Won’t. No, I’ll deal with it
when I come up for air. Up from
this place I’ve finally settled into.
Sleep. Deep, deep sleep. What is
that noise? It won’t stop, like an
alarm clock without a snooze button.
Suddenly I’m ratcheted awake,
roughly set on my feet, pushed
out the front door. Mom’s
crazed face parts the cerebral mist.
This is the last straw, Kristina.
What’s going on? My brain
feels like mush. Behind Mom,
I see Jake, holding Hunter,
who’s howling like he’s
just been bitten. “Wha…?”
You are leaving. And Hunter
is staying. Do not come back
here until you’re completely
sober. And don’t even think
about trying to take this baby.
I don’t get it. All I did was
take a nap. My head is thick,
my mouth unsure how to
work. “Wha…what d-did I do?
And where will I go?”
While you were sleeping, Hunter
rolled under a chair, and got
stuck under there. He was screaming
and you couldn’t be bothered to
wake up and find out why?
Rolled? Hunter can roll?
Since when? He’s only six
months old. Six-month-olds
can roll? Why didn’t anyone
tell me he could roll?
I don’t care where you go.
Live on the street, sleep
in your car. Just don’t come
back here. And don’t ask
for money. Get help, Kristina.
She won’t even let me back
in the house to get my clothes.
Get my keys. She makes me
sit in my car while she gets
them for me. What do I do now?
Help
I need help.
The first person
who comes to mind
is, of course, Trey. I dial
his cell. No answer but voice
mail. “Please call me. I need help.”
Sleep.
I need sleep.
While I wait for
Trey’s call, I’ll catch
a little nap. I drive to an
out-of-the-way parking place,
climb over the seat into the back.
Warmth.
I need warmth.
Snow on the ground
outside, it’s freezing in
here. No blanket in my car,
I burrow into my big overcoat,
tuck my face against my arm, catlike.
Buzz.
I need a buzz
to get me through
this time of trial. Sleep.
I’ll sleep, then I’ll catch a
buzz. It’s under the seat in front
of me and that’s a comforting thought.
It’s Dark
When I wake up, dark and bitter
cold. My thoughts scatter
like a swarm of mosquitoes.
I know I’m in the backseat
of my car, but I can’t remember
exactly why. Hunter? Something
about…Oh, now it all comes
back to me. I screwed up.
I screwed up and Mom called
me on it. Called. Called?
Did Trey call? I reach for my cell.
No voice mail. He didn’t call?
I punch my own call button.
On the other end, the phone
rings and rings, finally goes
to voice mail. “Would you please
call me?” I beg. “I need you.”
Where the hell is he, anyway?
Then I glance at the clock
on my phone. Three A.M.
But is he sleeping alone?
No More Sleep for Me
Now that I’m awake, I can feel the cold,
whittling my skin, worrying my bones.
I want to get high, but I need to eat first.
My belly is empty as a Mojave water hole.
Three A.M. I’ll have to drive to Denny’s
if I want to eat at this hour of the day.
I start the car, de-ice the windows, wonder
why Trey never called me back.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m in a pink
and orange booth, waiting for my Moons
Over My Hammy. Filling. Easy to eat.
Cheap. Guess I won’t be eating at home
for a while. Maybe Mom was only jiving.
[Yeah, right. And I’m a prima ballerina.]
The food comes, served by a stone-
faced waitress. Want anything else?
Let me see. How about a place to go to
when I get off work later? “Not right now.”
The sandwich is greasy and tasty and I eat
it slowly, not to savor the flavors, but to kill
time, three-plus hours until work. At least
it’s warm in here. Safe. Warm. Safe. That reminds
me of a night, spent in Trey’s arms, at his
cousin Brad’s house. Brad! He has that big spare
room. It’s kind of far from work, but hey,
there’s a convenience store in Red Rock, too.
And guess what. Now I’ve got cash
register experience. Brad, who’s cute.
Brad, who’s cool. Brad, who has the best
connection this side of Mexico. [Give him a call.]
Brad Is Home When I Call
I tell him what happened—that my
loving mother kicked me out
and kept my baby—omitting a little
information he doesn’t need to know.
“So…any chance I might be able
to stay with you for a while?”
[Tell him you’ll make it worth
his while.] I tell him exactly that.
He hesitates. Uh, well, I never
really thought about taking in
a renter. He thinks a bit. First
off, you are over eighteen, right?
“Eighteen and extra,” I say,
giving him plenty of time to
think it over. It seems to take
a helluva lot more than plenty.
Well, I can let you stay for a while,
I guess. I’m not sure I’m willing
to commit to a long-term thing,
so we’ll have to play it by ear, okay?
Whatever works. At least I won’t
have to sleep in my car tonight.
“Okay. Thanks, Brad. Um, can
you remind me how to get there?”
I Finish My Shift
About halfway
through, a distributor
comes in with a dolly
full of boxes.
Where do you want
the candy canes?
Candy canes.
Christmas is only
a few weeks away.
I have toys on
layaway for Hunter.
Will I get to play Santa?
Where will I be
Christmas morning?
On the Way to Red Rock
I stop by the store, pick up the few
things I know I can eat when I’m
walking with the monster—fruit,
light yogurt, several cans of soup.
Probably rather impolite
to expect Brad to feed me too.
I also buy a toothbrush,
toothpaste, and a hairbrush.
Mom neglected to pack mine.
She also forgot to include my
makeup, but I can’t afford more
than mascara, at least not until
my next paycheck.
Paycheck
to paycheck. Hey, I think I get
that now. It really does suck.
As I’m driving down Red
Rock Road, my cell rings.
The caller ID makes me
happy. Pissed. Relieved. Pissed.
I flip open the phone. “Where
the hell have you been?”
Hey, you okay? What’s wrong,
anyway? Are you hurt? In jail?
