, fellas! Two ton Tilly and her fag
boyfriend, Waldo.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Uh, Wally
and she’s not my girlfriend.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Thanks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Why are you a faggot Wally? I think you are a fag.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Dom pushed Wally. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“You said this wasn’t going to happen,” Wally pleaded to
me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Suddenly he was not so embarrassed being my friend. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“You can’t push him.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Really? What are you going to do? Sit on me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I’d like to say that his banter improved with age but he
never progressed beyond that of an insecure, mean, cold, twelve year old.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“You can’t just show up here with your retard sidekicks
and think you can push us around. We won’t stand for it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Stand for it!” Dom cackled. He hated me for reasons I
had yet to recognize but I knew why I hated him. He was a nun. Malicious,
emotionally stunted, despicable. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“You can stand for it, sit for it, roll for it! I could
care less what you think you fat, disgusting pig.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I could hear the catch in Wally’s breath. He was hurt for
me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Listen, I know you feel bad because you are a dwarf or a
midget or whatever the politically correct term for mini-freak is and just because
Pritzy Cook said you need a string to find your sad little pinky dick doesn’t
mean you can take it out on us. See a doctor. Find a midget girlfriend.
Whatever. Just fuck off.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Silence. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">All eyes were fixed on Dom. He was apoplectic with anger.
I could tell he wanted to cry with frustration. He got on his bike. His moron
minions followed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He yelled, “I’ll be back, you fucking pig. You’ll be
sorry!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I already was but I had found his truest source of
humiliation- a teeny, tiny penis. Karma at its finest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“How do you know Pritzy Cook?” Wally asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I don’t. I just hear you idiots talk about how hot she
is.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“Well, how did you know she saw Dom’s penis?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“ I don’t!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“You lied?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“I should have let him make you eat dog shit.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Dom would be back. I knew this was only the beginning.
Dom was to be my life-long enemy, my antagonist, the at-home version, until the
fairway wood. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-89241918276141855632013-01-26T23:57:00.002-08:002013-03-17T10:12:10.129-07:00The Feats of Fast and Fabulous Fran and his Cat-like Reflexes<!--StartFragment-->
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">
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<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My brother and I went everywhere with Fran. We met his friends for breakfast at least three mornings a week and watched him play softball almost every night. That doesn’t factor the countless judo classes, baseball practices and art classes. Wherever he went, we went. I don’t know why. No one else’s children were ever there. It wasn’t as if we enjoyed tagging along, necessarily. His friend’s plied us with hush money for candy, which was nice, and, pasting one of his prized judo acolytes was a particularly treasured little fuck you for Fran, but, those opportunities ran few and far between. In retrospect, I think he brought us as a way to suppress his anxiety, moral support out in the world, his own traveling cheering section. I don’t know how supportive we were or cheerful, but we went. If my brother was unavailable, Wally was a willing conformist and anything was better than his house, Fran’s dentist was no exception.</span><br />
<div style="text-indent: 48px;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 85pt;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Dr. Harry was one of three local dentists. I’m sure there were more if you were looking but the three seemed to suffice. His office was conveniently located upstairs from Spark’s candy store. Having never been to a dentist before, I couldn’t confirm or deny that it was the same as the other two. It was dark and itchy in the way that wool covered chairs get from chronic smoke exposure. It smelled oddly familiar, like my grandparents house. Clean, kind of. Old smoke. Books.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 85pt;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Dr. Harry was a slight man with a nervous energy that tied my stomach in knots. I bit him once by accident. Hard. I could tell he stifled the urge to slap me, but barely.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 85pt;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Wally and I stayed in the acrid smelling, bleak waiting room, looking through Highlights magazines, older than we were, with puzzles done years prior, waiting for Fran, when we heard the commotion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“The fucking Germans!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Wally and I exchange a suspect glance. The “f” word? At the dentist? The sound of stainless steel crashing to the ground was followed by Fran’s authoritative “hit the deck!” Hit the deck? Germans? It was 1976? I watched M.A.S.H and Hogan’s Heroes. I knew my history. Fran’s only exposure to Germans was Colonial Klink too. He was in the National Guard, on weekends, on the Cape, hardly active duty, unless drinking and baseball counted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The room held its breath. Sounds of snarling and tussling, like hungry dog’s wrestling for a pork chop, came from behind the exam room door. A disheveled Dr. Harry emerged.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Nurse, the patient seems to be having a reaction to the sodium pentothal.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Seems?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Fran came staggering out from Dr. Harry’s office. My jaw went slack. I fought the urge to laugh, a mechanism I still default to under duress.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“I’m good. I’m fine. I’m much better now. I’m just going to go home and sleep it off.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“You can’t go anywhere for a while. Especially if you are driving.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 85pt;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Dr. Harry looked at me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 113pt;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Make sure your father stays put.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 113pt;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I nodded. Still stunned from the spectacle. Dr. Harry returned to his office with his nurse in tow. We could hear them nervously chatter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 113pt;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As soon as the door shut behind them, Fran put on his coat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Alright, let’s go.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 113pt;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Fran seemed fine but that was relative. A little unstable but he had bad knees, barely noticeable. Luckily, we lived less than a mile from Dr. Harry. Wally and I stayed plastered to the backseat as Fran clipped every curb, narrowly averting several mailboxes, singing. “Sweet Caroline…whah, whah, whah…good times never seemed so good.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 113pt;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We arrived home, not our worst ride with Fran, not even close.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Whew. I feel much better. I don’t know what the hell happened! I thought I was fighting communists!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 113pt;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Communists? Weren’t the German’s Nazis? Maybe not, in Cape Cod.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-71129534079442148782013-01-07T21:43:00.000-08:002013-03-17T10:12:22.935-07:00Robbie<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The circumstances that led
me to Robbie are inconsequential. They were careless, potentially dangerous,
but accurately representative of where I was at the time; still, not one of my
better ideas. I liked him instantly; it was visceral. I’m not sure why. I
suspect it comes from a deep, dark place: not evil, necessarily, but certainly
unexplored. A sane woman may have attributed his immediate appeal to a chiseled
face and quick smile. I’d like to think that too, but I know myself better than
that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Truth is I didn’t notice
his face, not at first. I was captivated and stunned by my reaction to him. My
fear is that I have discovered sensitivity, an appetite, for profound damage.
It fascinates me; at least it did in Robbie. Fixing him didn’t interest me, I
was attracted to the way he was broken. It spoke to my own damage and he knew
it. He recognized in me the same malady. Being in his company, privy to his instability,
his intense desire, overwhelmed, and intoxicated me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He told me I was beautiful
the second we met. He may say that to every woman he meets, but it didn’t
matter. He meant it in the moment. It was palpable. He touched my face, my
hair, my skin, unabashed. He asked repeatedly, did I mind? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He slowly lulled me into reverie.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Robbie had a fetish, the
first I’d ever come in contact with. He disclosed his obsession early. He had a
confidence about it but not a comfort. His privation made him feel weak, exposed,
but it was clearly beyond his ability to control. His vulnerability caused him
to be defensive. I knew I would remain at an arms length for whatever the
duration of our acquaintance, even though he didn’t have to. It is unfortunate.
I hate to infer a man’s promise, as if I could somehow facilitate a change, as
if I were in any position to judge; that said, Robbie had tremendous potential
but was crippled in ways I can’t explain. His capacity was intriguing. I could
easily see who he could be, or maybe was, when not in my company. He was smart,
unpolished, unchallenged. He became a muse, inspiring me. He awakened something
quiescent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The premise of his fetish
threw me but made perfect sense. Robbie wanted a mommy. He wanted me to tell
him he was a good boy, which I did. He moved me. He needed nurturing,
sustenance, domination; in return he tested me, taunted me, drew me in.
Something in me wanted to nurture him, while feeding on him, using him to
explore the darkness I felt in myself, murky corners, screaming for
illumination. Robbie had a scent, a rawness that I had never experienced in a
man before. He was lean, smarmy and distractingly sexy. He looked straight
through me and had an intensity I wasn’t sure scared or exhilarated me, maybe a
bit of both. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The sex was powerful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The more available to him
I became, the more he was overcome with lust, like no one I had ever encountered.
