When did her distrust of men begin? She tries to remember, but it's something she can't grasp onto.
As a small child, she was terrified of male photographers. Would refuse to have her picture taken by them and cry if it was a forced issue. She remembers being afraid of Toby's father. His beard and the smell of beer are her clearest memories of him. There is nothing particularly scary that she can remember. After all, the memories she struggles to recall are of a four year old.
There is no one instance that stands out. Was it the dentist that held her down and let her scream through a procedure? Was it something that happened before memories formed? Was it an ingrained fear she was born with, some elemental or otherworldly thing?
She simply doesn't know.
She does know that it even extended to her own father and grandfather. Maybe it was part of what made him so angry. She questioned everything he did, from the beginning. Why did the training wheels not touch the ground at the same time? Why did she have to stay home with him? As she got older, why did he have to come on the Girl Scout camping trips? Surely her questions led to frustration. The Girl remembers being punished.
One instance - a small event. It shouldn't be a blip on her radar. She remembers the night vividly, and it seems it was just a bit of what was to come.
A father daughter dance was scheduled by her Scout troop. She was eight years old. It was a luau theme. She wore a flowered short set, her father a yellow tank top and jeans with belt. She still had the waves of her failed perm. There was supposed to be dancing, but she refused. His touch, even friendly, was uncomfortable. There was a photo op there. It had a beach background, a lawn chair and different floats to set the scene. When she reflects on the photo, long destroyed, she sees the way she held herself. Rigid, apart. The photographer - a woman - wanted her to move closer to her father. She moved marginally. Closer still - she moved a fraction more. The Girl impulsively lay her head on her father's shoulder. It should have been a natural move, but even as the photographer smiled and praised her, The Girl jerked her head back up. Her father put his arm around her, but she holds her self still. Her hands were clenched, squeezing her thumbs. Her heart pounded and she felt trapped. Like a rabbit in a field spotted by a predator. She forced a small smile and it was over.
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Monday, July 8, 2013
As Six Turned To Seven
The next year flows in her memory, nothing concrete. There are images, snapshots. She remembers nap time in Kindergarten. Her favorite place to lay her mat was in the block center. Students earned prizes for sleeping - and she was convinced that one day, she'd get a gold fish. The only memory The Girl has of getting a prize was a pumpkin shaped eraser. She remembers getting a "Just Say No" t-shirt - green, white writing. The class had their picture taken.
Toby was a year ahead of her in school, because of her late birthday. She thought it was fun that she had the same teacher for Kindergarten as he had had. The Girl got the same teacher he had for First Grade as well.
Summer must have melted by, in the way that Southern summers do. Hot, muggy, full of mosquitos and splinters in her feet. Perhaps they visited her grandparents an hour away. She remembers going to swimming lessons, and that her brother was in his car seat. That must have been the same summer.
First Grade dawned much the same. Memories are spotty and hazy. Incubating chicken eggs in class. Candling the eggs with a projector, and watching them hatch. Kids were invited to take them home, and The Girl wanted to so badly. It wasn't to be. Sometime that fall, her father moved a state away. There were better job offers, and it was near his family. She doesn't remember him leaving, nor does she really remember him being gone. It is simply a fact she knows.
The Girl can barely recall the move that set the ball in motion. She remembers arriving at her grandparents home, with the woman it was insisted she refer to her as Grandmother. There was a sterile white living room with a wall of mirrors and a warm wooden kitchen that holds faint but friendly memories. Eating sausage biscuits at the counter, sitting on a green and chrome barstool. Listening to the train in the distance. The Girl remembers the yard with wild strawberries and fat, bumbling bees. An old swingset that was her father's, aunt's and uncle's.
She started First Grade in her new school. She met a few friends, though Kelly and Amber stand out. With Amber, she had first sleep over. Kelly was her closest friend for many years. To her, life was simply life. A nice, safe school. Friends. Love.
In Second Grade, she remained great friends with Kelly. They were in the same class. She remembers trying to cheat on spelling tests, and listening to stories. She can recall being desperate for a perm -- only for it to fall out in hours, leaving her with waves instead of spiral. Her hair was a source of joy; long, thick and brown. There were sleepovers, and school nights at the skating rink.
Between these vaguely happy memories though, was when it began.
Toby was a year ahead of her in school, because of her late birthday. She thought it was fun that she had the same teacher for Kindergarten as he had had. The Girl got the same teacher he had for First Grade as well.
Summer must have melted by, in the way that Southern summers do. Hot, muggy, full of mosquitos and splinters in her feet. Perhaps they visited her grandparents an hour away. She remembers going to swimming lessons, and that her brother was in his car seat. That must have been the same summer.
