Chapter 9
the players:
Mitcy
Mitcy is the coolest girl ever. She always has an open ear. She doesn't complain or want to go to dances. She doesn't tell you your mustache looks stupid. Mitcy has black and brown hair. Oh yeah and she's my dog and right now, the closest thing I have to a best friend.
She doesn't say much. The only gift she ever wants is a biscut. She's single if any of you guys are interested.
Grandma
My grandma is old. She lives next door and only cares about herself. My mom said she was always like that. I can't say a lot about my grandma. She is like a generic grandma. She drives a Le Saber, she smells old, and she makes food from B.J.'s. She watches soap operas and harasses my mom.
Jim
I usually refer to him as the one armed man. Jim is anal retentive. Some days we get along, others we don't. He doesn't agree with a lot of my ideas and he shows his disapprovement of my by a quick, "MMM-hummm." He likes his alcohol. He's not an alcoholic, I think he is immune to the affects alcohol has on you. He can finish a bottle of wine in 30 minutes. Who knows.
I did not think it was possible to feel good and bad at the same time, until today. I awoke to a monday morning in the summer. To me, days did not matter during the summer. The only reason I kept track of the days during the school year, was to count down to the weekend. I went to the bathroom, with my eyes crusted shut. I was still wondering if I really bought a hampster or if it was a dream. Somehow, in a 10 second time period, I managed to pee on the wall....behind me. It is one of the many wonders of the world. I mopped up my yellow excretion and decided to go downsatirs to see my "perectly calm family". No one was in the house. The one armed man (my step dad) was at work. Then I realized, today was the day my mom had to take my dog to get surgery. The dog had breast cancer and was having it removed today, poor creature. I searched for pieces of my childhood while they were gone. I found two class pictures from fifth and sixth grade. Those were the only times I had ever cared about my appearance. The funny part was, even back then I was lacking sanity. When My parents went to meet my teachers they'd always get, "Ohhhhhhh, you're Richie's Parents." I guess even back then I made a lasting impression. I don't know if I weird people out or if they just really like me. Along with the class pictures I had found the legendary "Pookie Bear Note" to my Dad from Jen. Reading it made me sick. I have provided you with a copy of it. I found a picture of my mom and dad that I had torn in half. The father portion of the picture was discarded. A lot of the stuff brought back memories of how dimented I was as a child. I liked the feeling.
My mom came home and my grandma came over not too short after. My grandma was crying and saying her yard was messy and she wanted to sell her house. My mom was already upset about the dog and now my grandma was giving her crap. The only reason my grandma was doing this was because my mom planted flowers in our yard. She wanted my mom to do the same for her. It seemed like a simple task. But all of the simple tasks my mom does for my grandma plus work, plus everything else she did, amounted to a lot. I was so sick of hearing everyone complain. Is there ever really a time where people actually care about each other. There are those do-gooders who say helping people makes them feel good. If it made them feel bad, they would not help people. It seems we only do things for our self-gratification, no matter how selfless it amy seem from the outside.
Now my mom was in a bad mood and so was I. I knew I would end up being the scapegoat for all of the shit that happened to her. It's not her fault, it's just I'm so full of flaws and I make the perfect example of what to never become. So my existence is enough to put her over the edge. My sister sucked up to my mom, knowing she would make me look even worse than I already was. I stayed as far away until it seemed like she cooled off. We went back to the radical mother/son realationship. I have to say, she's the only mom I know that can skank. I tell her my thoughts and she shakes her head, knowing she has given birth to either the next Albert Einstein or the next Charles Manson. I don't think anyone is really sure which of the two I will become. Maybe I will make Richie B. a famous name for some original reason. My future is such a blur, but I keep thinking it is going to make me someone. Someone people know, fear, and love all at the same time. Who knows, I'll probably grow up to be a working class american and never amount to anything, or maybe my future is not that big. I never could picture myself growing old or getting married. I guess if I'm lucky, I'll die before my mid-life crisis. I don't want to get gray hair and tell my grandchildren the same stories over and over again. I can't see myself smelling like moth balls and acidentally peeing my pants. Although, I have always wanted to pee my pants on purpose in public. I would love to see people's reactions as a dark wet spot expanded from the crotch of my pants, down to my leg. I'd smell like a public bathroom and people would point and laugh. They would think they had the last laugh, I would pretend I saw nothing and act embarrassed. All the while, I'm laughing in my head. They actually believed I accidentally peed my pants, what a bunch of losers. But at the end of the day, I'm still the one with soggy smelly pants, nevermind that.