He couldn’t control his constant commentary about how badly he wanted me, how
he loved my body, and he did. It was hard to not want to meet his needs when he
so clearly recognized mine and worked so hard to please me. He wanted me to be
proud to have such an attentive lover. His inability to find comfort in his own
skin made it difficult to fully enjoy him. He needed validation beyond the
obvious rapture I was experiencing. I didn’t have words, my body spoke volumes,
but he was deaf to it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My voice had long since
been silenced. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">His veneer of chain male
was sharp, unforgiving, impenetrable. He was compulsive in every way. He never
drank caffeine or consumed sugar. He chewed tobacco. He told me he hadn’t had a
good nights sleep since he was seven years old. I believed him. He looked
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He drank.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn’t sure if it was to quiet his demons,
provide him the courage to visit said demons or to facilitate a night of
restless sleep. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Robbie’s fetish, like
Robbie himself, had an obscure melancholy. He needed to be mistreated,
belittled emotionally. He insisted I take all my years of hurt, my disdain for
men, out on him. When it became apparent that I didn’t harbor enough pent up
rage or just found it impossible to tap into such pain for sport; Robbie would provoke
me. When I reacted with a hint of anger he would have an immediate and
involuntary reaction. Something would ignite deep in him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He stole my breath. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I was shocked that I could
find any compassion for another human being, let alone offer myself as I had
with him. Affection, lust, want, compulsion, sex; those were easy with him,
available to him. His darkness wouldn’t allow him to enjoy me unless I could
also be cruel, he denied himself any joy, deeming himself unworthy. Being
hurtful to him, a man already so damaged, was impossible. I doubted my ability
to love him but was confident in my inability to injure him. It made him angry,
frustrated, and ultimately, careless with my feelings. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Robbie claimed the need
for a smart girl, a nice girl, but was clearly suspect of me, who had accepted
him, who preferred him impaired. My tolerance is exactly what made me questionable,
incapable of being the smart, nice girl he sought, a nice girl wouldn’t want a
man like him. Maybe he was right. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My experience with him is
not something that ended, because it never actually began, it just exists. Stifling,
intense, vacant.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-89675242719880436692013-01-02T22:55:00.004-08:002013-03-17T10:12:34.838-07:00 Prologue<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;">
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-tab-count: 5;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 5;"></span></span> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Prologue</span></i></b></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2.0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">After 10 years of marriage, my husband
became reacquainted with a kindergarten friend who lived halfway across the
country, through fucking Facebook (which will rot your soul) and began an
affair that eventually ended our marriage. Bertha, a fictional name I’ve chosen
because it’s awful and conjures up images of wart-riddled faces and harelips,
was introduced as his friend, a relic from his past that he enjoyed reminiscing
with. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I was in no position to object. Most
of the true relationships in my life are with men so how could I squeak out any
form of protest. Although I did, and do believe, that I have mastered the art
of maintaining close friendships with the opposite sex. I doubted his ability
to do the same. I acquiesced nonetheless. He even asked my permission. Did I
mind? Of course I did but for no rational reason. I tried not to let my petty
insecurities get the best of me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The first month or so, Mark would tell
me about their emails and subsequent phone chats. Bertha’s son was going to
college, her husband was diagnosed with some God-awful terminal disease and she
was depressed, in need of support, and equally excited about their innocent
re-connection. Mark learned of her abrupt childhood relocation, what had
happened to her since, and everything in between; a minute-by-minute account of
all the who-gives-a-shit information a person can share.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I’m confident she endured a recap of
every high school football game, backseat hand job, and any other seemingly
relevant event, with the same enthusiasm I had 10 years prior. Mark empathized,
agonized and worried about Bertha and her trials and tribulations. He felt
useful and the sunshine being blown up his ass genuinely warmed him, it was
evident every time he shared a Bertha related story.<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Over
the next few months, Mark’s silence about Bertha made me question if their
friendship had escalated. I was assured that it was completely innocent and
reminded of the brass balls it must have taken to even question his integrity.
I lack many things but instinct is not one of them. Mark and Bertha’s
relationship had in fact developed into a perfect escape for them both. He
insisted my involvement outside of our house is what required him to seek out a
new barrel fire to warm him. He wanted to feel pretty, but who doesn’t? I
nourished my spirits with coaching, politics, writing, planning events, and
friends. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mark
and Big Bertha (why not) had both turned fifty. Mark had been lost for a long
while prior. He vacillated between callings from coaching to writing to
teaching to radio personality to the production of plays and the building of
hay bale houses. The list is virtually endless although his skills are not. I
encouraged his every endeavor with less and less enthusiasm as each project was
shelved for a better time, day, circumstance. My involvement in everything, not
only reinforced his self-induced status of less than, but fostered my immersion
elsewhere, where progress and success were tangible, even if not always
acquired.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
have always been a fairly stoic soul, just as the Irish had instructed, but
with the sudden death of my mother and the subsequent emotional demise of my
teenager I was unprepared for Mark to abandon me while I was in so much pain. I
felt robbed. I had seen a gradual decline in our relationship. Mark had been
depressed and we had endured some very difficult circumstances: death, financial
stress, familial issues, the usual. It doesn’t really matter how we got where
we got, I suppose. Our marriage was good until it wasn’t. It really is that
simple. Honestly, the most incentive Mark had displayed in years was in the
pursuit of his fucking Facebook girlfriend. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I’ll miss Mark, his family, and, our
shared life, but I was unable to continue living a life that was doing us both such
a definitive disservice. I’m angry and hurt but this will pass and I’m hopeful
that I’ll be all the better for it. Eventually I may feel that way about Mark
and maybe even his toothless, hag, fucking Facebook girlfriend, Bertha, but I
doubt it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In
all of our years together Mark never once suggested that my friendships with
other men were an issue for him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
never seemed threatened in any way. He had no cause. I have since found that he
was less than forthcoming with his concerns about my extramarital affairs,
although never had an affair taken place. He could justify drawing first blood
any way he chooses. The fact remained. Mark loved someone else. The event I
feared most upon accepting the existence of his fucking Facebook girlfriend had
come to fruition. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Mark loves the idea of Bertha; the
actual Bertha may not fare as well. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I packed my stuff, my teenager, my
tortoise Papi, and rented an off-season, furnished, beach cottage. My daughter
and I likened the experience to breaking into a decent Goodwill with a stunning
view. We didn’t have a single knife that could cut butter but we did have 17
claw crackers. It may sound like a drastic measure, and it was, but I had no
other alternative.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
is my nature, I began to write and sift what was left of me. It was clear early
on in my separation that my husband was going to do everything he could to
maintain his existence of mediocrity no matter how much he despised it. Change
sucks, no doubt, but at what point does maintaining dysfunction become more
energy intensive than change? I guess we each have our own threshold, our own
tolerances. I had exceeded my tolerance months ago and now met with the consequences
of my choices, I was afraid. At 44, with my only child leaving for college in a
matter of months, I doubted my ability to bounce back as I had so many times
before. I was back to square one and shaken to my core. I was lost and broken
and in need of people who loved me. I retreated to what, and who, I knew best.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I don’t know why all my friends are
men. I never understood why all my childhood friends were boys. It could easily
have been because I didn’t fit in with girls or it was just lack of access to
them. It’s a cart or a horse issue, as far as I can see. I have spent countless
hours in my adult life analyzing these relationships and have attributed my odd
circumstance to my less than traditional appearance and equally questionable
behavior. My direct and potentially abrasive manner has made me a more suitable
playmate for the not so gentle gender. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>From
a young age I had been compelled to collect fake boyfriends to supplement what
I was lacking in my immature and idiotic peer pool. They ranged from Scott Baio
to a pretty face I found on the back of a Jai Lai betting slip, belonging to a
young, dark, glamorous looking player, Javier. He was my first exotic fake
boyfriend. I cut him out and pasted him into the plastic sleeve of my Partridge
Family wallet. I broke out the grainy, abused photo and showed him to every classmate
I had. Although they too admired his beauty, they clearly didn’t believe the
exceptional twenty-something lusted after a 3<sup>rd</sup> grader, least of all
me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
I got older, I continued to rely on my fake boyfriends. They filled endless
voids in my life. Elton John, my first fake boyfriend, with Morgan Freeman’s
Electric Company profile a close second, provided a constant comfort in a less
than balanced life. I don’t know all of them personally, but I am confident in
the steadfast relationship we share, each a gift. Very few have been cut loose
over the years, although Scott Baio’s contract was never renewed. My additions
have also remained few and far between. As each boy or man, came into my life,
I kept them and loved them, no questions asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I am shameless in outing them, much to
their chagrin. They see our relationship as intimate and personal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not as if I don’t share their level of
intimacy I’m just not embarrassed about it. My primary relationship has
accepted my fake boyfriends, or most recently, found a fucking Facebook
girlfriend. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I have never been a classically
beautiful woman and discovered early on that I was not someone who could
blissfully coast through life in Jimmy Choo shoes and a size two dress. I had
to rely on other ways to communicate, seduce, deflect, manipulate, defend,
survive and cope. On no occasion have I felt that I was somehow born into the
wrong body. It may not be the body of my choosing, but confidently the right
gender. I may have had better luck with women if I were prettier or better at
pretending I was pretty. I always envied pretty girls but eventually learned to
forge with my strengths, as limited as they may be. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I’m not complaining. The men in my
life love me, in spite of themselves. They run the gamut, from drug addicts to
politicians, doctors to mob bosses, brilliant to borderline, and everything in
between. I would never suggest that all men love me. They don’t. There are
plenty of men who despise me as vehemently as the men who love me, love me.
They are some of the scariest and cruelest people I have ever had the
misfortune to meet and they mattered, even if they shouldn’t have.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">With Mark gone and my life in
shambles, I looked to the people who had supported and loved me,
unconditionally, or otherwise, my whole life. And to those who would, if they
could.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, still, to those who never
would, or could. These are stories about those boys, those men, as a thank you
or a fuck you, as the case may be, rolled into one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Garamond;">
<!--EndFragment-->
</div>
</div>
<!--EndFragment-->
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-42788196786955269232012-12-19T21:36:00.000-08:002013-03-17T10:12:49.250-07:00Pretty Boy<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I felt compelled to speak to him. I
can’t say why. I think it was his face. Perfection; angular, a quick smile
coupled with a quiet, lonely manner. I didn’t talk to him for a long time. I
spent the majority of my time staring at him. I attempted discretion, but
rarely have I been so taken by pure esthetics, nor have I ever been accused of
mastering subtlety. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I mean, George Clooney is beautiful
but part of his appeal is his actual or imagined charm. I didn’t even know if
this man had a voice. He could be a mute for all I knew. And, I should define
man, over twenty-one, but barely. I was uncomfortable with how attracted I was
to him, being twice his age. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I immediately talked myself in and
out of the differing postures my multiple personalities take on the topic of
younger men. Younger men are far more interested in me than men my own age, by
ten to one, at least. I can only attribute the phenomenon to unresolved mommy
issues and my obvious lack of maturity. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I recognize all the common taboos
attached to the perception of Mrs. Robinson, a forty year-old social anathema
that had shamed me from participating in any potentially nefarious activity
before. I’m not sure why. It could be that tight, purse-lipped, foot-tapping,
sin-assigning Irish Catholic inception; that roots in me, inherent. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hardly acquiesce to her but she triggers my
anxiety; takes my breath as I anticipate judgment. I catch and continue, weighted.
