I heard the seat shift and turned. Jimmy smiled at me and I knew why I’d slept with him. He leaned forward and we kissed. His lips were soft and the kiss was gentle. He put his hand on the back of my neck. “You’re beautiful.”
I thought it was just a line, the polite thing to say after a one-night stand, so I didn’t answer.
“Did you get any?” Jimmy said.
“What?” I said.
“Blueberries.” He grinned. “Don’t you remember?”
I stared at him.
His grin faded. “Do you remember anything?”
I shrugged.
“Well. We left the party, I dunno, around two, I guess. You said you wanted blueberries. We came out here—” He cleared his throat.
“Then we fucked, passed out, and now we’re stranded.” I finished the sentence. The sun was getting uncomfortable. I took off the emergency blanket. I had no idea what to say next. “Battery’s dead.”
He swore and leaned over me to try the ignition.
I got out of his way by stepping out of the car. Hastily he put his shirt on, not looking up at me. He had a nice chest, buff and tan. He blushed and I wondered if he had done this before.
“You cool with this?” I said.
He immediately became macho. “Yeah.”
I felt really shitty then. God, I thought, he’s going to be a bragger.
I went and sat on the hood. It was hot. I was thirsty and had a killer headache. Jimmy got out and sat beside me.
“You know where we are?” Jimmy said.
“Not a fucking clue.”
He looked at me and we both started laughing.
“You were navigating last night,” he said, nudging me.
“You always listen to pissed women?”
“Yeah,” he said, looking sheepish. “Well. You hungry?”
I shook my head. “Thirsty.”
Jimmy hopped off the car and came back with a warm Coke from under the driver’s seat. We drank it in silence.
“You in any rush to get back?” he asked.
We started laughing again and then went hunting for blueberries. Jimmy found a patch not far from the car and we picked the bushes clean. I’d forgotten how tart wild blueberries are. They’re smaller than store-bought berries, but their flavor is much more intense.
“My sister’s the wilderness freak,” Jimmy said. “She’d be able to get us out of this. Or at least she’d know where we are.”
We were perched on a log. “You gotta promise me something.”
“What?”
“If I pop off before you, you aren’t going to eat me.”
“What?”
“I’m serious,” I said. “And I’m not eating any bugs.”
“If you don’t try them, you’ll never know what you’re missing.” Jimmy looked at the road. “You want to pick a direction?’
The thought of trekking down the dusty logging road in the wrong direction held no appeal to me. I must have made a face because Jimmy said, “Me neither.”
After the sun set, Jimmy made a fire in front of the car. We put the aluminum blanket under us and lay down. Jimmy pointed at the sky. “That’s the Big Dipper.”
“Ursa Major,” I said. “Mother of all bears. There’s Ursa Minor, Cassiopeia …” I stopped.
“I didn’t know you liked astronomy.”
“It’s pretty nerdy.”
He kissed me. “Only if you think it is.” He put his arm around me and I put my head on his chest and listened to his heart. It was a nice way to fall asleep.
Jimmy shook me awake. “Car’s coming.” He pulled me to my feet. “It’s my sister.”
“Mmm.” Blurrily I focused on the road. I could hear birds and, in the distance, the rumble of an engine.
“My sister could find me in hell,” he said.
When they dropped me off at home, my mom went ballistic. “Where the hell were you?”
“Out.” I stopped at the door. I hadn’t expected her to be there when I came in.
Her chest was heaving. I thought she’d start yelling, but she said very calmly, “You’ve been gone for two days.”
You noticed? I didn’t say it. I felt ill and I didn’t want a fight. “Sorry. Should’ve called.”
I pushed past her, kicked off my shoes, and went upstairs.
Still wearing my smelly jeans and shirt I lay down on the bed. Mom followed me to my room and shook my shoulder.
“Tell me where you’ve been.”
“At Ronny’s.”
“Don’t lie to me. What is wrong with you?”
God. Just get lost. I wondered what she’d do if I came out and said what we both knew. Probably have a heart attack. Or call me a liar.
“You figure it out,” I said. “I’m going to sleep.” I expected her to give me a lecture or something, but she just left.
