*Friday, July 8th 1994- One week after my mother's death…
I was pacing around my mother's room in our house. I had pulled out a brown box that was hiding in her closet and placed it on her made bed. I knew what was in it but I didn't want to open it yet… didn't know if I'd be able to handle it without crying.
Sons of Anarchy members and their old ladies from chapters all across the United States had slowly been filling the streets of Galveston, Texas for the past week; it wasn't until today, however, that they started rolling in in massive droves. My mother's funeral was set for Sunday afternoon at 2pm.
This past week could go down in history as one of the worst weeks in my life… only matching that to the week after my father's passing.
It was one of the hottest summers I had experienced in Southern Texas; I was used to it but I'm not gonna lie when I say it was almost unbearable to be outside for any long period of time during the day.
I had spent most of the week helping my aunt Linda with the funeral preparations; which I had insisted on, I didn't want to sit around doing nothing. The other half of my time was spent at the stables with my horse, Harriet.
My parents had bought me Harriet when I was 4. She was young, herself, being only 2 years old. In Texas, it's not unheard of to have a horse- everyone's a cowboy down here. For being only 4, I remember the day I got Harriet like it was yesterday…
[My mom and I pulled up to the stables in my dad's 1968 Ford pickup truck; my dad was trailing behind us on his Harley. She looked over at me in the passenger seat with a huge smile.
"You ready, baby? Let's go play with some horseys!" she exclaimed as she opened the car door to get out.
"Yay!" I screamed and scooted my butt across the seat to get out of the driver's side door with her. My dad had parked his bike and was walking up towards his wife with a grin.
I ran hurriedly up to the stables in front of them. My dad ran up behind me and hoisted me up in the air, I was giggling the entire time. We went through the stinky stables and ended up in a huge pasture on the other side as my dad set me down on the grass. The sky was a deep orange and pink hue due to the setting sun. It was warm and crickets were chirping in the background.
I looked over and there she was, leaning her huge head over the wooden fence. A beautiful, shiny black horse; she looked majestic...it was the biggest animal I had ever seen in person.
I looked up at her, stunned.
"This is Harriet, Chey." My dad said as he was bending down to my level, "she's all yours." He whispered.
I was in awe. "Mine?" I asked, eyes the size of saucers. My dad nodded his head. My mom handed me a piece of carrot and told me to feed it to Harriet.
"Palms up. Don't let her bite your little fingers off, hunny." She said.
I walked up to the fence with a just a hint of hesitation. Harriet neighed and shook her head, her mane flying everywhere. With that, I giggled and all hesitation was gone. I climbed up the fence and held the carrot in front of Harriet's face. Her lips smacking and big human-like teeth crunching down on the carrot, made me laugh.
I jumped down off the fence, "I wanna ride her! I wanna go fast like daddy!" I said, jumping up and down and clapping my hands with excitement.
My mom laughed, picked me up and handed me another carrot. She carried me over to Harriet.
"Ok, baby. We'll get you some lessons." She told me as she kissed my forehead; I smiled and fed my new, beautiful horse the carrot.]
My reverie was interrupted by the loud, thunderous roar of motorcycles going past my house. I looked out the window and saw a group of about 20-25 bikes rolling by headed towards the clubhouse. From the window I could see the back of the guy's kuttes; the SoA Grim Reaper holding a crystal ball with the anarchy "A" in the middle, along with a scythe whose handle had been replaced with a M16 rifle.
As the last guy rode by, I kept staring out the window.
What was I going to do? Where was I going to live? What is going to happen to my parent's house?...to my house? The only time my mind stopped racing was during the couple hours I got of sleep a day and even then I was having nightmares. This had been the first time I had been alone this week- I had been staying with uncle Sam and aunt Linda at their house.
