Legally Kidnapped (Ch. 36)

I was sitting in class one day when I was called to the school office.  Hot fear ran through my body.  I thought I must be getting in trouble, which meant there would be a note sent home, which would mean I'd have to face Auntie Elizabeth.  My auntie wasn't someone you wanted to upset.  The entire way to the office I thought of every possible thing I might be in trouble for, and how I could get out of it.  When I got there my palms were sweating.  The principal was waiting for me.


She asked me to have a seat.  I sat.  "Honey, there are some people here that are saying that you are a runaway.  Your mother is here with her lawyer and a detective."  I couldn't process what she said.  At first I was flooded with adrenalin and looked around me frantically for an escape, then I realized there was no way my mother had a lawyer.  It must be a mistake!..wrong girl.  Thank God!  I thought.  I shook my head no and told her that I lived with my auntie and uncle and my dad was dead. 

She pursed her lips together and gave me a questioning look.  I was afraid that if she didn't believe me she might take me away and put me in some kind of foster care.  I started talking fast.  "My mom does drugs, my auntie and uncle are taking care of me.  I'm their niece... my dad is from here, but he died..... and now I live here too... and my mom doesn't care."- Then there was a loud Bang Bang Bang on her door.  "Police, open the door!"  My principal went immediately and unlocked the door, and as soon as she clicked over the lock the door flung open.  It was Bill.


I screamed, "That's not a police man!  That's not a police man!"  Then the principal jumped in between me and Bill and pushed him toward the door way.  She got him out of the room and then tried to shut the door, but he prevented her by shoving his body weight on her.  People were yelling on the other side of the door and Bill finally backed off and the door was shut.  As soon as the door closed I sat down... because I felt like my legs might fall out from under me.  He found me...


The real cops were called and after speaking with my uncle who assured me I was coming home, I was taken to the police department.  I sat at the police department for hours.  Something wasn't right.  Where was my auntie and uncle?  I finally got the courage to ask what was happening when my mother walked in.  She looked smug.  I couldn't believe my eyes. 

My shock was soon replaced with outrage.  "What are you doing?!  Leave me alone!"  She tried to put her arms around.  She put her hand over her heart when I backed away from her.  She looked at the officers around her making sure they were appreciating all the concerned looks she was faking.  "I'm your mom, you are coming home."  I backed father away and started crying.


My aunt and uncle didn't legally adopt me.  We all had the same last name and getting me enrolled in school wasn't a problem.  On the reservation there is no law saying I belong to anyone, but in the city and at my school I legally belonged to my mother.  I called my aunt and uncle and after another hour of conversations between the police and my mother I was loaded into the back of a police car.  My mother was going to allow me to get my things and say good bye to everyone.


The police had no jurisdiction on our land so my aunt, uncle and cousins met me at the reservation border.  When we pulled up everyone was out of the car holding balloons and presents.  It was my birthday.  My aunt was holding a plate with a piece of foil over it.  I broke free of my mother's hold and ran to her.  She gave me a hug and said, "Happy birthday..."  She looked down and shook her head in what looked like defeat.  "I packed up some of your cake for you...here take it."  Then she started to cry.  She's going to let them take me.... NO!  I ran to my uncle,  "Please!  Don't make me go.. Please!"  I'll be good.  I'm sorry... I'm sorry!  Please... "  My body racked up and down with my sobs.

My uncle picked me up and said in a low voice so only I could hear, "You have to go now, but we will get you back,....don't worry Cucuyatramatz."  He hugged me tight.  I hugged him back and over his shoulder I saw my mother sitting in the passenger seat of Bill's car.  Bill was driving.

A Drunk, Tap Dancing Indian Girl (Ch. 35)

Being a brown noser didn't fair well with my cousins and I spent most of my time in the garage practicing my tap dancing.  The garage was used to make deer jerky and drums.  Lines were stretched from wall to wall where salted meat was hung to dry and hides were laid flat everywhere with dried blood and stray pieces of fur still attached.  I would practice for hours, getting my moves just right, occasionally getting slapped in the face with a piece of carnage.  My cousins teased me.  I guess they never heard of a tap dancing Indian girl before.  "Where are your tappy shoes at?  You won't show us how you tappy dance! Hahaha" 


My cousins offered to "smoke me up" several times and I wanted NOTHING to do with it.  I didn't want to do drugs like my mother.  I didn’t know what kinds of drugs she did. I was terrified of becoming like her. What I wanted to do was drink.  We had a lot of celebrations on the reservation, dances, feasts and ceremonies.  Each occasion was a reason for everyone to get drunk  The term "Fire Water" is no joke. There is no such thing as alcoholism on a reservation.  There are no police to pull you over and give you a DUI.  It's not abnormal to see Uncle Pato driving down the road going 3 miles an hour, missing the turn and heading off into the never ending desert.