Sometimes, when friends were over, she’d point to Alice and say, “This is my good kid.” Then she’d point to me and say, “This is my rotten kid, nothing but trouble. She steals, she lies, she sleeps around. She’s just no damn good.”
Alice knocked on my door later.
“Fuck off,” I said.
“You’ve got a phone call.”
“Take a message. I’m sleeping.”
Alice opened the door and poked her head in. “You want me to tell Jimmy anything else?”
I scrambled down the hallway and grabbed the receiver. I took a couple of deep breaths so it wouldn’t sound like I’d rushed to the phone. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Jimmy said. “We just replaced the battery on the car. You want to go for a ride?”
“Aren’t you grounded?”
He laughed. “So?”
I thought he just wanted to get lucky again, and then I thought, What the hell, at least this time I’ll remember it.
“Pick me up in five minutes.”
I’m getting my ass kicked by two sisters. They’re really good. They hit solidly and back off quickly. I don’t even see them coming anymore. I get mad enough to kick out. By sheer luck, the kick connects. One of the sisters shrieks and goes down. She’s on the ground, her leg at an odd angle. The other one loses it and swings. The bouncer steps in and the crowd around us boos.
“My cousins’ll be at a biker party. You want to go?”
Jimmy looked at me like he wasn’t sure if I was serious.
“I’ll be good,” I said, crossing my heart then holding up my fingers in a scout salute.
“What fun would that be?” he said, revving the car’s engine.
I gave him directions. The car roared away from our house, skidding a bit. Jimmy didn’t say anything. I found it unnerving. He looked over at me, smiled, then turned back to face the road. I was used to yappy guys, but this was nice. I leaned my head back into the seat. The leather creaked.
Ronny’s newest party house didn’t look too bad, which could have meant it was going to be dead in there. It’s hard to get down and dirty when you’re worried you’ll stain the carpet. You couldn’t hear anything thing until someone opened the door and the music throbbed out. They did a good job with the soundproofing. We went up the steps just as my cousin Frank came out with some bar buddies.
Jimmy stopped when he saw Frank and I guess I could see why. Frank is on the large side, six-foot-four and scarred up from his days as a hard-core Bruce Lee fan, when he felt compelled to fight Evil in street bars. He looked down at Jimmy.
“Hey, Jimbo,” Frank said. “Heard you quit the swim team.”
“You betcha,” Jimmy said.
“Fucking right!” Frank body-slammed him. He tended to be more enthusiastic than most people could handle, but Jimmy looked okay with it. “More time to party,” he said. Now they were going to gossip forever so I went inside.
The place was half-empty. I recognized some people and nodded. They nodded back. The music was too loud for conversation.
“You want a drink?” Frank yelled, touching my arm.
I jumped. He quickly to
ok his hand back. “Where’s Jimmy?”
“Ronny gave him a hoot and now he’s hacking up his lungs out back.” Frank took off his jacket, closed his eyes, and shuffled back and forth. All he knew was the reservation two-step and I wasn’t in the mood. I moved toward the porch but Frank grabbed my hand. “You two doing the wild thing?”
“He’s all yours,” I said.
“Fuck you,” Frank called after me.
Jimmy was leaning against the railing, his back toward me, his hands jammed into his pockets. I watched him. His hair was dark and shiny, brushing his shoulders. I liked the way he moved, easily, like he was in no hurry to get anywhere. His eyes were light brown with gold flecks. I knew that in a moment he would turn and smile at me and it would be like stepping into sunlight.
In my dream Jimmy’s casting a fishing rod. I’m afraid of getting hooked, so I sit at the bow of the skiff. The ocean is mildly choppy, the sky is hard blue, the air is cool. Jimmy reaches over to kiss me, but now he is soaking wet. His hands and lips are cold, his eyes are sunken and dull. Something moves in his mouth. It isn’t his tongue. When I pull away, a crab drops from his lips and Jimmy laughs. “Miss me?”
I feel a scream in my throat but nothing comes out.
“What’s the matter?” Jimmy tilts his head. Water runs off his hair and drips into the boat. “Crab got your tongue?”
