by Jamie Ott
Copyright © 2010 Jamie Ott. All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be used without written consent.
A-Argus Publishers, Inc.
Publication: 6/01/2010
For more information, please contact [email protected]
Maternal Absence
Sweet Dreams
Chapter 1
Piper lived in a ghetto neighborhood in Pittsburgh. There, she and her mother shared a dirty old apartment. Mom spent most of her life on welfare. Occasionally, she took jobs, but they never lasted. Most recently, she’d been working as a phone sex operator. She probably didn’t think Piper knew, but she heard nearly everything through the walls.
The jeans she wore were more than three years old. Not such a big deal for most people, but when you’re growing, it looks a little odd. Looking down at herself, she felt shame set deep in her skin and bones. It was her only pair of pants. She knew she looked terrible. Kids at school were happy to remind her every day. The inseam fell more than 2 inches above her ankle. In the summer, they could have passed for capris, but now, in the cold early autumn, she looked ridiculous.
The apartment was barely 1200 square feet. Mom used to sleep in the living room while Piper and her other siblings, Mandy and Bob, slept in the only bedroom. Then, almost five years ago, Mom sent them to live with her grandmother. Now, Mom slept in the bedroom while Piper slept in the living room.
Piper didn’t know much about Mandy and Bob because she was still relatively young when they left. Also, she didn’t know much about her father or his family. Her mother was very secretive and refused to talk about them. Only short memories of interactions and phone calls were what she had of them, and they faded more every year.
The one time she spoke, more in depth, to Piper about their family was when she told her they were a bunch of assholes; that her own mother beat her and brought home men who touched her. But the couple times Piper spoke with them on the phone, she found that they were actually really nice.
She flipped through the channels on the cable-less television as she recalled a brief conversation she had with her grandmother once.
“Where are you? Are you in Pennsylvania, still?”
She would have said yes, but her mother had listened to the entire conversation. When she asked about where they were, Mom gave her a death stare, grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back, painfully.
“No, Grandma.”
She hated to lie to her. More than anything, she wanted to scream for her to come and get her, but she knew her mom would make her regret it. Piper was anything but short for fourteen years of age, but she was also skinny like bamboo. Mom was the size of a panda, so there was no fighting back.
After a few more conversations like that, Mom stopped calling Grandma all together, except when she needed money. She knew that putting young Piper on the phone would make Grandma go soft. Piper felt guilty for being a part of her mother’s manipulation. She always promised that Mom would send money or gifts for Mandy and Bob, which she never did.
She never understood why her grandmother put up with it. Every time she called, she sent money despite everything. But if it were her, she’d tell Mom to get lost.
A day in Piper’s life was a walk through hell. Never did she get any breaks. Most kids go to school and get bullied, and then go home to a safe place to recover. Not Piper, for her mother was the biggest bully of them all.
Day and night, she fantasized about going into a rage right at the point when she’d badger her. Temporarily insane, she’d kill her in a most brutal way. Sometimes by stabbing her multiple times with a blunt knife; blood would spray her face and eyes as well as the walls, like in some horror movie. Other times she’d kill her in pretend self-defense. Mom would be pummeling her, and she’d bite her hard on the neck and then spew her bloody flesh on the floor. She’d watch her clutch her neck as she reached for the phone, but Piper would never let her get it. In the end, she’d always claim insanity and the judge would let her go free.
Strangely enough, she only had fantasies, like these, of her mother. Never did she imagine doing these things to any of her tormentors at school. She supposed because she understood bullying and how it happened; why they’d chosen her. What she didn’t understand was how her mother could turn on her.
Piper’s fantasies weren’t always quite so brutal, though. Usually they were like this only during or after her mother had gone off on her. The fantasies were a release; the only way to work out aggression. Most of the time, she just wished she’d get lucky, like maybe Mom would accidentally wind up a victim of a speeding car or a heart attack. Maybe she’d be walking outside and accidentally get shot or something; after all, it was a bad neighborhood.
There was one occasion where she did come close to trying to murder her mother. She’d got home late, and Mom wanted dinner an hour ago. Mom pinned her to floor and punched her, repeatedly, in the head. After the cops came and went, it seemed like Piper had no other way out. She’d stab her, spend a couple years in jail, and hopefully, get out sometime in her twenties. It happened all the time; she knew because she saw it on the news.
It was about 9:30 in the evening when she finally passed out from the whiskey she’d been drinking since noon. Canadian Whiskey and V’s cigarettes suffocated the bedroom, as all the windows were closed as was the door until Piper had opened it. She held her breath and closed her mouth against the odor.
Piper stood in the doorway, stiff like a statue, with a knife raised in her hand for some time. She was brought back to sense when her lungs, of their own accord, suddenly inhaled the putrid air. Her eyes watered as she hacked and gagged.
She closed the door, went back to the couch and seethed. Piper was just a coward, and she knew it. So she sat and imagined coming home to find her mother lifeless, lying in bed and covered in maggots; the stench of her loosened bowels, and the infestation that could swarm the room in just a few hours’ time, especially in summer heat.