Still, I recognize how society views such entanglements, at least among my
inner quorum, my internal guild, rife with nuns, and hurt, self-loathing fat
girls in various stages of disrepair. I know the intent; to cheapen it, allege
taboo upon it, find a self-injurious resolution to assure it remains dormant.
Part of me buys into it every time; it keeps her alive, vital.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can feel her celebrate as she crawls back
under her rock. My inner ogre rewarded. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Fuck her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">She’d be angered by my defiance but
knows her contributions are limited. She’ll mutter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Pathetic.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I know who and what I am. I may be
afraid of all those who comprise my single being but we are well acquainted. My
apprehension about giving a beautiful man a compliment was ridiculous, beneath
me. This was no longer about him. It became my own private suffragette. I was
spiting the whole organization with this one, less than bold, gesture. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You have a
perfect face.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Perfect
for what?” he smiled. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My first
thought mercifully stopped at my mouth. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Nothing in
particular. Just perfect.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was stunning. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Thank you.
No one has ever said that to me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I won’t be
the last.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had the most erotic
dream about him that night. I almost felt guilty about it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Almost.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-19204000261574709252012-11-15T21:45:00.005-08:002013-03-17T10:13:02.596-07:00Apple Picking and Pedophiles<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Lisa lived two blocks from St. John’s. I had become a regular fixture at her house and spent most afternoons and every weekend with her, much to my family’s relief. I could never tell if they were happy I had a new friend or grateful I was never home, likely a bit of both. To remain under the radar, Lisa and I kept busy with a myriad of mid-level schemes. Bothering her brother Frank, although magical, ran its course early in any week and we’d be forced outside for our own safety.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
Many afternoons we’d return to our abandoned schoolyard, creepy visits, that lacked only a dirge to round out the profound sadness that existed there without the shrill of hateful sinners mucking up the place. It was like visiting a crime scene. We would find abandoned notes, full of gossip and 5th grade intrigue. Lost, wet homework, barely recognizable. Red rubber balls, the kinds that sting bare legs on a cold day. Dickie Berry’s defiled, uneaten, and, well-hidden pickle pimento loaf sandwiches.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
On one occasion, we found twenty-five dollars. Lisa suggested we return it to the church to see if anyone would claim it. I felt the church owed me something. They had repossessed my faith, after all. That had to be worth twenty-five dollars. She agreed. We went to Friendly’s instead. Poetic justice, if you ask me.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
Sometimes we would run into one of the parish priests. I was always filled with an equal sense of panic and excitement with these chance encounters. As much as I dreaded our enforced encounters, accidental meeting’s, were a whole different thing. Maybe I could inspire an independent opinion, as I had with Father Schmotzer. He was always genuinely happy to see me, even when compulsory, without fail, regardless the circumstance.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Aireen! What have we done today!”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
His thick Czech accent was as warm as his greeting.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
Father Schmotzer would bring fellow Jesuit priests from all over the world to visit our parish. Once he brought a young priest from Africa. We met him by happenstance. He was the blackest man I had ever laid eyes on. He had perfect white teeth and giant eyes. Lisa would smack me as a reminder me not to stare. He told us he ate peanut butter soup in his native country but had yet to eat a peanut butter and jelly. Lisa and I promptly went to her house and made him one. A peanut butter and fluff one, too. I took points from the church any way I could get them. Fluff would have worked on me.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
I told the grandmother about him.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
"Be careful,” she warned, “he may kill a chicken.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
That’s what she said.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
Monsignor Spevack was the priest in charge and hated kids; and of the afflicted minions I proved a particular nuisance. He said the Irish were shanty. A fact I could not dispute. I didn’t know the exact definition of shanty but thought he was probably right. My experience with the Irish had been a mixed bag of nuts, at best. Whenever he would answer the door to the rectory he would not speak to me. He would simply point to the old pew in the screened-in porch, where I’d sit until he would point to the door. No harm, no foul, really.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
Fr. Polosko was the third parish priest. A chubby, pock-faced man and favorite among my contemporaries; I liked him the least. During a Sunday morning sermon, Father Polosko conveyed his disdain for careless women who abandon their husbands and have so little regard for the church’s position on divorce. As we left mass, we passed him. As he phonily wished his sheep “bless-ed day”, he grabbed my mother’s arm. He said he hoped she had paid special attention to his sermon and that she should be ashamed of her failure as a wife and mother. My mother never attended mass again. I wish I could say the same.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
One Saturday afternoon, Lisa and I cut through the school yard and saw Fr. Polosko and Andrea Oliver, a girl a year ahead of us, unloading apples from the back of his new red Cadillac. I was instantly struck with envy. Apple picking? Why did Andrea get special treatment? What was wrong with this guy? How had my charm been lost on him for the likes of Andrea Oliver? Andrea wasn’t the only one either. A bunch of alter boys had visited his cabin in Vermont and went for pizza and to ballgames. Some of them were as big a sinner as me, a verifiable truth.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Girls,” Father nodded as we walked by.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Hi Father,” Lisa responded.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Halt!”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
We stopped short. Father waddled towards us.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Do you think you are too good to speak to me?”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
I almost looked over my shoulder. Father Polosko had never spoken to me directly. I was shocked. I had been fortunate enough to remain off his radar thus far. He was hardly ever at the rectory when I was sent for punishment. He would request that some of my classmates attend his face-to-face confessions. I never attended face-to-face confession. Although the flimsy screen in the confessional provided no real anonymity, I didn’t need to suffer any further humiliation by looking the guy right in the eye. When confession day came along I always sought out Father Schmotzer. He never made me feel ashamed. His absolution meant something to me.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“No,” I responded.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“No, what?”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> “No, I don’t think I’m better than anyone else.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Are you always such a smart ass?”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
The sting of hearing a priest swear stunned me stupid. This was not the first time I had been called a smart ass. In truth, it may not have been the first time that day. My father reminded me regularly that no one liked a smart ass, although I’ve found that most people do, in fact, enjoy a smart ass, at least in the circles I traveled. I felt my face get hot.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“What’s the matter? Are going to cry? I see, you can dish it out but you can’t take it.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
Father Polosko grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to his angered face.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“You will show me respect or you will rot in hell! Your choice.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
I looked Father Polosko in the eye.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“I’ll go where ever you won’t be.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
I ripped my arm from his grip. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Don’t ever touch me again.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
Father Polosko turned purple with fury as the door to the rectory flew open. Father Schmotzer stepped onto the porch like the arrival of Superman, sans the “S”.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Is everything alright, Tom?” he asked.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“This does not concern you, John. I will handle her,” he snapped.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Handle her,” he laughed. “Not this one! She is a free spirit.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
Father Schmotzer came down the stairs and took me by the hand.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Oh, Aireen! You have such a way!”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
Father Schmotzer walked me to the end of the street with Lisa following behind. He turned and took my face in his hands.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Are you alright, my friend?”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Yes, Father. I’m sorry.” I could feel my throat tighten and my eyes fill.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said as he wiped my face on his shirt.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Just stay away from him.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“He said I was going to hell.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“He should be as concerned with his own soul.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
I was sure I was going to be kicked out of St. John’s. Confident, that making the rock star priest lose his shit would be enough to break the camel. These were the only times I would actually pray. “Please, God. Make them send me back. And make me thinner. Just this once.” It became a habit that would stick with me for many years; praying, only under the most dire conditions. It never worked. The call never came.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
Lisa was waiting for me when I stepped off the bus.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Well?”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Nothing. He must have been busy. You know. That one day work week and all.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
Lisa rolled her eyes.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
As we approached our classroom, I could see the gaggle of black awaiting our arrival. Their contempt for me was palpable but unchanged.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Good morning, Sisters. Big weekend? You ladies look exhausted!”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
One would think I would have had enough sense to leave them alone but I couldn’t help myself. I can only equate it to what it must feel like to suffer from Tourrette’s Syndrome.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“You are wanted at the rectory.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Of course I am. I’m a big hit over there, Sister.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
I had to smile at the ridiculousness of the statement. She failed to appreciate the irony. I wasn’t surprised.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
After morning prayers I walked over to the rectory. My heart was pounding so hard it made me nauseous. Monsignor Spevack opened the door and gestured to my usual place of punishment.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“I’m not here for punishment, Father.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Then what do you want?”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“I’m not sure. Sister said I was wanted at the rectory.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“God knows I don’t want to see you.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
Just as I was about to be let off the hook, I heard the familiar shuffling of malevolence.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“What are you doing, you idiot? Why are you wasting the Monsignor’s time?”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“I was wondering the same thing, Sister,” he snarked.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“You are supposed to be apologizing to Father Polosko.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“For what?” the monsignor asked me.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“I can’t say I know for sure,” I said.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“I’m confident you’ve done something worthy of atonement.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“I’m sure you’re right, Father. You know how the Irish are.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Humph...that I do. He’s in the vestibule.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
With that Monsignor Spevack slammed the door.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
I skulked over to the church. St. John’s church was a scary place when full of parishioners, when empty, it felt haunted, heavy, the air thick with incense; dark and dismal. For a house of God, it wasn’t very well kept. They could have worked a little harder to warm the place up. Maybe people would want to go to church if it weren’t so depressing but I doubted it.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
I made my way to the front of the church, my heart visible beneath my starched white shirt, audible. I had never been near the alter before, confident a sinner like me would burst into flames, unwilling to tempt fate. As I got closer to the vestibule, I could hear voices, the curt tone of Father Polosko and another familiar voice. The second voice belonged to a boy. It sounded as if they were running around the room banging into things.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
I tentatively knocked. The room behind the door fell silent.
Polosko, straightening himself as he cracked open the door.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“What?” he said without looking up.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
I stared at him, slack jaw, unable to respond.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
He finally looked up.
“What!” he screamed. “What do you want?”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Sister told me I had to come apologize.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
The door opened up as my classmate, Richard Liptonpton, escaped out the door.