First Grade dawned much the same. Memories are spotty and hazy. Incubating chicken eggs in class. Candling the eggs with a projector, and watching them hatch. Kids were invited to take them home, and The Girl wanted to so badly. It wasn't to be. Sometime that fall, her father moved a state away. There were better job offers, and it was near his family. She doesn't remember him leaving, nor does she really remember him being gone. It is simply a fact she knows.
The Girl can barely recall the move that set the ball in motion. She remembers arriving at her grandparents home, with the woman it was insisted she refer to her as Grandmother. There was a sterile white living room with a wall of mirrors and a warm wooden kitchen that holds faint but friendly memories. Eating sausage biscuits at the counter, sitting on a green and chrome barstool. Listening to the train in the distance. The Girl remembers the yard with wild strawberries and fat, bumbling bees. An old swingset that was her father's, aunt's and uncle's.
She started First Grade in her new school. She met a few friends, though Kelly and Amber stand out. With Amber, she had first sleep over. Kelly was her closest friend for many years. To her, life was simply life. A nice, safe school. Friends. Love.
In Second Grade, she remained great friends with Kelly. They were in the same class. She remembers trying to cheat on spelling tests, and listening to stories. She can recall being desperate for a perm -- only for it to fall out in hours, leaving her with waves instead of spiral. Her hair was a source of joy; long, thick and brown. There were sleepovers, and school nights at the skating rink.
Between these vaguely happy memories though, was when it began.
Sunday, July 7, 2013
It Started At Six
At six, she had two years of preschool under her belt and was nearly half way through Kindergarten. Her family was poor, but clearly she had no concept of that. She had a roof over her head - even if it was in a trailer park - and food in her belly.
Her "neighborhood" was small. Her closest friend was a boy called Toby. They had known each other since babyhood. They spent days running around barefoot, wild and free. They lived near the woods, and also near a beach. Toby's extended family lived there was well. She and Toby spent time at his uncle's house and his grandparents house. The Girl was enamored with a spiral staircase that led to a loft bedroom.
Life was pretty simple, as you can imagine. Their families were typical for the area. Their fathers hunted and went shrimping. There was four wheeling through the woods, smelling the wildflowers. Ducks in the neighborhood pond. They went to watch neighbors go mud boggin'. They swam at a small beach, and ate penny candy from a local gas station. Both loved Big League Chew(ing gum) and candy cigarettes. He managed to trick her every few months by telling her he had four bucks. Each time, he pointed out the stuffed and mounted deer heads in his family room. It was an innocent time.
During the year she started Kindergarten, her mother was surprised to find herself pregnant. While The Girl doesn't remember being told that a baby was on the way, she does have vague memories of picking out a going home outfit for what would be her brother. Exchanging her role as an only child to that of older sibling was somewhat a rough transition. Her father was more concerned with the fact that he now had a SON, and showed less love and attention to The Girl. It wasn't noticeable in the beginning, but it's all so clear now.
This marked the beginning of a change in Her life. Such a big moment for the adults, followed by such small changes sparked something so big. Her story really begins here, and it turns dark just as quickly as it began.
Her "neighborhood" was small. Her closest friend was a boy called Toby. They had known each other since babyhood. They spent days running around barefoot, wild and free. They lived near the woods, and also near a beach. Toby's extended family lived there was well. She and Toby spent time at his uncle's house and his grandparents house. The Girl was enamored with a spiral staircase that led to a loft bedroom.
Life was pretty simple, as you can imagine. Their families were typical for the area. Their fathers hunted and went shrimping. There was four wheeling through the woods, smelling the wildflowers. Ducks in the neighborhood pond. They went to watch neighbors go mud boggin'. They swam at a small beach, and ate penny candy from a local gas station. Both loved Big League Chew(ing gum) and candy cigarettes. He managed to trick her every few months by telling her he had four bucks. Each time, he pointed out the stuffed and mounted deer heads in his family room. It was an innocent time.
During the year she started Kindergarten, her mother was surprised to find herself pregnant. While The Girl doesn't remember being told that a baby was on the way, she does have vague memories of picking out a going home outfit for what would be her brother. Exchanging her role as an only child to that of older sibling was somewhat a rough transition. Her father was more concerned with the fact that he now had a SON, and showed less love and attention to The Girl. It wasn't noticeable in the beginning, but it's all so clear now.
This marked the beginning of a change in Her life. Such a big moment for the adults, followed by such small changes sparked something so big. Her story really begins here, and it turns dark just as quickly as it began.
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