Week 2 Redone

The personalities between the two are apparent immediately. Both women are small in stature, but the way they hold the bodies speaks volumes. The smaller of the two stands with her head tilted down and I can see her eyes darting back and forth, as if she expects someone to jump at her. Her hands are in her pocket as she shuffles her feet.

“Jesus Sandy! Put your fucking shoes where they belong! Out of all the pairs of shoes yours are the only ones not facing the right way! It’s not like it’s that fucking hard.” Katherine, the other woman, stands glaring across the room, waiting for her words to be followed.

They are, without hesitation. Sandy scurries to the door, turns her shoes the right way and stands back up, returning to her previous stance of nervousness. She reminds me of a dog I met once. A beautiful Akita, black lab mix that had been through hell. That poor dog, beaten and abandoned, neglected, abused and abandoned again, before she finally got life by the ass and found the perfect home. Unfortunately she was scarred. Her head would sink low and her eyes would dart around at the slightest sign of tension, like Sandy’s are now.

“Did you drop the tires of at the garage yet?” Katherine asks as she puffs her chest out a little. Her back is stick straight with her hands on her hips. Sandy says something, so muffled and slurred together that Katherine jumps on her again

“What? What the fuck is wrong with you? Open your mouth and talk. Christ! Did you take the tires to the garage?” This last sentence was said in a slow drawn out manner, like they do in the movies when they are implying someone is… slow.

“Not yet… I didn’t have time.” Sandy turns and starts down the hall to her room.

“You didn’t have time?” Katherine’s hands go up in the air as she speaks. “What the fuck did you do all day? What? You sat at Dunkin Donuts for a couple hours, then what? You’re telling me you couldn’t take twenty minutes and drop off the god damned tires so he can get it done? You know this whole world doesn’t revolve around you. He should fucking charge you for storage time cuz your damn truck is just sitting there. You wanna get that taken care of, sooner rather than later.”

Sandy says nothing, and goes down the hall to her room. Katherine turns around and walks to the sink as she continues to bitch. “Jesus, I’m so sick of spoon feeding her. I don’t know what the fuck she is thinking but she must have dementia kicking in or something. She just keeps getting worse and worse. Can’t ever understand a fucking word she says. She can move the fuck out for all I care. I’m done. I’m just all done.”

Week 9: fiction and fact: speculative piece

After hours of battling with my two year old, who has now mastered climbing out of his crib, I finally get him to sleep. I stand for a moment looking at my boys. God they can be so difficult! Hunters’ mouth is beyond crazy and Nick is learning everything he knows from his big brother and then some.  I wonder what my life would have been like if I had never met their father.

I was doing so well for myself in so many ways. Not so good in others. After the loss of my daughter I worked all the time. When I wasn’t working I was drinking. Between the three jobs I hardly ever slept, but sleep has never been a big issue for me. Somehow my body has grown accustomed to two to four hours of sleep a night.  Before I met Eric, my kids’ father, I was getting caught up on everything that had been dragging me down financially. I worked hard and liked it. It kept me busy, kept me from thinking.  Such a simple process, to think… and at times a devastating one.

If I had been a smart girl I would have seen all the signs. How he had a drink every time he came to Judy’s, which was where I worked at the time. I could have saved myself so much, the screaming, the threats… the violence, the ever increasing mental anguish that became my life for three years.  I found myself so full of hate all the time that I was unbearable to even myself. What if I hadn’t met him? Could I have been any happier? I think not.

As horrible as it was with him, I believe I would have ended up a lot more like my mother. I like to drink, and I did… a lot. Without the responsibilities of my family would I have taken that path? Yes… I would have needed the distraction. Distractions are necessary when the mind whirls around at hundreds of miles per hour. 

I would have continued to work as much as I could because, let’s face it; we all like to have spending money.  I partied with Jill from time to time. We always got in trouble… I would like to think I’m smart enough not to fall into the drugs like she did, but would I have? Would the never ending want for some kind of human interaction outside of work lead me to it? Too many what ifs!

Undoubtedly, if I had not had my children, I would not have made it back to school. I would be stuck in some dead end, unsatisfying job. That in its self could lead to more drinking. I could think of a million good things that could have happened, lucky breaks and such, but in reality, I think if I had not met the asshole and gotten “tied down”, so to speak, things would be worse in too many ways. I was disappearing into my own black hole; the hell of Eric brought me out of it.