As I stood at the window thinking, a slow, acoustic version of Fortunate Son by Creedence Clearwater Revival came on the radio- I snapped out of it. I walked over to my mom's dresser and turned it up and starting singing quietly along to the guitar riffs…
*Some folks are born to wave the flag; oh, they're red, white and blue; and when the band plays "hail to the chief'; oh, they point the cannon at you, lord… it ain't me, it ain't me… I ain't no senator's son, son… it ain't me, it ain't me… I ain't no fortunate one, no…*
I walked over from the dresser to the box on the bed and opened it. I dragged the box on the floor and sat down on the carpet. I reached in the box and dug around; I started pulling handfuls of old photographs out and laying them on the floor around me.
I smiled at a black and white photo of my dad, back in the 60's, hanging out with a few of his Vietnam army buddies on their bikes. I turned the photo over; written in pen was the date and the names of each guy in the picture: May '69- Charlie Decker, John Teller, Piney Winston & Clay Morrow- Sons of Anarchy, Charming California. I grazed my thumb over my mother's writing then set the photo down with the others.
Not quite sure how long I spent looking through photos of the MC, my parents, my family, Halloween parties, crab feasts, Christmases, weddings, motorcycle rallies, me when I was a baby…because before I knew it, a warm orange glow was coming through the open blinds of the window. I stood up and wiped the tears from my face and stretched.
"I need a cigarette." I told myself. I hadn't smoked a cigarette in a week but… well, fuck it.
I walked across the hall and into my room. I pulled out a cigarette from the pack and my lighter. I then made the few steps over to my window and pushed it open all the way. I climbed through the window and onto the roof of the house- this was my favorite spot.
The air had become cooler with the onset of twilight. The orange sky was splattered with wispy, purple clouds. The smell of brine, from Galveston Bay, and honeysuckle permeated the air around me.
I lit my cigarette and put it to my mouth and took a deep drag. I sat there in silence just staring at the lush, green backyard and the faint twinkling of the newly appearing stars.
I was on my fourth drag when I heard high-heeled footsteps coming towards the open window.
"Hey, baby." A woman's voice said. Sounded exactly like my mother.
I snapped my head over and saw a timeless beauty; sticking her head out of the window looking at me.
"Aunt Gemma!" I screamed with a smile.
"Mind if I join you?" she asked, smiling back at me. I nodded and scooted over so there was room for her. She crawled out onto the roof and sat down next to me.
"Oh, it's nice up here." she said, pulling a cigarette out for herself. I snapped up my lighter for her cigarette and lit it for her. "Thanks. When did you start smoking?" she continued.
I shrugged, "I dunno. I don't really smoke… only when I'm stressed or bored, I guess." I answered.
She looked over at me with a smirk and put her arm around me. She really was beautiful; she had dark, auburn hair with blond highlights, her makeup was always flawless, nails always done. She was wearing tight jeans with high-heeled boots and a cream colored satin and lace tank top. I swear she didn't look any different now than she did in some of photos I had just gone through (she was in many- my mom and her were best friends).
Gemma, very much like my own mother, was loved by all. You couldn't help but love them. Always had a huge, beautiful, welcoming smile and open arms out. A lioness though, you didn't mess with either one's family; they both could turn deadly in a split second if you wronged them.
I leaned into her hug and laid my head on her shoulder.
"I've missed you. How're you doing, sweetheart?" she asked as she stroked my hair.
I scoffed, "I've been better." She squeezed me tighter then positioned herself so that she was looking at me face to face.
She grabbed both sides of my face with her hands, "I'm so sorry I haven't been around, baby. Shits been crazy at home." She said sincerely.
I knew what she meant. Her husband, John Teller- the founding member of SoA and also one of my dad's best friends- had been killed in a motorcycle accident late last year. I hadn't been able to make his funeral…trying to stay around for my mom and all but all of Galveston chapter's crew had. I hadn't seen Gemma for years. It wasn't until right now that I realized how much I loved having Gemma here…with me…it was like having my mom around- aunt Linda couldn't fill that void.
"I know." I nodded, my eyes starting to get a little glassy. "I'm just so-" I started crying, "so happy you're here now." I finished and wrapped both my arms around her. She let me sob into her hair and just held me, rocking gently back and forth.
