Functioning alcoholics and addicts are the most confusing adults a child can be around. They seem safe for small stints and then the anger from not drinking kicks in or they drink quietly and you can’t figure out who they are or what’s wrong with them but you know something is off. When your parent drinks to the point of sloppiness, you can visually see they are drunk and choose to avoid them. I preferred that type of clarity. I knew to keep to myself when Dennis and Mom were sloppy drunk. When they could still speak clearly and use their hands, I wasn’t sure what to do. I was always analyzing the situation and guessing if today is a good day or a bad day.
Soon after moving into our 1 bedroom apartment, I learned that Mom and Dennis met at Longhorn restaurant where they both worked. Dennis was a cook and Mom was a server. He was much smaller than my father but his skin was darker, even though my father was black. Dennis was in our apartment daily and regularly spent the night. Mom cooked for him and catered to his every need. Overall, he was nicer to me than Mom was. She treated me like I was in the way most days. I always got the feeling that I was interfering with her new life and Dennis seemed to notice so he would try to play dolls with me or include me in the conversation.
Eventually, Mom and Dennis came home with a bed frame and moved the mattress and the frame into the bedroom. I was no longer allowed to sleep in the bed with them and had to sleep on the floor next to the bed. Every night for several weeks, I would wake to sounds of them moaning and bouncing around on the bed. The window at the head of the bed let in plenty of light from the street lights outside of our apartment. I would sit up and just watch, not completely understanding what I was seeing. My first time seeing this, I cried and asked Mom to stop. She looked down at me in annoyance and told me to hush and go back to sleep. She didn’t stop. She wasn’t embarrassed but just kept going. Mom would sit on top of Dennis and yell that he was the king and that she loved him. She’d rip off her top and throw it across the room and then he would crawl behind her and she’d yell. I’d watch and cry, not sure if he was hurting her. Forcing my eyes shut, I’d cry for my father. Why was she doing this? Mom and Dad were still married. I knew that because he would tell me in the cards he sent to me when we lived with the Smiths in Flour Bluff. He would tell me that he loved Mom and wanted his wife and daughter back. It was all so confusing for me. Watching Mom treat Dennis like he was her husband and do these things at night with him told me that Mom did not love Dad anymore.
Dennis and Mom would leave for work together in the mornings. They would have coffee and take shots of clear liquor before leaving. Mom would lock the door and tell me to make a sandwich if I got hungry.
I’d wander around the apartment and dig through mom’s things. All of her belongings looked so foreign to me. I didn’t know who she was and I’d dig through her stuff to see if there was any hint of our old life in a shoebox someplace. I couldn’t stay in her room long because it always smelled bad after her Dennis would have sex in the mornings and I didn’t want to smell it.
I didn’t fully understand how to use the television and when I turned it on, the news would come on and I’d see soldiers walking through sand storms to board airplanes and this didn’t interest me so I’d just turn it off. I’d play with my toys and stare at the photos of my siblings on the walls. My sister was the most beautiful girl in the world to me and because I didn’t have anyone to talk to to, I’d pretend she was there and would talk to her.
Sometimes I’d open the front door to our apartment and walk out on the balcony. The metal rails came to my nose so I’d tip toe to see over. I wanted to go downstairs and play in the small grass field but the stairs scared me. They were concrete steps with no back side, the kind you can see through and I worried that I’d fall through them for some reason. At 6 years old, anything was possible I guess.
Ms. Stella was our next door neighbor. Oftentimes, she sat outside on the balcony that our apartments shared. She had lots of plants and wore scarves on her head. She was a black woman with a small frame and a pleasant nature. Sometimes she’d spot me cracking the door open and would wave at me. In the beginning, I’d close the door quickly in case she ratted me out to Mom. Little did I know, Ms. Stella would soon be my lifeline.
