Pioneers pt. 1
I
needed a pen, a goddamn fifty cent Bic either blue or black. My whole life
turned on a fucking pen.
I
was late. For some reason borrowing a pen is a huge pain in the ass even though
they float around like air. Teenagers are so possessive of their things. It’s
because they think the things they lose will never come back to them. There was
no way I was going to ask half a dozen kids to borrow a pen only to be
reluctantly borrowed a click pen stolen from a dentist office. I do not like my
peers. I do not like their bullshit.
I
worked myself into a complete panic. Time was running out and I had to leave.
The only writing utensil I could find in the whole house was the one my little
brother LJ was using to scribble on a notepad in the hallway outside mom’s
room. I could knock on her door and ask for a pen. I knew she had a least fifty
of them in her purse but I could hear country music playing from her clock
radio. The smell of perfume and cigarettes leeched under the door.
She
might not be alone. Either way, I knew she was getting ready for work at the
senior center. Bothering her in anyway was just going to piss her off which is
why I had to catch the bus and not ask her for a ride to school.
It
was a no win situation but I made up my mind. In one continuous motion I
grabbed the pen out of LJ’s hand slipped on my coat and walked out the door. LJ
erupted behind me like a hand grenade. He was seven years old but he cried a
like a toddler. The baby of the family can always get away with crap like that.
The rest of us were told to shut up as soon as we learned to talk. LJ was
milking it. You would have thought I’d just kicked his ass.
All
this noise punched mom’s rage button hard. She swung open her door and upon
seeing LJ crumpled in a heap before her wailing saw red. I took one step
outside before she swung me around. She stood before me with in her bathrobe.
Her eyes were small and furious. Her hands were raised in fists before me.
“Why
don’t you beat me up too?”
This
moment right here is where my heart breaks. I hated everything about my life
and I resented my situation. I had been pissed off for a long time and did not
try to hide it anymore. Even so, I would never hit, kick, bite, maul, or in any
way assault anybody. You just don’t do that. It meant our expectations of each
other had synchronized.
Standing
there, I felt the blood drain from my body. I could hear LJ in the distance,
hysterical gasping to catch his breath. My mother bobbing before my like a
boxer, robe akimbo exposing bra and panties in the cool autumn morning. It was
so absurd I was going into shock.
My
voice was calm, without affect. “I needed a pen for school.”
I
held the clear octagonal no cap chewed end black ink pen before me. She swiped
it from my hand. Then I just walked away. I didn’t look back. Nobody said
anything. I made it halfway down the street before I completely broke down.
I
could not stop crying. I tried to fight it and it overwhelmed me. I couldn’t
see and started to stumble. I eventually stopped alongside the road and
crouched down until my face touched my knees then buried my head with my hands.
It was so embarrassing. I couldn’t control myself. I was a seventeen year old
boy balling his eyes out on Euclid Avenue at 6:30 in the morning. I prayed no
one would see me.
All
I could think was, “Damn her! Why does everything have to be a fucking crisis?
Fucking Defcon 5?! Fucking nuclear?! “
I
didn’t always hate my mother. I used to fear her. Things were alright when it
was just the two of us and I was small. She wasn’t affectionate but she was
attentive. She could always see me play by myself from an adjoining room. Occasionally
she could be cruel. She told me I was the reason my father left. That one stuck
with me. I remembered it. Otherwise, I behaved myself and we got along fine.
When
I was seven she met Larry Senior. When I was eight they got married and when I
was nine Jenny was born and a year later Larry Junior. Larry Senior found my
very presence annoying but he was too polite to ever make a big deal out of it.
He was much more interested in his own kids. I get that.
Jenny
was a good kid. She hardly made any noise didn’t stink and stayed out of
trouble. LJ was gasoline, noxious, highly flammable. When he got mad he would
fly into screaming tantrum rage fits. LJ stayed with mom. Jenny hid. I watched television. I thought
about running away all the time.
The problem was
that there was only so much mom had to give of herself. LJ used it up. She was constantly
tired and angry. It was best just to avoid her all together. Hardly a day went
by without some drama. The routine became unbearable. Usually it was just small
stuff but whoever was closest got it.
Once she cornered
me in the hallway. I hadn’t done anything even remotely wrong in weeks. Still,
for a half an hour she screamed at me like I was some great evil she had to
exercise. I didn’t crack. I was a champ at taking it. I can’t tell you what
happened the rest of the day. I don’t remember.
Then,
one day I stopped giving a shit. Mom decided to start fucking some married guy
who lived down the street. Larry lost it but he didn’t want to leave. She
kicked him out anyways. He stalked us for a year then vanished. Mom thought her
new beau with his fancy accountant job would leave his wife and make her his
number two but he was just screwing around.
