Meg thought the day seemed almost too breezy, as only days in dreams could to be. The limbs of the tree under which the car was parked rocked back and forth creating a faint creaking sound that reminded her of the front porch door. Her father had told her and Teresa to wait outside while he looked for the ” God damn car keys”, she wasn’t sure what God damn meant but she knew her father used it when he was upset, and he had been upset as far back as she could remember. Teresa clung to her tattered doll, her teeth chattering as her soft, brown, curled bangs poked her in the eyes. “Where are we going?” she asked “Don’t ask questions, just do what daddy says” Meg snapped. Meg knew daddy had been drinking the stuff that smelled funny again, he called it his “whiskey”, she didn’t know much about it except that it had demons in the bottle which made daddy scary and angry. She had smelled it on his breath in the hospital where they left mommy and her brother. ” God damn it, I told you two to get in the car” daddy yelled from the doorway. Meg hurriedly ran over to Teresa to put her in the car, she wanted to get her and Teresa squished in the middle of the backseat to get their seat belt on before daddy came outside. The car smelled like stale cigarettes, beer, and that whiskey stuff and while Meg used to think the smell was gross she now found it comforting. The front porch screen door slamming rattled Meg out of her train of thought, daddy stumbling came across the gravel driveway talking softly to himself. “This goddamn car smells like shit” he barked Meg, now strapped in with Teresa right next to her focused on the keys carelessly dangling from the ignition. An old, faded green rabbits foot, a bottle opener and a coin with a hole in the top of it that said “one day at a time.” Meg loved that saying “one day at a time“, why do people think about things as tentative as forever? Jjust worry about today, today was a promise you can make, tomorrow not so much. Gary threw the old station wagon into gear and ripped out of the gravel driveway as fast as he could, was he was doing the right thing? The girls would be much better off with his mother rather than him and and Rachel, it was only temporary, until the baby got healthy, until he figured things out. “Daddy” Teresa’s small voice interrupted his thought “What” his voice sounded gruff and scary he didn’t even recognize it anymore, it was the kind of voice he had hated as a child, a voice that was an exact echo of his fathers. “Oh…well… Meg said that we umm, well we” “Stop talking” Gary barked “your voice is driving me crazy um, uh, um, just be quiet until we get there!” “Get where daddy?” Gary felt his blood start to boil, why did these kids, his kids piss him off so much? They were babies really, only 4 and 6 but he already felt himself wishing they would just grow the fuck up. He could tell Meg was nervous for her sister, he watched in the rear view as she put her pointer finger to her mouth and silently mouthed shhhh, Meg got it, she knew shit had to be taken “one day at a time.” It was only in the last few months that his and Rachel’s drinking had gotten the best of them and everything they had worked for went out the door. He could fix it though, if he could drop the girls off at his mothers while Rachel and the baby were still in the hopsital he could go down to the state rehab and detox, they took payments there and this time he would pay. Even if they had his past due bills on file, they would have to let him in now that he has 3 children, he needs this to happen it just has to. As daddy turned the corner Teresa’s eyes widened, she knew this house ,she had been here once before, the night the police had to take daddy away in those silver bracelets. she remembered the lady who lived here, the lady who had told her and Meg that she was daddy’s mommy and made them both warm biscuits with sweet red jelly,strawberry maybe. Meg also remembered the house and the woman who lived there, the woman she seen for the first and last time a year ago, the woman who asked that she call her “grandma.” As the car pulled up the dust from the road completely hid the house, it appeared like a shadowy stranger little by little shingle by shingle. The old white house stood alone on the barely traveled route 66, set back just a few inches from the road. The rusty, tattered mailbox sat in front tilted and bent with the words Hadden painted on the side in uneven, faded black paint. The fly strip across the porch waved like a flag and the front door was wide open allowing Meg a peek inside. “Get out” daddy barked, “hurry up and don’t forget your bag- its got your pajamas in it, Ill be right back.” Meg undid the seat belt and as soon as her foot hit the gravel daddy roared the engine, “Hurry up god damn it go, go, I said Ill be right back.” Meg standing in the driveway started to cry which of course in turn was Teresa’s cue to do the same, Gary threw the car in reverse, a lit cigarette dangling out of his mouth. “Daddy” Teresa yelled, “my dolly, daddy don’t leave me without my dolly!” It was too late, he was not listening, the girls watched sobbing as the red tail lights got smaller and smaller until finally they were only a memory. Meg realizing what had just happened fixed her gaze on the figure now standing in the doorway of the little white house.
It’s an easy theory to understand, if you get burned once you will most likely not repeat the action, if you do surely the result will be exactly the same….or will it? This theory is not only applied literally in the act of getting burned but metaphorically when it comes to love. Burned once scorned for an eternity, how I wish we could all fall in love like we did that first time without jaded eyes and wounded hearts. There is so much to overcome the second and third times around the healing hurts like hell, and the recovery is a demon to overcome. I was cut open and it seemed as if the bleeding would never stop, each drop spelling a letter in the name that has become synonymous with the construction of all my emotional walls. How I wish it was as easy as us going away somewhere where reality took a backseat, where honesty was inevitable and our emotional connection wasn’t judged or feared by not only others but us as well. It scares me to know how often I find you on my mind, it doesn’t make sense but it is a fact. Little else can bring a smile to my face as quickly and effortlessly as your words, your voice, any of you in any capacity. I feel like you not only listen but you hear, like you not only look but you see. No matter how much I try nothing changes, my mind still races, yours still questions . As much as I have tried to convince myself that I was far too broken to repair, that the damage had been too great, I know when I look at you that I am not as broken as I had thought. Ive realized that while my mind may have tried to throw the towel in my heart will simply not allow it. It was not broken but simply frozen for a moment and the warmth I have found in you has started to allow it to thaw out. My heart has been reached, my walls have started to become disassembled and I am diving head first at mach three speed toward the pavement. I cant fight it, the descent is imminent so I must try to enjoy the ride and pray that I don’t hit the pavement shivering and stunned. The fingerprints are still on my body, I cant shake the memory of being tangled in that embrace like two puzzle pieces looking for a home, ”Can you feel my scars?” , Can you see the ones across my chest where my heart is? They are all over my body like mile markers each bearing a different name and representing a different season. I want to thank you, I want to know…..Am I getting through?
