on feeling normal
warning: this is graphic and kind of sickening, but instead of keeping my mouth shut like i'm supposed to, i'm going to tell the entire fucking world because i'm not scared of what anyone thinks anymore.
i was supposed to get off of work early today to go to an appointment, but just as i decide to clean under the table before i split, my client starts peeing. on me. i'm not mad--she's ninety-nine, for god sakes, but by the time i clean the floor and her and myself to the best of my abilities (which involves me having to borrow one of her old mint-colored dresses which is almost obscenely low cut), it's four thirty and my appointment was at four. really no big deal though. shit happens.
so i decide to go to my grandparents'; they live not too far from my client. they've been trying to take me out to the new three hundred million dollar casino since my birthday, i drop in as i'm already semi-dressed up. we make plans and they tell me i should stop by my great-grandparents' down the road because my great-grandfather has been wanting to talk to me. feeling pretty capable of dealing with him, i decide to go.
i spend the first good while inside talking about my cousins with momo bea, my great-grandmother. i decided that since i needed to leave soon, i'd go out to the barn to see what edgar wanted from me. my grandmother calls to tell me we have to go another night, but i decide to go back there anyway because i'm not afraid of him anymore, and i'm feeling like my old self again for the first time in weeks. nothing he could say could possibly upset me because i've learned to deal.
it was pretty uneventful at first. he feeds the chickens and i feed the rabbits. i feel like recently having confronted him about how he abused me as a child got through to him somehow. he gives me a piece of scrap wood to paint on. all of the sudden he invites me to sit in the front room of the shed, a room that haunts me to this day. i accompany him but decide to stand.
he finally convinces me to sit. then he asks me a question. the rest of this is basically verbatim--the only problem is it may not be exact because it's not like i wrote any of this down. i swear on my dog that nothing is added for any sort of emphasis. i'm not twisted enough to make shit like this up, and it's not like it's exactly flattering. the internet is where yr best self, the most exciting and beautiful parts of you are supposed to be..
him: "so why'd you come here the other day?"
me: "what do you mean?"
him: "why'd you come here and talk about that stuff?"
me: "because no one else wants to talk about it, but i'm as stubborn as you are, i guess. i wanted to remind you that what you did was horrible and you should probably be in prison."
him: "i know why you really came here."
me: "and why was that?"
him: "because you wanted me to try to rape you again. i could make you come a million times."
me: (silence). "i figure i'm a bit too old for you now."
him: "do you have a boyfriend?"
me: "n--why is that any of your business? do you realize that this is disgusting and you are my grandfather?"
him: "you don't got no boyfriend because they don't want you. they sure want to fuck you, you're the prettiest one we got. they ain't never gonna love you, though. not when they find out i made you a whore ever since you were little. they're gonna know you're trash and you're gonna be hard up and you can come right back here."
me: (silence) "i'm fine and i can take care of myself, thank you. i'm going to leave now."
him: "show me your big titties."
me: (silence)
him: "or at least let me play with your pussy."
me: (walking out)
him: "now you keep this between you and me now. i'm an old man and they just think i'm crazy. you tell people and they're just gonna know you're a whore. you're always gonna be by yourself. i mean it, ain't nobody gonna wanna take care of a whore."
i go inside, kiss my grandmother goodbye, and leave.
on the way home i see a small animal lying in the street. i turned around and parked in the driveway. he was so little, and at first he looked fine. i put on my work gloves and picked him up and the other side of his skull had caved in. it was so clean, so simple. i brought him to the side of the road and tried knocking on the doors of nearby trailers, because he looked like he had a home but had no tag. no one answered. i finally wrap him up in a towel and bag and put him in the back of my car. i didn't know what to do with him. finally i borrowed a phonebook from a convenience store and called the emergency night clinic to see what my options were. they told me they could have him cremated, but the only way i could keep the ashes was if i had ninety dollars. i only had a borrowed twenty on me, which is how much it is to simply have him cremated and then, well, i don't know what.
i took him in and they let me back with him to say goodbye. the vet helped me to weigh him and close his eyes and clean him up some so i could take a picture in case someone was looking for him. and for myself.