I was frozen. Polosko said nothing. We stared at each other for what seemed an eternity.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
Finally, he closed the door.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
I was unsure what had just happened but something had. That was evident. I never spoke to Richard about that day. His pained expression in my company was enough to warrant my silence on the matter. I kept his secret, whatever it was, although I wish I hadn’t.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
It was only a matter of time before I would have to see Polosko again. I held my breath every time I rang the bell at the rectory. It was a numbers game. One I was bound to lose eventually. I suppose I could have worked harder at behaving, no sense dissecting that in retrospect.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
The day arrived, sooner rather than later.
Father Polosko answered the door. His face went white. Father stared at me from behind the closed storm door. Something had happened. I could sense his distress. Similar to how a shark must smell blood. I was giddy with this shift in power. I had no idea how I had acquired it but I knew it had something to do with Richard Lipton.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“What’s the matter, Father? Too good to speak to one of your parishioners?”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
I would have felt sorry for him if I didn’t hate him so much.
We stared at each other in silence for several minutes.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“I don’t want to be sent here again and I don’t want you buddying up to my brother.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
I was never sent to the Rectory again.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
Edward said he overheard Polosko telling Sister James that if she couldn’t handle the discipline of school children maybe she should re-think her career choices. That was the first time I realized nuns actually chose to be nuns. Suckers.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-52736258327605587602012-08-13T23:14:00.003-07:002013-03-17T10:13:12.917-07:00The Summer In Between<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> My brother and I had been camped out with our ears pressed to the heating vent for months. My parents battles had escalated to a nightly event. It had become so predictable that Terry and I would set up pillows and snacks while we waited for the fighting to begin. We would count how many times Fran would use the “f” word. Our voyeurism would end without discussion as soon as my mother would cry. As much as we wanted to hear Fran’s colorful language and my mother’s criticisms of Fran’s questionable parenting skills, we had limits. My mother crying was our unspoken limit.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> My mother told me of her plans to divorce Fran and leave my brother and me in his charge as she drove me to my fourth sleepover at Lisa’s that week. I had begun to spend as much time away from home as possible. Truth be told, my family was just as happy to be rid of me. I was difficult under the best of circumstances. I was convinced I had been the cause of all of the household problems as it was, but the reality of being without my mother was devastating.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> What was Fran going to do with us? What if I got my period? What if he forgot to pick me up from school? Who would cook and do the laundry? The only thing he could cook was fondue, and not real fondue; oil in a pot with leftover meat and Saucy Susan hardly constitutes fondue or real food, and, the one time he did do laundry he turned all of the white clothes pink, including my brother’s baseball uniform.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> My mother assured me that I shouldn’t worry about such things. She would handle everything. I loved my mother desperately but I knew she wouldn’t handle anything. She would try but she wouldn’t be successful. Paralyzing shyness, eroded self-esteem and fear would prevent her from mustering the courage to cross Fran.
I arrived home on the last day of school to find my mother packing her Datsun B210 with garbage bags full of her belongings. I just stood and watched her sob and pack. We didn’t speak a word.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Summer had arrived as my mother left.
I was coming off a tough year and was ready for the reappearance of normalcy. Whatever that meant. My mother was gone. I’d miss her but nothing the salve of compulsive eating couldn’t soothe. I had hoped that I would have the summer to convince my parents I had changed, maybe even display enough personal transformation to warrant a trip back to my old school. I wanted to return to my life, the one I had before I was a sinner, when I was innocent. Summer would save me as it had so many times before.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> As little kids, Edward, Wally and I would go on adventures, pockets stuffed with cookies, magic rocks, bottle caps, baseball cards and homemade weapons. I’d like to say I never used my eclectic array of fashioned armaments but that would be a lie, one that can easily be substantiated. A rock wall ran the length of our block and provided endless hours of salamander hunting and precarious crag from which any potential drama could sprout. A trapped foot or a dropped trinket into a dark, potentially snake-ridden crevice, too scary to gingerly fish around in, are risks taken by true adventurers and we were those explorer.
Many a risky rescue took place at the highest peak behind the Stein’s house. The rescue usually consisted of us throwing rocks at the trapped hiker until he leapt to his death four feet below.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Those days of exploring the wall, or the hours of innocently playing with matchbox cars under our giant oak tree, were long gone. Thinking about it made me nostalgic for simpler times. Times when I could pretend my parents had a good marriage, when nuns were merely cloaked, evil dwarfs that travelled in packs, were gone. I longed for those days of blissful ignorance, before I was a gluttonous sinner, before I was ashamed of who I was. I missed my former self but I knew she had died, a slow, painful death: a Christian death.
None of that mattered at that moment. I could breathe again, full shameless breathes, one’s I didn’t have to feel guilty for taking away from those more deserving. I didn’t have to see those nasty women, accept in church, where I'd openly antagonized them without fear of retribution, overly confident about never seeing them again. I wouldn’t spend a second in that rectory for the next three months, or ever, if I had my way. I am in no way trying to cheapen the intended sentiment, but, I was, free at last.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I had dreamt of summer for weeks. Fantasies rich with baseball, ice cream and kick the can. There were 13 boys my age in the neighborhood and my presence was required to make even teams, no matter how begrudgingly the offer was made. With a neighborhood full of kids, a game of Wiffle ball could last all weekend. Breaking for meals and peeing, well, I broke for peeing. The boys just peed where they stood, a classy bunch.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> By Sunday night the score could easily be 63 to 77, as it had many times before. With so many boys in the neighborhood I welcomed the opportunity to introduce Lisa to the mix. I had assumed they would treat her the same way they treated me, tolerated at best, and liked on the whim of the pecking order. I was mistaken. Lisa was a real girl, who knew?
I was stunned.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> You would think they had never seen a girl before. They tripped over themselves trying to impress her. It was then I realized how real girls were treated. I wondered if they knew how foolish they looked fawning all over her. If they had taken a minute to know her as a person and not a bra size, they would have realized she only had eyes for ballet dancers and their wasn’t a dancer in the lot. It was going to be a long summer.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> My brother seemed unmoved but the disaster that had become our life. As long as Bugs Bunny wasn’t being taken off the air, he seemed okay with all the chaos. Maybe he was just better at keeping it to himself. Things didn’t feel much different for the first few weeks. The house was a lot messier, we ate cereal for at least two meals a day, and my father seemed unconcerned with my whereabouts. We would see my mother on weekends, if Fran allowed, and the rest of the week just blended together.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> All rather innocuous until the emergence of the grandmother, the bathrobe fanatic, who began appearing at my home, everyday, at the crack of dawn.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I would try and escape before she arrived. I’d stagger, bleary-eyed, out into the neighborhood, greeted only by skunks and garbage men. I’d sit on the curb and wait. Wally usually woke up first. He’d say it was because of the barrage of rocks flying at his window. I did find throwing them by the handful was the most efficient.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> We’d sit outside Edward’s house until Edward’s old man got home from his night job. It was the only time he was friendly. Edward would eventually roll out to the curb, half-dressed, barely coherent.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Finally our day could begin.
Eventually even I had to go home. Eaten alive by mosquitoes? Or the grandmother? It was a tough call. The grandmother ran a tight ship. Regardless of my lack of sailor qualities, she demanded that I lose weight, clean my room, and act like a respectable Catholic girl. She continued the genocide of my spirit, picking up where the nuns had left off, the attempted exorcism, seemingly necessary, to rid the world of chubby little smart-mouthed girls.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> My only hope was to wear her down, if I could. She had skills. I had met my match, or maybe, she had met hers.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-13539349357065697732012-08-11T23:47:00.000-07:002013-03-17T10:13:51.303-07:00Johnny Ray<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I loved Johnny Ray. John Wayne Ray to
be exact. He wasn’t a rock star or a famous ball player. He wasn’t my childhood
crush. He was my first real love, first true heartbreak, and my reluctant prom
date.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">To the best of my knowledge John never
finished high school. I don’t know if he even started but I didn’t care. He
looked me square in the eyes, unlike most boys who still struggled with the
concept of girls being people. He was edgy and hot-tempered but to me he was
protective and warm. He told me things I know he never told anyone else. He
told me he loved me everyday. The connection we shared was beyond that of any I
had prior to knowing John.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Our first meeting consisted of him
throwing himself on the hood of Lisa’s car as we caroused Cornwall St. looking
for my wayward friends. At first we thought we had run down some poor soul who
was trying to make his way across the street until he sprung to his feet,
laughing like a lunatic and ran off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It was love at first collision. I was
an instant, faithful follower; a stalker before stalking was fashionable. He
behaved badly from day one. I forgave his every indiscretion to my own peril. I
spent hours composing perfectly written letters describing every nuance of the
on goings in my high school world. He would spend hours sifting through them. I
doubt he read them. I suspected he couldn’t. He said he liked to look at my
handwriting it looked like art to him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Soon after we met he started to call
me Heather. At first I was offended that he had forgotten my name. I mean,
really? When I finally mustered the courage to remind him of my actual name he
said he decided I needed a change. Erin was not a pretty name and Heather
suited me better. Did he say I was pretty twice removed? He said I could change
his name if it would make me feel better. I hopped on the opportunity. I called
him George. Not for any reason except it set me apart from the others. There
were many others. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">They came in many forms these
“others”. Cheap looking, smelling of strong perfume or booze, older, tattooed,
some didn’t have teeth and they all had bad dye jobs. I always felt that he was
kind to show these otherwise unlovable women friendship until I found him having
sex with Karen Heifer on a bathroom floor during a house party. I was devastated.
