This is another installment of my Autobiography, "One big dirty joke." I've been flip flopping around from different parts in my life, with the intention of going back later and putting it all together. So right now I am 18 years old, and it's about two weeks before I have even heard about Gratitude training.
My head feels as if it’s stuffed with cotton balls. The windows are open wide but no breeze is coming in and the smell of dog piss and body odor clings to everything. We shoved two single mattresses together in the living room and now the five of us are huddled together. On the porch and in the kitchen more traveling kids are hiding in the shadows. Every now and then you can hear them cough on the smoke from the pipe being passed around the house. Of course no one enters the back room, not even to use the bathroom tacked onto it. Sarah has locked herself in there with her record player and loneliness.
For the last hour though I’ve been aware of nothing but the guy lying next to me. I’m not aware of the three sets of eyes staring or the headlights from the passing cars washing over me, bleaching me white. His hands explore my breasts, thighs and stomach and I match him touch for touch.
I compare his rough, cracked skin to Matthews, even though it hurts to think about Matty while I’m in bed with someone else. It’s been two months since Matty left and I still wake up in the wee hours of the morning reaching out for him. When I don’t find him beside me the knot in my stomach tightens more and my heart aches so much that I cry out.
This barefoot traveling boy is nothing like Matty, and it makes me feel a little better. His legs and calves ripple with muscle from walking, while Matty was nothing but soft flesh. His skin is the color of black coffee, while Matty was pure cream, sprinkled with brown sugar.
I run my tongue across his thick lips and taste salt. His hands are cupping my ass now and I bite down on his tender bottom lip until I taste blood. Something I would not have dared to do to Matty.
Annie rolls over so she isn’t facing us any more, but the other people are still looking on, transfixed. They watch as my tongue flicks his nipples and makes them bloom like morning glories. I’m not put off by his offensive odor, which is so strong it coats the back of my throat like smoke. Instead I embrace it. It is yet another thing that is nothing like my Matty, who always smelled of freshly picked figs.
He kisses me all over but I’m no longer there to notice. My body responds while my mind wonders off, taking me back to Matty’s warm embrace.
I am no longer being rubbed by the rough, steel wool beard of a man who hasn’t bathed in months and am instead being cradled against Matty, my fingers are wrapped up in his auburn locks and he’s smiling. We’re lying in the field at Treaty Park again, it’s spring and the sun is cascading down through freshly opened leaves.
I’m telling him about how much I love the children I take care of at the daycare I’m volunteering at. “Every day I help make lunch and the kids call me Andy instead of Miranda,” I tell him with pride and warmth.
He snuggles the top of my head and whispers, “One day you’re going to have a whole house full of children, who are going to love you so much. Like I love you.”
I look up at him smiling, but his eyes are closed, envisioning our house full of children. Gently I uncurl his long hair from one of my hands and run the tip of my finger from his eyebrows, down his nose and across his lips. I pause for half a second and his lips part and kiss the supple pad of my index finger. I travel on, trailing his kisses down his chin and across his collarbones like a ribbon. I memorize the way his skin feels under my touch, and the way his bleach blonde eye lashes lay flush against his cheeks. I memorized it so well, it’s like it happened yesterday instead of more than a year ago.
It doesn’t feel like years or months ago though. I have grown so accustomed to being loved by him that the absence of it is unreal. Sometimes when I am laying in the unconscious state between being awake and asleep I can still feel his breath against my scalp, tickling my hair with kisses. I can feel his presence the same way amputees can still feel the tingling of their amputated limbs.
I’m brought back to the present moment by a sharp pain. The traveling boy is on top of me and has made his way inside. I cry out in shock, not realizing it had gone this far. He takes the sound as encouragement and thrusts faster. My right leg is slung over his shoulder and he plants warm, sloppy kisses all over it. Like a drunk driver his mouth swerves across my flesh. I look up at him with wide eyes, and then turn my head to see three sets of eyes looking at me, even Annie is watching again. The pipe glows red in her hand as she tokes on it and passes it to the next person. She coughs and pot smoke billows out of her small mouth and floats over to me. I can feel her glazed eyes judging me.
I turn my head away and stare at the tiny Buddha statue sitting in the corner of the room until the boy above me is through grunting. He rolls off of me and smacks a kiss on my dry lips.
I feel as if I’m about to vomit, but there is nothing in my stomach to come up so I just dry heave. I sit up and start hacking harder until my throat is raw. The traveling boy pats my back but I wave him away. I don’t want him touching me any more. Annie doesn’t move from her spot slumped against the wall to help me. She just sits and stares with bleary, red eyes. I don’t want her help anyway. I want Sarah.
I pull myself up from the muddle of bodies and sheets and make my way to the back of the house. Someone whistles at my bare ass but I ignore them. I can hear snickers behind me but I don’t bother to look and see who it is. My whole body is shaking; I can barely feel my legs and arms. I knock on Sarah’s bed room door loudly, “Sarah, it’s me, let me in.”