The day after this incident, Mom specifically said she wanted her home, and that she was to have dinner done by 5 pm. She hurried up the stoop, threw her book bag on the floor and got to making boxes of macaroni and cheese. There was nothing to drink, so she put ice cubes in a glass and filled it with water.
From the other side of Mom’s door, she heard voices. That’s just how thin the walls were. Muttering traveled through the phone and through the walls. It was probably the same woman she always talked to; a woman she’d met on the phone one night. Piper always knew when it was the woman because Mom always talked differently to her, like they were friends. There was never any sex talk involved.
Since she could already hear everything through the walls, she didn’t think it a big deal to bring her dinner, real quick, and leave. With any luck, she wouldn’t have to see her for the rest of the evening.
She opened the door, and quickly, ran across the room and put down the tray. Mom held up her index finger in a motion that told her to stay; then she, calmly and charmingly, said into the cordless hand set, “Can you hold on a minute?”
She lowered the phone and screamed, “GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE! WHEN THE DOOR IS CLOSED YOU STAY OUT!”
Shocking as it may be, this was often the way she talked to Piper. She loved to scream as loud as her voice could go. Kids on the street would often quote what they’d heard, and this really was a feat, considering that her voice had to carry over 600 square feet, down a hall and through the brick outline of the building.
One would think that Piper would just get used to it, but the truth was she only ever got angrier. Mom wasn’t an average ornery, she was insane.
When she wasn’t fantasizing about killing, she’d imagine a life where she could start over. Often, she had no fa
mily and was completely alone. On television and in movies, people were always shown to yearn for normal families and love. Piper was different. More than anything, she wanted peace and quiet, by herself.
Killer Clowns
Chapter 2
Mercy was mom’s name. Everyone who met her didn’t like her. She was belligerent and abusive, like a dog with rabies, foaming at the mouth and eyes full of crazy. She could deal insults like one who deals cards. But what was most embarrassing was when they’d look from Mom to her. In her eyes, she saw the pity and concern. They felt sorry for her and wondered if they should call child social services. They never did anything, though. Most people would rather not be bothered.
Mom’s appearance was often bizarre and reminded her of a sinister clown she’d seen on television, once. They, both, wore horribly fake wigs, huge sun glasses that covered half their faces, and on their heads, enormous hats. Mom’s clothes would have been just as baggy as the clowns, if not for bulges that were barely contained within them. On more than a few occasions, people pulled Piper aside to ask if she’d been abducted, and if the strange woman was really her mom.
Oh, if only it were so.
She was extremely reluctant to leave her apartment, which made for much talk with the neighbors. Whenever people came to call, Mom would stay hidden in her room. Piper’s job was to learn names, what he or she wanted and send them away.
On a few occasions, she did get a wild hair and answered the door. That’s when Piper, in turn, would hide in her room, like the time her friend’s mother came by to offer her some used clothes. “Well, who the hell is at the goddamn door, now?” she heard.
Piper, who’d just finished a shower, cracked the bathroom door and looked out. Mom stood at the front door in her underwear, and a shirt that barely covered her stomach.
The woman, who was a rosy cheeked blonde lady with a box in her hand, said, “Hi, I’m Jo. I live down the street. Your daughter and mine play together.”
“What the hell do you want?”
Not wanting to be humiliated by her mother again, she lingered inside the bathroom.
“I thought that maybe Piper could use some clothes. I need to get rid of some things.”
“Thanks.” Piper heard her mother say, and then the door closed. She didn’t even say thank you or goodbye. Then she heard the door reopen and her mother say, “Do you have five dollars that I can borrow?”
“Uh,” Jo stammered. “Sure.”
The door closed again.
“Piper!”
She couldn’t keep hiding any longer. Gently, she pulled back the door and walked the few paces into the living room, expecting to get blamed for the woman knowing where they lived.
“Yes?”
“Get your shoes on and go to the store. Get me a pack of cigarettes!”
She handed her the five dollars, walked into her bedroom and slammed the door.
Morning Rage
Chapter 3
“Get out of my house!” her mother screamed.
She grabbed her backpack and jacket, and slammed the door behind her. To school, she went as usual.
There, no one spoke to her, and that was good. She was close to blowing, and the last thing she needed was another suspension for fighting. Piper kept her head down and pretended she were someone else and somewhere else.
Mom made Piper wash, both, their clothes in the tub. Over the weekend, she forgot to scrub out the ring of residue that was always left behind. She didn’t understand why this made her mad because she didn’t bathe or shower much. This was something that many others had noticed. In fact, her body odor had a strange scent that reminded her of cheeseburgers with onions. Combine this with her cheeriness and dragon breath and you can see why most people wanted to get away from her. Once, in a movie, they called this place a bog of eternal stench; it reminded her of her mother.
Mom just liked rage. There was no other explanation. There was always satisfaction in her eyes after having an episode. The more she hurt Piper, the more elated she seemed.
School was dreadful, but none of them were nearly as mean as her mother. Sure, she was constantly harassed by other students for her appearance, especially during lunch time, like the other day when kids flicked bits of mashed potatoes into her long, brown greasy hair. But that was just nice; they hadn’t a clue about real cruelty and how to go about it.