when i finally had to let go and say goodbye, i paid, told the nurse where i'd found him, and left. i only cried one tear today.
things will work out, somehow. i just know it.
i was supposed to get off of work early today to go to an appointment, but just as i decide to clean under the table before i split, my client starts peeing. on me. i'm not mad--she's ninety-nine, for god sakes, but by the time i clean the floor and her and myself to the best of my abilities (which involves me having to borrow one of her old mint-colored dresses which is almost obscenely low cut), it's four thirty and my appointment was at four. really no big deal though. shit happens.
so i decide to go to my grandparents'; they live not too far from my client. they've been trying to take me out to the new three hundred million dollar casino since my birthday, i drop in as i'm already semi-dressed up. we make plans and they tell me i should stop by my great-grandparents' down the road because my great-grandfather has been wanting to talk to me. feeling pretty capable of dealing with him, i decide to go.
i spend the first good while inside talking about my cousins with momo bea, my great-grandmother. i decided that since i needed to leave soon, i'd go out to the barn to see what edgar wanted from me. my grandmother calls to tell me we have to go another night, but i decide to go back there anyway because i'm not afraid of him anymore, and i'm feeling like my old self again for the first time in weeks. nothing he could say could possibly upset me because i've learned to deal.
it was pretty uneventful at first. he feeds the chickens and i feed the rabbits. i feel like recently having confronted him about how he abused me as a child got through to him somehow. he gives me a piece of scrap wood to paint on. all of the sudden he invites me to sit in the front room of the shed, a room that haunts me to this day. i accompany him but decide to stand.
he finally convinces me to sit. then he asks me a question. the rest of this is basically verbatim--the only problem is it may not be exact because it's not like i wrote any of this down. i swear on my dog that nothing is added for any sort of emphasis. i'm not twisted enough to make shit like this up, and it's not like it's exactly flattering. the internet is where yr best self, the most exciting and beautiful parts of you are supposed to be..
him: "so why'd you come here the other day?"
me: "what do you mean?"
him: "why'd you come here and talk about that stuff?"
me: "because no one else wants to talk about it, but i'm as stubborn as you are, i guess. i wanted to remind you that what you did was horrible and you should probably be in prison."
him: "i know why you really came here."
me: "and why was that?"
him: "because you wanted me to try to rape you again. i could make you come a million times."
me: (silence). "i figure i'm a bit too old for you now."
him: "do you have a boyfriend?"
me: "n--why is that any of your business? do you realize that this is disgusting and you are my grandfather?"
him: "you don't got no boyfriend because they don't want you. they sure want to fuck you, you're the prettiest one we got. they ain't never gonna love you, though. not when they find out i made you a whore ever since you were little. they're gonna know you're trash and you're gonna be hard up and you can come right back here."
me: (silence) "i'm fine and i can take care of myself, thank you. i'm going to leave now."
him: "show me your big titties."
me: (silence)
him: "or at least let me play with your pussy."
me: (walking out)
him: "now you keep this between you and me now. i'm an old man and they just think i'm crazy. you tell people and they're just gonna know you're a whore. you're always gonna be by yourself. i mean it, ain't nobody gonna wanna take care of a whore."
i go inside, kiss my grandmother goodbye, and leave.
on the way home i see a small animal lying in the street. i turned around and parked in the driveway. he was so little, and at first he looked fine. i put on my work gloves and picked him up and the other side of his skull had caved in. it was so clean, so simple. i brought him to the side of the road and tried knocking on the doors of nearby trailers, because he looked like he had a home but had no tag. no one answered. i finally wrap him up in a towel and bag and put him in the back of my car. i didn't know what to do with him. finally i borrowed a phonebook from a convenience store and called the emergency night clinic to see what my options were. they told me they could have him cremated, but the only way i could keep the ashes was if i had ninety dollars. i only had a borrowed twenty on me, which is how much it is to simply have him cremated and then, well, i don't know what.
i took him in and they let me back with him to say goodbye. the vet helped me to weigh him and close his eyes and clean him up some so i could take a picture in case someone was looking for him. and for myself.
when i finally had to let go and say goodbye, i paid, told the nurse where i'd found him, and left. i only cried one tear today.
things will work out, somehow. i just know it.