There is a rotting old couch in the kitchen instead of a table and someone is laying on it strumming a guitar. I don’t feel the need to cover my naked body; I just stand there rubbing my throbbing head. After a couple minutes I hear the chorus of locks being turned and the door creaks open. Sarah’s dread locked head peeks out and stares at me. “What’s up? I’m sleeping,” she croaks.
“Can I sleep with you?” I ask in a tiny voice.
She turns and disappears into the dark room that’s filled with her smell and Jimmie Hendrix’s voice. I follow and snap all the locks back into place. She flops down on her bare mattress and I curl up next to her. Our backs are pressed together and soon our breathing becomes synchronized. I can feel her heart beating fast in her birdcage like chest. We lay like that for a long time and I think she’s asleep until she asks, “What’s the matter?”
She knows how much I miss Matty, she knows how I dream of him so vividly that in the morning I cry when I find that it was all indeed a dream. She was there for the whole two and a half years we were together, and now she’s the only one left to pick up the pieces now that it is all over. She is also the only one who knows how much I miss my mother. I tell her, and her alone about how I can still smell her sometimes and how it makes me want to bring my knees up to my chest and sob forever. Sarah knows how much I hate my job at Wal mart and how much I long to work with children instead. And how I keep telling myself I can’t, because who is going to let trailer park trash take care of babies?
She knows it all, and when I talk to her it’s like applying a soothing balm to my wounds. “I had sex with him… It was the first time since Matty,” I whisper into the darkness in front of me.
I know if I look into her eyes right now they will be sober, and only unfocused from sleep. Her clear blue eyes never hold judgment either. We both know that drugs will never dull our pain, so there is no point in trying.
I gulp up a mouth full of air, trying to settle my stomach. The A/C unit in the window hums a rumbling lullaby, while gushing out ice-cold air over my naked body.
She doesn’t respond for a while and once again I assume she’s asleep. “I miss him so much Sarah.” I whimper.
She rolls over and faces me and I turn so we’re lying face-to-face and embracing. Her face is damp and I realize mine is as well, I’ve been crying the whole time. Her dread locks fall across my shoulders, and the feeling of her surrounding me makes me feel better. As if her ropes of hair alone can keep me safe from the poison that is eating me alive from the inside.
She pets my damp hair, pushing it back off of my face. Soon my face is slack and for once my mind isn’t racing. The knot in my stomach loosens a little, letting my heartbeat normally, with out aching. It begins to turn gray outside, and Sarah has finally fallen back to sleep. Slowly I rise and pick my way back into the front of the house. I leave Sarah curled up on the bare mattress to dream. The bottoms of her feet are black and her bare legs are covered in bug bites, much like my own.
We have not showered in I don’t know how long because the water in the house has been turned off. If I want to wash I’ll have to walk downtown later and lock myself in the handicap stall while I rinse off in the sink. Before I go do another 9-hour shift at Wal mart I’ll run across the lawn and wash my hair with the neighbors garden house and a bottle of dish soap. Wal mart is the last thing on my mind now though.
I step over puddles of dog piss, broken dishes and vomit until I find my traveling boy amongst the pile of other bodies. I stand in the doorway staring at him until his eyes open. He smiles and lifts the filthy sheet that is covering him, beckoning me to him. The palms of his hands are as white as clouds and they put me at ease, they are like white flags waving in a battlefield, telling me the battle is over for now. I’ve made it through another night.
I step over Annie’s slim body and slip into bed next to him, laying my head on his chest. “I missed you last night,” he whispers into my matted hair.
I don’t respond though, I’m already asleep.
I jerk my head up off of the bare mattress, a line of drool slipping down my chin. Next to me my phone is going off like a swarm of angry hornets. "BUZZ, Buzz, Buzz!!!"
I look around but no one is here, they must be out flying signs. Light filters in from the bare window and I guess it's any where from noon to 3 o'clock.
I snatch up the phone and stare at it for a second, letting my eyes focus on the small text before I answer it. Oh, it's James! I flip the phone open, "Hey, what's up?"
James has been gone lately, off doing some kind of personal growth crap. I personally think it's a waste of money, but at the same time I can see the change in him and that makes me happy. He's not nearly as angry any more. "Hey.. were you sleeping?" I can hear the disappointment in his voice.
"No," I lie, "just allergies."
I don't like telling lies to him, but I don't like him judging my lifestyle even more. Yeah, I party a lot and stay up late, but my bills are paid, aren't they?
"Well, I was wondering if I could talk to you for a little bit, if you aren't busy."
I sit up in bed and stretch my legs out in front of me, "Nah, I'm not busy. What's up?" I can feel Gratitude training coming.
He's gonna suggest I go, I know it. But I can't go, I have to work. Not to mention it's a 5 hour drive from here and I know nobody in West Palm Beach, where the center is located. I sigh to myself, I really don't want to talk about it at all, I'm just going to let him down.