This one’s outside Hanky Panky’s. The woman is so totally bigger than me it isn’t funny. Still, she doesn’t like getting hurt. She’s afraid of the pain but can’t back down because she started it. She’s grabbing my hair, yanking it hard. I pull hers. We get stuck there, bent over, trying to kick each other, neither one of us willing to let go. My friends are laughing their heads off. I’m pissed at that but I’m too sloshed to let go. In the morning my scalp will throb and be so tender I won’t be able to comb my hair. At that moment, a bouncer comes over and splits us apart. The woman tries to kick me but kicks him instead and he knocks her down. My friends grab my arm and steer me to the bus stop.
Jimmy and I lay down together on a sleeping bag in a field of fireweed. The forest fire the year before had razed the place and the weeds had only sprouted back up about a month earlier. With the spring sun and just the right sprinkling of rain, they were as tall as sunflowers, as dark pink as prize roses, swaying around us in the night breeze.
Jimmy popped open a bottle of Baby Duck. “May I?” he said, reaching down to untie my sneaker.
“You may,” I said.
He carefully lifted the sneaker and poured in some Baby Duck. Then he raised it to my lips and I drank. We lay down, flattening fireweed and knocking over the bottle. Jimmy nibbled my ear. I drew circles in the bend of his arm. Headlights came up fast, then disappeared down the highway. We watched the fireweed shimmer and wave in the wind.
“You’re quiet tonight,” Jimmy said. “What’re you thinking?”
I almost told him then. I wanted to tell him. I wanted someone else to know and not have it locked inside me. I kept starting and then chickening out. What was the point? He’d probably pull away from me in horror, disgusted, revolted.
“I want to ask you something,” Jimmy whispered. I closed my eyes, feeling my chest tighten. “You hungry? I’ve got a monster craving for chicken wings.”
Bloody Vancouver
When I got to Aunt Erma’s the light in the hallway was going spastic, flickering like a strobe, little bright flashes then darkness so deep I had to feel my way along the wall. I stopped in front of the door, sweating, smelling myself through the thick layer of deodorant. I felt my stomach go queasy and wondered if I was going to throw up after all. I hadn’t eaten and was still bleeding heavily.
Aunt Erma lived in east Van in a low-income government housing unit. Light showed under the door. I knocked. I could hear the familiar opening of Star Trek, the old version, with the trumpets blaring. I knocked again.
The door swung open and a girl with a purple mohawk and Cleopatra eyeliner thrust money at me.
“Shit,” she said. She looked me up and down, pulling the money back. “Where’s the pizza?”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I think I have the wrong house.”
“Pizza, pizza, pizza!” teenaged voices inside screamed. Someone was banging the floor in time to the chant.
“You with Cola?” she asked me.
I shook my head. “No. I’m here to see Erma Williamson. Is she in?”
“In? I guess. Mom?” she screamed. “Mom? It’s for you!”
A whoop rose up. “Erma and Marley sittin’ in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g. First comes lust—”
“Shut up, you social rejects!”
“—then comes humping, then comes a baby after all that bumping!”
“How many times did they boink last night!” a single voice yelled over the laughter.
“Ten!” the voices chorused enthusiastically. “Twenty! Thirty! Forty!”
“Hey! Who’s buying the pizza, eh? No respect! I get no respect!”
Aunt Erma came to the door. She didn’t look much different from her pictures, except she wasn’t wearing her cat-eye glasses.
She stared at me, puzzled. Then she spread open her arms.
“Adelaine, baby! I wasn’t expecting you! Hey, come on in and say hi to your cousins. Pepsi! Cola! Look who came by for your birthday!”
She gave me a tight bear hug and I wanted to cry.
Two girls stood at the entrance to the living room, identical right down to their lip rings. They had different colored Mohawks though—one pink, one purple.
“Erica?” I said, peering. I vaguely remembered them as having pigtails and making fun of Mr. Rogers. “Heather?”
“It’s Pepsi,” the purple Mohawk said. “Not, n-o-t, Erica.”
“Oh,” I said.
“Cola,” the pink-Mohawked girl said, turning around and ignoring me to watch TV.
“What’d you bring us?” Pepsi said matter-of-factly.
