The Knowing: Awake in the Dark (9 page)

The man turned away and said. “She ain’t worth a nickel anyway.”

The woman rubbed her upper arm and looked down. Her mouth was slightly open and revealed a missing front tooth.

“Do you need a ride somewhere?” Aaron asked the distraught woman.

“Yes,” she said in voice choked with tears.

“I’ll be right back. Lemme get my keys.”

In a few strides, Aaron grabbed his keys from a small table and left.

The only sound in the place was the song, “One Of These Nights” by the Eagles, that I’d played only moments before. My heart ached and my stomach churned with want for Aaron.

He looked like a hero to the thirteen year old that I was. I desperately wanted someone to save me to.

Maggie and I had found Tuck’s shortly after we’d moved to the area. After our return home, without child support, our mother needed to make more money and pay less rent. She got a new job and we moved to a small two bedroom condo in a new town. Isla, Maggie and I would share one bedroom. Karina didn’t come with us because our mother wouldn’t let her. Karina had just graduated from high school when our mother said, “You can’t come Karina. I can’t afford it. You’ll have to get a job and toughen up.” None of us knew the truth. We believed Karina simply moved out.

Maggie and I discovered Tuck’s walking to school. We walked past it every day.

For weeks, after school I went to Tuck’s hoping to see Aaron, praying he would notice me.

I’d choose tight pants and line my eyes with thick, dark liner that I hoped made me look older. I searched for ways to draw Aaron’s attention and stand out. Then it came to me.
Learn to play pool.

I took a billiards course offered as an elective my freshman year of high school. I became very good and won tournaments gaining trophies and custom pool sticks. I practiced as often as I could at Tuck’s. I did this to impress Aaron. I thought about him constantly, doodling his name surrounded by hearts, rainbows, happy faces and the word LOVE on notebooks during class.

Aaron played pool with me one afternoon and admired my growing skill. “You’re pretty good.” He said. “You must be practicing.”

My insides squirmed when he looked at me. I wanted to squeal with pride at his compliment.
Yes, yes! I am good! Do you like me now? It doesn’t matter how old I am. I love you!

I wanted to show him that we were meant to be together. But, Aaron kept his distance.

Frustrated, I showed up at his house one Saturday morning with a broom and dustpan. “I’m here to clean the house for you guys.” I said to a bleary eyed Dan who stood rubbing his face in boxer shorts.

“What for?”

“So you can have a clean house. I’ll do it for free.” I said.

“Whatever. I’m going back to bed.” Dan said, shuffling down the hall.

I showed up on weekends and after school. I desperately wanted Aaron to notice just what I would do for him. When he showered, I snuck into his room breathing in his smell. I finally felt close to him. I felt I had a chance to make him love me.

“Nita!” Aaron called from his room one morning shortly after I’d arrived.  I scurried down the hall trying to control the silly smile that stretched across my face. “What do you need Aaron?”

Smiling, Aaron lifted the cover on his bed and said, “I need you to come keep me warm.”

My heart bloomed as I moved toward his bed.
Oh my god! He does love me!
I was delirious with happiness.

Out of bed he treated me as if nothing had happened between us. I believed it was because he didn’t trust me and over time I could change his mind.  It was rumored that he’d been hurt badly by his ex-girlfriend. They’d had a child together, a boy, but the relationship was over. She’d stopped by one Saturday afternoon with a sweet blond- haired boy who I assumed was their son. I was struck by her beauty and envious of their relationship.

“Is Aaron here?” She asked, eyeing me warily and gripping her child’s hand.

My heart was pounding as I replied, “I think he’s in his room.” I’d just left his bed moments before and I felt like I’d been caught doing something I shouldn’t.

They sat together outside in the backyard watching the child play. I heard snippets of conversation float in on the breeze.

“Hey, little man, come show Daddy what you got.” Aaron reached for the boy who toddled toward him. Happiness glowed on the child’s face. He extended his little arm making an offering to his father. “Che, chk.” came the garbled reply. Aaron lifted the boy into his lap kissing him repeatedly on his face while the child squirmed and giggled with delight.

My heart clenched.
What a beautiful child
, I thought.
She is beautiful too.  I’ll never have a chance.
I watched through the kitchen window as the bright afternoon sun and spring breeze painted a perfect picture of a small family. I would never see the woman or child again nor would Aaron. The woman refused all contact. For years I thought her cruel and condemned her in my mind for keeping Aaron from his son.

I was surprised when Aaron had invited me into his bed and I’d felt so hopeful. For me, his invitation meant he loved me. Having sex with me proved it. That’s what sex was right? An expression of love. That’s what I thought.

Two weeks later, on a Sunday afternoon, I swept a pile of dirt from their kitchen floor.
Where does all this crap come from?
I wondered. I’d already filled the sink with soap and water, dipping in the long, ropey tendrils of the mop that reminded me of my childhood.

As a child, the mop was a beautiful princess who lived in a garden which was my backyard. I’d play for hours holding the mop watching the strands of cloth swing, pretending it was long, golden hair. Together we would dance with the prince at imaginary balls.

Aaron, Dan and four other male friends sat drinking and smoking pot in the spare bedroom of their house. It wasn’t unusual. There was a constant flow of young males in and out.

“Hey. Sugar Drawers!” Dan called from the room. “Come in here a minute.” 

Something in his voice made me nervous. I hated Dan. I gripped the molding around the door and stuck my head in the room.

Empty beer bottles, overflowing ashtrays and an empty pint of rum and Jack Daniels lay scattered on the floor. Smoke was heavy in the air.

