Riding Standing Up

by Sparrow Spaulding

  Being away from Jess was a huge step in the right direction. I wasn’t skipping school anymore, or living to party and get drunk on weekends. I was beginning to think about my future. I decided I wanted to go to college in Florida, so I could be by the water. Then maybe after I graduated I could spend some time in France. Ed loved that idea and said he would support me any way he knew how. It felt like we were becoming a thing and I was over the moon.

  “Who the hell is calling Boston at all hours of the night?” Larry yelled as he tore through the house, phone bill in hand. Shit. I had forgotten about the phone bill. I had no idea how much it cost to call long distance so many times but evidently it was a lot. “Who are you calling?” he asked again, this time after he burst into my room. I was lying on my bed doing homework and I looked up at him with a blank stare.

  “Is it bad?” I asked. “I thought I only called a few times.”

  “It’s three hundred dollars! And why are you calling anyone at two am?”

  At that point I realized I was going to have to tell the truth. I hated lying anyway, not to mention I felt like things with Ed and me were getting pretty serious and I wanted the world to know, even if my world contained a few trolls.

  “The truth is I have a new boyfriend and he lives in Boston. I’m sorry about the phone bill. I’ll be more careful in the future.” I tried to sound respectful and business-like because I was so sick of the drama. Perhaps if I apologized he would calm down and discuss it rationally. No such luck.

  “You are forbidden from using the phone! You’re grounded!” Larry screamed, slamming the door on his way out. Too bad he was back from his crop dusting season because Mom would have paid the bill without even looking at it. This time of year was always the pits since Larry felt the need to assert himself as the authority in the house because he was gone for most of the spring and summer, kind of like a dog that lifts his leg on the same chair or attacks other dogs to assert dominance. Larry needed to be the wolf in charge.

  “What’s this I hear about a new guy?” Mom asked when she heard about the phone bill.

  “Yeah, I met him over the summer. He’s great,” Mom wasn’t involved in my life but she was still nosy.

  “What happened to Trent?”

  “We broke up, Mom. It happens.”

  “Oh. I thought you really liked him,” Mom said, disappointed. The truth was Mom liked Trent because he had an Italian last name. As a matter of fact when Larry was gone she sometimes let him spend the night on weekends. More than once he slept in my room and Mom either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She knew we were doing it because she asked.

  “Does he have an Italian schlong?”

  That was Mom after a few drinks mixed with her pills.

  “Mom! How would I know? He’s my first Italian boy.” I was horrified that we were talking about the size of my boyfriend’s dick.

  “Well, typically Italian boys are well-endowed, and they usually aren’t circumcised.”

  “Mom, stop!” Trent was circumcised but Mom didn’t need to know. I had seen an uncircumcised penis once on this guy named Trey. I was in Alabama at chubby cousin Darla’s wedding. Some guys at the rehearsal dinner asked if I wanted to go to a party and I said yes. So off I went with six boys, several of them groomsmen. After the party a few of them wanted to go cow tipping. Being an East Coast girl that was new to me but I was tipsy and game, though I never actually tipped a cow because that’s just too goddamned mean. Instead Trey and I went off to make out and next thing I knew he’s whipping his pants off and there it was, basking in the moonlight— a shiny pink miniature elephant trunk that shimmered under a bright moonbeam.

  “Would you like to touch it?” Trey asked, as if his dick were a real treasure, like a newborn panda or a congressional medal of honor.

  “Oh, no thanks,” I replied, trying to sound gracious as if someone were offering me pickled herring and I didn’t want to offend that person by saying I loathed pickled herring. I may have been a bit more curious if I had felt better, but things started spinning and I felt a pain in my stomach. Oh no, here it comes. I heaved a few times and then it all came up— every French fry and tequila shot I had ingested that evening. I mostly puked on the ground between us but I definitely sprayed Trey and me, including my legs and his crotch. Orange, chunky, smelly puke. Why is it orange for fuck’s sake? Oh yeah, ketchup.

  “God, I’m so sorry,” I said as I wiped my face with the back of my hand.

  “It’s okay.” Trey jumped up and put his Jackson Pollocked trunk away in record time. “Maybe some other time. Let’s get you home.” He walked me to the car and helped me in. Those poor, sweet cows, was all I could think before I closed my eyes and passed out.

  “Mom, I did like Trent. It’s just that I met someone I like more.” Mom sat on my bed to hear more which was something she never did. Mom never came in my room, at least not when I was in it. She wasn’t angry about the phone bill and she appeared genuinely interested in what was going on in my love life. She had probably just popped a pill or three, but I decided to spill it anyway.

  “Mom, Ed’s a little bit older than me but we’ve talked about it and we are both okay with it. He’s responsible, mature and he really likes me.”

  “How old is he, Sparrow?”

  Here goes.

  “He’s twenty-three, Mom.”

  “What? No, Sparrow, that’s too old.” Mom got up from my bed and went right back into control freak mode.

  So much for a mother-daughter moment.

  “You need to end it with him immediately,” she added as she wagged her finger in my face.