John was too. He struggled with the disappointment he caused me. I convinced
myself he had too much respect for me to have sex with me in virtual public,
let alone on a filthy bathroom floor. His lack of private interest I attributed
to an affection that surpassed tawdry liaisons. I was not like the “others”. It
didn’t occur to me that his lack of interest was exactly that: a lack of
interest. It wasn’t cool to be in love with a fat girl, even if he was. I
realized, in his world, I was the one who was unlovable and I was forever
changed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As my prom quickly approached, I abandoned any
fantasy of my knight in shining armor, or a Black Sabbath t-shirt, swooping to
my dateless rescue. John surprised me. When the passing mention of my prom came
up he insisted on being my date. I was thrilled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My prom memories consist of primping
all day, putting on a massive royal blue dress, and trying to convince myself that
I was pretty, only to have him tell me I looked like Martha Washington. His
mother slapped him on the back of his head. Until that moment she was so proud
to see John, dressed in a tuxedo, with a nice girl. Let me clarify that if I
am, in fact, "the nice girl", something is radically wrong. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It didn’t take long to realize the
prom was really just an opportunity for John to peacock around. He posed for as
many pictures as he could. I was happy for him. I remember. He had lived a
difficult life and he was entitled to feel good about himself even if it was at
my expense.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">After the prom we arrived at the
traditional prom night motel. I was sick with anxiety and hope. I opened the
door to find it crawling with fifty of his closest and drunkest friends. They
had written Cornwall Rocks on the wall in red paint. I think it was paint. I
hope it was paint. I was so overwhelmed by the tight quarters, the drinking and
the fighting that I eventually went home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">John walked me out to the car, held my
face in his hands. He sweetly kissed me on the lips and told me he loved me.
Only me. Just like always. It was all worth it. As I piled my huge blue dress
into the car I saw Karen Heifer arrive. Prom night was over for me. Johnny, on
the other hand, was going to get some more use out of his tux.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-34067377275278174822012-04-16T09:32:00.002-07:002013-03-17T10:14:04.823-07:00Out With the Old<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Lisa decided it was time to wear eye shadow. I left those kinds of decisions up to her. She may not have had a clue but she was better equipped than I was. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“We are teenagers and I think we better step it up. Which means you will have to comb that hair everyday.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Everyday? Do you have any idea how painful it is combing this mess? And for the record we’re in the same school.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“You pay a price for beauty, Erin. And, for the record, we’re still teenagers.” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The week before school started Lisa and I went to the local drug store to buy our supplies. With my mother gone, and my father oblivious on how to deal with a pre-pubescent, smart- mouthed daughter, money was no object. I would start a sentence with “Fran, I need” and his wallet was out. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Get whatever you need.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Lisa and I arrived at our first day of school sporting blue eye shadow, red lips and hoop earrings. We were looking fine. Everyone noticed. It was a new year, a new look and a new nun, Sister Raymond.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sister Raymond, clearly jealous of our beauty, made me go wash my face. Edward asked why Lisa was able to keep her make up on and the class was informed that fat girls should not draw attention to their mortal sin. Mortal sin! How the hell did that happen? I mean the blue eye shadow might have been a bit much but a mortal sin?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Mortal sin, Sister? Its just make up.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“It’s not the make-up, and you know it! Don’t be an idiot.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Apparently, permanent records are no joke and she received mine, chock full of my blasphemous past.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“This is going to be a year of change for you. You’ll see. I can break you and we start today!”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Break me? This couldn’t be good. Change is never good. (Although, the double-stuffing of Oreo cookies was brilliant.) A nun with a mission scared me half to death. Sister Raymond disliked me from day one even though I thought I had won her over by mentioning her dead ringer big star looks. Puzzled, she asked, “What in good God’s name are you talking about?”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sister Raymond was the biggest nun I had ever seen. She was the biggest woman I had ever seen. I was convinced I had seen her in a movie called “The World According to Garp”. She was nearly flattered. She may have even thought I wasn’t as bad as she had been warned. The next day she hated me all the more. At first I didn’t understand the sudden change of heart, then I realized someone told her the “actress” I was referring to was John Lithgow.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">After morning prayers, Sister Raymond would walk up every aisle, eyeballing each of us, straightening ties, fixing collars. It was the same everyday. She would stop at my desk, make a sour face, suck her teeth, and, shake her head. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“See children, this is what not to do!” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">She would cackle at her own pathetic attempt at humor. I would laugh along with her. This is what would happen just before all hell broke loose. I was, and remain, unmoved by pending doom. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Is your desk clean today?”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Clean is so subjective, Sister. I do believe it is free from sin if that’s what you mean.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I could hear Lisa roll her eyes from across the room. Sister Raymond, bent with rage, violently tossed my desk across the room. I felt exposed, all of my belongings splayed across the floor, my classmates stunned with disbelief.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Do you see this, students? It is as I suspected. She is a slob.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The word “slob” hit me like a freight train. I knew what she was inferring even if no one else did. It wasn’t the first time I had heard the word, although it was usually accompanied by the word fat. It was then I knew I was in for a fight. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sister Raymond had decided to make my desk dumping a daily event. It may have stopped had I not added fuel to the fire. She was quicker than she looked and, in full nun regalia, she could spin, pivot and dump in one fell swoop. It was impressive. To compensate for my continued embarrassment, I would act as if her desk dumping was actually beneficial. This sent her over the edge she so perilously straddled. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Look, Sister! My long lost homework! Thank goodness I won’t get an F now! Thanks, buddy!” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Get out! You evil creature! Go to the rectory! Now!” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As I walked to the rectory I noticed a moving truck unloading the meager belongings of our new priest from Czechoslovakia.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Young lady,” Father said with his broken English.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Hi Father.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Where do you belong, my child?”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“I’m on my way to the rectory for punishment.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Punishment? What could you have possibly done wrong?”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“I’m not really sure, Father. Nuns don’t seem to like me much.” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Oh, dear, I find that hard to believe.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Just as the Father was almost liking me, Sister Raymond came flying across the schoolyard. Since you could never see their feet they looked as if they were flying, I suspected it was the broom up their ass. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Father, I’m so sorry you have been bothered by this wayward trouble maker.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Sister, that seems a bit harsh. She seems like a perfectly lovely child” Father said smiling at me.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Humph, you could not be more misguided, Father! She is contaminated with evil.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Sister! She is a child! A gift from God! I’m surprised at you.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“You’ll see for yourself, Father.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sister Raymond stormed off. Father looked at me. All I could do was shrug my shoulders.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Sorry, Father. Now you’re in trouble too.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Oh, she doesn’t scare me.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“That makes one of us.”</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-37206120738971362882012-03-06T21:52:00.002-08:002013-03-17T10:14:31.843-07:00three<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">She was fine, yellow, but fine. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">She slept but would wake briefly and smile at me; her yellowed eyes still sparkling. I would slip into her room as quiet as possible. If she slept I could pretend everything was fine, fine. I sat next to her bed and began to weep. She looked at me with her wide smile.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Don’t cry, Erin. It’s okay”. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I held her hand. Those were the last words she ever spoke. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We had no unfinished business. I had spent her last weeks keeping her company, renting old movies, looking at pictures, watching her sleep, and laughing, always laughing. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I feared Lisa was going to die from the instant I knew she was ill. She, to the best of my knowledge, never thought she was going to die. It was accurately representative of our friendship. I would say I was a realist, she would say pessimist. She would say she was an optimist. I’d say she lived in a fantasy world. We chalked our friendship up to lack of exposure to normal people.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">When it was clear she was dying, the thought of being witness to it was terrifying. Lisa had already lived three days longer than anyone should have to. I watched her suffer, struggle for each breath and slowly, painfully slip away. So overwhelmed by my own grief, I did anything I could to stay occupied. When I was not completely engaged I would fall asleep like a narcoleptic. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As is the usual death protocol, my phone rang at 3 a.m. Startled, I was instructed it was time. I got back in bed. I weighed this choice. Could I really watch my best friend die? Would she even want me to? I put on my Red Sox hat and drove numbly to the hospital where I had spent 12 hours a day with her, her family, our friends. We joked, laughed, told stories, ate hot dogs and cried. I know she heard us, well, I know she heard me, I recognized her occasional look of disgust, even unconscious it was there. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">When I arrived at the hospital Lisa was barely breathing, it was the calmest I had seen her in weeks. She had come to accept her fate. I had not. She had found peace. As I stood there, half asleep and nauseous, waiting for Lisa to die, it dawned on me that this may actually happen. I was completely unprepared.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Then she left, just slipped off into her next life. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It was morning and there were arrangements to be made. I went with her parents to the funeral home. I picked out Lisa’s coffin. It was mauve with pick roses embroidered in the bedding. I went to her house to pick out her final outfit. As I sifted through her outfits, knowing I needed something loose to fit over her bloated shell, I could feel her guiding me to the “good stuff”. A pretty silk skirt and a cashmere sweater she had found in Paris the fall prior. I was sure the thought of her outfit being worn by a homeless guy outside the Goodwill was enough to flex whatever psychic muscles she possessed. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I spent the afternoon making arrangements for a post funeral luncheon consisting of the traditional after death fare of ziti and rubbery chicken.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I finally went home and tried to sleep but I could not stop seeing Lisa’s face. I found myself trying to find the exact moment Lisa died. There was no gust of wind, or religious occurrence, that would make you sense her passing.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">She was just gone; out like a lamb. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The following evening I gracefully, numbly, greeted hundreds of old friends, Lisa’s family, co-workers and acquaintances, all with the same pained smile plastered on my face. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">After Lisa’s wake, I thought to call Lisa and tell her whom I had seen. Tell her how fat, bald, old, divorced or enhanced so and so had become. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Lisa was not available to gossip.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We would never sit in confession together again. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">There would be no more tangoing.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-22630124650279124242012-03-05T20:38:00.003-08:002013-03-17T10:15:16.769-07:00"There Are Things Worse Than Death" an excerpt from "The Sisters of Perpetual Humiliation"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Having barely survived my first six months of Catholic school, I began to beg my parents not to send me back. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“I’ve been rescued!” I pleaded.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Saved” my brother whispered.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Saved!”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Erin, you had a note sent home every other day describing your sin du jour. You tormented the nuns, asked Monsignor if he became a priest because of his bad skin, made fun of a poor woman with the serious leg...” my mother paused.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Salami legs? I think that is the proper medical term, Mom.” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