"Well I was wondering if you'd tell me about what you want to do... I mean, I know you want to work with kids, but that's really all I know." he asks.
I'm kinda put off by this. Not by the question itself, but by James asking me something. Normally James does all the talking in conversations. Which really isn't so bad, I enjoy listening to him talk because he always has something interesting to say, and I really learn from him.
In the 3 years I've lived with my Sister Kerri, and her boyfriend James, I've learned a lot just from sitting and listening to James talk.
"Well.." I falter for a second, what do I want?
I know what I want, but it's so outlandish, so unobtainable, that I kinda feel silly even bringing it up. "One day I want to own my a daycare," I say in a small voice.
There, it's out. Now he's going to pick it apart and tell me all the reasons why I'm not on the right track to reach my goal. I close my eyes and wait.
"What does that look like?" he asks.
What the fuck? "I don't know..." What does he mean by that anyway?
"Close your eyes," he instructs, "and tell me what it looks like."
My eyes are already closed.. but I try to do as he says and imagine the day care. I see colorful walls, covered in butterflies that the kids cut out themselves and glued glitter on. I see origami birds we folded hanging from the ceiling and 5 little people sitting in a circle with me in the center, reading a book. I smell pine sol and their little bodies, powdered and innocent.
I smile at the scene, it's so vivid in front of me, but I can't bring myself to tell James. I can't ever have that, so there's no point in day dreaming about it. "I don't know.." I repeat.
He sighs on the other end, but remains patient with me. "Well I see building blocks, and lots of kids running around playing," he says, "It's your day care, what colors are the walls? How old are the kids?"
I close my eyes even tighter, "James, I don't know.." I say again, starting to get frustrated.
I don't want to do this! I don't want to talk about things I can't have, no bodies going to let me, trailer park trash, take care of kids. I'm getting my hopes up for nothing!
He senses me getting aggravated but keeps it up anyway, "There are no limitations Miranda, nothing to stop you, so just imagine it. What would it sound like? How would you set it up?"
Tears start spilling down my face as I try to hold back my sobs. No limitations? Ha! The picture in my head is bright and bubbly, with children playing duck, duck, goose and Mozart tinkling softly in the background. Life is filled with limitations! Me being fat is a limitation, and the most obvious one. Add on the fact I was raised in the projects, put in foster care and poor. James wasn't fooling anyone, I was limited from the start.
I collect myself long enough to reply, "James, I really don't know.." the tears make my voice come out thick.
"Miranda.. You do know."
I sob a little into the phone, why can't he just let it go? It's stupid anyway.
"I want you to do GT," he says after a second, "Just consider it, okay?"
I knew it! I knew he would bring it up! I wipe away my tears with an angry fist. "I don't know." I repeat my go to phrase when I'm upset.
"I have a scholar ship for the first part for you, you can go to part one for free, and Kerri is going with you. Will you at least consider it?" He isn't pleading with me,instead his voice sounds as if he's offering a gift. Something I should be honored to receive.
I'm quite for a second, not really thinking, just trying to collect myself. "Okay," I whisper, "Let me see if I can get the days off for it first."
I jot down the dates he gives me and hang up the phone. Sarah walks in just as I flop back on the bed, I can tell by the look on her face she's been listening for a while.
"Is he trying to make you go to that cult again?" She asks, only half sarcastic.
I shrug my shoulders and stare up at the ceiling. The bed sighs and slumps a little as she sits down next to me. She picks up the lists of dates and scans them."This is about the time we'll be leaving," she reminds me, as if I don't know.
"Yeah," I say softly to the brown spot crawling across the ceiling.
"Are you going to do this instead of going with us?" she demands.
For the last few weeks Sarah, Annie and I have been talking about leaving St.Aug and hitch hiking. We were thinking North Carolina, or maybe just joining up with the rainbow, a group of traveling hippies that bartered and traded for everything. Really any where would do. We just needed to go. I felt trapped by my job, by my obligations, my responsibilities. Why bother with it, when I can just stick out my thumb and be gone?
I roll my head to the side and stare at her. She isn't looking at me, but at the slip of paper in her hands. Her dreads have fallen around her face, so I can't make out her profile. "I don't know" I groan.
That phrase, I say it so much it's like a chant. "I don't know!" I repeat, more to myself this time.
"Well if you ditch me, that would be lame." she snaps, as she pulls herself off of the bed and makes her way to the bathroom. The water has been off for a while, but some dumb ass took a shit in the toilet anyway. She slams the door shut, trying to block out the smell from her room. It's pretty pointless, since right next to the bed a giant pile of dog shit sits, sneering at me. I don't bother to clean it up though, another pile will just replace it later. "It's free, the first part. so maybe I can just do it for James and Kerri and then leave with you," I try to reason.
I want to make everyone happy, it's like it doesn't even matter what I want. The picture of the daycare swirls in my mind again. What do I want?
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