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2003-01-04 : 12:53 a.m.
Wonder Lost Woman
Written: 1-3-03 6:15 p.m.
Listening to: Pearl Jam (off the radio) I had a memory to share with you just now� But I found myself trapped within the first few lines� and once again, I disgusted myself, when I thought of the actions I made in response to what had happened. So I will share with you a different memory, that would eventually set up the feelings I have with respect to my parents and marriage in general- to this day. It was a very long, long time ago� But the memory is as fresh as the smell and feel, of my first true love� (This current aside, I write to you... after having finished writing the whole of this entry... and it is now 12:30 a.m. the next day... ************************************************** I can�t tell you the time or exact date� but I do remember the feel of the air and the chill found within that evening�s dew. Something only felt by an encroaching winter� in the marshy wet lands of Florida. I was about four years old� and although I barely understood a lick of the English language� I was obsessed with three things at this time: 1) Star Wars We would go grocery shopping that evening. A typically exciting event for me at the time. You see� we were really, really poor. And (I shit you not) up to that point, I hadn�t really been �inside� many different stores� (Walked outside� yes. But actually enter one� and watch my parents buy anything? And more than �one� item no less� Christ, never. On a tangent , this thought reminds me of my first time ever entering Toy�s R� Us (a huge toy department store). I became light headed and started crying� *laughing* Good to know, I can laugh now. ) That evening had begun absolutely great� because it was one of those few days I would get to choose a breakfast cereal. And much like they continue to be today, that meant they came with a toy or game as part of the box. I actually remember the stressful toll that would take on me� having to choose just �One�. Especially, since I hadn�t ever a clue as to when I�d get my hands on another box. Oh the pressure! And it was always worse when it became "on the spot pressure." The next thing I remember, was my mother asking me if I would like a box of cereal. �Si! Si!� (Yes! Yes!) And I bolted straight to the cereal aisle, with my father right behind me. But that day would prove to be a bit different. �Lucky Charms� would win the round hands down! A number/color picture of Wonder Woman!!! In any case� I remember stopping all presses at that very moment. I must have been over joyed, because all I can remember is my father laughing at me. �Do you want to see another one?� he�d ask. �No! No! I want this one.� As I hugged it fiercely. �Then go give it to mami.� Order understood! I bolted back in the other direction towards my mom. Who kept yelling at me to be careful and not run. But for a good solid second there I didn�t think I would make it in time and I was over come with sheer panic. (See, at the time I wasn�t really aware of two simple things� that the cashier might wait for me� or that you could always make the line a second time, in one visit. *laughing again*) But I couldn�t have been happier. My dad would then take it out of the bag and let me hold it in the car. With my mother making me pledge hours of TV time, if I opened it without permission. At that point I had asked my parents about the numbers and what it all meant� and they would explain the simple instructions� and the added magic that came with my new Wonder Woman. You see at the bottom left corner of the box, they had included all the basic water colors ready to use to color Wonder Woman! But I worried a bit, because I realized I didn�t have a paint brush. I never had the opportunity to own one. But my mother tried to ease my concern, telling me that a q-tip and a cup of water would do the same trick. That I wouldn�t need a paint brush. I sat in such wonderment of the cool cereal box in my hands, that I became oblivious to the argument that was brewing between my parents. The short answers, beneath their breathe�s. The quick glances back and forwarth. It always scared me. Because what would come, never failed. The butterfly�s in my stomach... would fall on my gut like a pile of bricks. I remember sitting in the back of the car, trying desperately to just focus on the box... I stared at the box. Hoping and praying that they would just stop. If God listened, then they would stop. Just stop. But this time it wouldn�t, as it hadn�t many times before. It kept on... escalating in the smallest of increments... as they parked the car... unloaded the few bags of groceries... opened the apartment door... My mother would then take a quick moment to send me to my room. And as she would every time... tell me to stay in there and not come out. I just kept my hands and eyes on the prize, staring at my box as I walked the already memorized path to my room. And promptly sat on my bed... and just continued to stare at her... Stare at wonder woman... and wish with all desperation I could be her. She could make them stop. She made anything bad stop. Everyone listened to Wonder Woman. She was so pretty... strong... and commanding... And most importantly, she saved good people... Surely she would come at some point... and save mi mami... save mi papi... Save me... At some point my mum rushed into my room to hand me some Q-tips and cup with water... I just remember sitting there, looking up to her all ready swollen and watered eyes... She patted down my face... told me not to worry and color wonder woman. She shut the door. She always did try to keep me sheltered from it. She tried. But the yelling was always stronger than the barriers could withstand. I had begun with blue. I wet the Q-tip... and tried painting with the blue. I wet my little q-tip... And the yelling got louder... But I kept rubbing the color... but nothing would happen... when I�d try to paint her bottom... And the yelling became screams... And I just kept going back... rubbing the blue... rubbing the blue... And I heard something... things... Thrown. Broken. I became so nervous. I was scared. Why wasn�t she working? I needed to finish her... I needed to hurry... I needed to make her work. But the blue would not come off where it should... And I could hear his voice... deepening in his roar... I looked at my Q-tip... I could hear her crying and pleading... The Q-tip was absorbing the color... I was losing all of my blue. I heard a loud smack... a huge thump... and my mother scream... And I couldn�t take it anymore... I wanted to make it stop... I dropped the box and swung open the door. My mother laid strewn across the floor, with my father over her. She picked up her head... saw me... and attempted to push herself up with her forearms... as she heaved and cried... She yelled at me to �Go inside! Go inside!� I�d look up at my father... whose face softened and buckled when he looked straight at me. �Please!� She pleaded with me. �Go inside your room!� But I stood there... frozen. I didn�t know why... or what... but I understood... I understood very well... what had just occurred. But I couldn�t get past the �why?� that kept me standing still in my place. My father knelt over in an attempt to pick my mother up. But she screamed and pushed him away. And turned back to me... and buckled back to the floor as she pleaded one last time for me to please go back inside my room. My father, in his softest tone... as my mother laid crying... looked at me... and told me, �It�s okay... it�s okay, gordita... go inside...� And I just stared at him... and felt the words just fall out of my mouth... �I need a brush... I need a brush.� Nothing more... nothing else... could I piece together and leave my lips. I then, simply turned around and entered my room. ***************************************************************** The next day, when my dad came back from work he would hand me a small bag. He had bought me a paint brush. A yellow paint brush. And although the fighting never seemed to end... I never saw him or heard him... touch my mother again. And I never finished painting Wonder Woman. Radiohead�s �Karma Police� now plays.... �... for a minute there, I lost myself... I lost myself...�
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