We handle things our own way when we need to though.  Sometimes it means running after Uncle Pato's car and turning the engine off and sometimes it means more than that.  We don't have jails or legal consequences like you do in the cities, (although in some cases we will call them in) we handle things in our own way.   Our way seems to work, we have no crime. We just have a bunch of wild kids who party too much and get away with too much. 


I loved to get good and drunk and play with my tappy shoes.  All those spaces I made to hide my ugly memories inside of me felt filled up.  I drowned my memories in a sea of Budweiser and jazz hands.  Life was much improved.


I loved all the celebrations on the reservation and not just because I could get drunk.  The celebrations all seemed to be about dancing and food.  We had dances for everything; dances for corn, buffalo, rain and even saints.  After each dance a huge feast would be prepared.  The entire tribe pulled together and we all went eating from house to house and then taking our own turn to feed others. 

It gave you an incredible sense of belonging.  I belonged here.  I made bread for others, and I ate bread that others made for me.  I felt it in my blood.  I am Cucuyatramatz.  This is my home.  Nothing felt foreign to me.  Some of the ceremonies were a bit frightening and involved the cleansing of "bad spirits" or "river men" that had sharp pointy teeth.  I was afraid, but also very comforted.  There is something very comforting about knowing exactly where you came from and having your beliefs boldly exemplified before your eyes.  My father was from here, I was born here, and this is where I'm supposed to be.    I am a 13 year old Indian girl.... a drunk, tap dancing Indian girl.

The Reservation (Ch. 34)

My Uncle Dave and Aunt Elizabeth picked me up from the airport.  The reservation was just as I remembered it.  Beautiful.  I had no real memory of ever living there before, only a lingering feeling of familiarity... It felt like I was remembering a past life, not my own.  The house they lived in was a newer home designed to look like a pueblo on the outside.  The house was surrounded by dirt and a scattering of fences made out of tree limbs.  In the yard was a mini van, a beat up truck with no bumper, a brand new civic, and an old, green, Volks Wagon van that was called the Pickle.  It looked like a scrap yard.  There was also a trampoline, a shed, and an outside Indian oven in the back. 

The inside of the house was decorated with drums my uncle had made and parts of costumes used in ceremonies.  There was a colorful Indian blanket nailed to the wall and a painting of a buffalo.  It was nice.  I was lead into a room with a bunk bed and N-Sync and Usher posters all over the walls.  I would be sharing a room with my cousin.  She took the bottom bunk because she said the top bunk was for little kids.  She was younger than I and put on a show to appear older than she was.  I resented it.  Years of childhood had been stolen from me... and she just wanted to give hers up.


Right after I arrived at my uncle's house I was told someone wanted to see me.  It was a surprise.  I didn't know if I should feel excited or scared.  I felt both.  We pulled up outside of an old trailer and when I walked in the door I heard, "Cucuyatramatz!"  It was Uncle Steve!  I ran to him, threw my arms around him and cried. It felt so safe to cry in front of someone I knew that loved me.  I couldn't cry with my Uncle Dave or Aunt Elizabeth... I didn't know them well enough and I still felt too responsible for my own well being to let down my guard.   I lost my mother, Fred, Bird-Bird, and Crystal, but I did not lose Uncle Steve.  Just the relief of knowing that I still had him was enough to make me sob.

I was enrolled in a public school in the nearest city to the reservation and had a little bit of a shock when I found out I had to wake up at 4AM and get to the bus stop at 4:45 in the morning. The bus ride to school took almost two and a half hours.  My classmates were all Native Americans or Hispanics.  There were maybe 6 white kids and 2 black kids in my entire school.  Most of our teachers were white too.  Because I was Native, I was accepted immediately.  I belonged.  Native Pride was strong!  Our people stuck together.  All of the kids that spoke our Native tongue would purposely talk around the teachers to irritate them.  They wanted to show them that they were outsiders, no matter if they had authority or not.  The school was ours.  I learned the language quickly.