By the time she
figured that out we were living in a damp moldy shithouse in a shitty
neighborhood. Every couple of months we’d get to have breakfast with different
beer soaked loser. Each of them was a potential serial killer. Eventually,
drinking would lead to fighting which led to retraining orders. Before the ink
was dry she’d be on to her next dream date.
I lost it. I
stopped being nice. I could not, would not lie about what a godawful mess we
were living through. I was defiant and I was miserable.
Lately, things had
been bad. Mom’s new boyfriend Todd was a total asshole. He painted cars. He
thought he was hot shit. He threatened to be beat me up at diner over a piece
of fried chicken. Mom loved it.
Now I had to deal
with the fallout from this pen bullshit. I didn’t know how I could have fucked
up so bad but nothing about that morning should have come as a surprise. It was
always going to be something.
I missed the
school bus which meant I had to take the city bus which meant I was going to be
late to school. That would make three violations along with two early outs
since the start of the year. They were going to call my mom. God, I would have
killed for a fucking break.
I thought about it
and decided that if I was going to get into trouble no matter what I did I
might as well do whatever I wanted. I got on the city bus and after three
transfers and ninety minutes I got off on NE 45th street. A quick
walk past George through the quad and I was in Haggit Hall getting stoned by
ten thirty in the morning.
Eric was my best
friend from high school. He graduated last summer and was living in the dorms
at the University of Washington. His roommate killed himself a week into class
so Eric got to keep the double room to himself to help with his pain and suffering.
As morbid as it may seem the situation was kind of awesome. The kid hadn’t
moved in. He checked in took a look around went home and offed himself. He and
Eric never met..
I know it is a sin
to delight in the suffering of others. This was delighting in the unanticipated
byproduct of someone else’s suffering.
We laughed like ghouls about it. That was probably wrong.
I met Eric when I
was a freshman in high school. He had just transferred in from California. All
the cliques had already formed and he was left out in the cold, not that he
minded. Eric thought that his fellow students were and most people are ignorant
amoral jerks who lead lives guided by self-obsession. I couldn’t agree more.
The bully alpha
male from my old neighborhood thought it was hilarious that my mom was a whore.
I told him to fuck off so. He wanted to kick my ass so bad. But, he had to
catch my ass first. Donny was twice as big as me and a couple years older.
There was no way I could beat him so I avoided him. He was a stoner so he spent
all his time at the smoke tree or in metal shop. Most of us kids smoked pot but
vast majority of us knew not to draw attention to ourselves. Stoners didn’t
care. As long as I didn’t go near the gym our paths wouldn’t cross.
The safest place
was the library. It’s where I met Eric. He would spend his lunches in the back
chewing on a sandwich while reading a sci-fi novel. I could care less about
space dragons but we got along.
His parents were
college professors at different schools.
Burien was middle ground and made sense before his folks got divorced
immediately after moving to town. His dad moved to Tacoma and his mom kept the
house. There was no drama. They were just so matter of fact that Eric had to
wonder if anyone really cared about anything other their own pursuit of
happiness.
We had solitude in
common. Both of us had very little supervision or interaction growing up. It’s
always easier being alone. He was just about the only person who didn’t feel
like a stranger.
Lunch was the time
I didn’t feel like a catatonic zombie. I was doing horrible in school. I
couldn’t concentrate surrounded by so much stress. I worried that others could
sense my insecurity so I became aloof, bordering on invisible. My greatest goal
was to go unnoticed. Lunch was all I had.
When Gina joined
sophomore year our triumvirate had achieved perfection. She was loud and
rambunctious. Teenage girls are bitches and Gina was the poorest of the poor
white trash. When a girl in Algebra told her she could smell her va-Gina. Gina
glared at her. When she told Gina to take a bath Gina beat her with a text
book. It was legend.
She wasn’t a beefy
softball player type. She was a little pixie with a self-styled haircut, but
she was wiry like a featherweight. The
three of us were inseparable in and out of school. Even after Donny dropped out
(Thank God, what a fucking prick. Jesus hates you Donny. You piece of shit) and
I could once again walk the halls in peace I spent all of my free time at a
wood table behind the magazine stacks.
I think instinct
brought us together. The same way you can meet someone and not like them before
they even utter a word you meet people you like the same way. Whether it’s
chemical or some sense of psychic compatibility I do not know but we all
clicked.
