taylortheindian-blog

[taylortheindian-blog]

I remember the years leading up to the loss of my home. I was young. About six years. My brother Davy had fallen in love. He talked of a girl with such beauty she was told to make the lillies seem dull. Her name was brownwen. They were married that summer. At the wedding there were cakes and pies and pastries like you had never seen. The crusts so elaborate and beautiful it was such a shame to cut into them. That was the first time I had come into money, and it was for winning a race. My friend had offered me a spanking if I did not win, and he was not one to promise and not produce. So ran I did, and I won. My winnings went into the box, the family box of savings and money. Only my mother was to touch it. She was one to handle all finances in the house. In return for my effort and earnings, I was awarded 10 pennies. With each and every one I bought myself hand pulled taffy so good that it was worth at least 100 shillings.

[taylortheindian-blog]

I'm leaving my valley behind. Packing all the things that will fit in my little blue cloth that my mother used to tie around her head while doing house work. One that is too good for packing, but I can't use anything else because there is nothing else. And if I go down to the shop, everyone will know I'm leaving; that is not what I want. There is no sadness or anger with me. Only the feel of a peice of wood that has found itself between the threading between my shoulders.

I have promised the cloth a good wash and ironing when I settle. Where ever that might be. It is a worry to me now, for if it is lost or if it do tear I shall hold that on my conscience for the rest of my life. I can still remember my mother wearing it.

There is rememberence with me. Ah, the feel of sadness takes me now. My father, he was sixteen when he met my mother. Off from the iron works and on his way to home. Singing he said he was. At least until he saw her, drawing the curtians to the house in which she worked. He looked up, she looked down, and when their eyes met, the fell fast in love.

[taylortheindian-blog]

Today was long. Esperanza tried to kill herself by swallowing a bottle of baby aspirin. Estevan, who I thought would be with her, came to the back door and told me quietly. Something inside him was turning inside out...I could feel it. I opened a beer for us, and I fell on old female traditions. This all reminded me of a boy I knew in high school, a real smart one. His name was Scotty Richey. He killed himself on his 16th birthday. Poor thing. They found him in his barn with electrical wires wrapped around his neck. We moved to the living room and talked more. We talked about Scotty and cliques and not mixing them together. He told me about telephones and the police in Guatemala. I got us another beer. At the end of the night I didn't even realize I fell asleep on him. I felt safe. Really safe. Then I woke up because he was asking me something. I can't remember exactly what, but I was half asleep. Eventually I moved to my own bed. I fell in love that night.

[taylortheindian-blog]

I'm at a picnic with maddie and lou Ann right now. Maddie brought a young Guatemalan couple with her. I can't seem to grasp their names though, but the young man is an English teacher, and I'm not sure what his wife did. She's so quiet. We're at a place you'd never expect to find in the desert, with a little stream and clear pools with huge hippo butt looking rocks. Lou Ann wanted to get married to her ex up here, but I guess that never happened. Poor thing. She's better off without him though, you can tell. Esperanza reminded me of turtle, in the way that she was always quiet, not that she grabbed onto everything she could. She was beautiful though, there was a certain strongness to her face, and a kind of grace you see in a morning flower. Estevan started singing while we swam in one of the pools, and it was beautiful. He was beautiful. It was a good day.

[taylortheindian-blog]

So I hit Arizona, as a thunder storm was passing. I had to pull into an old abandoned gas station. Some weird dude was just standing there trying to hit on me. Ugh. After the storm passed I went to push start my bug, and the damn tire was flat. I got it started, and as I drove away I could see glass shining behind me like a shimmering lake. It just happened to be my lucky day, as I drove past the town bank I saw a place called JESUS. IS. LORD. USED. TIRES. Odd place, the lady that runs it was nice, she offered turtle (what I nicknamed the child) a bottle thing of apple juice, and me some coffee. It would cost me too much to get my tires fixed right now.

[taylortheindian-blog]

Okay, so I was heading west in crappy Oklahoma, and my bug's damn rocker arm gave out! Who would have thought? Anyway I found a service station just off the road, owned by one Bob Twotwo. Fixed it for nearly half my money. Stopped for a bite to eat and some coffee in a little bar and left with a child! Can you imagine? I left Pittman county to avoid having a child and now look at me. It wasnt really my choice though, I didn't want it, but I guess you can't always have what you want. Ugh, more work than it's worth? I guess well find out..

[taylortheindian-blog]

Leaving Pittman today, headed west until my car won't go no more. Also changed my name for missy to Taylor (I think its fitting). When I got to Oklahoma, I realized how flat everything really could be. It's soul sucking. That's all for now.