Often in the last few weeks I’ve had to make dashes to the bathroom—at school, at home, or wherever—but this…I had ABSOLUTELY NO CONTROL. I jumped up and started squeezing my way down the row, facing people so I could push them away. As I got to the aisle, I was so humiliated I wanted to faint, disappear, die…die…die…
Sixteen-year-old women do not wet their pants in a movie theater with nineteen of their friends around them. It took all the control I could muster to keep from bawling out loud. Thank everything good for the darkness.
I got to the door of the lobby, but there was no way I could go out there. There were gobs of people milling around at the candy counter, including El and Dan. I had one mad moment of wondering what would happen if I crashed the Exit door. Maybe they’d turn on the house lights and EVERYONE, EVERYONE IN THE WHOLE PLACE, WOULD WITNESS MY HUMILIATION…MY PAIN, MY SHAME. There was no way I could handle that.
In spite of my fears, I dashed for the Exit door. It opened with no big problem except starting some blinking lights and strange buzzing, but by that time I didn’t care. I was in the alley and running toward a bunch of trash cans and cardboard boxes. Without a second thought, I crept into the stinking mess and curled up as small as I could and close to the ground.
I could hear two male voices cursing in the distance, saying that a stupid kid probably had tried to let in some buddies for free…then all became quiet. I had no idea of what I was going to do, but I knew that there was no way I would leave my hidey-hole until I was sure the kids had all left the movie. I peeked out and could see that a line for the next show was beginning to queue up, so I knew it wouldn’t be long. Trying not to breathe in case Lew or some of the others came looking for me, I stayed absolutely quiet.
After a little while, I began to hear soft, moving noises. They got louder and louder, scratching in paper and squeaking. Automatically I knew there were RATS in and around the cans! My heart fluttered and vomit spurted up in my throat. I told myself again that I wouldn’t move, no matter what, but when I felt something scurry across my leg, I couldn’t bear it and hurriedly squeezed out from between the cans.
Hugging the black wall, I dashed for the opposite end of the alley, which looked miles away. Once on the street, I noticed it was much dimmer lit than Main Street, where the movie house was, and there was very little traffic. I wondered if any cabby in his right mind would stop for a kid who probably looked like she’d just crawled out of a garbage heap, because she had.
The only thing good was I’d crawled through something brown, so you couldn’t tell that…you know…that was soooooooo horrific. I wish I knew an even more horrible word…sitting there in Lew’s arms and realizing what was happening. Oh, dear God, I hope I jumped up in time so the seat wasn’t all wet. Ruining my pants I can take, but…please, please…don’t let anyone else know.
Anyway, after forever a cab came by and stopped. I was waving hysterically and was halfway out into the street—not caring if I got hit or not, actually hoping in a way that I would get hit; then I wouldn’t need explanations or apologies or anything. This way…I don’t know…this is worse than AIDS or anything!
I will thank you God, forever, for having Mom make me keep a ten-dollar bill in my purse at all times. I’ve kept one curled up for years in my little zipper pocket and never needed it UNTIL NOW!
Oh, thank you, Mom; thank you, God. Thank you both.
The cabby thought I’d been date-dumped in the garbage cans in the alley, and he wanted to take me to the police station or the rape center, but I said I had to go home first, and my mom would take me.
He was a nice, caring man who had three daughters of his own, and he made me promise I’d go and not take a bath or anything so they could check the guy’s semen, which, he said, is as reliable as a fingerprint, isn’t that weird?
Thank goodness Mom wasn’t home. Maybe I’ll tell her tomorrow…maybe I won’t.
Oh yes, I had enough common sense to call El’s mom.
I told her I’d gotten sick in the movie and come home in a cab. She said El had just called her from the movie and that she’d call her back and explain. I’m so grateful she didn’t scold me or lecture me or any of that other mother stuff that is so brain-frying.
First I came home and showered and washed my hair and put my clothes in a plastic bag; then I cried all my tears out, and wrote all my heart out. Now, now I’ll just…what? There are no more tears and there are no solutions…I think I’ll take two or three aspirin or Tylenol or whatever Mom has in her medicine cabinet. I’ve got to escape some way.
