She - Part Three
Michael and I got out of
the car in the Walmart parking lot. I closed the door to my silver Mitsubishi
Galant and beeped the alarm twice. Once to lock the doors and again to set the
alarm. Michael is seven years old and is so independent I let him roll his eyes
at me when I ask him to hold my hand in the parking lot.
“Come on Michael, you
know the drill, not every vehicle is paying attention baby. I need to keep you
safe” I tell him.
“Ya, I know, I know” he said
as he walked around the car to grab my hand.
Michael wants to be as
tall as his older brother so badly, he even walks slightly on his tip toes in
order to seem taller. He has a long way to go, his older brother Christopher is
sixteen years old and already 6’. Michael is 4’ exactly and has always taken more
after my side of the family. Michael has shaggy dark brown hair that just
barely goes past his ears, violating his school dress code; he has my dark
brown eyes and olive complected skin. Michael has such an angel face and soft
features that there have been many times when he and I are out shopping and strangers
stop us to tell me how beautiful he is. Michael is aware of his pretty face and
always manages to distort his features into a silly smile or what seemed to be
a variety of rabid squirrel expressions when he finds me looking at him.
Michael tip toes over to
me and takes my hand and we begin to make our way through the busy parking lot.
She decided to pick me up from elementary
school early saying I had a doctor’s appointment. When I got to the office and came
through the door She stood from her chair smiling at me and said “Did you forget
your appointment?”
I argued that there was no appointment and
that I usually stay home from school when I have a doctor’s appointment. She
frowned at me as the school office secretary awaited her response as to why I
was really being taken out of class. My second-grade teacher Mrs. Blankenship assured me that honesty was the best policy and that my parents would never be
upset if I told the truth.
“I forgot about it, ok, that’s why
I’m here now to pick you up” She said firmly.
I knew that look meant to shut up
now. I looked down and gripped the straps to the backpack in my hands and
started to walk toward her slowly. She signed me out of school and walked out
the door to the parking lot. I was left in the office looking after her. She
turned around and glared at me as the office door closed. I broke out into a
run pushing the office door roughly and leaving it flung open. I jumped down
three steps and was at the car just in time for her to open the back door on
the passenger side for me. I stood at the open door and looked up at her. She
was looking at the office windows that were dark from the outside and pushed me
by my head into the car. I barely missed hitting my head on the roof of the car
and could feel the friction my hair made on the gold upholstery. I flew in and
slightly bounced on the back seats. I tried to pull my legs in quickly and as I
did I rubbed my shin on the frame of the car. I was laying awkwardly but
managed to pull both legs in the car before She shut the door on them. As She
walked around to the driver’s side of the vehicle I sat up and scooted to the
right side of the car farthest from the driver seat. I squished myself to the
door. She was notorious for trying to hit me as soon as She got in the car. She
would reach over the seat and start swinging, it didn’t matter if the car was
in motion or not.
She got herself settled into the
seat, started the car and began to back out of the parking spot. I watched her
in the rearview mirror, waiting to see what She was going to do. She pulled the
car out of the school parking lot and drove on. It didn’t seem like She was
going to do anything in that moment, so I looked at my scraped leg. Just broken
skin and no blood. I began to peel off the white dead skin. I got so mad at her
suddenly. How was I supposed to know that there was a doctor’s appointment or
whatever She wanted me to lie for?
She drove the car so smoothly I
didn’t realize She had pulled over to the side of the road until I heard her
put the car in park. I looked up from my leg to see her turn and reach for my
hair. She pulled my ponytail with her left hand and started to slap my face
with her right. She hit the side of my face, ear, and shoulder whatever She
could reach. I covered my head with my arms to block as much as I could.
“No one fucking asked you to start talking,
did they?!” She yelled, “Who the fuck do you think you are making me look
stupid in front of those fat ass women?!”
I covered my head with my hands to
block, but my left ear started ringing. She yanked my ponytail back and forth
then down as far as She could and threw my head the opposite direction, hitting
my head on the car window. She turned around in the seat and started the car. I
sat up and scooted as close to the car door as I could. The tears were already
streaming down my face. My head hurt, my ponytail was a tangled mess of hair on
the side of my head and my ear was ringing.
I
looked at her from the back seat of her gold 1969 Chrysler New Yorker. Her
father purchased the vehicle for her when my dad finally got tired of her sneaking
out to party each night. We only had one car before, and when he would get home,
he would take the spark plugs out of it and hide them. It never stopped her
though. They would just fight first, and She would leave anyway.
“I
am so sick to death of you and your crying”, She said, “All you do is bitch and
cry all the time. It’s disgusting, you’re disgusting, don’t fucking look at me”.
I
looked away from her and out the window. ‘I hate you’, I thought, ‘I hate you;
I hate you’.
I
watched the houses become fewer and fewer as they were replaced by businesses
and fast-food chains. We reached the parking lot of a bookstore. She maneuvered
the massive vehicle into a parking spot. We both exited the car, slamming the immense
metal doors behind us. I waited for her at the rear of the car to walk around
it and come get me. She kept walking and passed me by.
I
did a quick skip to catch up to her and She grabbed my hand. I didn’t want her
to touch me but couldn’t push her away; that would have made her angrier. So, I
didn’t close my fingers around her hand. I kept my hand straight and inflexible
like a piece of wood.
She
looked down at our hands and then at me without slowing her pace, lifted my
hand and threw it at me, hitting my chest.
“You
fucking little bitch”, She whispered as we crossed the parking lot, “You think
you are so much better than me don’t you. You think you could do better is that
it, a fucking princess, right?”
‘I
am better than you’ I thought to myself.
“Just
wait until you get home. You will wish I aborted your ass like your father
wanted me to do.”
“Mom, watch out!” Michael
shouted.
Michael stopped in his
tracks and pulled hard on my hand to stop me. I stumbled backwards a step and a
swoosh of black truck flew past me, nearly a foot away. Had I kept walking I
would have stepped too close and may have gotten knocked down or hit by the
passing truck.
“I’m so sorry babe, I was lost in thought” I
said “I guess I went into auto pilot again and wasn’t paying attention. I’m ok
now though. I am so sorry”.
I shook my head from side
to side trying to shake the thoughts from my mind and we looked both ways and
when traffic was clear we began to walk across the black top to the entrance. I
held Michaels hand and brought it to my lips and gave it a little kiss. Michael
smiled at me and pulled my hand closer to him so he could kiss my hand too.
“I love you mom” Michael
said.
“I love you too babe” I
replied.
I thought about when I
was holding her hand…would I have helped her and pulled her back like Michael
did for me? Or would I have just stood over her as She fell backwards after
getting hit by the car. My chest began to ache with that sharp familiar
sadness.
‘I know I am better than She was’, I thought to myself, I glanced
quickly at Michael and then away again. ‘Michael
would never let anything happen to me, he loves me, he’s not afraid of me. That’s
what’s important. That’s what makes me better’.
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