Sweet 16

The strangest feeling flowed over me the other evening. I am not quite sure how to describe it, but I am going to try.

You know those movies where a person either goes back in time, or somehow suddenly wakes up at a much younger age? I'm sure we've all hoped for moments like that from time to time. I, in fact, wish for it relentlessly. I know there's the whole "butterfly effect" to contend with, but I just miss the ease of yesterday... on a fairly regular basis.

Well, the other night it sort of happened. It was like stars were aligning in my favor for once, and as I drove home a smile started to spread across my face.

I had left the house alone and had a blast while I was out (I'll be doing this more often than not I think). Yes, I ran into some friends (George & Phil) that make me laugh... :

George: (holding the most disgusting drink I've ever sipped in my life) You really don't like it?
Me: You know what? I bet it would be better if it tasted good.
*insert laughter and a high five from Phil*

Throw in the fact that I had the good fortune of running into a friend, a guy, that I find ridiculously attractive... yet I feel dirty as hell for thinking it since he's about 16 years younger than me. (I know... I know... whatever, he's hot.) Yeah, my night was filled with silly moments, and crazy thoughts. I loved it.

Suddenly the promise of summer seemed like something to be excited about again. I had this odd giddy feeling of being 16, and not knowing yet that bad kissers existed; that an innocent night at the beach with a boy, by a fire, drinking bad beer...was just that, an innocent night. Suddenly a cute boy was nothing more than something to giggle about with your best friend, and the over thinking the situation part was non-existent. I had that "you make your own destiny" feeling again, and I liked it.

To make it all that more entertaining, the car ride home had the soundtrack of my youth blaring from the speakers. I have no idea what radio station it was since the digital read out has never worked in my car to begin with ... it's all a guessing game. Yet there I was, cruisin' along to music that seems to NEVER be played on the radio these days, like (among others) Level 42 (I can not even begin to tell you how much I used to love this song... and oddly enough, still kinda do to be honest.)


Level 42 - Something About You by jpdc11


The whole reason I had even gone out that night was to make myself tired. I had to be up at the butt crack of dawn for work. I'm currently working 3 jobs (Yes, THREE) this summer, and part of the "training" for one of them was taking place the following morning on the mainland, in New Bedford, MA.  I got a good laugh over the fact that I was being paid to spend the day in New Bedford, since it's not usually a place that most people would choose to spend their time. Oddly enough, my day was epic.

I had to take the fast ferry (which is one of my jobs this summer, selling tickets for it), and as I ran to catch it I watched one of the local buses (the VTA) clip a car and rip the car's front bumper clean off as I was boarding the boat (laughing). While I was cruisin' along at what felt like warp speed through the early morning fog, I sent a message to someone on facebook through my phone. I doubted he'd see the message in time, but I sent it nonetheless.

Hey. I'm on the fast ferry to New Bedford right now....and while I know this is totally last minute, and the chance of you even seeing/reading this before I have to hop on the 3:45p back to the island is slim to none... but... I just figured I'd let you know. I'll try to call if I ended up with any free time while there today. (I am going for work related stuff/training). If not today, some day soon, ok? ♥ G 

I arrived in New Bedford, met some of the people that work for the boat (& they are AWESOME!), and started in with my training. The idea was to get me accustomed to the phone system, the problem was no one called. Seriously, no one. We ended up just using our own cell phones to call, and then practiced transferring calls between the two phones sitting next to each other on the mile long desk.  I'll admit it though, it was pretty funny.

After about 2 hours I stepped outside to have a cigarette (I know, shut up!) and sent a text message to the person I had sent that facebook message to earlier... 30 min later he called me. My assumption that he was at work was WRONG; he had taken the day off and wanted to know if I was free in like 30 minutes. The two girls I was working with, in our empty terminal, both agreed that if I wanted to take off for an hour that it would be okay, as long as I was back in time for the next boat. Not only because I needed to be on that boat to get home, but because there would be actual customers and my training would be a bit more realistic than calling one desk phone from the other, or creating mock tickets in the computer system.

I left to go to the bathroom and as I walked back towards the office I noticed a customer standing there talking to one of the girls behind the glass window... then I saw her point at me and the customer turned around.... 

It was no customer... it was... oh you'll love this!.... him. Who is he? My ex boyfriend from when I was 16 years old. We hadn't seen each other since the end of summer 1988. A year or two back we reconnected through facebook (isn't that how everyone connects/reconnects these days?) and had sorta been promising to get together and hang out. Suddenly I had an hour of free time to do just that. 

We smiled, we hugged, and I had the startling realization that I did not actually grow 2" since I was 18... I grew 3". Holy shit! Yeah, I honestly remember him being much taller than me back then... now I tower over him. That was a weird moment. Truth be told, I'm pretty sure that was weird for both of us.