Dear Mary, Mother of God, please listen to me. No one in the whole world has ever been in such deep anguish…please…please.
12:21 A.M.
It is a miracle. My prayers really were heard. Right at the point where I honestly thought I was going to disintegrate or something from the pain, the phone rang. It was dear, caring, thoughtful Lew. He was surprised when I answered, and he told me how bad he felt that my birthday party had been ruined by something I’d eaten or whatever. I told him I’d been upchucking and upchucking, but that I felt a lot better now that he had called. That one little tiny, weenie part was true.
I told him I hoped the kids had gone on with the party and that I hadn’t spoiled everything for them. He said they had as soon as El’s mom called back and said I was all right.
It was so wonderful to hear him and to know that no one knew about my…accident. I was glad they were all dancing to the little combo from El’s dad’s office and having all the fun they were entitled to.
I wanted Lew to stay on the phone forever, but he said I had to go back to bed and rest. I can do that too, because his last words were, “Take care of yourself, my little Nancy, because you are sacredly precious to me.” Isn’t that beautiful from a sixteen-year-old boy? Elizabeth Barrett Browning, move over. “Sacredly precious.” Those two beautiful words beautifully put together are emblazoned on my heart in pastel neon permanently.
Monday, May 13
10:13 A.M.
I was almost happy to go see Dr. S. this morning. I was hoping he’d be able to do something about the kidney thing, but he was so busy, one of the nurses took care of me. It seems like every time I go to his office there are more and more people, but that, of course, is just paranoid me. I’m getting more and more paranoid about everything in life! Anyway, the nurse just gave me a box of Depends and told me to use them till I got to see Dr. S. I thought I’d die right there. Diapers, me? Me, sixteen years and two days old? Only old, old, old people and little babies wear diapers! I wouldn’t do it. I simply wouldn’t. I refused to even take them from her hand and walked out.
Mom was in the waiting room, and I told her everything was fine. What a great liar I’ve become.
12:57 P.M.
Mom dropped me off at the apartment because I said I was exhausted. The phone was ringing when I walked in, and I don’t know why I picked up the phone, because I certainly didn’t feel like talking to anyone, but I did anyway.
I can’t understand why Dorie has to see me immediately. She says it’s really, really, important. I do hope nothing bad is happening to her or the baby after all this time, or to Jake. He’s been her next-door neighbor since before they were born, and he’s more like a brother than anything. He’s been so protective of her; even at the party when everyone was playing Pretty or Ugly, he pretended he just wanted to sit and watch so she would. I’ve got some really dear friends here. I guess maybe I can stand what I have to stand.
Actually, Self, I haven’t even been absolutely honest with you. I’ve been sort of…wetting the bed for the last couple of weeks. It’s been too embarrassing to even admit, but I guess I might as well. I have to get up and change my bedclothes and put them in the washer with a lot of Clorox bleach and stuff. You know…body fluids…and all that. I worry about “body fluids” and the movie thing too. What if…oh, how I wish I could contact someone who knows something every time I have a question.
But skip r
eality. I’ve got to go into fantasy to save my sanity. A buttercupped meadow, me and Lew, nothing else through endless time…
3:45 P.M.
Dorie pushed her way in as soon as I’d opened the door. It was obvious she had run all the way from the bus stop like demons were chasing her. Once she got inside the door, we hugged each other like we would never let go, and we cried and cried, mixed tears of joy and tears of sorrow. My fears and joys were hers and hers were mine. We were one in our friendship. It was both splendid and sad at the same time.
After a while we just sat on the floor and looked at each other. I knew she had something to say, but it wouldn’t come out. Finally, in the voice and posture of a guru or someone who could control both our emotions, she quietly told me why she was there. It was like she was someone else detached from the whole thing and so was I.
It seems Delta suspected what had happened when I jostled out of the row and up the aisle. And when the movie was over and the lights were up, she pretended she’d left her purse and went back and touched the seat. It was wet! The rest of the evening she and Marcie completely ignored the other kids at the party and sat in corners or huddled together giggling.