“What?” I asked nervously.

The energy in the room felt dangerous. It was thick with testosterone, although I couldn’t name it. My body buzzed with alarm. 

“We want to talk to you,” Dan said. “Don’t be scared, come in here.”

Dan straddled a wooden chair turned backwards. A baseball cap was pulled low to his brow, his long hair tied back at his neck.

I’d seen the men at Tuck’s; they were friends of Aaron and Dan.

I stepped forward and jerked with a start at the sound of the door slamming behind me. The men sat in a circle around me. My heart pumped. I squeezed the dustpan handle and fixed my eyes on the floor. Fear stiffened my limbs. I waited.

Dan started the talking. “Tell me why we shouldn’t take turns fucking you right now? We know that’s what you come here for.”

I couldn’t speak or swallow. His crude words stung me. A distant ringing began to sound in my ears. I kept my head down. Humiliation uncoiled itself and raced through my body.
You deserve this,
it whispered
.

“We’ve decided that, that’s exactly what we’re gonna do, Sugar Drawers. Today. Right now.”

My body absorbed a jumble of thoughts and feelings all at once. I heard the random thoughts of the men in the room.
Shit, she’s really scared. Is Dan really gonna do it?

He’s crazy. Look at her ass though, m-m-m-m.

I couldn’t tell who thought what but I felt their mixed intention slice through me. I
knew
if something sexual started, it would be like a feeding frenzy. There would be no stopping it. I felt like I was surrounded by a pack of wild dogs.

Terrified, my mind jumped.
I just come to be with Aaron. Aaron why are you doing this?
Please, don’t hurt me. Aaron, please. I know you love me.  Why are you doing this?
My skin felt like stinging nettles and I was confused. Aaron sat silent among the men, it was a dagger in my soul. The energy in the room swallowed me, suffocated me.
Oh God, what should I do?

I lost track of time. I could no longer hear their words. Bile, slick and wet shot from the back of my throat filling my mouth. I swallowed it back, forcing it down. I couldn’t believe Aaron would be part of this. The agony of that truth pulsed like a fever under my skin.

Suddenly, Dan stood up and moved toward me.

I’m going to vomit.

“That’s enough.” Aaron said. “Open the fucking door and let her out.

No one moved or spoke.

“Open the door!” Aaron screamed, standing up.

“Next time, you won’t be so lucky.” Dan promised.

I bolted on wooden legs. Tears blurred my vision. I ran from the house.

After several blocks I collapsed in hysterics.
What just happened? Why would they do that?

My body shook with fear and the realization of what had almost happened.
I am so stupid.  Stupid, stupid, stupid
. Confusion clouded my mind.
Why did this happen? Does it mean Aaron doesn’t love me? Why did he make them let me go?

I sat tucked beside a hedge and cement steps on a stranger’s front lawn. Pain in my gut clutched hard, bending me over. I opened my mouth and surrendered to my sickness.

“Ohhh-ohhh- God,” I roared tipping my head toward the sky. “Why, why? What is wrong with me? Why does everyone hate me?” I cried until I ran out of tears. My body ached as the fantasy of being loved crumbled. I wanted to be numb. I wanted to disappear. I wanted to die.

I didn’t go back to Aaron’s house nor would I see him for months.

The pot I smoked was no longer enough to escape my pain and I began devouring drugs dangerously. Weeks after the crushing episode at Aaron’s, I had my first overdose.

My body lay lifeless face down in the grass like a corpse.  Drool flowed freely as I struggled to draw breath.  Efforts to turn my head and close my mouth to the dirt and grit that filled it were in vain. I managed to move my jaw up and down like a cow gnawing at the earth.  A low ringing filled my ears and while I knew where I was, I realized I might die undetected by the mothers and children playing near me on the swing sets and slides of the park. I felt a presence hover over me like a reverse shadow but I was unable to communicate with it.  It reminded me of Maggie’s angel and I held onto the memory for as long as I was conscious, which wasn’t long.

Several hours had passed by the time Maggie found me that day. I had snorted a deadly mixture of PCP and cocaine. When I opened my eyes I was lying on a bed in an unfamiliar room. The curtains billowed inward from the breeze through an open window.  Maggie held my ankle tightly and forced my knee to bend gliding my foot toward my chest and out again while she cradled a phone receiver tucked firmly between her ear and shoulder.

“Yes,” she said. “I am doing that. Mm’hm, I don’t know how much she did. Yes, it was definitely PCP mixed with coke.” 

Maggie listened intently to the person on the other end. Fearful I would die she’d called the Drug Hotline and was speaking with a nurse.  She glanced up and looked directly at me. “She just opened her eyes,” she said, exhaling her pent up anxiety. After another moment she said, “Okay, I will. Thank you.”

She hung up the phone and pulled me out of bed forcing my body upright and walked with me back and forth; tiny bits of grit still crunched between my teeth. I felt boneless, a replica of Gumby dancing a ballet.

“Jesus Christ,” Maggie snarled. “You’re a fucking idiot. You scared the shit out of me.”

We were across the parking lot in another condo in our complex and through the open window we heard a car’s engine and Maggie looked out.

“That’s just great,” she hissed, “Mom’s home.” And as the car door slammed she said, “Come on, Nita, “Knock it off. You better get a grip.”

It took a couple of hours of forced repetitive movement before I began to feel normal, but thanks to Maggie’s intervention I recovered. Much of this period is hazy, but what remained constant and clear in spite of the drugs was the voice in my mind and a
light-body
that I began to see frequently.