Week 7: Structure; Profile; Lecture

Deceitfully Charming

It’s getting harder and harder to see anything but anger in him. His mental illness is taking more control of him by the day. His outbursts are fast, furious, and frequent. His new girlfriend, Melissa, keeps her eyes to the floor. The stony look to his face, the fast yet, almost lurching, steps. The cold, dead eyes. Those eyes…

About a month ago Melissa's aunt was in Wal-mart. She saw them, tried to talk to them, but he rushed Melissa off before she could get close. Before he did, Aunty saw the black eye.

 He storms into the house, pissed off that the cops had been called again. As he enters the room the dog, a Sheppard mix, cowers and urinates on the floor in fear. 

"What the Fuck!" He screams at the dog as he punches him in the head over and over. When he is done the dog is on the floor with blood coming out of his mouth.

“There! You fucking mutt! Piss on the floor again.” Melissa’s six year old

daughter covers her ears and closes her eyes.

Three years earlier… He strolls into the restaurant, head held high.  His posture is perfect. His smile is dazzling.  He takes a seat at the bar and smiles at the cook. She blushes, he is cute. He comes back every day to see her. He is always complimenting her, never anything but perfectly sweet.  People look at him and many immediately find there is something wrong. Something is off a little bit there. The cook doesn’t see it; all she sees is a handsome man who is genuinely interested in her for her. 

She places the back of the rocking chair under the door handle so when he tries to get in the door is jammed. He bangs on the door.
 "I'm going to blow your fucking head off! You fucking cunt! Open the fucking door! I’ll come through this fucking door! Open the door!" She cradles her infant son, singing the Itsy Bitsy Spider, never taking her eyes off the door, praying he won't get in.

He dislikes being alone, he needs someone with him. It’s not hard for him to find a girl. His looks do a lot. Easy on the eyes, hard on the heart and sanity. When he spots someone that interests him  he turns on the charm. Sweetness pours out of him like a fountain. But it’s not real. What he really is doesn’t show right away. He has the ability to maintain a certain level of decency while in public, but that ability is fading more and more and he is becoming desperate. Desperate to gain control of anyone he can. He uses the same skill with them all. The stories are the same, the abuse is the same, his hatred is the same. In the beginning he is always Deceitfully Charming. Then he cuts you off from everyone you love and slowly tears you apart.

week 5 Week 5. Adult memoir.

 I stopped and stared at my son in shock. Did that really just happen? Really?! "Oh my god."

 As soon as he got up that morning I knew it was going to be a bad day... again. You’d think me asking him to go pee was the end of the world! Oh and wow, he actually has to flush the toilet? What kind of mother am I?

"We need to go soon. It’s time to get dressed so we can go to school." As soon as the words were out of my mouth his face changed. By now, I know what that look means.

"Oh don't even start! I told you it was almost time to go and you said ok! Let's go! It's time to get ready!" Too late, the wail had already started and gigantic tears had already welled up in his eyes. How the hell do they cry on command like that? He likes school! How can he possibly be that upset over going? I wish we could just have one morning where everything just… goes right!

"But I don't want to go to school! I want to watch a mooovie!" Already he is crying so hard that his voice has turned into an almost unintelligible whine. There is nothing more annoying than the whine of a child who is doing it only to piss you off because they “don’t wanna”. The worst part is it’s only my own kid that does it to me. Never have I ever met a kid as difficult for me to handle as him. Nearly impossible at times, and I’m not proud of it. It downright sucks!

"It's time to go to school. We have to get ready. Johnny we do this every day!" His face, screwed up into a leaking little ball now, lets out an ear piercing screech that makes me cringe.

"Nooo!" Running over to the television he puts his finger on the power button. I just look at him and shake my head. He knows he is getting me mad! Why does he do that? Stomping his feet he presses the button. Oh buddy, you just pressed more than one button! Why can’t he just be good? Why do we always have to fight!

"Johnny, let’s go. It’s time to go to school!" Don't get mad, don't get mad... Every day! Every friggin day! I close my eyes and take a couple of breaths. I love him I do, but that sound. Oh I hate that sound. If he were crying because he was hurt or scared, that would be one thing… but this? I’m just so tired of this. All we ever do is fight! About everything! Fight! Fight! Fight! Whine! Whine! Whine! 

"Johnny stop crying, come here, and I’ll help you get dressed." Letting out another ear piercing screech, he throws himself on the floor. Gritting my teeth, I try to keep from grabbing him and making him get dressed. I wouldn’t have been given that luxury when I was little! My rotten little butt would have promptly met the business end of a hand, belt… whatever was handy. Is it right? No. Did it work? Most of the time it did.  