My father laughed.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Fran! Don’t encourage her! She’s never going to get out of school!”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Mom! They aren’t teaching us anything. We are like sheep! Bleat, bleat, bleat!”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Enough” my father says. “You are going and that’s that. Plus your bleating could use a little work.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Fine.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
I stomped off to my room and called Lisa.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“They’re making me go back.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
Lisa didn’t even pretend to feel bad for me.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Thank God! I can’t believe you wanted to leave me alone with those nuns! We only have one week left until summer. I think you’ll survive. Plus we have our yearly field trip. You don’t want to miss that!”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
Yearly field trip, yearly, Garden School had monthly trips. Granted they were either to the library to practice the Dewey decimal system or to the Peabody Museum. Neither place interested me in the least but I could always find something to get into. The big trip Lisa was so pumped up about was to Old Sturbridge Village in Massachusetts. Old Sturbridge Village, according to an oddly excited Sr. Josephine, was a “must see”. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
I had no idea what to expect other than the humiliation I was confident I would suffer being seen in public, in my uniform, with nuns.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
Of course I had to ride in the window seat next to Sr. Josephine. Lisa sat behind me so we could sneak chat while the old bag dozed.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
After a seeming eternity, we arrived. “One of the countries largest living museums” the sign read. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Sister, you didn’t tell us we were visiting your family.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“You get out of line today and you’ll spend the rest of the day on the bus. Do you understand me?”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“And miss all the fun? Not a chance.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
Lisa pinched me from behind. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
People dressed in costume from the late 1700's through early 1800's, running wood mills, blacksmith shops, and spoke some weird form of English, was the big attractions, at least that is what I was told by my Old Sturbridge Village weary classmates as the arrived back to the bus. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
I had gotten off the bus, briefly. I was able to visit the first building, a home of some poor sucker who had to cook over a fire, sew all there own clothes, had no t.v. or telephone, and had to wear a ton of clothes no matter how hot it was. I tried not to ask any questions. I knew that always got me in trouble. There were cups, forks, shoes, pots and pans. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
Then I saw it.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Excuse me, what is this?” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Good question! That is a lice comb.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
The whole class reacted with disgust. The woman explained that lice and parasites were common and difficult to treat, not like today with a trip to the pharmacy. Without thinking I picked the comb up and attempted to comb Alexis Lake’s hair. She could have had lice. She had bad breath, they could have gone hand in hand, I was no doctor. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Sister, she touched me with that comb!” she shrieked.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
Sister Josephine was all over me. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“I warned you!”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“Sister, I think you are over reacting. If Alexis doesn’t have lice no harm done. If, in fact, she does, as I suspect, I’m doing her a favor." </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
I knew that was going to be the final straw but I also knew this was not the kind of place for me. Sister Josephine dragged me by my arm back to the bus, where I remained, in sweltering heat, for the next four hours. When the trip was over not a single classmate pointed out how I had missed all the fun. They all looked as if they had spent the afternoon grave digging. Lisa sat down behind me and spoke through the crack between the seats.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
“That sucked.” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
I didn’t doubt that for a second. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
My four hours had been well spent switching everyone’s lunches. I made sure Sister Josephine got Dickie Berry’s pimento loaf sandwich. That kid was due to catch a break. Everyone opened their lunches as we drove home. Most seemed temporarily confused but no one said anything, their spirits broken; except Lisa, who said “thanks”. I made sure she got Patricia Zeweski’s cupcakes. Patricia was looking a little chubby these days. She’d thank me if she knew. I was always thinking of someone else, such a giver.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-20742654466419363262012-03-04T09:17:00.001-08:002013-03-17T10:15:41.141-07:00two<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“I hate dances.” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“How would you know?” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“I’m not going.” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“It’s for your own good.” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“No, it’s for your good! You can’t go if I don’t go with you.” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“I never ask you for anything!” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Just social suicide, that’s all.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Don’t be dramatic!”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">That was something coming from her. She was already Oscar worthy with her professional pouting. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Why do you want to go so bad?” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">She lit up like a Christmas tree. She new she had me.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Because Eric Burns asked me and he is so cute. Please!” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Fuck, Lis! You get to go with Eric and I get stuck with Mitchell “man breasts”. This is not exactly fair.” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“He has a car and a fake ID. A few sips of Boons farm and you won’t care.” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“A few sip’s my ass and I’m not wearing a fucking dress.” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">There I was, in a fucking dress. A God awful one at that. Black with pleats, like a giant black accordion. My Grandmother picked it out; while she repeatedly mentioned if I weren’t so fat I might be able to find something more flattering. It would come in handy for her swiftly approaching funeral, I hoped. Lisa, in a desperate salvage attempt, tied a pink ribbon around my neck. I know people wondered if it kept my head attached.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Lisa looked pretty, as usual, like Cinderella. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“I can’t go out like this, Lis.” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“You can and you will! I did not spend all day getting ready for nothing.” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Perfect. I was stuck in my accordion dress, a pink ribbon around my neck, waiting for Mitchell “man breasts”. What had my life come too? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“You look pretty, Erin.” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Whatever, Mitch. Take a deep breath, dude, no need to make a spectacle of yourself, okay? Let’s quietly ruin my life. Ready Lis?” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Stop being such a baby.” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“There better be booze.” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As it turned out they do not manufacture enough Boons Farm wine to make Mitchell “man breasts” appealing but they do make enough to cause Eric Burns to throw up on Cinderella. He’s not so cute anymore and should rethink the amount of macaroni and cheese he eats prior to drinking…just a suggestion. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We were back at Lisa’s by 9 p.m. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“I wish I had a chance to dance.” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I got up and offered Lisa my hand. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“I know I’m not Eric Burns but I promise I won’t throw up on you.” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Lisa stood up and we started to tango. We had no idea how to tango but we didn’t care. We laughed and tangoed. From that point on we tangoed at every party, wedding, funeral, or any event, appropriate or not. We didn’t care and we laughed just like the night of our first tango and I never threw up on her, although I did poke her in the eye with a rose stem once. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">She bitched about it for a decade.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-18811414271147643882012-03-01T21:42:00.003-08:002012-03-01T21:49:23.736-08:00oneI looked over to see her smirking and shaking her head, in digust. <br /><br />She looked like a nymph, slight and tiny with a Dorothy Hamill haircut and ears that came to a fairy-like point. She was delicate, graceful and soft-spoken. <br /><br />“What are you doing?” <br /><br />I was busy trying to steady a chair under the convent window. I was everything she was not. Clumsy, loud, large with curly red hair that lent itself to the theory I was off. <br /><br /> “I’m doing research.” <br /><br />“We’re ten.” <br /><br />“So what! I want to know if nuns have hair. I think it would explain why they were so mean. Being hairless would make me mean.” <br /><br /> “They are mean because you make them feel stupid.” <br /><br />“Whatever. You gonna help or what?” <br /><br />“Fine,” she complained, as she steadied the chair I had procured from her neighbor, Salami Legs. <br /><br />“Did you rob this chair from Mrs.Wayda?” <br /><br />“Borrowed.” <br /><br />Lisa tried to keep the chair steady. It wasn’t high enough. After the acquisition of a milk crate, it was perfect, albeit <br />perilously unsteady, but an ideal view. I peered into the window. <br /><br />Lisa prattled on, like she did, assuring pending disaster and called parents. <br /><br /> “Lisa, shush! We’re gonna get caught because they are going to think they hear a trapped cat out here. Stop moaning.” <br /><br />“Trapped cat, that’s funny.” <br /><br /> Finally able to look in the window, I was flabbergasted. Sister Jacinta, crammed in her girdle and habit, dancing to the Bee Gees. The shock knocked me flat on my ass. The noise could have “woke the dead” Sister Jacinta would tell the Monsignor, my parents, Lisa’s parents and Ole’ Salami Legs. <br /><br />We were sent to confession. <br /><br />Lisa went first to save time, three Hail Mary’s. <br /><br />Me?<br /><br /> I should have packed a lunch. An entire rosary, pew polishing for a week and I had to make good with Salami Legs by “helping” her after school for two weeks. Everyday I prayed as I walked up her porch that she had finally broken out a pair of pants. It never happened. She must have been proud of those big, swollen, red, salami-looking legs. <br /><br />They disturbed me. <br /><br />I was grateful that when I left I would always find Lisa waiting at the corner. <br /><br />“Pants yet?” <br /><br />"Nope, but she caught me staring at them.”<br /><br />“She get mad?”<br /><br />“Nope. She asked if I wanted to touch them." <br /><br />"Did you?" <br /><br />"Good God, no!" <br /><br />"That's what you get for staring." <br /><br />“Whatever.”Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-78818792462852686242012-02-17T20:34:00.001-08:002013-03-17T10:16:14.225-07:00Class Pictures<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I saw the pile of folders on Mrs. Yakovich’s desk the second I arrived to class. I knew from the pale blue paper with clear, crinkly plastic window that our school pictures finally arrived. We would have to wait all day to get them and then be advised to open them at home with our parents. I was confident this year. