Riding Standing Up

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Riding Standing Up Page 22

by Sparrow Spaulding


  “Melts in your mouth, not in your hands,” he would say and then laugh. It wasn’t the worst nickname, I guess, and he certainly didn’t mean any harm by it, but I didn’t tell Ed for a long time because I was afraid he would knock his block off. One Saturday we were over at Drake’s hanging out, and he put a porno in the VCR when we were in the other room. When we went back into the living room and Ed realized what was on he flipped his lid.

  “Get that shit off the TV, my girl’s here!” he yelled at Drake. Everyone always backed down to Ed. He could be very intimidating when he wanted to, and wasn’t afraid of conflict, which made me worship him even more.

  Things continued to grow between Ed and me. I could tell he got shit from his family for dating me but he handled it well. He often went into protector mode when he was around me which made me feel like a princess. If we were out to dinner and my knife was dull he would call over the waiter in an instant and ask for a new knife. If I coughed once he would skid the car into the first store that appeared and buy me cough drops. The only other person who ever looked out for me that much was Grandpa Johnny, who made me wear ear plugs and a nose plug every time I went in the pool when I was little, and bundled me up in sixteen layers when it was cold outside. I hated all those things but felt loved by him and this was that same feeling.

  I was happy. What made me even happier was when Ed told me he was moving to Maine.

  “What?” I threw my arms around his neck. “That’s wonderful!” Finally, my other half would be close by and I would see him on a regular basis. His job was over an hour away, but we would make it work. He was going to be taking care of horses, his other passion beside planes. The pay was a lot less than driving, but room and board was included, and he would be closer to me.

  Things were great for a while even though I didn’t get to see him as much as I had hoped. The horses required a lot of work and he had traded the Delta in for a jeep, which always seemed to break down. But we tried. Ed had even gotten a typewriter and typed letters to me as a way to practice writing since it wasn’t his strong suit. I enjoyed getting his letters which he later told me would take him hours to type. They were plastered with correction fluid but I cherished them. It proved he was thinking of me.

  Chapter 22

  The New Year rolled around and things were good. My grades were up, I wasn’t hanging out with Jess anymore which meant I wasn’t partying. I’d still swipe a cigarette from Mom here and there but otherwise I wasn’t smoking or drinking other than an occasional beer with Ed. Mom had finally given in and bought me a used piano that I played tirelessly. I had even started taking real, formal lessons from the school’s music teacher, Mrs. LaSalle, after school on Fridays. I was writing song after song for Ed, though I was too shy to ever tell him or play for him.

  Mom and Larry were off my back for the most part, which was a relief. Having Ed in the picture made them treat me a little better, or at least in a more grown-up manner. I wasn’t arguing with anyone, and I was doing lots to keep the house picked up since I never knew when Ed would be coming over. Mom had given up any kind of cleaning a few years back and Larry had all but given up trying to keep his house intact after we moved in, so unless I did it nothing got done. I tried talking to them about Doodie’s playpen but they ignored me. Doodie was four and didn’t play with her baby toys anymore, so Mom put them all in her playpen which was in the corner of the living room. It wouldn’t have been a big deal except there were so many toys piled outrageously high they almost touched the ceiling. Besides it being a total eyesore I was worried that Doodie would try to grab a toy and have twenty more fall down on her head. Every time I started going through them Mom yelled at me saying, “Leave it, I’ll get to those.” I knew she never would but I wasn’t going to argue.

  Mom still had her meltdowns on occasion but I kept my distance and distracted my sisters when necessary. Larry had backed off leering at me because Ed intimidated him in some way— either that or Ed pissed on some furniture in my house when no one was looking. I wouldn’t have put it past him.

  “Hey dahlin,’” Ed said as I got into the jeep. He had just picked me up from my piano lesson and we were going to spend the evening together. I hated riding in the jeep because it had a soft top and the passenger side door was broken, so I had to hold it in place the whole time we were moving. It was a two-hand job so I couldn’t hold Ed’s hand while we were driving around, and the jeep was so loud it was hard to carry on a conversation.