By Sunday afternoon EVERYBODY in town was whispering about my having “wet my pants” in the movie and having gone home, later telling everybody that I’d gotten sick.
At first it was like Dorie was talking about some other poor, helpless kid; then it hit me, and I collapsed in a heap. Dorie felt terrible, but she had felt she had to tell me, and she was right. It was much better and kinder than…than…whatever else there was to do. She helped me get to bed, gave me an aspirin and left.
Dear Self, no one in the whole world has ever been so embarrassed and humiliated. Oh, dear God, I want to die now, not weeks from now, or months from now, or even years from now. Please, please, God, let me die this very minute. I can bear the pain, but I can’t bear the shame. I am soooooo alone and helpless. No one in the world is sooooo alone and helpless.
Thursday, May 16
6:30 P.M.
I have not been out of my room for three days, and I will not let Mom open my drapes. I want it black on the outside of me. As black as it is on the inside of me, black and filled with nothing nothingness. My mind is black and stuck and won’t work. It’s protective in there, and I’m going to keep it that way.
Mom offered to take me down to get my driver’s license, but even that doesn’t sound worth doing.
? Day
? Time
I guess it’s been a week or so since…you know. Mom says if I don’t eat they’re going to take me to the hospital and put an IV in me. But I won’t go. No one can make me.
SOMETIME—WHO KNOWS…WHO CARES…
Mom says she’s taking me to Arizona to stay with Dad. That the dry desert air and all the sunshine will make me feel better. I don’t want to go…I WANT TO DIE…but I’m scared…I don’t want to. That’s so dumb. Maybe they will find a cure for AIDS soon. Dr. S. called and said he feels they’re pretty close. He begged me to hang on…. I don’t know if it’s worth it. Do you think it is? Well, okay, I guess I will, then.
9:10 P.M.
Mom keeps begging me to take the kids’ phone calls…but I can’t. I really, honestly can’t! I can’t even talk to Dorie now for some reason. I don’t want to! I won’t! What is there to say?
Sunday, May 19
4:02 P.M.
We’re in Phoenix. I’m exhausted. I had no idea I was so weak. I actually had to be helped on and off the plane.
Wednesday, May 22
10:40 P.M.
Mom’s gone home and Dad has lovingly but firmly told me that if I don’t eat every two hours, he is going to take me directly to the hospital. I don’t want that, so I guess I’ll try. I’ll do it for him. He looks so hurt and sad…and so did Mom. How selfish I’ve been not to think of them one single bit…only myself…always me…me…me. They’ve got pains and strains too.
Saturday, May 25
9:22 A.M.
Maria, Dad’s housekeeper, is really nice. She speaks very little English, and my Spanish is malo. We’re having fun teaching each other. I wish I had listened more carefully and studied harder in my Spanish class.
Mom made a list of all the things I like, and Maria tries hard to fix them, but they all taste a little different than when Mom did it. Anyway, I’m eating every two hours, and I’m walking around the pool and out into the cactus garden. It’s beautiful here, especially in the early morning when the sun comes up. It’s like God’s glorious head is slowly rising up over the mountains. It’s almost sacred. I remember one time Dad took me to an Indian festival. I was really impressed because everything is sacred to them: trees and sand and sun and water and people and animals and even rocks and stuff. Maybe Dad will take me to one again. I hope so.
Wednesday, May 29
12:32 P.M.
I’m feeling so much better I can’t believe it. Maria is having a big Spanish lunch at one o’clock out in the patio. Dad has invited his friend Liz. I can’t wait to meet her, and I can’t wait to eat. I’m starving…starving…starving.
I wonder if Liz is as pretty as Mom, as nice as Mom, as concerned as Mom. Some nasty little part inside me hopes that she isn’t, but I guess that I hope that she is too, for Dad’s sake. I don’t think I can ever like her, but I’ll try. After all, Mom and Dad have been divorced over two years now.
5:02 P.M.
I tried hard not to like Liz, but I like her anyway. She’s just the opposite of Mom, tall and bronze with dark hair and almost black eyes.