"Quasimodo", a 37-foot male humpback

We wandered into the city, and he pointed out some historical buildings as we chatted about this, that, and the other. An hour was just not enough time to spend with someone who you haven't seen in so long. At one point he had me go peek in the giant glass window of the Whaling Museum to check out the massive whale skeletons suspended from the ceiling. I'll be honest, it was totally bad ass. He asked me if I wanted to see more (I did), and brought me inside, he bought us both tickets (sooo not used to someone buying me anything, but it was super sweet of him), and then he proceeded to give me the funniest damn tour of anything I've ever been on.

"This is a picture of an old dude."

"Here's more paintings of old guys"

"This is harpooning stuff, and other old things"

"Here's what the old guys in the paintings used to do stuff with"

I was cracking up. I had forgotten just how unintentionally hysterical he was. Once the whirlwind tour of "all the old whaling stuff" was over, we went to a bar for a drink. Well, I was technically at work, so I lived on the edge and drank a Diet Coke® :) ... and I made it back exactly 1 hour after I had left. Just in time for the crazy crunch of customers that wait till the last damn minute to get their tickets. 

I got on board the ferry, heading for home, with a smile on my face. Such a strangely epic day really.... and it all started at 12:03am as I drove home feeling 16 again... and then had to train for a job, which I haven't had to do since I was about 16, since most jobs I've had since the age of 16 don't usually require "training" insomuch as plain ol' hands on experience... and then hung out with the boy I was bananas for at 16.... yeah, I liked that day. I liked it a lot... it was... well... in a word... sweet.

 

Guilt By Association: Part 1

Fall, 1988:

"Get up! You're going to be late!"

Alarm clock in hand, raised up towards her face, I groggily groaned at my Mother, "Look! I re-set it last night, I was going to get some sleep today.. the lady at CVS asked me if it could be rescheduled to 3... I'm going back to sleep!"

My Mother got all panicked for a second (I later found out that it was because they thought everything was going to go just as planned- which is funny, 'cause what does?-... but the switcheroo of my job interview screwed up their plans)...
"No! She called and said she wanted it to be at the original time."

I groaned, I rolled out of bed & started to walk to the nearest phone to call the woman to explain that I would be slightly late. My Mom, again, got all panicky.
"Where are you going?" she almost cried.
"Mom, chill. I'm just going to call her and tell her I'll be late, then hop in the shower."
"No!.. I already told her... just go get ready."
My mother was never this crazy normally... her voice was all quivery...it was odd, but it was still no indication of the bullshit that was about to ensue.

I took a shower and got dressed. I no longer recall what it was I wore that day, but I'm sure it was not only very 80's, but completely wrong for a job interview. Whatever, I was 16 years old and thought purple eyeshadow was amazing, so use your imagination... but if you need help:

this is actually me, the summer of 1988... I know... I rule, eh?

With my hair blown dry, teased well past the zenith, then sprayed with enough Aqua Net® that I do believe I may be partially, and personally, responsible for some of that ozone layer depletion; my make up so heavy that it looked like I motorboated my make up bag; my massive amounts of jewelry adorning me like the cheap and tacky armor it was... I wandered downstairs into the kitchen to get some breakfast.

I found my Dad & some random guy with a gross 70's 'stache in the dining room looking at the computer. I just figured he was either fixing something, or a business associate.
"Who's the porn star?" I asked my Mom pointing my thumb over my shoulder.
"Stop it! That's a business associate of your fathers" she said in one of those angry whispers that can only be perfected by motherhood.
"Whatever, still looks like a porn star with that 'stache"

 I grabbed an apple out of the fruit bowl and a pre-wrapped portion of string cheese and asked my Mom for the keys to the car so I could get to town. She froze. In retrospect, my Mother was acting so freaky I don't know how I didn't know something was up. She tells me that the guy with my Dad, this "business associate," was leaving on the next train and they had to give him a ride, so we'd all go together. I was mildly irritated, because it meant I couldn't go anywhere after the interview, they'd be waiting. I shrugged and said "ok, let's go."

When we got into the car my mother was sitting in the back seat with me. This NEVER happens, my father is the über gentleman and always insists that the woman rides in front... so that was odd to me, but I just figured the porn star in the front seat was outta there soon, it didn't matter. We got to the end of the road, the car went right. The train station & my job interview were to the left...in the opposite direction.

"Dad, wrong way" I laughed.

*click*

The safety locks go on, and all the doors in the car were controlled by the driver.

*click*

The window locks were on, and couldn't be controlled from the back seat anymore

"What the fuck is going on?" I say.

"Honey, don't use that language" my mother pleaded.