  “So, I have some news for you,” Ed said. He sounded nervous.

  “What is it?” I asked, feeling my chest tighten. I was good at reading him and I could tell something was off.

  “Remember how we talked about moving to Florida once you graduate high school?”

  “Yes.” My heart sank.

  “Well, I’m gonna go first and get a place for us, so when you graduate in June you can just head on down.”

  “Oh, really? When are you planning to do this?” There was no response so I asked again. “When are you planning this, Edward?”

  “Next week.” His voice was low and he was looking straight ahead. He didn’t even finish getting the words out when I started beating him with my left hand, suddenly strong enough to hold the door with only my right arm.

  “What the fuck, Ed? Are you outta your mind?” I screamed as my tiny fist pummeled him. “I hate you, you asshole! How can you do this to us?” I was punching him and crying, big heaving sobs until he grabbed my arm to stop me from hitting him.

  “Hey, hey… it’s okay,” he said. “I’m not gonna desert you. I promise. It’s just a few months. It’ll be fine, babe.”

  I wasn’t buying it for a second. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. My life was going so good, for the first time ever, it seemed. I had let myself get close to Ed and now he was leaving. I wanted to spit on him, light him on fire. How dare he toy with my emotions? Didn’t he know what I’d been through? Didn’t he know how hard it was for me to love and trust people? I endured the rest of the ride in silence, holding that door. I kept envisioning jumping out of the jeep so I tried to distract myself with other thoughts, like how I would get Ed to change his mind about moving and leaving me. I was too upset to come up with anything brilliant, but I would keep working on it.

  “Can you take me home, please?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  I knew I needed to go hole up in my room and have a good cry. I had to get this out of me, so I could move on and feel human-ish again. And I wanted to punish him for ruining my Friday. I wasn’t going to spend the evening with him and pretend nothing was wrong. I was never a great pretender, anyway.

  I later found out more details about this big move, which was Drake’s brilliant idea. He had some friends down in Florida who were making a shitload of money doing construction and had said Drake and Ed could come and crash with them for a while until they found jobs and an apartment. I was even more upset upon hearing this because Drake was a druggie and I didn’t want Ed living with him. I yelled and cried and pleaded to no avail. Ed had made up his mind and he was going.

  Drake’s mom Claire had a small going away party for the boys. Drake was her baby and she was devastated he was leaving. Drake had a girlfriend named Sue who was also bereft, and we three women sat and commiserated about how we didn’t want them leaving. Even though Ed loved me (he finally had told me) I could tell he was excited to go. He had dollar signs in his eyes and was happy to get out of Maine, as most people were. I’m sure he was picturing white sand beaches and piña coladas and who could blame him? Well, I could, because it didn’t involve me.

  Ed promised he would call when he was settled, and he did. I waited for that damn phone to ring for a week — the longest week of my existence. When he finally called I was elated.

  “How’s Florida? Did you get a job yet? How was the drive down?” I had a million questions. He said he didn’t have a job yet but he had a lot of prospects. He was okay with the place they were s
taying and said he would buy some calling cards so we could stay in touch. After he called I was able to scrape my heart off the ground a little and start to believe that maybe he wasn’t abandoning me after all, and that we would be together soon. I imagined jetting off to Florida as soon as graduation was over, regardless of what my parents said. Mom had said I could visit Ed on my spring break which shocked me but put me over the moon. I didn’t know if she was on a pill high or really meant it, but I did let myself get more than a little excited about it. Maybe this move wasn’t as awful as I thought.

  “Hey, Sparrow,” Ed said when I came to the phone. I could tell something was off because he almost never called me by my name.

  “Ed, I know something is wrong. What is it, hon?” I pestered.

  “Hey, so did you ever date a guy named Tom?”

  What? How would he know about Tom? “Ages ago, babe, why?” Why is this coming up?

  “Well, Drake and I are staying at his place and he said he used to date you.”