  “Mom, I’m not doing that,” I replied, calmly. I was enjoying my new found self-control. I was going to stand my ground without yelling, screaming or insulting anyone. At least I was going to try.

  “I’m not having this discussion with you,” Mom said. “You’re giving me chest pains!”

  And with that she turned and left, no doubt to pop yet another Xanax or light a cigarette. Probably both. Leave it to Mom to melt over something so minor. I wasn’t pregnant or on heroin. I wondered what Dr. Robertson would have prescribed if I had been.

  Mom couldn’t deal with the reality of my new love interest so she sent Larry into my room to do her dirty work. Twice in one day! Larry typically never entered my room because he wasn’t allowed. Once he had come upstairs to use the bathroom in the middle of the night and had opened the door to my room to discover I had sneaked out. This was something I did on occasion until junior year My room was on the second floor and I would carefully climb through my window, hang by my hands and jump to the ground. These were evenings I couldn’t barricade my door because I wouldn’t be able to get back in. I was in massive trouble when I came home but the critical part was the fact that Larry was peeking into my room in the first place. My mind went to dark places based on past experiences.

  “What’s this I hear about you dating an older man?” Larry asked.

  “What about it?” I replied, not looking up from my book.

  “An older guy like that only wants to get in your pants, Sparrow! He doesn’t care about you.”

  “He’s not like that. He really does care.”

  “Bullshit! Wake up, he’s using you. You’re not allowed to date him, do you hear me?” Larry slammed the door as he left.

  Normally I would have gotten up off my bed and fought back, saying shocking and hurtful things like, “Well, he already got in my pants and he’s still calling so I guess I’m good at something!” or, “Did you ever consider that maybe I wanna get in his pants?” But I refrained. I wanted to take this seriously and knew that I would have to be the mature one. I couldn’t let my temper get in the way because I wanted Ed to be able to pick me up and actually date me. I wouldn’t have even told Larry and Mom how old he was except for the fact that he actually looked thirty-three not twenty-three and if I didn’t mention it they would have freaked out on a whole different level, probably calling the police a
nd finally hauling my ass off to juvie.

  “So, my parents freaked out when I told them how old you are,” I told Ed one night on the phone. “They think you just want to get in my pants.”

  “Oh no, really? That sucks. Why don’t I spend some time with your parents when I see you and explain my intentions.”

  I was shocked he would even put himself in that position. Maybe this guy really does care for me, I thought. He sure was acting like it. I was working on Mom, telling her nice things Ed said to me here and there, but she wasn’t buying it. I couldn’t believe that with all the freak show moments my family had they would overreact to the age difference. Mom went on about how Dr. Robertson and Donald both thought it was a horrible idea for me to date someone so much older. I wondered what they would think if they knew he was divorced with two kids, but I would have slit my wrists before telling her that. They probably would have chained me up in the basement or God knows what. I wasn’t about to find out.

  Not long after that conversation I sat Mom and Larry down and told them I had something to discuss with them. I’m sure at least one of them thought I was pregnant, especially since Mom refused to let me take birth control pills, even though my periods were horrid and she knew I was doing it on occasion.

  “Use a condom like we do,” Mom said once when I was nagging her about it. She and Larry used Trojan Lambskin condoms and I knew this because for one thing I snooped and found them and for another thing she used to get them at the local Shop and Save along with our weekly groceries. She threw them in the cart right alongside the milk and Devil Dogs. I guess Larry was too afraid to get his balls cut.

  “Ed would like us to invite him over so he can meet you both and explain that he is not just looking to get in my pants.” I could tell they were both surprised by this request. “If you don’t like him after meeting him then we can talk, but I think you owe it to me to give him a chance.”

  “I don’t know...” Larry shook his head. I think Mom’s curiosity got the better of her.

  “I think it would be okay if we had him over for dinner, don’t you, Larry?”

  Larry thought for a moment.

  “Fine, but he’s not taking you anywhere. You two are staying here.”

  “Sure, no problem,” I said as I darted off to my room to call Ed and tell him. I had a secret phone I had found in Punky’s closet that I was able to plug into the phone jack in my room. I knew I’d be found out at some point, but at the time I was in the clear.

  I was nervous the day Ed was coming to meet my parents. I spent the majority of the day doing dishes, vacuuming and picking up toys. I scrubbed the bathroom. I was thankful I had just painted the bathroom ceiling since it had turned completely green from mold since the fan in the bathroom broke and Larry never bothered to fix it. I had watched as the mold started as a small patch in one corner of the ceiling, and then spread until it covered the whole damned thing. I asked Mom if we were going to get sick and die because I’d heard of molds killing people, plus I was allergic to penicillin which is a type of mold. Mom insisted people only got sick from black mold and this was green so it wouldn’t bother us. When I took a shower with the door closed it felt like I was trapped inside a moldy loaf of Wonder bread and I imagined the mold getting into my lungs and leaving spores that would spread and take over until one day I collapsed. The alternative, showering with the door open, was totally unacceptable. I preferred to take my chances with the mold.

  Ed came in through the back door and shook Mom’s hand. Mom had put on a fancy sweater and a full face of makeup and was talking in a syrupy voice that I hadn’t heard in eons.