I took up my role as my aunt and uncle's new daughter.  I liked that I had to do chores and help make dinner like the others kids.  I craved their love.  If I wasn't sucking up to my aunt and uncle, I was over at Uncle Steve's trailer.  I had brought my tap dancing shoes that I had saved from the time Larry had me in dance classes.  I wanted to show Uncle Steve what I could do.  I tap danced in his kitchen and covered the floor in black scuffmarks.  He smiled and hooted and yelled for an encore.  He loves me... I thought.  I'm going to make them all love me.

The Escape (Ch. 33)

Bill was having problems with my school.  They wouldn't let him pick me up from school if I was ill, or take me out early if we were going out of town.  To solve this problem Bill tried to legally emancipate me from my mother.  When this wouldn't work he suggested something else.  "Well baby girl, I think that we might have to go down to Mexico and get married!"  I don't even think it would have been legal here in the states, but I had no idea about things like that then. 

I stood with my back towards him and my breath caught.  I could feel my eyes growing into large unbelieving saucers.  I didn't respond for a few seconds... and decided the only thing I could do was act like it was funny... I was too scared to do anything else.  "Ha ha ha!"  He shrugged his shoulders and said, "well, I'll think about it, but I think it's what we might have to end up doing."


Later in the week Bill started planning a trip to Mexico.  I knew then, that what I had at Bill's was going to end.  When Bill left one night on another gambling trip I dug out my mom's old address book and tried to find someone to call.  I had a hard time reading the numbers because I couldn't see through all my tears.  I hate him!  I sobbed and ran around my room throwing everything off my dresser and destroying what ever I could.  Crystal... I would lose her.  I fell down to my knees and let helpless tears fall down my cheeks. 

After I collected myself, I went into self preservation-mode.  I closed off my emotions and dialed all the numbers in the phone book one by one.  The first few numbers just rang and rang and then I got some that were disconnected.  When I got to Fred's number I crossed my fingers and dialed... It was disconnected too.  No No No!  I was angry!  I smashed the phone into the floor and gritted my teeth.  Then I realized I better not break it... I still had to find my mother.  She was the only one I had... and this was a very depressing thought.  As much as I tried to not to feel... the tears wouldn't stop coming. 


I dialed again, please, please pick up.... "Hello?..."  Thank God!  "Hi, I'm looking for my mom, Susan?  Have you heard from her?"  The man on the phone said he had!  But she wasn't there right now.  I gave him my number and waited for her to return my call.  I waited a painful hour with no call back from her.  Then I called again.  She was the one who answered the phone.  I wanted to cry as soon as I heard her voice.  I didn't even know what to say... "Mom?... "  She sounded excited to hear from me.  She went on and on about where she was living and what she was doing, trying to impress me.  She didn't even ask how I was.  "Oh!   And I almost forgot to tell you!  I talked to Uncle Steve and he said that your Aunt Sheila wants to talk to you and I have her number.. I'm supposed to give it to you...... well..... Do you want it?"


She had said everything so fast that the words were almost over lapping one another.  She was high... really high on drugs.  I stared at the wall in front of me and wiped my snot from my nose with the back of my hand.  I couldn't tell her what I called to tell her... All the urgency I felt while dialing the numbers left me then.  There was no one in my mother's phone book that could help me.  She couldn't help me.  Fear grew in my gut.  "Yes... What is the number?"


I called my Aunt.  She asked me a lot of questions.  I gave her the real answers.. the answers I hoped would move her to do something.  "Who are you living with?" 

"A man named Bill..."

"Who is Bill?"

"Some man my mom left me with."

"Where is your mom?"

"I don't know, she's been gone for a year."  Then I started to cry.  I could hear her on the other line getting worked up and talking to herself.  "This isn't right... No.  You need to come home now... We will come get you, you belong to us, we are your family, not some white man your mom decided to just leave you with!"  She was getting upset.  She told me to pack a small bag and she would call me back in 30 minutes.  She called me back in 20.  She told me she wanted me to get on a plane that night and fly back to the reservation.  She asked to talk to one of my friend's mom.  I was shaking.  Everything was happening so fast.  I couldn't imagine what Crystal would say or think when I dialed her number.  "Crys? Something bad is happening."  I was crying.  "It's not OK for me to stay at Bills and my aunt wants me to go live with her."  Crystal was stunned.  "OK....... wait, what?"

"Can you please have your mom call my aunt?  She wants to talk to an adult." 


