II
"NO!" I screamed at the cell phone in my hand.
"Why not, Lily?" my mother's drunken coked out voice blared through the phone. I could tell that she had a long cigarette floating out of the left side of her mouth. Of course it was the left side, she never smoked out of the right side. I was sitting in the courtyard of Frank's humble abode. Yeah humble, it's a mansion on cliff overlooking the ocean. Frank said he was in the bathroom, but I knew he was probably looking out of some unseen window jacking-off to the sight of me on the phone. That guy is gross, anything to get that unrealistic pleasure that comes with an orgasm. Well I can't say I blame him. You know it's really funny how people can change because of someone else's mistake. Cough, my dad, cough.
I would have given it all up just for a chance to see him, the way his face light up when I pointed to "Where The Wild Things Are" every night for him to read, the funny faces he would make when he hurt himself and was trying to hold back a curse word, or even accidentally walking in on him trying to romantically kiss my mother, cook dinner, and remove her shirt all at the same time. The last one only happened once, but I remember it like it happened two minutes ago. It's really cold in here could you… thanks.
I remember there was a slight breeze that day. The wind blew through my hair as I continued to argue with my mother.
"Hon, this woman just wants to see you. How much harm could a weekend be? Plus she would probably take you to one of those shows… um, you know the kind you like."
"Mom, I don't like anything about New York. And if you are referring to the Blue Man Group, I only like the Boston version."
"They are all the same!"
"Yeah, but one is in New York." I said as I pounded the phone down into my palm. I turned to look out over the cliff. It had been a year since we moved to L.A. I love it, well I loved anything that didn't make me constantly think about my dad. But, L.A. is my favorite, well then there's Boston, oh and, well okay so it's among my many favorites.
~*~
It was late that evening when I got home. Jim's car was parked in front of our apartment. Jim was the flavor of the week for my mother, as Frank was mine. I think they both knew that come Saturday they would be just a name in our little black books. I opened the door to find my mother "entertaining" our guest on the sofa. Ewe! As it were I ran quickly to my room and tried to block out the moans coming from next door. At least after she came once they moved into her room.
I had pasta that night. I ate it alone with my Cruel Intentions soundtrack playing slow sweat tunes in the background. Then I heard it.
"Hey hon., what did you make me?" Mom asked as she watched Jim leave. She stood in the doorway in her kimono. The light from the kitchen made me only able to see her silhouette.
"Chicken noodle soup," I replied, "it's in the pantry, and you have to cook it first."
"Oh so I have to do it myself?" She asked with her "I'm always the victim" face on. I didn't feel sorry for her at all.
"Yes, now shoo." I said as I waved my hand. Sometimes I wished I had been a bit nicer in those last few days, but what does it matter what I wish, it's what I did that counts. Oh, I'm sorry it's just I miss her. I don't mean to cry. No really it's not okay, I'm sorry. Can I get a tissue? Thanks.
"I've been thinking… about that trip to your gran…"
"No mother!" I said. That was the last thing I wanted to talk about. "I don't want…"
"Listen to me!"
"No!" I screamed just as she had.
"Shut up!" I closed my mouth, I shouldn't have. I regret it now, but what can I do? "You want a car, right?" she asked calming down some. God did I want one, so I listened. "You'll need one for the trip, so I have thought about it, and if you go on the trip then you'll keep the one you choose. Fair enough?" There was an awkward silence. I wanted a car but would have given anything not to return to New York. Car wins.
"Deal." With that I signed the papers with Satan. I killed all whom I ever thought of loving. I killed myself.
~*~
It was the car of my dreams it looked like the convertible from Thelma and Louise. I would have given anything for that car, and it just so happens that I gave everything. It was red, like blood. Inside the car I decorated the seats with cow patterns, and the mirror with dice (the big fuzzy kind). I was ready to go to, this I knew would be the car to take me over the river and through the woods, but I didn't know it wasn't round-trip. I didn't know…
"NO!" I screamed at the cell phone in my hand.
