Tuesday, January 27, 2009

My Story, Part One



Morning light came through the curtain and fell across the bunk bed, waking Laura. Giggles came from the full-size bed on the other side of the room where her youngest sister slept with their mother. On the bed above her head, Erin rolled over, climbing down the metal bars at the foot of the bed, bleary eyed and yawning. Laura smiled, climbing out of her cocoon of blankets to join the giggly brigade on the queen ship.
“Good morning!” Mom said, tickling her stomach as she climbed up on the bed, Erin on her heels, Diana scooting over to make way for her older sisters. Most mornings were like this, smiles and tickles, just the four of them in one, large bed. They had to share this one room because the other three rooms were for their three teenage siblings. Someday, Laura would have her own room, but for now, she enjoyed waking up with sunshine and laughter.
“I love you!” They said, so many times just to be sure the others knew how much. You could never say those words enough. At least, Laura didn’t think you could.
After a half hour of laziness, of lying in the bed smiling, cuddling, Mom abruptly got to her feet, heading for the door. Laura sat up, sad that the morning silliness was gone, but ready to start her day.
“Breakfast?”
Downstairs, Mom poured cereal into bowls, setting them on the table with the milk.
“Can we swim today?” Laura asked. The only good thing about warm weather, was the wadding pool they had in the backyard. Swimming was her favorite thing to do, she might as well have been born a fish. The first one in the water, and the last one out, her dad called her a water baby, though she’d been born in winter.
“Maybe later.”

The doorbell rang. Mom got to her feet to answer. Laura knew it was probably her Aunt Cheryl, dropping off her kids so she could go to work. Excited, Laura followed.
“Morning,” Cheryl said, handing Mom a diaper bag. Priscilla ran through the door, Minnie Mouse shoes lighting up pink. Cheryl set the car seat on the floor in the living room, baby Ryan sleeping peacefully. She’d fix that.
Laura went to the baby, ran her hand over his tiny head, anxious to get him in her arms. There was nothing she liked better than babies, except maybe swimming.
“Can I hold him, Cheryl? Can I hold him?”
“Me first,” Erin argued. Erin loved nothing more than arguing. Starting fights, pouting, being plain-old-difficult. With a capital D.
“I’m going to hold him first,” Laura insisted. “I’m older.”
“Shhh, guys, let him sleep,” Mom whispered. She didn’t want to wake him. Mom would rather he sleep as long as his little heart desired.
“I’m running late. Thanks again, Judy.” She hugged Mom, then was out the door. Priscilla was already in the toy closet, digging through the mess of broken dolls and empty boxes.
“Chickey, you hungry?”
Priscilla’s nickname was Chickey. Laura had no earthly idea why, but that’s what it was. Chickey.

“Mom, I’m going to help you baby-sit today,” Laura told her. It always made her feel all grown up to help her mom with the littler ones. She was nine, practically ready to watch Erin and Diana, should Mom decide she had to run across the street for instant mashed potatoes.
“Come finish your breakfast.” Mom pulled another bowl from the cupboard. “Chickey, come eat something.”
Ryan chose that moment to start crying, sending Laura’s heart into an excited rhythm. Quickly sitting down on the couch, she held out her arms, more than ready to hold her cousin. Resigned, Mom sighed, unbuckling the straps that kept Ryan in his seat.
“No, I wanna hold him,” Erin whined, hopping onto the sofa next to Laura. Diana, sweet at age four, waited patiently for her turn.
“One at a time.” Mom handed Ryan to Laura, who went completely still, a smile lighting her blue eyes.
“Hold his head, Laura.” Mom kept her hand under Laura’s, just in case.
“Mom, I’m going to Troy’s for breakfast,” Carrie entered the room, dressed in very holey jeans and a sluttish, red top. Her hair was true to the latest styles, and her make-up was overdone.
“Okay. Don’t be gone all day.”
Carrie rolled her eyes and was gone.

