Emancipation

By: CNJ

2: Jackie's Broken Self-Esteem

Roseanne:

"So Dan and I start of leave this greasy diner and the waitress squalls You're not leavin' a bigger tip? And I tell her, Next time we'll add to this time…and then start on the tip for the second time another time we come back…factory and drywall work doesn't let you keep up to date on tips, ya' know. And we leave." I finished our story. By that time, Dan, Jackie, and I were cracking up. We sat around the small table at Jackie's apartment two months later eating takeout Chinese and beer and talking.

Finally, Dan and I have moved into our own apartment, much to Mom and Dad's consternation. Dan works doing drywall while I work at Wellman Plastics Factory.

We talked a while longer. Jackie's still bartending and I think she likes being on her own. I know it's been good for her frayed nerves getting away from Mom and Dad. She's not biting her nails as much and her back doesn't look like an overstarched shirt anymore.

As we talked, Jackie pulled out a deck of cards and we played poker for a couple hours until we almost fell asleep sitting. Jackie had invited us to spend the night, so we got ready for bed and settled in our cots.

"Hey, sis…" Jackie whispered.

"Yeah…" I muttered.

"I'm glad you're out of there." Jackie's brown eyes peered at me seriously.

"Yeah…" I mumbled, feeling myself nodding off already. "They made the escape easy for me also by hiding out upstairs, so don't feel too bad about them not being there for your move." I was glad that those two didn't stay around; I had no need to say goodbye to two of the most sorry excuses of parents in the Midwest.

Jackie's different from me in that way. She's like the princess in that old story The Princess and the Pea about that girl who gets bothered by a tiny pea under twenty mattresses. With Jackie, she's so sensitive that she'd be bothered by mashed potatoes under two hundred mattresses; she'd be whining that the mashed potatoes felt gritty under her butt.

But Jackie's sensitivity makes her more understanding than most people I know. She's easy to love and always has a soft spot for others. She's the best sister I could ask for. I drifted off, mulling over all this.

Roseanne:

I woke up later that night without knowing why. Looking at Jackie's glow in the dark clock, I saw that it was two in the morning. Then I heard a soft sound, like a gasping noise. Once my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw Jackie's form sitting up in her cot. She seemed to be shaking and I heard gasps coming from her, then a sniffle. She's crying, I realized. Getting up, I came over and turned on the lamp.

"Jackie…is everything all right?" I whispered. Jackie continued to weep, her face buried in her hands. She stayed curled into a ball for a long minute, her long, thick, dark hair almost covering her small frame. I touched her shoulder softly. She jumped a little, then slowly looked up, wiping her wet face.

"What's the matter?" I reached over and grabbed some tissues and handed them to her. She blew her nose and wiped at her tearful eyes, only to have fresh tears well up in her eyes and spill down her face. My heart ached for her; she looked so broken with her mouth drooping and her thick brows slanted at the bridge of her nose.

"I'm…" Jackie gave another sob. "…j-j-just no good…"

"Oh, Jackie…" I stroked her back. "Sure you are…"

Jackie shook her head, the tears continuing to fill her eyes and run down her face. "I'm…a m-m-mess…can't do anything right…I cry t-too m-much…I'm just a little piece of shh-shit…even my own parents…" Jackie began to choke a little and her tears drowned out her ability to say any more.

I hugged her, my own stomach turning, feeling a wave of anger toward Bev and Al Harris for doing this to my sister. They tried to do it me too, but I didn't let them; I made myself tough and outwardly impervious to their cruel insults, their damn belt hitting me. But Jackie is just too sensitive and never had been able to develop that outer armor, so their cruelty just crushed Jackie. My heart just went out to her.

I let her cry for a long while in my arms, rocking her as if she were my child. In many ways, she was my child, more so than she ever was Al and Beverly Harris's. I'd held her often like this at home when she cried. I felt like her protector in that crazy, awful house.

Now that we're out of that house, we're safer, but I knew Jackie was still going to need a lot of nurturing and help to help her deal with the trauma of our childhood.

"Want some tea?" I asked gently. Jackie wiped her face and nodded. I knew where the tea things were, so I set about boiling the water and getting out the tea bags.

Jackie wrapped her blanket around herself and watched me with such a sad expression on her face that I had to reach over and stroke her hair some. Her big brown eyes reminded me of a sad lost puppy.

Her straight hair is actually very much like mine, but now it hung in tangled clumps around her thin, nervous face. She really could use some fattening up, I thought. I smiled ruefully as I glanced down at my own chubby body.

I brought the tea over and we sipped quietly. Jackie still had tears in her eyes and her hands trembled a little, but she was calmer; her crying was down from a Richter scale of fifty back to one again.

"D'ya' know why I don't have any mirrors in this place?" Jackie whispered, the tears still in her voice.

"You're afraid of the place looking too huge and you getting lost with your sense of direction," I quipped.

Jackie managed a shaky smile, but her tears welled up again. "I…c-c-can't stand to l-look at myself…" Her hands began to shake harder again and she had to put her cup down lest she ended up wearing her tea with the Richter scale going up again. I put my hand on her arm, trying to keep her from reverting back into the mess she'd been a little while ago.

I also feel so angry with Beverly and Albert Harris; they're just lousy excuses who called themselves our parents!

"I can tell you this, Jackie…" I told her softly. "Mom and Dad are just mean! If they didn't love us, that's their damn problem, not ours."

Jackie shrugged, her head down, fresh tears dripping down onto her cot.

"Hey, Jackie, look up…"I whispered. Jackie continued to cower, her pride and self-esteem so wounded that she just couldn't look up. "Hey, don't cower…you are a wonderful person…don't believe any of their crap. Dan and I love you and I'm selective about who I love. C'mon, Jackie, look up…don't cower…don't let them do this to you."

I took hold of her chin and moved it up, so her head was up. Her tearful eyes remained downcast and I had to wave a little to get her to raise her eyes. Beautiful brown eyes, even filled with tears. She only looked up briefly, but it was a start. Once I caught her eyes, I whispered, "I love you…you're a good person…the best sister I could ask for…you're smart…can you make yourself believe it?"

Jackie managed a weak nod, but was looking down again.

"Look how well you've managed on your own," I continued. "Holding down a decent job, managing this place, keeping track of your own checking account…all without any help from anyone….you're going to make it, Jacks…we'll get through this together…okay, sis?" I hugged her again.

Jackie nodded and hugged me, leaning on me for a long minute. A few more tears slid down her small face. I held her for a very long time. In some ways, broken up as she was, she gave me comfort as well.

More later!