"Fuck you, you just locked me in a car going in the opposite direction of where we were supposed to be going, with a big goon that looks like a porn star in the front seat.. and you want me to watch my language? Fuck that."

At that moment porn goon had leaned back through the front seats, puts his hands atop mine and tried to hold me in place. I looked at him, laughed, and told him "don't fucking touch me, creep"  as I picked up my right leg (I was sitting behind my Father) and kicked him... I was aiming for his face, but only managed to get him in the shoulder. I've never been one to allow someone to place their hands on me without consent. Not to say it never happened before, but because it had, I reacted. I started to jab at the window with my elbows, trying to break it. My Mother freaked out and grabbed my hands, I freed one and started (I'll never forget this as long as I live...) to whack the piss out of her hands and arms with my one free arm that happened to be covered in metal bracelets almost to the elbow.

clink... clink... kuthud....clink....clink... kuthud...….  rapidly and repeatedly until she let go.

I'm still not only shocked I ever lay a hand on her, but that I didn't break her wrists or hands.

Once she let go I just kept pounding on the window with my fists and bracelets..... swearing up a storm, wanting to get the fuck out of that car no matter what. I didn't care if I had to jump out the window on the highway... I think I would have, no, I know I would have. There is nothing more in this world I hate than the feeling of being trapped.

Damn windows.

If I had been able to get a better angle I would have kicked the windows out... but porn goon and my Mother kept grabbing at me. Finally I just stopped, I mean totally stopped. Something came over me, and I had a strange moment of clarity. Eyes straight ahead, breathing calm, sitting straight ... and I turned to my Mother and said in a very relaxed manner "where are you taking me, and why is he here?" (*pointing at porn goon*) I, years later, learned that he was a hired thug to supposedly "help" them kidnap me and take me to hell.

This would be "The Mansion"

I don't remember anything after that moment right up until we pulled through the gates of hell in West Stockbridge, MA. We parked directly in front of the mansion by the front door. I refused to get out of the car. My parents went inside. Porn goon stood on the steps and stared at me as I watched a bunch of preppy lookin' kids wandering around. A group of girls walked by, all of them holding hands with each other. An older person (no idea who) stopped them and said something to the person that was apparently in charge (I eventually learned that her name was Kelly (no memory of her last name) and she was a dorm parent (DP) for "New Girls" (yes, that was the name of one of the "dorms") in fall of 1988). A few girls came over to the car, opened the door and said "are you coming out?"

"No, I'm staying right here" I said, and closed the door on them.

Becky K. & Lara M. are the only faces with names that I remember from that moment in time.

About fifteen or so minutes later the door opens again, this time it's Joanna H. & some girl named Judy (I don't remember her last name, but she ran away with Brian B. about a month later), Joanna says "Hi" then just as she's about to speak again my parents walk out of "the mansion" (it had been about 45 min. at this point).... my Mother walks over to the side of the car where I am and my father pops the trunk. She says "honey, you have to get out of the car."

"The fuck I do" I tell her

Massive amounts of giggles erupt from the 10 or so girls that I hadn't noticed before on the other side of the car...they were still holding hands. It was surreal. I thought they were going to break into song like some strange scene from Whoville, only the car was the Xmas tree and the Grinch was someone I had yet to meet.... but someone was clearly stealing my Christmas.

My father dropped a small duffle bag at the door of the car and told me to "get out."

I looked at his face and realized there was no way that car was leaving with me in it, so I considered bookin' it for the gate. I judged the distance, kicked off the heels I had on, and took a good long look at my Mother's face. As I turned to prepare to take off for the main road all the girls were suddenly standing there behind Joanna & my Mother. Now it looked like a game of "Red Rover"... and I didn't know if I'd make it through. I stood up finally, and there was a collective gasp (height pays off once in a while) ...

"How long?" I asked my Mother

"That remains to......" my Father started

"Shut up, I was talking to her, " I said, pointing at my Mother.

"You will not speak to me like that young lady!" my father shouted.

"You're right, I just won't speak to you at all, asshole"...... and for a full year, I didn't. I only spoke to my Mother on the phone. I tore up every letter my father wrote, unread.

"Why?" I asked my Mother as I stood .... and began to walk away with tears in my eyes.

She had no answer. It took over 19 years for an answer.... and in the end it was because they were worried I'd end up like the people I was hanging out with. Great. Awesome. ....... Dumbasses! I had never once acted as angry & violent as I did that day in the car, I would have NEVER laid a hand on my Mother... and I sure as shit never talked to them the way I did that day. In retrospect it probably made it easier for them to leave me there because I had done all that..... but can you blame me?

What happened next, and up through January 1990, is what will soon follow in a series of posts that tell the story, as well as the story of others that went there since this wouldn't be worth telling without them.