By noon, they had the swimming pool up and running, everyone in their bathing suits. As they played in the sunshine, Brian, their only brother, finally rolled out of bed to sit in front of the TV and watch reruns of Bevis and Butthead.
“Don’t put that doll in the pool, Laura.” Mom hollered through the open sliding glass door.
“But, mom, she wants to swim.”
Mom shook her head, but let it go. She had six kids, nine younger siblings of her own she helped her mother with growing up, her sister’s kids to watch during the day, she found it easier to give in most of the time. Strength was a fleeting thing, there in the morning, but by the middle of the day, she couldn’t muster enough to care.
“Laura, it’s my turn with the doll,” Erin cried.
“It’s not yours,” Laura said stubbornly, hiding the doll behind her back.
“It’s not yours, either,” Erin, eight, said smartly. “It’s Carrie’s.”
“She don’t play dolls anymore.”
“Give her to me!” Erin lunged for the rag doll, soaked through with pool water. Priscilla joined in the game and tackled Laura. Diana, cold from being in the water too long, tried climbing out of the pool, but wasn’t tall enough to simply step over the low wall.
“Laura, help Diana out,” Mom said. She sat at the kitchen table, phone to her ear, talking to someone Laura didn’t know. She talked on the phone a lot lately. Laura never thought to ask who, she was too busy living in her own world. The games they invented, her, Erin, and Diana, were the best parts of her days. They could spend all day playing make believe, having tea parties with hot water and toast. Play with their large collection of Barbie’s, make the girls get drunk and act like fools in front of Ken. That was one of Laura’s favorites. Or when they played roller skating rink. They put on their skates and went back and forth, up and down the hallway, pretending to be at a skating arena with their boyfriends.

“Laura,” Mom shouted, pulling her back to the present.
Laura sighed, helping Diana to get out of the pool. She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her.
“Here you go, Bubbles,” Laura whispered. Another nickname. Diana was Tiny Bubbles. Like the song. Probably because she was the littlest, the cutest, with her tiny blond curls and bluer than blue eyes. They all had blue eyes, but Diana’s were somehow prettier.
Diana shivered, and went inside for Mom to help her put on warm clothes. Diana was always the first one out of the pool. She got cold easy.
Laura got back into the water to discover Erin had their favorite doll and was dragging her around in circles, creating a whirlpool.
“She’s my doll,” Laura insisted, yanking her from Erin’s hands. Erin shrieked bloody murder, sinking her teeth into Laura’s arm. Laura would have none of that, and grabbed Erin by the hair, pulling with all her might.
“Fukerassholebitchslut!” Erin scratched Laura, yelling the famous curse words. Always those words, in that order, real fast.
“Erin! Laura!” Mom ran out the door, a sweater in one hand, a shirtless Diana on her hip. Ryan started crying from his car seat. Angry, Mom set Diana down, tugged the shirt over her head, and grabbed Laura by the arm, pulling her from the pool. “Out, now. All of you.”
Erin climbed out, helping Priscilla. Dripping, they followed Mom into the house, where she picked up the phone from the table.

“I’m going to have to call you back.” She disconnected. Brian glanced over, a book in his hands. He wasn’t even paying attention to the TV anymore. He got to his feet, heading for his room where it was quieter, to read his book. There was rarely peace and quiet to be found in their household.
“Why do you always have to fight? Can’t you two ever get along?” Mom was practically screaming. Obviously she’d had enough for one day. “No more swimming. I’m going to put on Barney for Froggy, Chickey, and Ryan. Find something else to do.”
Froggy was Diana’s other nickname. One of their favorite movies of all time was The Frog Prince, starring Kermit. They loved the part where the Ogre said his “Stay asleep and let frog go” lines. They found it hysterical, and it had become a famous thing to say at bedtime, a nighttime ritual. Diana did it the best, and since she was small like Sir Robin the Brave-- as a frog, of course-- she got that nickname as well.
Laura quickly put on dry clothes, Erin did the same.
“I’m going to ride my bike.”
Mom waved them away.
“Me, too.” Erin followed.
“Copy cat,” Laura said.
“You’re a copy cat,” Erin countered.

Seattle, Washington wasn’t the safest place in the world...

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