THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT MARY
PART I
Let's get caught up with America's favorite family, the Camdens. Rated PG-13 for abject misery, drug references, and other dark things that 12-year-olds just wouldn't understand.
Plot based on a true story
Things had changed.
Yes, changed, for the Camdens.
Old was out, new was in, and each of the seven Camchildren's respective lives had begun to take shape.
Matt Camden had a wife and a career in nursing.
Lucy Camden-Kinkirk had a husband, a son, and a quaint little house in the hills.
Simon Camden was in his Senior Year at college.
Ruthie Camden had a learner's permit, a boyfriend, and several telephone books she could sit on to help her see the road when she drove.
Sam Camden was in the second grade.
David Camden was in the fourth grade (he was... well, to put it Annie's way: "Just a little bit more special than [Sam was].")
Mary Camden? We'll get to her later.
Meanwhile, Eric and Annie Camden moved into a new, larger house. They' had come into money (we won't go into how—that would be another, albeit disturbing story). With the money, they were not only able to move into a new home, but they also were able to buy their old, church-paid home.
They hoped to rent it out and make some extra money.
With all of their children but Ruthie and the twins gone, Eric and Annie also decided to move onto a new part of their lives.
Eric hired a maid (which benefited both the matriarch and patriarch of the family... in different was, of course). Annie began salsa-dancing lessons with a former Spanish soap opera star, known only as El Diablo. Eric also thrust himself back into the church, and realized that if he were to be a legitimate man of the cloth, he would need to pray more.
All of this, of course, pales in comparison to the story of...
Mary Camden-Rivera.
She, Carlos, and their baby boy, Charles, had fallen into... well, let's say, poverty.
They were poor.
Not painfully poor. They just couldn't manage paying rent, utilities—and buying food as well—in their little place in the city.
Carlos made money, but just enough to keep a roof over his head and one or two things in the fridge to eat.
Electricity? Out of the question.
Water? Barely.
Phone? Luckily!
Conveniences? No way.
Mary was terribly depressed about the whole situation. Her life was a mess—and not just because of poverty.
Carlos wasn't the best husband in the world. Mary was sure he was cheating on her. Not only that, but he had an interesting penchant for a little drug known as marijuana.
Mary didn't like this. But there was nothing she could do. Deep down, she loved Carlos. The idea of leaving him was frightening to her. Not to mention the fact that he was the only one in the family making any money at all.
Without him, Mary and Charles would be homeless.
Leaving Carlos was out of the question.
Yet, as Mary lay on the bed, next to her sleeping child, she couldn't help but think: "I have to do something."
It was raining as she wept, silently, hoping Charles wouldn't wake up and be concerned. Her life was a complete disaster, and she had nobody to turn to. She rarely left her house—she lived in a very bad neighborhood—and she knew nobody, except for the schizophrenic neighbor next door. (And she only knew him through of a series of circumstances that are, at the very least, cringe-worthy).
Mary thought about calling Lucy, but the idea made her nauseous.
Lucy was the only one in the Camden family Mary had a remote contact with. They talked once in a while. Mary would usually be the one to call. Mary felt even more like a failure whenever she called Lucy, knowing that her sister was so well off, successful and happy.
Mary had to talk to someone, however. She needed someone to tell about her various problems. Not necessarily about Carlos' problems. More like the problems concerning bills, money, and abject poverty.
So Mary picked up the phone, dialed up Lucy Kinkirk's number, and waited for her sister to answer.
When Mary heard the familiar voice of her sister, she aired all her problems out in rapid fashion. It wasn't until after she finished going through all her trials and tribulations that she realized that Lucy would probably relay all of this information to Eric and Annie.
Lucy, in her sympathetic tone, told Mary all the familiars:
"I'm sure things will work out for the best."
"Is there anything I can do?"
"Nothing stays bad forever."
Lucy, of course, had problems of her own. Like the fact that she had a broken arm from a... boating accident...