  I dated Tom in the seventh grade. He was a freshman and we met on the bus. We held hands and once he put his arm around me, but we never even kissed. He graduated two years ahead of me, and came back around my junior year. I went out with him a few times and made out with him once but that was it. I realized he was on drugs and I refused to hang out with him again.

  “Hon, it was nothing. I was in seventh grade.”

  “Well, he says you two hooked up a few times last year. Is that true?”

  “Babe, we never shagged, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “He says you did. By the way, how did you date this piece of shit? He’s a fucking asshole.”

  I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. I had no idea Drake and Tom were friends.

  “Ed, please don’t get upset. He’s not worth it. Let it go,” I begged. Tom was a piece of shit. He had turned into a crack head and I couldn’t believe he was lying and trying to ruin the best thing that ever happened to me.

  “I don’t know if I can let this go, Sparrow. It’s eating at me.” We argued and didn’t hang up on good terms. Was Tom Delgado really going to come between me and my dream man? What were the odds?

  Ed didn’t call for weeks after that. I was upset and felt helpless because he was far away and I didn’t have the number there so I couldn’t call. I felt myself unraveling again which was unacceptable. I had to graduate and couldn’t lapse into some dissociative fugue. I wasn’t going back to hanging out with Jess and I wasn’t going to smoke a bunch of weed; those decisions had already been made. I was writing in my journal more and also writing more songs on the piano, songs that sounded like 16th century madrigals which I found strange since that was not the type of music I listened to. But that’s what came out when I sat down to play. Everything was maudlin and in a minor key.

  When Ed finally did call no one was home so he left a short message on the answering machine. It was the last time I heard from him that year. I could say I was devastated but I didn’t let myself go there. After a few weeks went by my heart closed right back up like a morning glory, or better yet like a Venus flytrap. I knew better than to let my guard down like that and kicked myself for doing so.

  I wasn’t mad at Ed for not calling. Instead I convinced myself I was better off without him. For one thing he didn’t have a high school diploma. How could I be with a guy long-term who wasn’t educated? I decided to let it bother me. I also concluded I didn’t want to be the only girl at the prom with a gray-haired date. Ed had mentioned coming back up so he could take me, and I was a little embarrassed at the prospect. It didn’t matter that I felt the Earth move under my feet when he walked in a room. That was silly nonsense. I needed a guy who graduated high school and who could spell Sacajawea.

  It didn’t take long to find one. To be honest I wasn’t even looking. A boy at school named Chris had his eye on me for months, begging for a date. We were friends and I liked him but not really in that way, plus I’d been Ed’s girl and was devoted to him. When word got around that I was sort of single and in need of a prom date Chris seized his opportunity.

  “You’re gonna date me,” Chris said as he pushed me up against my locker and planted one on me. He was forceful but not in a disrespectful way. I didn’t kiss back but it didn’t matter. He was making a statement.

  After that moment we were somehow officially dating, which was fine with me. I felt like Chris was a much more logical choice, though I couldn’t recall when I had suddenly become so logical. But he was my age, wanted to be a lawyer, and came from money. And he was totally into me. He liked to smoke cigarettes and drink, but he did so in moderation. He was from a small town outside Boston so he had some swagger. He was shorter and stockier than Ed but I was okay with not being as physically attracted to him. We were friends and it felt safe.

  Mom was surprised that I had a new boyfriend but Chris was also a people magnet so he won her over easily. He had a great sense of humor and he called everyone Joey Bag O’Donuts, so my family started calling him Donut. Larry was out doing his crop dusting and so Mom would let Donut spend weekends at our house. He had a car and we would run errands for Mom; in return she would let us do what we wanted. Typically the errands consisted of running over to New Hampshire to go to Peking, her favorite restaurant, and bringing back enough Chinese food for a small army. Mom had steadily been gaining weight since Doodie was born and didn’t seem to care. She still did her hair and makeup on occasion and looked gorgeous, so I don’t think she minded much that she still looked pregnant. She wore lots of baggy shirts with stretch pants and just kept eating. I’m sure if she felt fat she just popped one of Dr. Robertson’s magic pills, which I always thought would make you lose weight, but not in her case.