What kind of help do you need?
I tell Trey what’s up, but really,
really want to know, “What took
you so fucking long to call?”
I just got your message. My cell’s
battery died and I couldn’t find
my charger. Just got another one.
I hate when someone has an
unshakeable alibi. “Oh. Sorry.
It’s just that I really needed you.”
Apology accepted. And I promise
to try to call more often, okay?
Anyway, it’s almost semester break.
Two weeks and counting down.
Am I done being mad at him?
For now, I guess. Thinking
about being with him again
has got me feeling a little
antsy. “Can’t wait to see you.”
Me too. Hey, tell Brad everything’s
jake, okay? And let me know how
you’re doing. Love you, Kristina.
I hope so. I need him
more than ever right now.
“I love you, too, Trey.”
Life at Brad’s
Isn’t bad. I mean, I’ve got
this great room, utilities
included; easy access to
the best ice in Reno (not to
mention a cool place to smoke it);
and I’m pretty much free
to do exactly as I please.
Okay, I do need to work
because I promised Brad
fifty dollars a week—not bad.
I’ve been driving all the way
to the Sev, which has to change
very soon. I mean, with gas
at this price, and the LTD
rating a whopping nine miles
per gallon, I’m not netting
a mint from my paychecks.
There’s another little problem.
And that is from time to time
my mom or Scott or Jake
happens in while I’m working.
It’s awkward, to say the least,
especially if Mom has Hunter.
The Glacier Queen doesn’t ignore
me, exactly. But she doesn’t
act like more than a customer.
Mom and I, in fact, have not
exchanged more than a dozen
sentences since she pushed
me out the front door, almost
two weeks ago. I thought she
might invite me to share Christmas
with the family, but so far,
not one word.
At Brad’s, preparation for
Santa is in full swing. I try
to participate (mostly because
I’m incredibly homesick), but
Devon and LaTreya have not
as yet identified me as “family.”
I don’t think they have a clue
why I’m here, and I’m pretty
sure they’d rather not have
me here, but such is life,
little girls. Still, I do my
best to be nice. Very nice.
That isn’t always easy,
especially when the monster
insists their whining could
be dealt with by giving them
a good shake, or locking
them up in a closet. Okay,
not really viable options,
but kind of fun to think
about, when they go on and on
about cartoons and snacks and
When is Mommy coming back?
That one really gets to me.
December Twenty-First
Last day of Trey’s finals.
He says he’ll be here tomorrow,
but the weather service is calling
for a major blizzard, so things might
not work out exactly as planned.
As my shift winds down, Kevin
comes in with the payroll.
He gestures for me to follow
him into the storeroom. I oblige
with a little smile, because I’ve got
a plan of action. Kevin looms in the
doorway, makes sure our bodies
touch as I pass by. I wait for
my check but before he
hands it to me, he says,
I scheduled you to work on
Christmas. I know you asked for it
off, but Midge has seniority. She asked
first. He measures my reaction, which
must disappoint him. No way would
I work Christmas, but I already
planned to quit today. “Sorry,
Kevin. You probably know I’m
living in the North Valleys now, and
the commute has become impossible.
I was going to give two weeks’
notice, but I’m not going to
work Christmas Day.”
His face flares, one
shade lighter than purple.
Damn, it’s scary! You can’t
just up and quit like that. What
am I supposed to do for help?
He’s actually waiting
for an answer.
“I don’t know, Kevin.
Maybe you’ll have to work
it yourself. Or call up one of
your little hos. I couldn’t care
less. In fact, I may as well
leave right now. I think
it looks like snow.”
He stalks closer, fists
clenched, eyes ablaze. This
guy is totally crazed. You will
not get unemployment, you know,
and I won’t give you a positive
reference. You might want
to rethink this decision.
Come on, Bree, tell
me what to say. [You’ve
got a trump card. Play it.] “I
don’t care about unemployment. But
I would like a positive reference. I
probably should tell you that
I’ve recorded a couple of
our conversations about
your entrepreneurial ventures.
I’d hate to see that information
fall into the uh…wrong hands, you
know?” (Total bullshit, but he has
no way of knowing that.) God,
this is totally great. Now
he’s like plum purple.
You little bitch. I should have
known. I’ll have to think about
that reference, Kristina. Finish up
your shift, anyway. Do you want
me to mail your final check?
He knows the answer.
I Cash My Check
(Figure I’d better do it quick), then stop by
Wal-Mart to pick up my Xmas layaway. It’s a
freaking madhouse, four days till Christmas, no
good stuff left, and what’s left picked through.
Impossible lines zigzag toward the layaway desk.
Might as well get comfortable. I’m lost in the shopping
diorama when someone taps my shoulder. Kristina?
Is that you? Wow, you sure have, um…changed.
The voice is vaguely familiar, but somehow not right
for this time and place. When I turn, my equilibrium
is threatened. It’s Quade, my first crush, the one I
couldn’t quite find the courage to kiss. [Oh, man,
why the hell not?]
“Quade? It can’t be you. Talk about
changing!” His spiked hair is bleached on the ends,
and his eyebrows are pierced. Metal? I’m guessing
heavy. “You look great, though.” [Understatement!
He’s frigging fine.] “What are you up to nowadays?
Do you live in Reno?” [Like you could be so lucky.]
No, actually, I still live at home, at least when
I quit moving around long enough to touch down
there. My band and I have a gig at Dr. Nasty’s—
that new club on Fourth Street. Hey, you busy tonight?
“Well, actually, no…but I’m not sure if they would
let me inside. I’m not quite twenty-one, you know.”
Quade scans his memory banks. Ah,
right. I can get you in, though. He winks.
You’re with me. He stands in line
with me awhile, and we talk about “the
good old days,” as if we were ancient.