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The year before had been a disaster. My mother, on a sewing bender, had made my outfit. A red polyester paisley suit with a white turtleneck, only to be exacerbated by the shortest haircut ever. A style my father coined the "Auschwitz". </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This years picture would be near perfection. I obsessed about my outfit for days. I had a yellow sweater, maize to be exact, with brown pants with maize stitching and flowers at the cuffs. I was thrilled when I arrived at school and found Mrs. Yakovich had made a similar fashion choice. Finally, after six torturous hours, Mrs. Yakovich announced it was time, and, as I suspected, we were advised to wait and give the folders to our mothers. They were, of course, in alphabetical. Carl Asanti. Bonnie Butterfield. C’mon. Finally, Mary Ann Lisi, Michael Mallord, Erin McLaughlin. I clutched my packet to my chest and ran for the door.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I couldn’t wait to bring my packet home and spread out my pictures all over my bed, saving my class picture for last so I could savor each face, each outfit, each closed eye. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In my hurry I failed to notice Mrs. Spornack, on her bike, or her daughter Lily on foot. They were behind me as usual. Lily would speak to her mother in a loud voice, so I could clearly hear, that no one liked me because I was fat and always looked a wreck. This day I heard none of their snickering and hurtful comments. My mother had spoken to Mrs.Spornack on more than one occasion. She was smugly advised that kids would be kids.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Mrs. Spornack yelled ahead to me.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"Where’s the fire, Erin?"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"I want to get my pictures home. It may rain."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"Yeah, cause she thinks she looks good and wants to see. You should have seen her picture day, Mom. She thought she looked so cute."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"That’s not true. What do you care anyway?"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"Watch your tone," warned Mrs. Spornack.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I hated them both. They looked like ferrets.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Mrs. Spornack stopped her bike and took Lily’s pictures and went right to the class picture. Both burst out laughing. I did not let this sway me. I kept right on walking. I knew better than to run. I had heard their earthquake jokes before.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"Don’t bother hurrying, honey. I can’t imagine a bigger version of this could be better."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I stopped dead in my tracks.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“I told you, Mom. It doesn’t matter she always looks like a slob.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Well, honey, be grateful. It’s not all her fault. Her mother should be helping her.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Her mother’s ugly too.” </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Oh Lily! You’re terrible!” They roared with laughter.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Something happened in me at that moment. A rage came over me that I had never felt before. I turned around and started to punch Lily in the face as hard and quickly as I could. I had never hit anyone with such hate before. By the time Mrs. Spornack was able to get off her bike, Lily was bloodied and screaming and I was running home. I knew Mrs. Spornack would be close behind.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I came through the door and ran past my mother up to my room to await my fate. Within minutes my doorbell rang. Mrs. Spornack was on my porch, holding her smug bitch of a daughter by the arm.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Look what your animal did to my Lily.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Kids will be kids” was all my mother said as she shut the door in their faces.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I sat in my window and watched Mrs. Spornack and a bloodied Lily leave my porch. Mrs. Spornack turned to look back at the house. We made eye contact. I gave her the finger. I wasn't entirely sure what that meant but I knew if pissed Fran off when people did it to him.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My mother never mentioned the visit from the Spornack's and they took an alternative route home from then on.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I still needed to see my pictures for myself. I opened the package careful not to make too much noise. If they were as bad as Mrs. Spornack said I wasn’t going to give them to my parents. I was still ashamed of last years photos. I pulled out the main 8x10 that would be put in the frame over last years debacle. My heart sank. My hair was a mess. My new shag haircut had not held up during dodgeball and it was sticking up everywhere. And why didn’t I remember to smile with my mouth closed? My crooked teeth were ugly. And why did I smile so wide it made my double chin look even flabbier? What the hell was I so happy about anyway?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Maybe the class picture would be better. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I scan the picture row by row. Mrs.Yakovich looked beautiful. Opal and those ears, Robbie and his crazy cowlick, Frankie in his suspenders. The next row was all girls. Lily Spornack, pre-beating, in a red glittery shirt and fake smile, Sara Summors with her giant forehead, Jessica Forman, whose father had backed over and killed her little brother the summer before. Then it happened, I scanned my own face. I was stunned. In a sea of seeming misfits, I was a true stand out. I was fat, unkempt and sloppy. I looked worn, aged. Mrs. Spornack had been right afterall. I had tried so hard. I felt almost cute and put together and maybe even pretty. How could I have been so wrong? There was only one thing to do. I went into my brother’s perfectly neat and arranged desk and found a red marker and a pair of scissors. I carefully opened the folder that housed the atrocity and in my very best handwriting recorded the names of each of my classmates. The space provided for my own name i left empty.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I proceeded to remove my picture from the rest. I took my brother’s safety scissors, he was too young for sharp objects, and carefully cut between Jimmy McDaniel and Wally to my own picture. I scooped out my image and flushed in down the toilet. I had to. I went back to the side of the folder where I had carefully recorded the names of my classmates. I saw the blank space that would hold my name on all the other class pictures. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I imagined some would say my name and some would say fat girl. I was confident some of the pictures would be defaced with blackened teeth and ghostbuster circles.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I took my red pen and wrote my name in its proper place. I may not want to look at myself but I did exist. Didn’t I?</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-6920941240935624192012-02-16T20:23:00.000-08:002013-03-17T10:16:32.812-07:00Micky Caselli<!--StartFragment-->
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<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></i></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;"><o:p> </o:p></span>Mickey
Caselli lived across the street from me. He was the only child of a meek and
abused English teacher and a sadistic, alcoholic father. I never saw either of
them. I was in high school before I ever laid eyes on Mrs. Caselli, after 15
years as her neighbor. I knew her story, and she mine, we both kept them to our
selves. She and Mickey were perpetually injured, something everyone just became
accustomed to, devastating in retrospect.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Mickey was
six years my senior. He had a basketball hoop in front of his house, an
otherwise dismal place. I would come over, sheepishly, cookies in-hand, hopeful
I would earn my keep if I bore gifts. A sleeve of flower shaped, fudge filled
cookies would be my entrance to his company. Mickey told me that I didn’t need
to come over with cookies and that if people only wanted to be my friend
because of what I had to offer, they were, in fact, no friend at all. He always
stood by that theory. He never made me feel like a pest or unwanted in any way,
but we always ate the cookies, me sitting on the curb, him shooting baskets. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Mickey taught
me how to box when I was seven years old. He said with a smart mouth like mine
I’d be using my right hook as often as any Golden-glover. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“Ok, you
little smartass, let’s see if you’ve got anything to back up that mouth! Move
your feet! Get your hands up!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">He’d swat at me until I took a legit swing at him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“There she is! That’s what I want to see!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">He’d laugh,
with a broad, genuine smile, proud of himself, and, me. He was a regular kid,
filled with joy, until the fender of his father’s white Impala turned the
corner. Time would freeze for him in front of my very eyes. I didn’t understand
the abrupt daily death of my sage trainer but it was palpable. I couldn’t
comprehend the cruelty that lived in his house but I watched it arrive,
everyday at 5:30.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Mickey was
a great athlete, never good enough for his father, but the kids in town
worshiped him. There were rumors among the kids that his father would show up
at his baseball games drunk and beat him in the parking lot after the game, win
or lose. His spirit never seemed to break, unlike his bones.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">One
mischief night, the brain trust, consisting of Walter, Edward and I, decided to
ring doorbells, soap windows and string toilet paper from trees. We were an
original and creative group. After toilet papering Mrs. Silverfarbs’ house and
ringing the doorbell, we ran. We jumped through the bushes that lined my house,
which, by the way, was directly across from Mrs. Silverfarb’s house. Walter,
overly confident in his physical abilities, jumped headfirst. Hopeful of a
graceful, MacGyver type roll, only to get stuck, head first in the thicket. He
screamed and flailed. Edward and I laughed so hard we were rendered helpless.
We tried to assist him but we were unsuccessful at extracting him before Mickey
came out and saw what we had done. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">As it turns
out Mrs. Silverfarb spent 8 months a year in Boca and would not have seen our
handy work until mid-May. Mickey said he was disappointed, that we should be
nicer to the old bags. In exchange for his silence we had to agree to shovel
all of the old ladies driveways for the whole winter, for free. We did and he
supervised every snowstorm. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Several
years after my extensive training in pugilism, I had an actual fight, not my first,
but my first with an audience. I was in my front yard, pre-fight, playing
whiffle ball. I had just hit a line drive over Mrs. Pulaski’s hedges. I made my
way to second base as my sparring partner pulled up on his bike: a boy, two
years my senior.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“Earthquake! Earthquake!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Initially, I ignored his uninspired taunts. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“You gonna cry, fat ass?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“Do I look like I’m gonna cry, loser?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“You calling me a loser, fat ass?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“You are the only loser I see.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“Fuck you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Ah, the “f”
word, only broken out for special occasions. At that young age it still came
with a hefty punishment. I knew we were going to fight. It was far from my
first altercation and I knew how to expedite the process.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“Faggot.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I would be
lying if I didn’t admit the enjoyment I experienced the moment I knew I had
gotten under someone’s skin to the brink of madness, a skill perfected early on
at the expense of the nuns. I also knew that calling a boy a faggot was
fighting words. He dropped his bike to the ground and came at me. Our brief
exchange had caught the eye of Edward’s dad, who sat on his front porch, beer
in hand. An instant later, every kid in the neighborhood stood as spectators. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“You want to fight, fat ass?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“Well, I don’t want to dance, faggot.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">He took a step at me. Mickey intervened.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“Whoa. You can’t hit a girl. You’re twice her size. You wanna fight?
Fight me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">That wasn’t
going to happen. Mickey was a tough kid and we all knew he had the capacity for
violence. Brian, my opponent, took another step closer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“What’s the matter? You can’t fight your own battles, fat ass?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“Don’t pay
any attention to him. I think you should be able to hit girls, especially one
as ugly as you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Brian was
enraged. He came at me like an animal, near tears from embarrassment and fury.
