This is excerpted from a chapter in my memoir Only Good Things.
At this point in the book I am eight years old. The story includes my cousins, Tracey and Tammey, who I grew up with like sisters.
1973
Dark Side of The Moon
Elaine stands with her feet far apart and hands in her back pockets. “So what do you guys wanna do this weekend?” she asks us.
Me and my cousins Tracey and Tammey sit on the barstools in the kitchen at Grandpa Ben and Elaine’s apartment. We look at each other and shrug.
“I dunno…” Tracey says, “Our mom usually decides what we're doing on weekends.”
“You stay with me for the weekend, you get to decide” Elaine says, “Whatever you want….” She takes a comb out of her back pocket and combs her black hair straight back.
“Anything we want?” Tracey asks.
“Yep. Anything.” Elaine says with a smile.
I give this some good thought. What’s something my mom never lets me do? I raise my hand like at school. “I want to eat a whole jar of chocolate frosting!” I say.
“Okay.” Elaine says. “You guys can walk down to the 7-11 at the corner. Take Jenny with you, too.” She says.
Jenny is my Grandpa and Elaine’s daughter. She’s only 6, but still Elaine says Jenny is our aunt and they always buy us birthday cards that say “To my niece…” Jenny is a little squirt and I don’t care what they say, we’re not gonna call her Aunt Jenny. That is so stupid.
Elaine grabs her wallet out of the back pocket of her corduroys and hands me two bucks. She always carries a boy wallet and a comb in her back pocket, not a purse.
It’s hard to think of reasons why Grandpa would leave my pretty Grandma to be with Elaine. She has short hair parted on the side, and her face is all scarred up from having bad skin when she was a teenager. I mean she’s nice enough and all. Maybe it’s because they had Jenny. Elaine has a Mom that only talks Mexican and calls me Huerita, and a sister named Peaches who babysits me sometimes. They like me a lot on account of my blonde hair, which they’re always petting and braiding.
It’s nighttime, but me, Tammey and Tracey walk by ourselves down to the corner store. We don’t even wear shoes because Elaine doesn’t make us. Jenny comes running up behind us. “Hey wait for me!” she says. Then she stops to take off her shoes just to copy us. Aunt Jenny! Ha!
Jenny is short with a round face, brown eyes and light brown hair. Looks like they put a bowl on her head and cut around it is what my mom said, and mom ought to know because she used to be a hairstylist. The weird thing about Jenny is that her tear ducts got all screwed up when she was born. They’re in the wrong place, so when she cries, tears come out the side of her nose.
We let Jenny tag along with us, because she pretty much does whatever we tell her and doesn’t annoy us too much except for when she laughs. She laughs all the time at everything and it’s not like a normal laugh but it’s like all her air comes out at once or something. My mom says it’s a nervous laugh. I wonder what Jenny is so nervous about.
We spend our money on the frosting and even have some left over for Bazookas. Tracey gives everyone a piece, even Jenny, as we head back to the apartment.
“What do you wanna do tonight, Tracey?” I ask.
Tracey crosses her arms and looks straight ahead all serious. “She said we could do anything.” Tracey squints her eyes like she’s cooking up something good, blows a big bubble with her bazooka and pops it loud. “She said anything….”
Back at the apartment, Me and Tammey sit on the barstools and share my container of frosting.
“Elaine, how old are you?” Tammey asks.
“Twenty-one.” She says.
“Oh.” Tammey licks chocolate frosting off her fingers and hands the container back to me.
I take another bite, then think about that for a minute. “My mommy’s older than you. She’s twenty four I think.” I say. “When will Grandpa be home?”
“That bastard ain’t been home in three days. Who the hell knows when he’ll be home.” She says and then laughs like that’s funny.
“Why is Grandpa a bastard?”, Tammey asks.
“Well… sometimes he just is, kiddo.” Elaine says, not like she’s mad but like that’s just the way things are around here.
The last time me and my cousins had a weekend with Grandpa, he taught us all these funny songs that we sang in the car, like this one about Comet. It goes; COMET will make your skin turn green, COMET- it’s made of gasoline, COMET- will make you vomit…so get some COMET and VOMIT today!
