The images of disgusting germ infested insects crawling around my bunny slippers as I would attempt my bathroom business frightened me. My bladder throbbed, and I decided to let it. I would not pee in filth. Although only 4, I had learned to avoid the creepy things that reminded me of my surroundings. Camden, New Jersey was a title I wore like a scarlett Letter from the day I was born. Dirt, death, and disaster followed all who would choose to claim it as home. Not me. I was determined to make it an invisible place, and the characters of fairy tale books would have to make room for me because I would easily without effort, pretend to be apart of their families rather than accept the reality of my own. My mother was a drunk, but a smart one, and she loved me. My father, though tender toward me, had a way about him that caused the entire city to respectfully address him as Mr. and most people obeyed him, except mother. My brothers were both older than me. Darryl, remained my confident and friend through whatever hell we would witness. Just a year older, we sympathized with one another easily and protected each other whenever we could. Aiken was much older. Although he told me on numerous occasion that he loved me, I knew that his love was tainted and filthy. The toilets I imagined in the bathrooms of the Jollies bar were similar to the images I saw repeatedly in my thoughts each time Aiken proclaimed his love toward me. Nights like these were the nights that I would always hope that mother would bring Darryl along. Together I could imagine that we would laugh at the silly short costumes that the clown faced women would wear at night as they staggered along the streets looking for rides. Darryl would remind me that Mother would only be an hour and that, her thirst for the wild night would subside and she would return back to our Buick and safely escort us back home. However, I must have been special. Mother would only choose me to take along with her on her night drives to the busy place. So with as much courage as a 4 year old could muster, I sat there patiently waiting. Although my reading was poor, my counting had become impressive thanks to the stars. I tried desperately to count them in order to pass time. The ache in my bladder intensified, and even squeezing my legs together wouldn’t help this time. My eyes scanned the front seat for cups, or bowls. My fist, tiny and weak squeezed the cotton worn blanket tightly as I chanted “don’t do it.” I focused in on her. It was her 4th drink, and her body had relaxed into a slump at the counter where the smiling man stood. He poured and poured as her mouth opened widely to laugh at whatever he must have said to her. “Mommy, I have to go pee,” I whispered knowing all too well that she could never hear me through the car, and through the winds of the night, and finally through the doors of the bar. I came to a conclusion that releasing on myself could never be an option. My skin had already been cleaned and washed. If nothing else soothed me in moments like these, the fragrant aromas of baby powder and dove soap did. Praying to God that the men along side the building would continue to keep their eyes on the dice and their money, I attempted to get out of the car. I stared strongly at them as I hid behind Mother’s car door. Peeking as I pulled my night dress up and my strawberry shortcake panties down, I squatted. My nervousness grew rapidly as I heard my own urine drizzling against the cracked concrete. I caught the eyes of the younger teenage boy that knelt down with the men. After he nudged another, and mumbled a few words, they all stared directly into my eyes. Shame covered me better than my favorite blanket. I had already begun and I couldn’t stop mid-stream. The old men and the younger teen that I recognized later to be Aiken’s friend all had a laugh at my expense. Too embarrassed to look for something to wipe myself, I rushed my panties back up, and I dashed back into the car, locking the door after me. The connection between their eyes and mine seemed unbreakable as the tears burned through my lashes. Someone had witnessed me doing the most private thing I had ever done. And worse, the seat of my underwear were no longer fresh and dry. Startled by the sound of the door unlocking from the driver’s side, I jumped. Mother, had taken in as much alcohol as she could bear, and was caving into the seat beside me. The red in her eyes and the slur in her words comforted me because I knew that it was time to go home. The drive was less than 7 minutes. Within
those seven minutes I would imagine home, a place where two cars, shiny and new were parked side by side. The carport smoothly paved and surrounded with a white fence that was freshly painted. Our full breed German shepherd would wait for us along with the porch light.
My father would be in his rocking chair that rocked gently up against our dog’s bottom, and my father’s hand would cradle a tall glass of lemonade. A kiss would be the standard way he’s greet my mother, and of course he would pick me up and follow that with a forehead peck. When the seven minute drive came to an end, then so would my fantasy.
those seven minutes I would imagine home, a place where two cars, shiny and new were parked side by side. The carport smoothly paved and surrounded with a white fence that was freshly painted. Our full breed German shepherd would wait for us along with the porch light.
My father would be in his rocking chair that rocked gently up against our dog’s bottom, and my father’s hand would cradle a tall glass of lemonade. A kiss would be the standard way he’s greet my mother, and of course he would pick me up and follow that with a forehead peck. When the seven minute drive came to an end, then so would my fantasy.