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My mother went crazy two weeks and five days after my seventeenth birthday. Well that's not exactly true, she had always been crazy but quietly so. She went from paranoia and mood swings to eating sticks of chalk like candy and covering the walls in tin foil. Mama was an artist so at first I just figured it was another piece of her work but in my heart I knew things would never be the same. Eight days after she began to unravel like a threadbare quilt we went to visit my father. He had been no more than a name to me on a birth certificate and when my mother told me to get in the car I had no idea where we were going but I was game.
Hell I was even a little bit relieved, see Mama and I always went on adventures, sometimes we would get in the car and just drive until we found somewhere fun to stop she was just spontaneous like that. Loads of people were down on her about me not being in school and not having friends my own age , they didn't understand us is all. Mama had home schooled me because she didn't think the school systems were doing that all fire good at teaching kids what they ought to know plus we were sort of poor and she knew that even the she could do wouldn't stop other kids from thinking less of me. When she got to be a little more well known and we had lots of money she'd said I could choose whether or not I wanted to go to public school but by then I was spoiled to our ways and I couldn't see giving up adventures in the car and afternoons on the beach to be stuck in a hot smelly class room with thirty other kids and a teacher who didn't even know me.
Other kids already thought I was plenty weird so how could I tell them I had no idea how to play old maid or go fish but I sure as hell knew how to play spades, hearts and poker? So instead of playing games with other kids and going to sleepovers I was staying up all night to listen to Mama and her friends talk about everything from the latest politics to whether cubism was a valid form of artistic expression or whether it was simply too structured .
I loved my life and I loved my Mama something fierce that's how I knew things would never ever be the same. I had grabbed two pairs of jeans and a couple of tee shirts along with some clean panties and a tooth brush plus my art books because with mama you never could tell if you were just going to the grocery store or if you'd end up being gone for a week. I shoved my feet into a pair of flip flops and tossed my sneakers into the bag as an afterthought and slung my beat up denim knapsack with random patches sewn helter skelter to the fabric over my shoulder . Running down the stairs I didn't look back because it would have hurt to much I wanted to pretend that I'd be back in an hour or a day or a week but I knew better.
As we drove down the coast I stared at the beach as Moody's mood for love played on the radio. There I go, There I go, There I go There I go I wanted to cry but I couldn't I did not want to let on just then that I knew things were changing maybe this was what they meant by growing pains because this hurt like fucking hell. I glanced over at Mama she had her purple shades over her eyes and she was still the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. I don't mean that like most people think either, when I was little I had thought she was pretty simply because she was my mama but a few years ago I had realized that she really was truly a breath taking woman it was a realization that struck me as odd as if I had believed in fairy tales my whole life only to find that they were real.
She was looking at the road and tapping her right hand against the cushioned steering wheel while she worried her full bottom lip with her white teeth. The wind from the open window stirred her long hair that almost always seemed to be in windswept disarray anyway. I stopped looking and opened the glove box. Reaching my hand past a flash light and a pack of big red I pulled out a box of Newport's and shut the compartment. Tapping the unopened pack against my thigh for a moment before ripping away cellophane I pulled a cigarette from the pack and reached on the dashboard to grab my lighter patterned with sunflowers. I had gotten the lighter and ten other like it when we'd driven from California to the Jersey shore, Mama had, had a gallery show in New York a two weeks later and so we had stayed in Atlantic city . The beaches weren't like California instead they seemed dirty and desolate but it was still an adventure.
I snapped back to reality remembering the lingering taste of taffy and the smell of roasted peanuts and metallic salt. Dismissing the memory I took a deep pull from my cigarette and stared out the window blowing a stream of smoke into the already polluted air. Sighing I reached between my legs and down into the deep front pocket of my knapsack my fingers drifted over a patch of crumbs from god only knows what and a sticky piece of unwrapped hard candy before brushing the very edge of my red heart shaped sunglasses.
Taking the novelty shades out I shook the crumbs away and slid them on my face as the cigarette I held between my lips shook a tiny bit and deposited a tiny pile of ashes on my already dirty bag. I watched Mama glance at me from the corner of my eye before turning her gaze back to the endless road before us. I wanted to ask her where we were headed but I knew she would say what she always did, "We're headed for tomorrow silly." At least I hoped that's what she would say, I didn't want answers bad enough to shake the foundation of every thing that was familiar to me even though I could already feel the truths I had known my whole life breaking away and scattering into the wind.
It only took about an hour or so for us to pull up in front of a two story house in some suburb, the house looked neat and clean and for some reason it struck fear in my heart I wanted to go back to our apartment right now, I wanted to walk in and see black and white murals painted on the walls and hear Billie Holiday playing smooth and low in the background while people came and went like we had a revolving door. I wanted, I wanted, I wanted. I wanted the security of knowing that there was nothing in the refrigerator but sushi fresh salad and bottles of water and that dinner was merely a phone call away but wanting didn't magically make all things right.
The car was in park and Mama was shaking me as if to rouse me from sleep, I stared at her through the darkened lenses of my sunglasses and frowned. She hadn't said so much as a word for the whole drive and now she was motioning for me to get out of the car.
I moved slowly trying to rack my brain, of all the places we had ever been I'd never been to this house. She was ringing the door bell as I grabbed my bag and the shut the passenger side door.
I walked up the driveway and waited behind her. A tall dark skinned woman with jet black hair opened the door of the house and looked at us. I didn't know her and she couldn't have been more than a few years older than me but she seemed to know exactly who we were. In fact she seemed to have been expecting us.
She smiled broadly and stepped back inviting us to
"Come on in."
She had an accent like the summer air in Baton Rouge deep thick and slightly smothering. The house looked like an ad for cleaning products there wasn't so much as a speck of dirt anywhere and far as I could tell there wasn't an artist within miles of the place.
We sat down in the living room that was stark white with peach sofas and deep dark wooden furniture, I had my doubts as to whether the couch had ever been sat upon. The room made me uncomfortable and slightly self-conscious like I should have scrubbed my self clean before walking into it.
The woman sat across from us perched on the edge of an overstuffed peach chair.
"Why you must be little Billie, I'm Satin." I stared at her from behind my shades and raised an eyebrow.
Satin? was she fucking kidding me and who the hell was this chick calling little did I look like some damn toddler?
"Nice to meet you."
I drawled mocking her accent. Mama threw me a furious glance and turned to the woman and smiled.
"It's nice to finally meet you Satin, You have a lovely home."
The woman smiled and offered us a drink I wanted a drink all right but I had a feeling she didn't mean what I meant. When Satin disappeared into the kitchen Mama turned to me.
"You're staying here kid so make nice, I'll be back for you after a while."
I stared at her unable to comprehend what she was telling me. Sure I'd stayed with her friends before loads of times but certainly not people I didn't know and none of Mama's friends lived in perfect little suburbs. I felt like puking all over the damn peach sofa.
"Who is this woman?" I asked
"She's your father's wife."
Mama said standing and grabbing her keys off of the coffee table . I sat still for a moment shocked beyond words or motion. I heard the front door slam before I jumped up, by the time I'd gotten to the driveway she was racing down the street like a bat out of hell.