"If you don't get over here right now, stop crying, and get dressed," I take a step closer, "I'm going to give you something to cry about. Instantly I Stopped and stared at my son in shock. Did that really just happen? Really?!

"Oh my God." I couldn't help but drop my eyes to the floor and turn away. I had done the unthinkable. I know he is being nothing but a rotten little brat right now, but holy shit. Holy fucking shit. I just reminded myself of my mother… God help me.

week 4 voice; childhood memoir

I am nine years old. My father and I are hunting for deer. We've been out here all day and now it’s starting to get dark, so we are going back to the pickup.
"Daddy my legs hurt." I whine, feeling very sick of walking and ready to go home and play Mario.
"We're almost there. See?" He says as we come out into the big field. I can see the pickup now and grin.
“Finally!” We walk to the truck and get in. Dad says we have a few more minutes until we can’t hunt no more. We sit in the truck looking out the window, he hoping a deer comes out, me hoping one doesn’t. I don’t want them to get hurt, but I like going with Dad.
“Hey TJ” dad says, and then stops for a minute. “I want to talk to you about something.”
“Ok” I look at him waiting. He runs his hand through his hair then starts to talk.
“I have something to tell you that I think you should know TJ. It’s not easy and I wish it wasn’t true.” I look at him, not having a clue what in the world he is talking about.
“What dad?”
“I just… I just think you should know. I wanted to adopt you, but it just never happened.”
“What?” What is he trying to tell me?
“Before I met your mom she was with a different guy.”
“Oh! Tony’s dad?”
“No this was a different guy. When she was with him she got pregnant. They didn’t get along and she left him. Then I met your mom. When I met her she was pregnant with you and I have been your dad ever since. But, TJ, I’m not your real dad.” I just look at him. What is he talking about? Not my dad?
“But why? How come you can’t be my real dad? I don’t want a different dad.” He looks at me and I am surprised to see his eyes are wet, like he is going to cry.
“You are not going to get a different dad. He is not a nice man. I will always be your dad. Always. I just think you should know about it.” I look at him then get worried.
“Does mom know? Is she gonna be mad?” He laughs.
“Yes she knows” he laughs some more. “When you get home ask your mom who John is and she will tell you all about it. Are you ready to go home?” I look at him for a minute then just nod my head. We drive home and when we go in my mom is setting the table for us.
“Mom… who is John?” her head snaps up and she looks from me to my dad.
“What are you talking about?” Now I’m confused. Dad said she would know.
“My real dad? Dad said I have a different dad.” Her head turns toward my father.
“You ignorant mother fucker. Tara go to your room.” I look at my dad who just shakes his head and then head  towards my room. I don’t even get all the way down the hall before I hear my mom.
“Who the fuck do you think you are? You have no right! You have no fucking right! She doesn’t need to fucking know about it!” I shut my door, sit on my bed and wish I had only one dad... and supper.