Piper got home at about 4:00 pm. Her feet made scratching sounds as she walked up the five steps of the stoop. She twisted the cold, silver knob, but it hit metal and flipped back. It was strange because Mom didn’t want to have to get out of bed to let her in the house, and she didn’t want to bother with getting her an extra key, so the door was always unlocked.
She knocked on the door several times; then she banged and pounded.
“Mom… MOM! I can’t get in.”
After a few minutes without reply, she turned and sat on the stoop. They hadn’t had a car in years and she hated taking the bus, so she couldn’t have possibly gone far. She wanted her dinner at five ‘o’ clock every day without exception. Mom would be back soon, she told herself.
But when the sky had become dark blue, Piper started to worry. Mom locked her out of the house before, but usually just on the weekends. She didn’t want her around in the day, but no matter what, she wanted her home in the evenings. Had she finally gotten her wish? Was her mother in a fatal accident?
Desperate and Confused
Chapter 4
It was dark and chilly; Piper shivered uncontrollably. Just like in a cartoon, her jaw quivered up and down.
“Keep moving,” she told herself. “You’ll stay warmer that way.”
She walked around the block as quickly as she could, hoping to get her blood moving. Instead, she became extremely fatigued. Spotting a stone bench at the corner of Main Street, where all the city buses stopped, she hurried over. Cold traveled up from the stone, though she tried to ignore it and pulled her shivering legs into her chest.
Piper didn’t have a watch or a cell phone so she didn’t know what time it was. However, all the night lights were on and the moon was full.
When she couldn’t take the cold of the bench anymore, or the rushing of air as the cars drove past, Piper walked home again.
Still, no lights were on in her apartment.
“Where the hell did my mother go? It’s late and I am damn hungry and cold.”
Despite her cold, trembling hands, Piper tried to keep busy by doing her homework. Then she doodled on a blank piece of paper while watching the neighbors, across the street, sit down to dinner.
Her stomach rumbled.
~~~
Some hours later, she woke with a start. Her heart pounded the way it did when she had bad dreams. The neighbor’s lights, across the street, were out. All up and down the block, people had settled in for the night. The moon had moved from its earlier position, over the buildings, and now sat right in the middle of the street. This meant that she’d been asleep for quite a while.
Despite the cold, she started to sweat. Had her mother finally abandoned her, as she’d threatened to do so many times before? She should call the police, but if her mother had abandoned her, they’d never let her stay the night, alone, in the apartment. And with no other family or friends, who knows where they’d put her.
She turned to the door again and knocked.
“Mooom! I know you’re there! Let me in!”
That was it! She was tired and cold! The glass was thin and she could easily break it. She’d just do like others in the neighborhood and cover it with cardboard.
She balled up her hand and smashed it into the glass. Shards sprayed all over her. There wasn’t enough room in the glass for her climb through. She needed to break out more, but first, she looked around to see if any neighbors noticed the noise.
No one stirred. Then as she was about to re extend her fist, a car, a few blocks down, flashed its bluish lights along the street.
Piper didn’t hesitate. She bolted to the street corner and went right, and right again, until she reached an alley she’d never seen before. Against the wall was a large green dumpster. She walked to the other side of it, so as to obscure her view from the street.
Heart still pounding, she slid down the wall until her butt hit her heels. Now, there was no way she could go back to the apartment. What if the cops continued looking for her?
Standing up and looking into the dumpster, she noticed several ripped up pieces of cardboard boxing. She pulled them out of the can. Just as she was about to arrange them on the ground, so she could lay down, she caught a glimpse at the bottom of the dumpster. There was two feet of space, which was enough room for her to squeeze under and sleep, providing a barricade against the wind. Best of all, she’d be invisible to passersby.
First, she slid the cardboard under and then slid in, feet first, herself. Although she was still cold and shivering, her heart and muscles relaxed and she fell asleep.
~~~
She woke with another jolt. Forgetting where she was, she banged her head into the bottom of the dumpster, causing a loud gong-like noise. Her body ached from shivering all night. Her clothes were moist with dew, and her skin was clammy. The sky was a bright dark blue, as it looked early in the morning.
Stiffly, she pulled herself from under the can, and though she told herself not to, she went home again. As she approached the street on which she lived, she looked ahead to see if there were any cops. All the glass was still on the steps. The broken window had not been touched. Maybe the cops didn’t see her break the window, after all.
What should she do next? It was almost morning, and a school day. She was dirty and wearing the same clothes as the day before. Not that this was unusual, but she always tried to, at least, change her shirt and shower.
Her stomach rumbled. That answered her question: she should go to school and get breakfast.
At the corner of the street, there was a pay phone. What if Mom had a heart attack and was still inside the apartment? Wasn’t it awful that she hadn’t called anyone?
She walked up to the metal box and put her shaky index finger to the number pad.
“Hello, this is 9-1-1.”
For the briefest moment, she was going to hang up, but the woman answered the call on the half of the first ring.