30 minutes later Crystal's mom had pulled into the drive way and I put my suitcase in the trunk and locked up Bill's house.  One of my uncles worked for an airline and she called him and he put me on the next plane.  The flight left at 5 AM.  We left for the airport at 2AM.  Crystal and me were in the back seat together holding one another.  We didn't talk, we didn't cry.  We just sat there... together.

When we got to the gate I looked at my best friend and hugged her fiercely.  I let myself cry then.  I was terrified and shaking.  Last week I was toilet papering the neighbor's yard... and now I was running away to live with relatives I barely knew on an Indian reservation I knew nothing about.  All I knew was that it had to be better than the horrifying future I saw with marrying Bill.  "Please don't forget about me Crys."  She shook her head violently back and forth.  "Never!... friends forever right?...."  She cried.  I smiled with tears streaming down my face and neck.  "Forever."  Then I turned around and boarded the plane.  When I stowed my bag and buckled myself in I let out a big long breath.... a breath I had been holding for half a dozen years.

Best Friends Forever (Ch. 32)

Months after that first drink of alcohol Crystal moved in.  Things weren't good for her at home and Bill was more than happy to take her in.  We shared the twin bed in my room.  Bill was often gone on gambling trips and we were left to do as we pleased.  After she moved in the prank wars started.  The food fights got severe and the walls in the living room were stained with mustard and other condiments.  Our seances got more sophisticated and for a time we even practiced Wicca and did love spells on the boys at school.

 One night I was watching TV when at around midnight I heard a knock on the window behind me.  I froze in terror.  My eyes got wide and I stayed as still as I could (T-Rex logic.)  Then there was another knock on the window opposite from where I was sitting!  Then another knock on the window diagonal from that!  They started banging and banging louder and faster.  I ran to hide in the shower and just about peed my pants.  I was on the phone with the cops when crystal busted through the door laughing...

A couple weeks later I tied her up in the hammock outside in 40-degree weather. I soaked her with the hose for about 30 minutes and then left her out there.  Her teeth were chattering and I could barely understand her when she said she was cold.  I went in and brought out a blanket.  Then I wet the blanket nice and good and put it over her, "warmer now?..."  We loved each other.

 

My bad secret with Bill never surfaced and it was like everything that happened was over.  Crystal had saved me.  We turned 13 and started getting invited to parties, or Crystal started getting invited to parties and I just came along for the ride... One night we were out in the desert tailgating with a bunch of older guys from another high school.  I was drinking vodka and when Crystal said she had to leave because she was supposed to spend the night at her mom's that night, I told her I was staying.  She was hesitant about leaving me there, but she asked her boyfriend to watch me like a protective mother hen and kissed me on the cheek and left anyway.

I woke up in the hospital and by my side was Crystal.  She was holding my hand, crying and singing to me at the same time.  I had passed out and started foaming at the mouth when Crystal's boyfriend freaked and dropped me off at her mom's house.  I was unresponsive and turning blue so they called for an ambulance. 

After the alcohol poisoning Crystal's mom made her move out.  She even refused to drive us to see each other because she said I was a bad influence.  So we spent that summer riding bikes with flat tires to meet in the middle of our houses and pass notes.  We would sneak out at night and lay out on the roof of Bill's house looking at the stars.  "Best friends forever... Chris and Crys always!"  We loved each other so much it made us cry.  We collected our tears on pieces of paper and added them to our scrapbooks.  For the first time in my life that I could really remember, I felt like I had someone I could count on.  She would always be there for me.  I knew it in my soul.  She was my sister.  She was my kindred spirit.

A Steep Price To Pay (Ch. 31)

I knew that there would be a price to pay to live at Bills; I just had no idea how steep it would be.  I knew the way my world worked, and I accepted it.  I lived two lives at Bills; one I spent acting like a 12 year old little girl, and the other I spent with a chair wedged under the door handle to my room, in case Bill tried to visit me in the night.


My life was a balancing act.  I had to make sure Bill loved me, but not too much...  I walked a fine line between childhood and adulthood.  If I crossed over too far into one or the other things got dangerous for me.  If I was too childish I was afraid I would annoy him and he would turn me out.  If I was too adult like, I was afraid he might rape me...


That year passed by quickly.  Crystal spent almost everyday at my house and we made memories to last a lifetime.  We went toilet papering around the neighborhood, we had seances, went out with boys, had food fights, and fought like sisters.  It was a happy time.  We made promises to each other about the future.  Crystal had lived a hard life also and she didn't come from a place much better than mine.  We knew we didn't to want grow up to be like our mothers.  We knew one day we would have houses and husbands and careers and we vowed to be apart of each other's lives forever.  I shared almost everything with Crystal, everything but my ugly secret about Bill.