She cared, certainly, but she didn't really have any time for Mary's constant and continuous sob story.
Granted, she cared enough to tell Eric and Annie, but she didn't really care enough to help. Mary was an adult, after all. Older than she was, actually. Lucy had a child to take care of. A husband to feed. A life of her own to live.
Of course, none of this was relayed to Mary. Lucy read from the familiar script, said all of her lines, and delivered a fantastic performance as the caring sister.
As soon as Mrs. Kinkirk hung up the phone, she dialed up mommy and daddy and told them everything they needed to know.
It was Annie who first thought of it.
"What if we let them rent out the house?"
"I don't know, Mrs. Camden. You should probably be talking to Eric about this."
El Diablo was right. Annie waited for her husband to return from work, and asked him the same question (after, of course, letting him in on Mary's struggles).
"I don't know, Annie. Mary... she's proven herself to be very irresponsible."
"Come on, Eric. This is our daughter we're talking about. And, we'll be able to get that money off the house. We could put on the additions we've always wanted." Annie, of course, referred to her new home. She wanted to turn the attic into a makeshift ballroom. Of course, that would require some extra money. Money that would come from a certain 'bad seed' of the family.
Eric sighed. "I'll have to think about it."
"What do you mean 'think about it'?"
"Well, Annie... if we rent the place out to Mary... we're her parents, and she might think she doesn't have to pay the rent each month. And if she's late, we can't just kick her out."
"What do you mean? Of course we can. It won't have to come to that anyway, Eric. Just do it. For me?"
"But Annie, if we just hold out for a couple more weeks—there's this family that really likes the house. We can charge them much more than we could ever, in good conscience, charge Mary."
"Nonsense. We'll do it."
"But—"
"We'll do it."
Eric submitted to Annie's power.
Annie couldn't wait to have Mary nearby again. Under her thumb again. Mary's independence had been a major kick in the hide to Annie. To see her come crawling back under her roof (albeit, one she didn't live in anymore) was satisfying to say the least.
Ruthie overheard the entire conversation.
Mary.
Mary.
There was something about Mary.
Something that Ruthie just didn't like.
It really dated back to when Mary vandalized the school gym, and was subsequently (after, of course, more scandal, trials, tribulations, and debt collectors) sent away to Buffalo.
Something happened in that period of time to make Ruthie really dislike her older sister. That dislike stayed with Ruthie. That dislike was still in Ruthie, now sixteen.
The idea of Mary and her hubby inhabiting the house she grew up in made Ruthie angry. Very angry.
Of course, there was nothing she could do about it. Annie wanted it, so Annie was going to get it. Even Ruthie knew who she could and could not mess with. All the same, she didn't like the situation. Not at all.
Mary picked up the phone. She had been asleep, even though it was seven in the evening. Carlos hadn't returned from work yet. She, of course, was used to this.
She wasn't used to, however, the sound of her mother's voice on the phone.
"Mom?" She asked, bewildered, after Annie greeted her.
"Mary! I haven't heard your voice in so long."
"Mom?"
"I've heard about your situation, and I really want to help. You were my first-born daughter, after all. It breaks my heart to hear that you're suffering."
"Mom?"
"I really want to help you out—especially little Charles—and I wondered if you'd like to move into the old house."
Mary was speechless. Annie continued on:
"You would have to pay rent, but only if you can manage it. And your father and I could help out with the utilities."
Mary couldn't believe it. She was torn. On one hand, this sounded too good to be true. On the other hand, if she took her mother's help, it would be as if she were admitting her failure as an independent woman.
But Mary took one look at Charles and realized she knew what she had to do. Pride be damned, she had to do what was best for her son. So she agreed.
And the rest, is history.
Well, not necessarily. Let me take that last sentence back.
No. The rest was just beginning.
Mary, Carlos and Charles did indeed move into the old house. But that wasn't all. Carlos still didn't make much money. Carlos still had his problems with women and drugs. The only thing that changed in Mary Camden's life was her address.