Then Eric
graduated and Gina dropped out over the summer. Eric was real smart. He was
into quantum physics and experimental mathematics. I did not even pretend to
understand any of it. For him to go to college was a forgone conclusion. Gina
wound up on the streets squatting with a bunch of kids. That always seemed
likely. I didn’t know what the hell was going to happen to me.
Eric was at class
so I camped out in the hallway. He let his Reaganite dad fill out his housing
application and as a result found himself on a floor full of ROTC meatheads.
Apparently he does not know that his son is a super nerd anarchist. They grunted
when they passed by.
I began to wonder if they found me offensive
and if so what part me bothered them the most. My hair was long but not stoner heavy metal
long. I wore a trench coat covered in punk rock buttons that expressed my inner
beliefs. Maybe it’s because I didn’t tuck my legs in and they had to step over
me.
I was relieved
when I saw Eric and stood up to greet him. He looked me in the face and I am
sure he saw a man who had been through hell. “Wanna get high?” he asked.
“If I say I love
you out in here in the hallway will your neighbors think we’re lovers?”
Eric laughed and
pushed the door open. “Shut up and get in the room.”
The whole floor
thought Eric was weird. He was so obviously out of place. They didn’t drink,
smoke, play music, or party in any way. They studied and did pushups. They were
god fearing republican uber menschen. As best we could figure they thought Eric
was a satan worshipping homosexual who most likely has taken part in at least
one ritual sacrifice. I think they were too afraid of him to fuck with him.
Eric tucked a
towel under the door and cracked his window. He turned on the stereo and the
Thompson Twins filled the room with an accented moan. Eric had a conniption and
reached for the tuner.
“That was awful.
I’m sorry you had to hear that.” Eric apologized and slapped in a cassette. “I
can’t listen to the radio anymore. It’s all fake. New wave is the worst.
They’re so serious in their artificiality. It seemed smart but now it’s just
corporate.”
Bauhaus droned out
of the speakers. Eric loaded his little green plastic bong took a big hit and
passed it to me. There with a lighter in my hand while smoke slowly curled
around lip of the pipe, I took the opportunity to reply.
“First of all,
this music is the reason your neighbors think you kill cats. Secondly, most new
wave sucks but what are the alternatives? Top forty? Have you forgotten about
Toto? Do you want to go back to that? Do you want to bless the rains down in
Africa?”
Eric was waving at
me with his hand and motioning to the bong. “Smoke.” He was trying to hold his
breath but squeaked out a word. “You’re letting the smoke out.” He knows
priorities.
I got high and
told Eric all about my morning. He knew I was dealing with a lot of bullshit
and let me vent. Eventually I just threw my hands up in the air and I was done.
I couldn’t dwell on it anymore.
Changing the
subject, Eric mentioned that Gina had spent the night at his place the day
before and had done so a few times. I had often worried about the two of them
hooking up. I convinced myself it was because I was concerned about the whole
friend dynamic. Actually, I had an enormous crush on Gina. She was the only
girl I ever thought about. I felt a green streak of jealousy when I asked
jokingly if they had done it and was relieved when I found out they didn’t.
Neither Eric nor I
would ever make a move on Gina. It was against the rules. Then again, if she
were to choose one of us it was understood that we would both go for it. I’m
sure Gina knew it too. I hoped it would be me.
Mid-morning
drifted into early afternoon and I asked Eric if he had class to go to. I
didn’t want to leave and was hoping I could stay awhile.
“I have a
pointless class at,” He strained his neck to look for the clock, “now.” He
slumped back into his seat. “I’m not going. It’s an English class. I see no
reason why I should have to take it. I came to school to do science things. An
engineer need not be an essayist. A violinist need not dissect a frog.
Obviously, I already know how to read and write. I got accepted here after all.
Other than to reinforce skills I already possess it is a complete waste of my
time. Also, they don’t take role. I just have to turn in a paper a week and I’m
good. “
Then in an abrupt
change of thought Eric asked, “Do you want to get nachos? I know where we can
get nachos. Let’s get more high and get some nachos.”
We both giggled
like little girls which made us laugh like maniacs. We shuffled to the hub like
blurry eyed fools. I don’t even remember getting food but there is was before
us, salty tortilla chips and ultra-processed fake orange cheese. It was so good.
I used the sharp edge of a chip to scrape the congealed sauce from sides if the
carton basket.
It was getting
dark and I knew I had to leave. My buzz was wearing off. As it was it’d be a
least seven o’clock before I got home. Everyone was already pissed off at me. I
shouldn’t make it worse. I figured I’d plead my case. After all, the whole
scenario is ridiculous. I’d apologize for everything including missing school
and promise to do better. I’d convinced myself that even though the tension at
home would be unbearable for a minute but it would fade.
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