Bill use to like to dress me up and we'd have photo shoots.  He would have me do a catwalk down the living room and would snap the camera away.  He'd tell me I was sexy and call me "baby".  "Ohh Baby!  Ohh Baby!"  I liked feeling beautiful.  Bill would laugh and tell me I was a natural.  I liked being good at something.  If he tried to touch me, even just one little caress on my arm, I'd shy away.  I kept him always at an arms distance.  I knew what he wanted, and I wanted to keep him wanting it.  His "want" was the only thing keeping a roof over my head and I knew it.


Life had made me incredibly bright and resourceful for a 12 year old and like my mother, I was a skilled manipulator.  Not quite as skilled as Bill though.  I got so lost in the way my world worked, that it became normal for me.  I felt a sort of closeness to Bill.  We both shared this dysfunctional life together... and so far he hadn't touched me. 


One night Bill and I had gotten drunk on gin together.  It was my first time drinking liquor.  He kept refilling every glass I finished.  Once I had my first sip, I couldn't get enough!  The more alcohol I filled in myself, the emptier I felt.  All the things I held inside of me felt weightless and they drifted away...  That first drink clicked on a switch inside of me.  It was the same switch that made my mother a drug addict and the same switch that would one day lead me to the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous.


When I woke up the next morning, I was lying on the sofa and my pants were undone and down near my thighs.  The area between my legs was sore.  I felt sicker than I had ever felt in my entire life and I was sure I was dying.  When I sat up the entire room started spinning.  With the spinning room, memories started coming to me from the night before.  Little still frames of images of what happened popped into my minds eye.  "No no no no", I whimpered. 

I made my way to my room and lay down on the cold wood floor near the door.  I fell apart.  I cried like a baby.  I cried for what had happened to me, and because I didn't know what to do next. I cried because I was alone and had no one to go to.  But mostly I cried because I was ashamed.  I got out my mother's old phone book and started dialing feverishly.  Fred's number was out of order; all the numbers were out of order!  I found one number that worked and I let it ring and ring.  I called it back 20, 50, 100 times and let it ring on and on.  I cried and hugged the phone and begged for someone to answer the phone!  No one answered. 


I heard Bill's car pull up the driveway and I froze.  I ran and grabbed my desk chair to shove under the door handle.  Then I sat silent...waiting for him.  I felt pure terror!  He came to my door, knocking gently.  "Are you OK baby?  I know you must be feeling bad.  We both got a little out of hand last night and drank too much!  I can't remember a damn thing!  Can you?"  He was giving me a choice.  I could pretend not to remember.  I thought about it for a couple seconds and realized it was my only option.  What else can I do?...  I have nowhere to go.  I spoke in the voice of a young child, hoping to remind him that I was only 12 years old.  "I have no idea what happened!  And I'm never drinking again!"  Bill laughed, deep and throaty.  He told me to come out when I was feeling better and we'd go get some food.


I dried my tears and shoved my newest ugly secret deep deep inside of me.  I didn't tell Crystal or anyone else.  I couldn't.  I felt partly responsible.  I was bad.  I would pretend that I wasn't bad, I would pretend that Bill wasn't bad.... and if I did this, I could stay.  I could stay and still have Crystal and my room and my school and my sleepovers. 

Abandoned (Ch. 30)

Staying with Doug in the mountains was a temporary thing, as were most of the places we stayed.  I was tired of living out of a suitcase.  We were now receiving checks from social security from my dad's death.  It wasn't much, but it was something to work with.   I started making calls.  I knew Fred was a no go and decided the safest person for me to call next was Larry.  "I get $300 a month Larry, and I can pay for you to come and get us and let us stay at that house you had."  Larry told me that he didn't think that was a good idea because of what had happened between him and my mother.  I tried to convince him otherwise.  He told me he was sorry.

I went on to the next number.  I had the number for a man named Bill who my mother and I had met through Larry when we lived in the Valley.  He was a gambler and Larry introduced us to him on a trip we took to a casino one time.  He gave my mother his card and with a wink said if she ever needed anything to call him.  I knew what card I had to play and I played it.  I made my mother call him.  "Tell him you broke up with Larry and want to see him."  My mother rolled her eyes at me and then she threw her head back and laughed.   I kept my face emotionless.  This was not a joke to me...  I wanted to shove the phone in her face and press it in till her head caved in.  "Call him." 