I took the first swing, just as I had been instructed to. “Don’t wait to get
hit, Erin.” Words to live by. My fist connected with his jaw and laid him out
flat. I straddled him and beat him with every ounce of fat ass ferocity I
possessed. Bleeding and hysterical, Brian tried to escape my wrath
unsuccessfully. My mother saved his life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“What the hell is going on? Erin! Stop! Look what you are doing!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“He called her a fat ass. Well, then she called him a faggot.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">My mother’s
jaw dropped in shock. I shrugged. I knew I couldn’t count on Walter for muscle
but he was loyal, even if a bit too honest. The information changed things a
bit for my mother, I could tell. Her hesitation in yanking me off Brian
solidified my confidence that I wouldn’t get in as much trouble for fighting,
this time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“Ok,
everyone go back to what you were doing. Fight’s over. Maybe next time you’ll
think before you call someone a fat ass.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Brian got
on his bike and never came to my yard again. My mother was angry. She turned to
Edward’s dad, still on his front porch, ringside. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“Ed, why didn’t you break it up?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">“He called her a fat ass! She was winning!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">My mother
shook her head in disgust as she dragged me into the house to face my
punishment. The crowd had dispersed except for Mickey. He stood in the street
in front of my house, bursting with pride. We made eye contact. His jaw set, he
nodded at me and mouthed “good girl”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I never
became the “boxer” Mickey would have liked, but I did know to defend myself, by
just hauling off and cracking someone. No grace or finesse, as he would of
preferred, but effective nonetheless. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Several
years ago my father called to say that Mickey had called him. Fran had not seen
or heard from Mickey in at least 15 years and he had moved twice. Mickey
tracked him down through Edward’s parents. He was in need a few hundred
dollars. He said he had been in trouble with drugs and a bad crowd and was going
to use the money to “right a wrong”. Fran said he either gave Mickey $500.00 to
straighten out, or paid $500.00 to never hear from him again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Mickey
used the money her borrowed to take his estranged wife and little girl to a
carnival. He bought them dinner and took his daughter on rides. They had their
picture taken on the back of a camel. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Mickey
dropped his family at home, rented a room at a local hotel and hung himself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-49720740235223286112011-02-06T22:20:00.000-08:002013-06-18T12:53:03.975-07:00marco polo and skunksEdward’s backyard abutted that of our friend, Hoppy. Hoppy, a hideous nickname given to him by his mother, encouraged, well maybe encouraged is a bit strong strong, but he never refused an opportunity for us to dress him in drag. Hoppy was almost game for any make-over and, truth be told, he didn’t look half bad in a tube top and eyeshadow; which was more than I could have said. <br />
<br />
Hoppy had a pool. In the summer, we would play endless hours of Macro Polo. The pool was small and round, which made Marco Polo similar to trying to find each other in a bathtub. If you had a big enough wing-span, like Eddie did, all you had to do was helicopter around until you clipped one of us. I had perfected a stealth-like move of quietly lifting myself onto the edge of the pool to keep myself out of Marco’s reach. <br />
<br />
One afternoon, during a particularly heated game of Marco Polo, I used my wily avoidance tactic to escape being caught. I lifted myself onto the flimsy corrugated metal trim. The warning clearly posted, “Do not sit, jump, or dive, from edge of pool”. I had read it a thousand times. I actually read it that very instant, the one that came just before I lost my balance. I fell out of the pool and hit the back of my head on the one and only tree stump in Hoppy’s entire yard. I remember falling and I remember coming to. <br />
<br />
The three idiots, who also learned all of their life saving techniques from Bug Bunny, were throwing buckets of pool water in my face. I nearly drown in addition to acquiring my first, of several, concussions.<br />
<br />
My “rescue" was nothing short of miraculous, a story that rapidly grew in infamy. Apparently, I was perilously close to needing a trach fashioned in a life-saving instant from a ball-point pen. We watched a lot of M.A.S.H. too and we were pretty confident in our pen knife tracheotomies.<br />
<br />
Soon after my near death experience, Hoppy’s father decided we needed a less potentially litigious way to piss away our summer and decided to build us a club house. Hoppy’s father spent weeks transforming a shed into a play house for us. We four spent days decorating; curtains, paint, table, chairs, radio, a hidden ashtray, all the creature comforts of home with none of the hassle. It was brilliant. <br />
<br />
When our club house was complete we hosted an official open house for the rest of the neighborhood kids. We were boastful and dying to see if any of or friends, hopeful to retain a wait list position, could successfully mask their envy. I masterminded the entire event. <br />
<br />
Everyone came for a look. We handed out cookies and discussed the promise of a parent free pad with all the luxuries of home; including the hidden ash tray. We were royalty. An apartment of our own. Granted, the four of us could barely fit in the small shed, any sudden movement had the potential of serious injury and our only running water was from Hoppy’s hose, but we didn’t care. We had the coolest party house in the neighborhood and everyone knew it. They left our open house defeated and begging for membership to of our elite, albeit tiny, digs.<br />
<br />
The next day we arrived at our club house to bask in our victorious open house. As we approached the backyard, we were overcome.<br />
<br />
“Jesus, Eddie! How do you smell so bad?” I asked.<br />
<br />
"Shit! That isn't me!"<br />
<br />
"Hoppy, is your mother cooking cabbage or something?"<br />
<br />
"You people are the only ones in this neighborhood who eat that crap."<br />
<br />
Very true. The closer we got to our clubhouse the stronger the odor. <br />
<br />
Hoppy ran to the door and it flung open only to be met by a mother skunk, her young, and a smell so putrid, that to this day the mere recollection of can curl my toes. The immediate projectile vomiting of Hoppy did not scare off the rancid intruders but did solidify my conviction to never set foot in our clubhouse again.<br />
<br />
A few years later we stole the clubhouse and used it for firewood.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-57511890528737648102010-03-15T18:38:00.001-07:002013-03-17T10:17:22.996-07:00Me & Wally<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;">It seemed like a good idea, but they
always did. We had all the necessary tools. Scotch tape? Check. Loose-leaf
paper? Check. Matches? Check. I could see Wally pacing outside my window,
waiting, his lips moving. I knew he was debating. He sat on the curb, head
hung, scooping dried leaves. I startled him, as usual. It wasn’t a hard thing
to do. He was a jumpy kid who lived on raw hot dogs.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>They weren’t going to be real
cigarettes. I knew those stunted your growth and Wally was already nearly a
midget. Homemade cigarettes were a whole different story. They wouldn’t have
any chemicals in them, besides the loose-leaf paper and scotch tape. All he
needed to know was that our cigarettes were “all natural”, a reassuring term to
keep Wally from a complete anxiety attack. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We were both aware that trouble was
always moments away. Wally’s mother did not think I was a suitable playmate and
wondered how he only seemed to misbehave in my company. I was sure it was
because he spent the majority of his days stooped and drooling in front of old
F-Troop reruns eating Charlie Chips. They were so lazy they actually had the
chips delivered. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous of that. <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 0in .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We sat on the curb and carefully
rolled the dry maple leaves into the loose-leaf paper and taped them shut. Of
course I had to go first, Wally was always so nervous. I never did figure out
why. I lit my cigar concoction and smoked away. I felt a little sick but knew
there was a greater good involved. I couldn’t stay six forever. I made one for Wally.
I thought his should be bigger. “Alive with pleasure” just like the ad said. I
rolled a big, fat, log of a cigarette. He complained like he always did but
relented as quickly as he disclaimed. He timidly put the cigarette to his lips,
queasy with anticipation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I lit Wally’s cigarette for him; he was afraid
of matches, along with everything else. The flame barely touched the end of his
cigarette and burst into flames, like the trick cigars on Bugs Bunny. The shock
threw him on his back. I slapped his forehead fire out almost instantly, bangs
weren’t right for him anyway. He had black soot on his face and was crying. Wally
immediately got up and sprinted home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“C’mon Wally, you’ll be fine!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Famous last words.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That was the first time I set Walter
Janesky on fire.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7623901342167624571.post-15665345218936683032010-03-15T18:36:00.000-07:002013-01-27T00:26:21.815-08:00Edward's Penis<!--StartFragment-->
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<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">The first penis I
ever saw belonged to Edward. He lived across the street from me and we shared
everything, including our best friend, Wally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I adored Eddie. He had a finished basement and older brothers with far
more pressing issues, keeping his parents otherwise occupied. We spent
countless hours in the sparse, damp, enclave, eating cheese doodles and
listening to music.<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The penis day began like any other. Edward
and I sat on his couch listening to Billy Joel, singing Scenes From An Italian
Restaurant at the top of our lungs. We were thirteen and Edward had started
smoking cigarettes. He could be found roller-skating around the neighborhood wearing
rainbow suspenders in homage to Mork, forever trying to pick up girls. He’d
skate up, suspender clad, heater in hand, and irresistible, with the most
contagious laugh, and use some line like, “hey there I seem to have misplaced
my number can I have yours?” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had
already had several girl friends; unheard of amongst the band of boys we played
with. Edward had abandoned his fear of girl cooties by the age of eight around
the same time he felt his first breast. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember the penis event clearly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Een, have you ever seen a...you
know...a dick?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Other than you? No.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Edward
was not one to mince words. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">“Ha,
ha, very funny. So, do you want to see mine?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Good God no! Why would I?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">“Trust
me, I’d be doing you a big favor. This way you won’t be shocked when you see
one for the first time. Well, the second time.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It sounded reasonable to me. I’d be
lying if I didn’t admit to being curious. I had no sexual attraction to Edward
but he was a boy and he was willing so what the hell?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Fine. Why not.” I shrugged.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Edward pulled back the blanket in
his lap to reveal his penis. An involuntary gasp of shock escaped from my
throat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“That may be the ugliest thing I’ve
ever seen. No kidding.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I know, but watch what it does.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Suddenly, without provocation, it
started to move. I was stunned and horrified and a bit envious that I didn’t
have an equally remarkable body part. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What the...”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I told you that you’d be shocked!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">He was
right. I was shocked stupid.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">“How
did you do that?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I have no idea. It happens all the time. I
don’t do anything. It just does that. I have absolutely no control over it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yikes. Does it hurt?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It’s nearly killing me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Edward
and I both looked down at his now shrinking appendage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">“That
is disgusting,” I finally mutter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-align: justify; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">“It is and
that’s not even the worst of it.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Garamond; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I was confused but knew enough not
to press.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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