New Orleans (Dreaming Part One) Ch. 6 - 10

Chapter 6
New Orleans, LA, 1988

Buckled

Mom left me buckled into the front seat while she went back to the house to get something.  I don’t have to go to school today because we are going to the dentist and I am mournful about it.

Kicking my feet against the dash, I sigh heavily.  Maybe I won’t have a cavity again but maybe I will and they will be sorry when I die of infection and they have to-

“OH!”  I gasp. 

A man is next to my open door and his eyes are wild.  He has my arm gripped in his colossal hand as he leans in on the car’s side.  I cover my seat buckle with my other hand to stop him from undoing it.  We stare at each other.  The world is frozen except for my heart. 

‘Don’t speak’, the Wind Woman sighs in my ear, stirring the muggy air and cooling my hot face.  

He doesn’t see me; his eyes are feral and clouded.  I stare in his eyes, as hard as I can.  See me!   See me!   I think the words hard, throwing them to him: See Me!

Suddenly his eyes clear and he does see me.  ‘Just a kid’, the words are in his eyes.  He lets go and blood rushes back into my arm.  He snatches up my Mom’s purse, it was on the floor between the seats, next to me and he takes off down the street.

I have the hiccups. I take deep breaths and try to hold them in as I watch closely until he is far away. Only when he turns the corner do I release my belt and bolt into the house.

Chapter 7
New Orleans, LA, July 1988

Turning Eight

Today was my baptism day. Apparently I must be baptized to be clean (although I just took a bath last night so I am clean enough already). I think it is odd a God has time to be angry or sad about scriptures unsaid, prayers not thought through and as such, to please this God, I have to take a fully clothed soak in front of everyone.  If I were a God I would hope things I create just go about doing whatever they were created to do. 

Trouble is I will hurt Mom’s feelings if I do anything else besides smile and nod so while I thought it all very annoying, the required frilly dress, and my styled hair; ugh; I kept on smiling and nodding. 

The, right before I was to be marched out in an ugly white outfit, Mom gave me a necklace, a pendant the head of a unicorn.  All at once, I remembered the day in the park; I remembered the eyes in the trees and the mane the color of the moss; the Unicorn meant something, something that will be lost but she must not ever be forgotten.  So I smiled at my Mom with a real smile and I smiled politely for everyone else too.   

Chapter 8
New Orleans, LA, 1989

Peanut Butter

We were late for school this morning.  As punishment the principle had each tardy student stand in front of two giant fans in the cafeteria.  There are three of us.  The fans are taller than the adults and three times as wide. We have to stand facing the fans until all the other students at our lunch time have fed themselves through the line and are outside for recess.

I am hungry, angry and light headed by the time they let us sit down.  My legs are shaky, my eyes hot and dry. My ears are ringing after facing the loud roar of the fans. I am outraged. 

The regular food for lunch is gone and the lunch lady makes and gives us peanut butter sandwiches.  The bread is dry.  There is no jelly.  The peanut butter is a thick nutty paste; nasty and choking.  The cafeteria is empty except for us, the lunch lady and the tall principle in a suit.  Sweat darkens her armpits and ruins her attempt at a cold look. 

All the while the principle talks about the importance of being prompt.  I can’t finish the sandwich and she screeches “Wasteful, a pig headed child!”

I do not have a pig’s head! I glare at her and imagine her melting into the floor where I threw the sandwich.

After recess is reading where the humiliation will start all over again.  At home I know the anger and frustration I will find.  I know it will spill over on me again and prayers, church, early bedtimes and scriptures, scriptures –always about the doom of the world, the sins of people and lost civilizations.  What is with this God? 

Sometimes I am so angry the feeling radiates hotly from my chest and it hurts to breath.  Nothing makes sense, not the prayers, not the people, not school, not feelings, not choices.  Everyone around me acts out their part with sad eyes and tragically bad lines.

Chapter 9
New Orleans, LA, 1988

Friends

Mr. Pete was Dad’s friend.  He came over for dinner a lot and was mostly interested in talking to my big brother about art.  My older brother and I often have drawing contests.  Our subjects are squirrels, chairs and lizards.  Although I am sad to admit it, my big brother is the better artist. 

I am jealous of the attention from Mr. Pete and I had been carefully drawing a wolf, a howling wolf; its muzzle centered in the moon behind it in preparation for Mr. Pete’s next visit.  I showed it to Mr. Pete as soon as he sat down with Dad on his next visit.  This time, Mr. Pete paused and then, to my delight, he asked if he could keep it. 

Dad chuckled, apologizing for my disruption and then commenting on the amount of mud on my pants and shoes; on the general disarray of my hair, asking, “How can one person be such a mess for a visitor?” Embarrassed, I fled and hid in my room. 

Chapter 10
New Orleans, LA, 1988

Jane

Jane lives with her Mom, Ms. Eleanor, in a little house and her real name is Janet but I call her Jane.  Her room and closet are full of princess dresses.  When I call them that she corrects me and reminds me that they are a ‘Southern Belle’ dresses.  Their tiny house has necklaces and earrings and old pictures hung on every wall.  There are Mardi Gras beads on door knobs and masks stacked in corners.  A giant Magnolia tree sits outside the front window and vines grow up the walls outside.  Massive sunflowers line the back yard fence. Their heavy heads bob hello when the wind blows.

Her father lives in a castle with the woman he left her Mom for and Jane refuses to talk to her.  His lawn is a perfect green and massive oak trees line the streets.  He has a swimming pool with two slides and he can make phone calls from the big black car he drives.  Once, after he took us to a movie, he called my parents from the car.  Their voices came out of the speakers. 

Mostly we see each other at her Mom’s but sometimes we sleep over at her Dad’s. When we do she comes to my bed and using flashlights, we make up terrible stories of ghosts, ghouls and voodoo.   She always locks her door when we are in her room and she asks that I wait until she is asleep before I go to sleep.  Jane is sad a lot, sometimes she cries for no reason at all.  Jane makes fun of my dirty shoes and clothes but I ignore her and drag her down to investigate the river banks and bridges with me.  She has dirty shoes and clothes when we get back to her house too.

The compromise for her co-operation is that later we will try on dresses with hoop skirts and wear lots of necklaces.  Her Mom lets us wobble around in her few high heeled shoes.  She pins Jane’s heavy jet black hair up.  She also tries to get a hold my blond thin hair with a clip. It never stays.  Last time I was over she lets us try on makeup. I drew dragonflies all over Jane’s face with purple and brown pencils.  My sister loves to wear the floppy hats on her curly hair. 

When we moved away, Ms. Eleanor us ‘memory books’.  They are about the length of a postcard but thick with lots of pages.  She says to have everyone we love sign their name in it and then their love for us will be bound in their writing and stay with us always.