She did call him, and soon we were on our way back to the Valley.  He agreed to rent us a room in his house for $300 a month.  He was not as well off as Larry and his gambling was part of the reason.  He lived in a one-story house with more than half of it closed off due to water damage.  The front yard was nothing but dirt, dried up brush and wind blown tumble weeds.  A tree was lying across the yard uprooted like it had just fallen; only it had been there for years.  Bill was a short, stout, balding Italian with a big nose and loud mouth.  He had a northern accent and I liked the way he talked.

I had gotten us to Bills, and once we got there it was like my mother had woken up and realized that our roles were reversed.  She immediately went about trying to claim back her motherhood it seemed.  She got a job and did some work around the house too.  I was impressed, but wary.  I didn't believe it would last, but I made the best of it while I could.

I turned 12 and started at a new school for the beginning of 8th grade.  The other children gave me the cold shoulder, but I was use to that.  What I wasn't use to was being befriended.  On my third day of school a girl with blond hair with severely plucked eyebrows came up to me at lunch and asked me if I wanted to sit with her and her friends.  I said yes.  Weeks later I had severely plucked eyebrows too, and I had a best friend, who would one day become as close to me as a sister.  When everyone in my life would abandon me she stayed.  When I found myself running away from everything it was her I turned to. She changed my life and she saved my life.  Her name is Crystal. 

That school year Crystal practically lived over at Bills with my mother and me.  My mother got her eyebrows plucked too.  For a little while I forgot about what it was like to be hungry, dirty, homeless, afraid, and hurt.  I could not forget what it was like to have a mother who was insane though.  My mother's mental health deteriorated.  She lost her job.  She did nothing but sleep from morning till night.  When she was awake it was scary.  Sometimes when she spoke to me it would be in the voice of a baby.  I looked at her with my eyes wide opened and unbelieving... like a deer caught in the headlights of a speeding car.  I was terrified of her when she used that voice.  It was like there was someone else that lived inside of her... and who ever they were, they were angry.  

She would pout and stomp her feet and pull out her hair.  I couldn't ever understand what was wrong though.  Sometimes she would wake up and run out of the room in a panic.  She'd frantically search through all the drawers and yell at me in a loud whisper, "find it! You find it right now or I'll give you something to cry about!  She would bend her entire body over and shake her head like she was trying to put all her energy into her scream, "FIND IIIIIITTTT!!!..."I ran around the house crying, flinging open cabinets and looking under couch cushions.  I never had any idea what I was looking for, but I looked for it anyway.

The first time my mother left me with Bill I was relieved.  The house was peaceful and quiet.  She was gone for two weeks.  Bill took care of me.  He got me to school, treated me to dinner and even took me to a movie.  When my mother came back I teamed up with Bill against her and accused her of being high on drugs.  I felt like I finally had someone I could rely on.  He didn't care about whatever my mom had to offer.  He wanted to help ME.  We searched through her bags and told her to come back when she was clean.  She was gone for a month.... When she came back she had found all of her stuff outside in a box.  Bill had moved it out there in case she came back when we weren't home and needed her things.  It had rained and everything was mildewed.  She cried about finding all of her clothes like that and I felt like someone had stabbed me in the chest. 

Love hurts you the most physically in the chest, right below where your neck meets your torso.  Suffering from a broken heart is a beautiful analogy, but it also makes sense physiologically to me too.  It did feel like my heart was broken.  I made my mother cry.  That box was all she had, and I was all she had.  I had helped put the box together and placed it outside with Bill.   I looked at my mother as she stood there shifting her weight back and forth, unable to keep her head still because of all the drugs running through her blood stream.  She took a big drag of her cigarette and yelled at the guy waiting in the car for her, and at that moment my heart hardened.  She doesn't love me.... She only cares about her drugs... I should be the one crying! 

She wanted me to come with her and leave Bills.  I wanted to go to school and have sleepovers and let Crystal pluck my eyebrows.  I cried and begged my heart not to betray me.  God, I loved her so much.  But I wanted to stay.  I thought about where my mother and me might end up next...  I thought about all the places we had been.  I thought that if I stayed maybe she would have another "awakening" and get another job.  Maybe she would stop doing drugs.  Maybe she would miss me decide that she loved me enough to change.  I ran in the house and locked the door behind me.  Bill bought me from my mother and she left and she never came back.