Christmas rolled around and Mom spent a lot of time and effort buying gifts for Mr. Dennis’ daughter. I’d never met her but apparently she and I liked the same things. Mom laid out Barbie dolls and Barbie clothes, cute shirts, stuffed animals, play food and play money. I helped her wrap the gifts for the little girl and asked Mom if Santa was coming to our apartment. She said that she would do her best to get him here if I’m a good little girl.
Mom bought the little girl and I the same gifts for Christmas. I knew this because she very poorly hid my gifts in the coat closet by the front door. During Christmas break, I was the house all day alone and would take them out and play with them and put them back in the closet. When I got up for Christmas morning and unwrapped everything under the tree, which wasn’t very much, it was all fo the same gifts I’d played with in the closet. This did away with any fantasy I’d had about Santa Clause.
Our Christmas tree was small, nothing like the big trees we had when we lived with my dad. I’d lay under the tree, like I’d always done in the past and stare up at the lights, imagining I was a small chipmunk jumping around inside. I wanted to shrink and live inside the Christmas tree with all of the pretty lights and shiny ornaments.
It was just she and I for Christmas. Mr. Dennis was spending Christmas with his daughter and her mother. Mom wasn’t very happy about this and drank herself into a coma on the couch that day. I quietly played around her with my new toys, wishing she would have passed out in her own bedroom so I could enjoy my space.
Mom met a new friend around this time, Mr. George. He was a tall, heavy white man with white hair and a graying beard and aviator glasses. Dennis’ visits were more scarce around this time which wasn’t a terrible things. Mr. George, however, was not at all interested in me when he came over to visit mom. At least Dennis would give me a little hug or pat my head to say hello. Mr. George didn’t drink with Mom too much either. He would come over, take her to the back bedroom for a short period and leave. He would bring her pills and his visits were short. Although Mr. Dennis was drunk the majority of time and he would fight with Mom, Mr. George was much scarier. He didn’t say much to me and whatever he was brining my mom worried me more than the bottles of tequila Dennis would bring over. He stayed overnight less often but was more efficient in getting me to school if I needed to get to school. He would drop me off and the kids would ask me who that was and out of habit and embarrassment, my answer was, that’s my dad.
One day Mom packed up the car and told me Mr. George was taking us to Mexico. She promised that he would take me to the beach and I could collect my won sea shells, like I’d done with Chucky in Padre Island. We drove in the evening and I dozed on and off in the car. It was dark outside when we arrived at a light colored stucco house. We walked into a a wide round foyer with marble flooring. The foyer had opened up into three entrances, one leading to a room to my right, the second entrance leading down a hallway with a restroom and bedrooms and the last opening led to a step-down living area with a kitchen. There were other people in the house, maybe 4 or 5, coming in and out of the entrance to bedrooms. The hallway light was on in that entryway, but the other entryways were dark.
Larger Mexican men, bigger than Mr. Dennis and a small, older woman were among the people walking around speaking Spanish and greeting Mr. George and Mom. There was a wide bench in the foyer, next to the front door. Mom asked that I wait there and Mr. George led her to the lit hallway where the bedrooms were. I curled up on the cushioned bench and laid down, eventually drifting off to sleep but it wasn’t restful because of that light in the hallway and the people shuffling through the foyer. I felt a hand brush through the front of my hair and opened my eyes to a man standing over me. The small, older woman moved quickly across the foyer and aggressively whispered something to the man. He laughed and lifted his hands up in defeat, walking away from me and the older lady. I don’t what she said to me but I understood that she wanted me to to go to another room with her, feeling like she knew a safer place to rest.
It was light outside when I saw Mom again. I drifted out of a bedroom, through the sunken living room and back up into the foyer, finding her there with Mr. George. I gathered my small bag and we drove into town for breakfast, wandering down an unpaved road to an open seating area. I chowed down on things I couldn’t pronounce and watched people set up stands to sell their items. The sky was gray and it didn’t seem like a good day to swim at the beach. I asked about the beach and was told that they would not be able to make it during this trip. Mr. George stopped at one of the stands and bought me a rock that had been cut in half. Inside was amethyst, a beautiful purple quartz. I was mesmerized and stared at it while we drove back home. He told me that these rocks could be found just sitting in the sand at the beaches of Mexico. I couldn’t wait to come back and see it for myself.
Saving Elizabeth 