We sang it over and over at the top of our lungs and Grandpa just laughed. I sang it for my mom when I got home but she just said stop singing that stupid song and be quiet and stuff like that. Grandpa has a crewcut on his head that feels like one of those fuzzy blankets they have in motels. He always lets me touch his crewcut whenever I feel like it. He lets us jump around in the backseat of the car and sing as loud as we want. He’s never mean to me, but all the grown ups are always mad at him.
We keep eating our frosting until we are both sick to our stomachs, then we give the leftovers to Jenny. That wasn’t as much fun as I thought it would be. I kinda wish I didn’t eat it now but I wouldn’t say that.
Tracey sits on the couch still blowing Bazooka bubbles and cracking them. Elaine sits next to her, chewing her fingernails until one of them starts to bleed. She wipes the blood on her corduroys.
“So what’s it gonna be kiddo? What is your special request for the night?”
Tracey stands up, puts her hands on her hips and says, “You said anything.”
“Yeah, that’s right.” Elaine nods.
“Okay then – what about taking us to see a porno movie?” Tracey leans forward and glares at Elaine like a dare. She squints her eyes.
“What’s a poor–no movie?” I ask Tammey.
“It has naked people and stuff.” Tammey says.
“Ewww…gross.”
“Okay.” Elaine nods her head. “You got it.”
Tracey stops squinting and cracking her gum. Her eyes are wide open now and she looks close at Elaine’s face to see if she’s joking. She kinda laughs a little hahaha…. like she didn’t think Elaine would ever really say yes, but Tracey’s real stubborn and now she can’t take it back.
Later on, Elaine packs us up in the car and we head out to the movies. My stomach is still sick from the frosting and also because I really don’t want to go but I don’t want to act like a baby in front of Tracey and everyone.
When we get to the drive-in, the light up sign outside says Women in Cages. Elaine tells us to duck down behind the backseat and covers us with a blanket while she buys her ticket.
After she drives in everyone laughs because we got away with something. But I don’t. I know we had to hide because little kids aren’t supposed to be here. Jenny is sucking her thumb and sleeping before the movie even starts.
Elaine looks over the back seat and says, “Okay you guys, this is what you wanted. But you have to promise me that you won’t tell your moms okay? That’s the deal.”
We all promise and I feel worse.
The movie is all these ladies in prison, and they are always fighting when they’re soapy in the shower, or chasing each other through the jungle with knives, or fighting in the kitchen. Whatever they’re doing, they’re naked and fighting. It makes me feel sicker, so I lie my head down on the backseat and try to go to sleep. I wish I was at home so Daddy could read to me from “Doctor Dolittle” and then tuck me in and put my music box on. But Daddy’s gone, and Mom just stays in her room with the door closed. After a few more minutes, Tammey lays her head down next to mine, and then finally Tracey does too. I think we’ve all seen enough. But Elaine keeps watching the movie all the way to the end.
The next day, Grandpa still isn’t home. Elaine takes us out for pancakes at Sambo’s, then we play outside in front of the apartment building. We don’t want to do any crazy things today. But we still don’t wear our shoes because Elaine doesn’t make us.
We play hide and seek in the alley. Tracey is it, and I have a chance to make it to the safe zone while her back is turned, so I make a run for it. I’m almost there…Olly Olly Oxen Free I shout and then- a sharp pain goes right through my foot and I scream. I look down and see a big piece of broken glass sticking out of my heel. I hold my breath and pull it out as fast as I can.
Tammey and Tracey hear my scream and come running. “Time out! Time out!” Tammey shouts as Tracey chases her.
Tracey and Tammey both gasp when they see my foot and all the blood on the ground. Tracey holds one of my arms and Tammey holds the other as they help me half-walk, half-hop back up the stairs to the apartment. With every step I feel the THROB THROB THROB in my foot. When we get to the top of the stairs, Tracey says, “Look at all the blood!” She squints her eyes and her shoulders go up around her ears.
I look behind me and see a trail of my footprints outlined in blood and its like everything stops for a minute. I’ve never seen that much of my blood before. And there it is, on the steps. It’s like saying “Hollye was here”. It makes me feel kinda important.