  Donut brought a ray of sunshine to my house. Ed was kind and lovable but always reserved. Donut was a spaz who loved to poke, tease and keep everyone laughing. He took a special liking to Punky, perhaps because he noticed she was the quiet middle child. He always made it a point to play with her and engage her in conversation.

  My house was way more modest than his mini-mansion in Gloucester but he never made me feel less than. Much like being with Alex, I felt loved and accepted. It was like hanging out with your best friend. I wasn’t worried if I had something in my teeth or a hair out of place, I could just be a teenager. And he would make the perfect prom date.

  Chris loved nicknames, like everyone in my family. He would hold my face with one hand and press my cheeks together and call me Squishy Face. He was obsessed with my round, full cheeks and pinched them often. It was annoying and at the same time endearing. I loved that he was fixated on something about me. It made me feel the opposite of invisible. He felt about me the way I had felt about Ed, and there was something empowering about that. I also loved that he pursued me for a while. There was no way Chris would have dated another girl while trying to date me. I convinced myself that he was the much better choice.

  * * *

  I surprised myself by being excited to go to the prom. I had found the world’s most perfect dress and couldn’t wait to wear it. It was a dark mauve taffeta strapless dress with sequins and a train. It even came with Audrey Hepburn elbow-length gloves. When I tried it on it fit like a dream. It even made the rosebuds look larger and fuller. The dress had to be mine.

  Mom had actually taken me to the nice mall to go shopping for it, and I was grateful. Unfortunately she had brought the whole family, which was embarrassing but at least she wasn’t breast feeding Doodie anymore so that was a relief. Mom liked the dress too but refused to buy it when she saw it cost one hundred eighty dollars. She said our budget was one hundred dollars for the dress and thirty dollars for the shoes. I was crushed. I wasn’t working and didn’t have any money but I knew I needed this dress in the worst way. It was meant to be on my body. I begged and pleaded but Mom was firm. No meant no.

  I was devastated to leave the mall without my dream dress. I had never shined in school in any way. I never received
an award, never played a sport, never excelled at anything other than French class, but there were no awards for that. I was known for my sense of style and I knew if I got that dress I would have the best dress at prom and my five minutes of fame. I felt like it was owed to me.

  The entire ride home I was concocting plans and schemes in my head that would help me buy that dress. I was going to start with Dad. He and Samantha were pretty generous when it came to clothes and I was sure they’d want me to look my best at my prom. As soon as we arrived home I gave them a call. I described the dress to Samantha, and she thought the dress sounded divine. I had gotten my taste in clothes mainly from her over the years and we almost always liked the same things.

  “Give me the name of the store and I’ll see what I can do,” she said.

  I was hopeful and prayed to Jesus that night that it would all work out.

  Dear Jesus, Please oh please let me be able to wear that dress to my prom. I can’t promise I won’t drink, or smoke, or shag but I can promise to be the most grateful, happy person at the prom. Please, Lord, don’t let me get stuck with some shiny, satin Bo-Peep looking thing that will make me look like a frumpy bridesmaid. I want to have verve and style, like Audrey. S’il vous plaît, Monsieur. Amen.

  I felt guilty praying to God for a dress when there were people starving in Africa, but I couldn’t help myself. I felt like Jesus and I were friends and that he would understand my need to stand out for an evening. I never asked him for much and I was sure he was glad to hear from me since it had been awhile.

  Samantha and Dad came through and bought me the dress. I was overjoyed! It felt like Christmas times a thousand and I couldn’t wait until the dress came in the mail. The only problem was Mom felt upstaged and was pissed they had bought it for me.

  “Leave it to your Dad to save the day,” she said, disgusted with all of us. I was crushed, hoping she’d be happy for me that I’d have my dream dress. Part of me felt a little righteous, though. I had asked her if we could go to the mall by ourselves since I never had any one-on-one time with Mom and she said no. I couldn’t recall one time that Mom and I did anything by ourselves. Once when I was about five Mom said she was going to the macramé store and I asked if I could go. “No, stay here. I’ll be right back,” she told me.

 

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