  “Hi Ed, nice to meet you. Would you like a beer?” she asked.

  “Uh, no thank you,” he replied, shooting me a puzzled look.

  What was Mom up to, I wondered. She caught us looking at one another and said, “Well, he is old enough, Sparrow.” I ignored her and offered Ed a seat at the breakfast bar, which was our only table. It was a double-sided bar with three stools on each side and it separated the kitchen from the living room. Larry had made the bar himself by cutting a section out of the wall and putting a giant slab of wood in that he had stained and lacquered. The table was shiny but the wood was easily dented being pine, so every time someone wrote on a piece of paper while sitting at the breakfast bar it was forever etched into the table. I was the first to recognize this and several years earlier had spent hours writing profanities on pieces of paper pressing real hard, knowing they would be carved into the table forevermore. Larry soon noticed and was upset but it was entirely his fault. He should have sprung for a harder wood. Thank goodness for placemats.

  Mom made a pasta dish for dinner which reminded me of my birthday with Morris and how he was my first real date. Edward was my second older man. He hadn’t brought me flowers like dear Morris but he did do a great job of fielding questions from Mom and Larry. He told them about his job as a truck driver, all about living in Boston and most important, what his intentions were.

  “I really like your daughter and I’d like to date her,” he told both of them. His candor caught them off guard and neither knew how to respond. “I know we have a slight age difference but I think we can all be mature and get past it,” he added.

  “You seem like a nice guy, Ed, but we’ll have to think it over,” Larry said, as if his opinion mattered one iota.

  “I understand,” Edward replied, unfazed.

  I chose to ignore their back and forth because Ed was handling himself like a champ. It made me like him even more, especially since I could just sit back and let him handle stuff like that. I didn’t have to be on the alert or defend myself in any way. I could relax and just be. This was a brand new experience.

  As the night wore on Edward won my family members over one by one. He helped clear dishes. He played with Doodie. He chatted with Punky. He even engaged Larry in conversation about flying since his dream was to someday become a pilot.

  “I like your family,” Ed said when I walked him to his car later on.

  “Are you joking? You don’t have to say that.” I was embarrassed that he had witnessed the freak show.

  “No, they’re pretty nice. I can tell your step dad is leery of me, though. He kept looking at me sideways.”

  “I’m sorry.” I thought of ways to torture the troll later. I had been meaning to get my hands on some Nair for his shampoo, since he was always concerned about his ever-growing bald spot. The thought of hearing screams from the shower and envisioning clumps of hair rushing down the drain eased my anxiety.

  “Trust me; I can handle a guy like that. Don’t you worry,” he said as he kissed my head and gave me a giant bear hug, lifting me off the ground. “I’ll call soon.” Ed hopped in his car and took off, leaving me standing in an ethereal mix of oxytocin and exhaust fumes.

  I never knew what soon meant but I stayed on that head-kiss high for days afterward. I couldn’t believe I had finally met my soul mate only to suffer the fate of him living hours away. Why was the universe so cruel?

  After that pivotal day was when the longing started. I thought about Edward Joseph McCue twenty-four hours a day. I floated through my days in a state of bliss that would have made Eros himself throw up in his mouth a little. Instead of writing murder plots or I-hate-you letters in my dear diary I started writing love poems. Me, the girl who insisted that anyone who wrote poetry was either bipolar or schizophrenic. My poems were beyond sappy. They all rhymed perfectly which was a dead giveaway that I wasn’t meant to be a poet, much like how Dad was never meant to be a surgeon.

  Ed started calling more. And coming to visit.

  “Hey, I’m gonna come see you this weekend,” he said one Sunday night on the phone. I was up late coloring various drawings of a cell for anatomy and Ed was staying on the phone with me until I got it done.

  “That seems like so far away!” I couldn’t wait to see his face and smell him again and run my fingers through his baby fine hair and stare into his blue lagoons
and count the endless freckles on his forearms. But I had to wait an entire week; how would I deal?

  “It’ll go by before you know it. Just make sure your parents let you out of your cage, okay?”

  “I’ll take care of it,” I promised before hanging up, which was always an ordeal. It usually took us at least ten minutes to end a call and it was both our faults. We hated hanging up and Ed always tried to make me hang up first but I never could, at least not before six or seven times which probably made it all the more painful.

  I have read that it takes seven times to quit an addiction and I completely believe it, because I was already addicted to Ed, but that was an addiction I was perfectly happy keeping. The Marlborough Lights could take a hike.

  Chapter 20

  I breezed through the week, ecstatic that I was going to see Ed on Friday. The truth is I labored through painfully picking off the days, hours, and sometimes minutes. Mom gave in and said he could pick me up and take me on a real date. I’m not sure how she convinced Larry but I didn’t dare ask because I was too smart to rock the boat.

  I planned my outfit days in advance and made sure my eyebrows were perfect. After an intense round of plucking to turn thick, Italian caterpillars into thin, Asian butterfly antennae, I sprayed my brow brush with Mink, the best hair spray ever in those days, and expertly brushed them into place. Those things weren’t going to move all night, no matter what kind of shenanigans I got up to.