week 3 travel

"Which way do we go?"  I ask as we come to yet another intersection. Stephanie looks in every direction.
"I don't know... let’s just go... this way?" I continue to go straight, trying to ignore the fact that my teeth are chattering so hard it feels like they are going to shatter. I have no idea how long we have been riding, but it’s dark now. Its dark and it freezing!
"Oh man, I wonder if they are looking for us." Stephanie said as I stop because our path turns into a y.
"Geez, now which way do we go? I have no friggin idea where we are. Do you think we are still in Oakfield?" She laughs at that.
"I don't have a clue! I know my fucking hands are cold though." I only nod; my hands are pretty cold too. Wish I had that other pair of gloves right now! We decide to go right and continue on our way. The snow glistens in our dim headlight. If I weren’t so scared of running out of being lost I might actually enjoy it.
“Go faster, it’s a straight away.” I go faster. The trails just keep going and going. We have taken so many turns, who knows we probably have gone on the same trail a million times. Could be going in circles for all we know. All of the sudden it’s like the trail disappears from under us. As I fly through the air I see Stephanie land on her head, and the snow sled spins into the ground, landing right on its nose. I get up, a little shaky.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god! Are you OK? Stephanie! Stephanie are you ok?”  She looks at me with a blank expression for a second.
“OH SHIT! Sterling’s sled!” I help her up and we go to the sled. I actually wish I had a camera right now, because the sled is literally sticking straight up out of the snow. We grab onto the sled with our freezing hands and pull with what little energy we have. Finally it comes free. Stephanie tries to get it started, but it just sputters.
“Let’s wait a minute and try again. I sit on the sled and light up a smoke.” Stephanie looks at me for a minute then sits next to me.
“Can I have one?”
“No.” She looks at me in disbelief. I laugh and hand her one. After we finish our cigarettes I try to get the sled started. After a couple tries it starts. Thank God! Stephanie decides since I wrecked us that she would drive. In my defense, it really was quite a little drop off from what appeared to be only a little hill.
We get back on the sled and start on the trail again. After what seemed like hours we came to a sign that had been spray painted red and black. Stephanie practically screams in excitement.
“AHH! I know where we are! It should only take about forty five minutes to home from here!”
I’m so happy I could cry. But, of course our luck can’t be that good can it. Not long after we pass the sign, the sled starts to sputter. Then it dies.
“What the fuck!”  Stephanie says as she looks down at it. “Oh no! We are out of gas, and we still have a long fucking way to go!” I have no idea what time it is, but it has to be late.
“They must be looking for us by now, right?” I looked at for a minute before she answered.
“Dad will be looking for us. But, they only have one sled because we have Sterling’s. They won’t have any idea which way we went.” To add insult to injury it starts to snow.
“Oh great!” I said as the snow lands on us. “Should we walk?” She just nods and we start walking down the trail.
We must have walked for a good hour before we heard the sled. We both freeze where we are and listen. About a minute later we see the headlight. It was Stephanie’s dad.
“Jesus! We have been looking for you two for hours! Let me guess you ran out of gas?”
“Yes, the sled is back there, a ways.” Stephanie points back the way we had come.
“Get on, I have gas, I figured you would need it. Let’s go get the sled and get you girls home.” We climb on the sled and go to retrieve Sterling’s sled. We follow her dad home.
We pull into her driveway and her mother, sister and brother come outside. I tell Sterling that I crashed his sled. He goes and inspects it to find that it is cracked from the top of the windshield all the way to the bottom, on the front.
“I am so sorry!” He laughs.
“It’s ok, really. I’m just glad you guys are ok.”
We go inside and sit down at the table. Stephanie’s mother starts to laugh.
“What?”  Stephanie asks. Her mother grins.
“You guys must be pretty cold. You have icicles hanging from your eyelashes!”

week 1 Nature

 Standing on my porch I watch the clouds float through the brilliant sea of reds from the sunset. Looking along the tree tops I see the huge plume of smoke billowing up from the power plant. Disgusting, it makes me think of that cartoon that’s on late at night, The Oblongs. It’s about a family that is deformed and disabled due to pollution and radiation exposure.
I think of the power plant when it rains. I used to love to go in the rain. Now I just wonder what’s in it. Another thing I have noticed here is how different it smells after it rains. When you are right in Bangor, for example, it smells horrible after it rains. No one ever understands what I mean, but it does. Speaking of rain! When we got hit with what was left of hurricane Irene, I was outside watching the trees in the wind. A group of twenty or so birds were soaring in the air over me. They were flying against the wind so they really weren't going anywhere. It was the coolest thing! I was watching them wondering why in the world they weren't snuggled up to a tree, when all of the sudden they turned and flew in the other direction. Right behind them was the rain. A wall of rain chasing the birds!
Would it be horrible to say I was disappointed by Irene? I love storms, and was kind of hoping to get more. Not sure my neighbor would agree. A tree was blown over onto her car. I told my aunt about it and she simply said, "Yeah and hundreds of other people, so what." She has no sympathy. She had a totally different attitude when the tree came down in her yard and nearly took out her truck.
I have been riding in her truck since I was six years old. We used to go to her camp all the time when we were little. One time, my mother was driving and my aunt, my brothers and I were on back. All of the sudden we heard this really weird sound. The only way I could describe it would be to say it sounded like a thousand cricket all at once. Keep in mind I was a little kid. My aunt looks down over the side of the truck and hollers “GO Tracy GO! We’re losing air!”  
My aunt has a sandy beach at her camp. One day my brothers and I were digging and found turtle eggs! Unfortunately one of them was cut in half. My aunt came over and buried the eggs again and told us to leave them alone. I sat there holding the egg we destroyed, not quite understanding what we had done. In my hand was a tiny turtle and blood. My aunt took the egg and turtle away and told me to go wash my hands in the lake. As I did I noticed something in the water. It was black and looked like a snake almost. I asked my aunt what it was and she said “It’s a leach. Pick it up and throw it in the fire.” So I picked it up, looked at it for a minute and went to the fire. When I tried to throw it in it was stuck to me! I couldn’t get it to come off! My aunt laughed and pulled it off. “You have to be quick.” She said as she threw it in the fire. “Now listen.” A few seconds later I heard a pop! So then my new game was to make the leaches go pop in the fire.