"Why not, Lily?" my mother's drunken coked out voice blared through the phone. I could tell that she had a long cigarette floating out of the left side of her mouth. Of course it was the left side, she never smoked out of the right side. I was sitting in the courtyard of Frank's humble abode. Yeah humble, it's a mansion on cliff overlooking the ocean. Frank said he was in the bathroom, but I knew he was probably looking out of some unseen window jacking-off to the sight of me on the phone. That guy is gross, anything to get that unrealistic pleasure that comes with an orgasm. Well I can't say I blame him. You know it's really funny how people can change because of someone else's mistake. Cough, my dad, cough.
I would have given it all up just for a chance to see him, the way his face light up when I pointed to "Where The Wild Things Are" every night for him to read, the funny faces he would make when he hurt himself and was trying to hold back a curse word, or even accidentally walking in on him trying to romantically kiss my mother, cook dinner, and remove her shirt all at the same time. The last one only happened once, but I remember it like it happened two minutes ago. It's really cold in here could you… thanks.
I remember there was a slight breeze that day. The wind blew through my hair as I continued to argue with my mother.
"Hon, this woman just wants to see you. How much harm could a weekend be? Plus she would probably take you to one of those shows… um, you know the kind you like."
"Mom, I don't like anything about New York. And if you are referring to the Blue Man Group, I only like the Boston version."
"They are all the same!"
"Yeah, but one is in New York." I said as I pounded the phone down into my palm. I turned to look out over the cliff. It had been a year since we moved to L.A. I love it, well I loved anything that didn't make me constantly think about my dad. But, L.A. is my favorite, well then there's Boston, oh and, well okay so it's among my many favorites.
~*~
It was late that evening when I got home. Jim's car was parked in front of our apartment. Jim was the flavor of the week for my mother, as Frank was mine. I think they both knew that come Saturday they would be just a name in our little black books. I opened the door to find my mother "entertaining" our guest on the sofa. Ewe! As it were I ran quickly to my room and tried to block out the moans coming from next door. At least after she came once they moved into her room.
I had pasta that night. I ate it alone with my Cruel Intentions soundtrack playing slow sweat tunes in the background. Then I heard it.
"Hey hon., what did you make me?" Mom asked as she watched Jim leave. She stood in the doorway in her kimono. The light from the kitchen made me only able to see her silhouette.
"Chicken noodle soup," I replied, "it's in the pantry, and you have to cook it first."
"Oh so I have to do it myself?" She asked with her "I'm always the victim" face on. I didn't feel sorry for her at all.
"Yes, now shoo." I said as I waved my hand. Sometimes I wished I had been a bit nicer in those last few days, but what does it matter what I wish, it's what I did that counts. Oh, I'm sorry it's just I miss her. I don't mean to cry. No really it's not okay, I'm sorry. Can I get a tissue? Thanks.
"I've been thinking… about that trip to your gran…"
"No mother!" I said. That was the last thing I wanted to talk about. "I don't want…"
"Listen to me!"
"No!" I screamed just as she had.
"Shut up!" I closed my mouth, I shouldn't have. I regret it now, but what can I do? "You want a car, right?" she asked calming down some. God did I want one, so I listened. "You'll need one for the trip, so I have thought about it, and if you go on the trip then you'll keep the one you choose. Fair enough?" There was an awkward silence. I wanted a car but would have given anything not to return to New York. Car wins.
"Deal." With that I signed the papers with Satan. I killed all whom I ever thought of loving. I killed myself.
~*~
It was the car of my dreams it looked like the convertible from Thelma and Louise. I would have given anything for that car, and it just so happens that I gave everything. It was red, like blood. Inside the car I decorated the seats with cow patterns, and the mirror with dice (the big fuzzy kind). I was ready to go to, this I knew would be the car to take me over the river and through the woods, but I didn't know it wasn't round-trip. I didn't know…