I spoke with Lauren. She had gone to the Anti-Flag show the day before with Sio. "Damn them", I say aloud. Lauren said she had to babysit and Sio was still there. I went to get Sio, so Lauren could babysit. We walked around the neighborhood and shoved each other into bushes and fences. The sun beat down on us as we treaded throught the ghetto. We could have gone into my air conditioned house, but I was unsure if we would get yelled at for watching a gray televison screen. I grabbed a leaf off of a tree and wiped my sweat. Sio grabbed a leaf and put it in my mouth. To my luck, she grabbed the moldy, furry leaf. That tasted bad. These childish antics are the things I love. I mean, what is a better way of showing someone you care for them than shoving them into a rusty fence or pushing them into oncoming traffic. It is priceless. We staggered about the entire neighborhood a few times. With every step, every laugh, every smile, every instant, my troubles and worries seemed to grow distant from my mind. I didn't care that the present would melt into a non-existant past. As long as there was a future ahead of me, I would continue to smile. I thought to myself as we traveled, "wow I am smiling." I guess sio is one of the very select people who can put a smile on my face, and rightfully so. I think I'm going to stop this paragraph before it gets gay.
Zing. Zing. We ended up in front of my house and Sio said to call Jonny D. She needed a ride home and she had his shirt they bought for him at the Anti-flag show. So I called Jonny D. and my mom said we could come in. We sat at the kitchen table until my mom had to pick up the dog. She said we had to sit outside beause no one was going to be home. So we waited for Jonny D. on my porch. He pulled up and walked up my driveway, proceded up the porch steps, walked to the door, rang the bell, and stepped back. He was oblivious to the fact we were on the same porch as him. I shifted in my chair and he saw us. Jonny D. is another kid who can make me smile. We went to Wendies. Ahhh yes, three fans of Anti-Flag, eating Corporate America's fast food, and paying tax for it. Jonny D. went to get something and I quickly placed the entire pepper shaker in his frostee. I am a smooth cat. Jonny D. Did not notice the brown dispenser in his drink and choked on it. His face turned blue as he tipped over in his chair. I thought he had gas so I punched him in the stomach and.....that never happened. So....we took the pepper shaker home and we sat in my basement for a while. Sometimes doing nothing is better than doing anything. Then again, I guess doing nothing is something. Jonny D. and Sio departed and I went to sit with my family. I fit in like a fat white guy in Ethiopia. My mom turned and said to me, "I think Sio thinks you and her are like...you know...she thinks you're her boyfriend." I smiled and said, "Nah, I think she only hangs out with me when there is no one else." She disagreed and said, "No, No, I know everything." Now the one armed man, my sister, the dog, and my mom were all looking at me. I had nothing witty so I just said, "I'm sure you do, I'm sure you do."
I layed in my bed and listened to Ninety Pound Wuss. I thought about my life and how amazing it was. I thought about Sio and smiled. I always made fun of kids who like stuff like this, and here I am again. But for the first time in a while, I fell asleep happy. I knew when I awoke, I'd probably still be smiling.
The next morning crept up on me and farted on my face. Yeha I didn't know morning could fart either, but who am I to judge? My mom came in and said I had to watch Mitcy today. I had to make sure she didn't chew her stitches or try to jump on/off anything. I quickly got dressed and did not pee on the wall. I sat with my dog as she whinced. I guess her stitches hurt. Mitcy was nine years old. Her cancer reminded me of how soon her life would come to an end. People say dogs have no emotions amd cannot understand, but I swear she can. She knows when I am sad and she even pretends to listen to what I have to say. She may not be interested, but at least she pretends. I don't know what I'm going to do without her. She was my company when I was alone. She was the first to see any of my poems and art. My eyes get all glazed and watery whenever I think of her gone...forever. I turned on Sublime and tapped my foot. Mitcy sat in my lap pitifully. I was excited, restless, and sad all at the same time. The ska music was my sedation for things like this. It was moments like that, that I felt most alive. Just doing nothing in particular, and not trying to understand myself. I just went with what I had and smiled.
I called Lauren, but she was not answering. I almost forgot her number. I called 346265 times just to make sure she wasn't sleeping. I guess I missed her. We hadn't hung out in a while. I missed watching her use her computer and asking her to skate, but never actually skating. I missed hearing her tell me about what she hated that day and what she thought was gay. I missed her not paying attention to me talking. I missed how her couch smelled like her greasy dog. I guess she'll get my message eventually and maybe we'll hang out. Maybe she was home and just didn't want to talk to me. Maybe this is my life, or is it? Maybe I'm dreaming. Maybe I'm done with this chapter.