Mom and Dennis would come home from work and drink until they fought. Then they would go in the room and have sex. Mom started locking me out of the room and I’d sleep on the couch. At some point before I started school, they came home with a twin bed and set it up in the living room for me. Having my own bed meant so much to me. I lined up my stuffed animals – my blue Care Bear and my cabbage patch doll Genie were my favorites. One evening, I asked Mom to tuck me in. I asked her to read me a story but we didn’t have any books. She started to tell me a story and then she started sobbing and told me how her mother didn’t love her and treated her badly as a child. She told me about peeing on herself while walking back from gymnastics because no one would pick her up or drop her off. I felt very sad for Mom. I told her I loved her so she’d stop crying. She kissed me goodnight and went to her room with Dennis. I tried to sleep but I couldn’t because their bed was slamming against the wall all night. I got up and banged on the wall. The banging and squeaking stopped and I went to sleep.
After Mom left for work one morning, I devised a plan to make Mom and Dennis stop having sex. Somehow, my 6 year old brain had figured out that Mom would not have sex with Dennis when her period was on. Yes, I know! I knew this at 6. I crawled onto the counters and took down the hot sauce and the ketchup from the cupboards. Then, gathered all of her lingerie and took everything in the bathroom with me. I closed the drain to the sink, filled the sink with water, threw the lingerie in the water and poured the hot sauce and ketchup on top. While that soaked, I pulled the comforter and the top sheet off of the bed. Mom had a vanity with her mirror and makeup in the bedroom. I found the reddest lipstick I could find and used it to draw red marks all over the bed. I made the bed back and put the lipstick back. I was very pleased myself until Mom came rushing back in because she had forgotten something. She asked me what I was doing and I told her that I was her bloody clothes and that Mr. Dennis couldn’t come over tonight because her period was on and it was everywhere. She looked at me strangely and left. It worked. I didn’t see him that evening.
As their drinking got worse, meaning, they would be more drunk earlier and earlier in the day, I’d do petty things like pour some of their liquor into the sink and then pour water in it to fill it back up. The bottles were really heavy and big but I’d clean up my spills and neither of them ever asked me what was happening to the liquor.
As I mentioned above, gauging how drunk someone was something I had to master before I started 1st grade. My parents were known for great house parties back in Louisiana and I’d watch all of the adults drink, talk loudly, dance and sometimes stumble out. Knowing when to keep to myself and when to ask for any sort of attention from my mother was how I survived. She was always very happy when she started drinking for the day. This was when she would cook and turn on Sade and dance a little in the kitchen. She would tell stories to Dennis about how amazing she used to be. After dinner, things were more rough and as she and Dennis got further into their relationship, things got uglier and uglier. I’d wake up the next morning and she would have a bruised cheek and Dennis would be gone. I don’t remember seeing him hit her but I could see her covering up bruises with make up or gluing her pieces of her tooth back together.
One morning when she was off of work I saw Mom hovering in the bathroom over clear cube with a tube at the top. Inside the cube was an iridescent square turning colors. I asked Mom what it was and she told me it was a pregnancy test. I asked what that meant and she explained what pregnancy was while she put on her mascara. It was a very nonchalant conversation where she described that how having sex makes babies. I asked her is she was pregnant and she told me that she hoped she was. She wanted to give Mr. Dennis a baby he could love. I was in a state of shock. She talked to me like I was no longer a factor. It was all about she and Dennis now and she wanted them to be a family. All I could think was, you’re a terrible mother. Please God don’t let Mom be pregnant , I prayed. Then she cheered that the results were positive.
Either that day or the next, we went to what may have been a clinic or hospital. Mom left me in the lobby while she went to pee in a cup and be seen by the doctor. There were big windows in the lobby and quite a few people sitting there with me. The sun was shining brightly and I day dreamed about what it would be like to have a little sister or brother. I thought of having to take care of the baby while Mom worked but in my fantasy it gave me someone to talk to. My mom came out of the office and told me it was time to go. I excitedly asked if she was having a baby and she flatly told me no and kept walking past me. She was crying. I could tell she really wanted a new baby and I felt bad for her and guilty about my prayer.
Saving Elizabeth 