“Excuse the fruit of my loins,” Aunt Erma said, leading me into the living room and sitting me between two guys who were glued to the TV. “They’ve temporarily lost their manners. I’m putting it down to hormones and hoping the birth control pills turn them back into normal human beings.”
Aunt Erma introduced me to everyone in the room, but their names went in one ear and out the other. I was so relieved just to be there and out of the clinic I couldn’t concentrate on much else.
“How is he, Bones?” the guy on my right said, exactly in synch with Captain Kirk on TV. Captain Kirk was standing over McCoy and a prone security guard with large purple circles all over his face.
“He’s dead, Jim,” the guy on my left said.
“I wanna watch something else,” Pepsi said. “This sucks.”
She was booed.
“Hey, it’s my birthday. I can watch what I want.”
“Siddown,” Cola said. “You’re out-voted.”
“You guys have no taste at all. This is crap. I just can’t believe you guys are watching this—this cultural pabulum. I—”
A pair of panties hit her in the face. The doorbell rang and the pink-haired girl held the pizza boxes over her head and yelled, “Dinner’s ready!”
“Eat in the kitchen,” Aunt Erma said. “All of youse. I ain’t scraping your cheese out of my carpet.”
Everyone left except me and Pepsi. She grabbed the remote control and flipped through a bunch of channels until we arrived at one where an announcer for the World Wrestling Federation screamed that the ref was blind.
“Now this,” Pepsi said, “is entertainment.”
By the time the party ended, I was snoring on the couch. Pepsi shook my shoulder. She and Cola were watching Bugs Bunny and Tweety.
“If we’re bothering you,” Cola said. “You can go crash in my room.”
“Thanks,” I said. I rolled off the couch, grabbed my backpack, and found the bathroom on the second floor. I made it just in time to throw up in the sink. The cramps didn’t come back as b
adly as on the bus, but I took three Extra-Strength Tylenols anyway. My pad had soaked right through and leaked all over my underwear. I put on clean clothes and crashed in one of the beds. I wanted a black hole to open up and suck me out of the universe.
When I woke, I discovered I should have put on a diaper. It looked like something had been hideously murdered on the mattress.
“God,” I said just as Pepsi walked in. I snatched up the blanket and tried to cover the mess.
“Man,” Pepsi said. “Who are you? Carrie?”
“Freaky,” Cola said, coming in behind her. “You okay?”
I nodded. I wished I’d never been born.
Pepsi hit my hand when I touched the sheets. “You’re not the only one with killer periods.” She pushed me out of the bedroom. In the bathroom she started water going in the tub for me, poured some Mr. Bubble in, and left without saying anything. I stripped off my blood-soaked underwear and hid them in the bottom of the garbage. There would be no saving them. I lay back. The bubbles popped and gradually the water became cool. I was smelly and gross. I scrubbed hard but the smell wouldn’t go away.
“You still alive in there?” Pepsi said, opening the door.
I jumped up and whisked the shower curtain shut.
“Jesus, don’t you knock?”
“Well, excuuuse me. I brought you a bathrobe. Good thing you finally crawled out of bed. Mom told us to make you eat something before we left. We got Ichiban, Kraft, or hot dogs. You want anything else, you gotta make it yourself. What do you want?”
“Privacy.”
“We got Ichiban, Kraft, or hot dogs. What do you want?”
“The noodles,” I said, more to get her out than because I was hungry.
She left and I tried to lock the door. It wouldn’t lock so I scrubbed myself off quickly. I stopped when I saw the bathwater. It was dark pink with blood.
I crashed on the couch and woke when I heard sirens. I hobbled to the front window in time to see an ambulance pull into the parking lot. The attendants wheeled a man bound to a stretcher across the lot. He was screaming about the eyes in the walls that were watching him, waiting for him to fall asleep so they could come peel his skin from his body.
Aunt Erma, the twins, and I drove to the powwow at the Trout Lake community center in East Vancouver. I was still bleeding a little and felt pretty lousy, but Aunt Erma was doing fundraising for the Helping Hands Society and had asked me to work her bannock booth. I wanted to help her out.
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