Tracey runs inside and shouts to Elaine what happened. Tammey sits beside me on the top step. She has one hand on mine, and pats me gently on the back with the other. “Awww…Poor baby.” I forget about the pain and just stare at my bloody footprints.
We see Jenny running around downstairs looking for us.
“Hey! Where’d everybody go?!” she turns her palms up and shrugs. “No one ever found me…ha ha!” she shouts out loud to no one in particular. She’s so lame. She starts up the stairs and sees the blood. “Ewww! Sick!” She squints her eyes shut and sticks her tongue out.
Tammey rolls her eyes.
Elaine comes out with a roll of paper towels and stops when she sees the mess. “Oh boy, kid. You really did it this time. That’s a good one.” She points to my foot. I can’t believe I’m not crying. It really hurts.
I tear a paper towel off the roll, fold it in fourths and hold it against the bottom of my foot. From the other side, I see the blood start in a little spot and then spread out in the towel like a flower blooming.
Elaine grabs the hose. She turns it on and runs it over my foot. The cool water stings at first but feels good at the same time. Then she stretches the hose to the steps to wash away the bloody trail.
“NO!” I jump up.
Elaine turns to look at me, “Whats a matter?”
“Don’t!” I shout, holding onto the railing and hopping up and down on my one good foot.
“Huh? What are you talking about?” she says, spraying down the steps.
“My footprints…” I don’t know why but I feel all sick and shaky.
“I’m not gonna leave all this blood on the stairs you kooky kid! That’s gross! Geez!” She laughs and looks at me with one eyebrow raised. She shakes her head back and forth while she washes all the blood away. “Boy, you are one weird kid, Hollye Tamale.” she says.
Tears start running down my cheeks.
Tammey rests her head on my shoulder and squeezes me tighter, “It must really hurt, huh?” she says. But it has nothing to do with my foot really, and I don’t know how to explain it. I hop inside with my bloody paper towel tight in my hand. I put it in my suitcase, in the secret compartment. All I keep thinking is how much I want my mom to see it. This is me. It’s almost like proof that I am real.
********
The sky is gray and dusty when Elaine drops me off at home. I lift my suitcase out of the backseat and drag it across the dead front lawn. Mom stands at the curb, and Elaine rolls down her car window. They say something about Grandpa. They say things about Daddy. I don’t know why Daddy left, or when he’s coming back. They talk quiet but I stand close by, trying to hear.
“Go in the house!” Mom orders me, then turns back to Elaine. I go inside and unpack my paper towel, unfolding it carefully. When I hold it up to the light, it looks like art, like a painting only I could make. Mom comes inside and I can’t wait to show her my treasure.
But Mom disappears into her room again. She’s been real grouchy all the time lately. One day she ripped my David Cassidy poster off the wall and threw it in the trash for no reason. I was really upset but all she said was stop crying over nothing. Mostly I stay quiet and out of her way, because Christopher is always so much trouble and I don’t want to make anything worse. But I can’t hold in my excitement anymore so I follow her into her room.
“Mom- look!” I hold up my bloody paper towel.
Her face goes sour. “God Hollye!” She grabs it out of my hand, crumples it up and walks out of the room.
Mom. Why don’t you see me?
My heart pounds in my ears. I limp after her but when I find her in the kitchen my paper towel is gone.
I don’t know why, but I feel like she crushed ME, not the paper towel. I run to my room and fall face down on the bed. Hot, salty tears wet my face and pillow. I know everyone thinks I’m acting weird, but I think they are weird. People in my family don’t act like they’re supposed to. What’s wrong with us? Why can’t we be like the Brady Bunch? They never scream at their kids for no reason or take them to porno movies.
I lift my hand in front of my face to see the veins that carry my blood. Why are they blue when my blood is dark red? Where is Daddy? Why is Mommy mad?
My hand casts a shadow on the wall. Sometimes I feel like that’s all I am, just a dumb shadow on the wall of my Mom’s house. I see the scotch tape over the ripped corners where my David Cassidy poster used to be. My face gets hot and my heart starts to pound. I jump up and stomp through the house into the kitchen. I dig my hands through the trash until I find my paper towel, crumpled and stuffed way down under the eggshells and coffee grounds. I shake it out and neatly fold it again. I put it in my pocket.
“There I am.” I say to myself.