After lunch, we put on our swimsuits, and Dad and Liz splashed me when they went into the pool, but no matter how much they coaxed, I wouldn’t go in. I’m not sure about “body fluids” and swimming pools. I wish there was a hot line of some kind. But I won’t think about that!!!
Liz has a beautiful body, and she’s so considerate and respectful of Dad and me and even Maria. It’s like she’s a real lady. Not that Mom isn’t, but Liz is sort of regal or something. When she put on Dad’s robe to go into the house for something, the wide belt was dragging along behind her like a train, and Dad had put some flowers in her hair that looked almost like a crown. I’m afraid I’m going to like her. She has an ad agency, and she’s invited me to come down. In fact, she said she might even find me a part-time job there when I feel better. That made me feel better. Imagine ME with a part-time, wonderful, glorious, glamorous job!
Friday, May 31
2:30 P.M.
I like Liz so much that I almost feel like I’m being unfaithful to Mom. Is that possible? I wonder how much I had to do with their divorce. Again, maybe if I’d been more respectful and not so whiny, if I’d kept my room clean and done my chores, if I’d been nicer and sweeter and prettier, if…if…if.
Lots of questions in life and few answers.
Monday, June 3
2:30 P.M.
Liz just called and wants me to come in tomorrow. She’ll have me interview with her office manager just like any other person.
It’s scary, hairy scary.
What will I wear? How will I fix my hair? Will they like me? Sometimes I can be so dumb and klutsy. I don’t want to embarrass Liz. I don’t want to embarrass Dad. But I guess most of all I don’t want to embarrass myself.
Maybe the office manager will be big and gruff and mean. Maybe she’ll expect someone with lots of experience and confidence. Maybe she’ll hate everything about me…but then, maybe she won’t.
Midnight—Exactly
I’ve laid out my white dress trimmed with navy blue and my navy shoes. That outfit looks most like what Liz would wear. They’ve got to like me…they’ve got to…they’ve got to. If only I didn’t have to wear the damn diaper, but I’d better.
Tuesday, June 4
10:30 A.M.
Dad dropped me by Liz’s office and told me not to worry, but my teeth were rattling as I walked into the building. Liz’s office manager was as sweet and gentle as she is, a
nd within minutes I knew I had the job.
I’m going to be kind of a “gofer,” going for this and for that for anyone in the office and doing some filing and taking the desk while the receptionist takes breaks and stuff. I am so excited and elated, and everything wonderful and happy! Me! Me! With a glamorous job. Who would have thought it could happen? And Dad’s taking me tomorrow to get my driver’s license. Wow!
Thursday, June 27
6:22 P.M.
I’ve been working for 22 glorious days, almost a month! The summer is a third over. I’ve got to start thinking about school. Dad wants me to stay here and Liz says I can work part-time. Mom wants me to go there. I don’t know what I want. I know I don’t want to go back to my old school, but I don’t want to hurt Mom, either. Oh well, I guess I’ll worry about that tomorrow…or next never day. I’ve gotten even worse than Scarlett.
Saturday, June 29
8:30 A.M.
It’s so mag to have my own check. Today I’m going to go out and buy something nice for Mom. I would love to buy something wonderful for Lew and the rest of the gaggle too, but I won’t! That is a distant past part of my old live, like the divorce. I guess in a way I have divorced them. Sometimes those things have to be done!
Tuesday, July 2
6:02 P.M.
Today I had lunch with Adam again. It was funny how we met. He’s mailroom boy for the building and my first day here I was getting off the elevator with my arms full, and he was getting on with his arms full, and we bumped into each other. Our stuff flew everywhere, mixing itself together. By the time we had sorted everything out and apologized and apologized and apologized, we felt like old-time buddies.
Adam is sooo nice. He’s in high school, and he wants to become a dentist like his dad. He’s very serious and reserved. He said he’d been watching me since the first day I came, but was too shy to say anything. I teased him then and accused him of bumping into me on purpose. That was the first time I’ve ever seen a boy blush. It’s the first time I’ve ever had enough self-confidence to be a little bit aggressive too. IT FEELS GOOD!
It Happened to Nancy Page 12