Chapter One
6/5
My first love was a fink. All lovers are finks, but this one was special. This one was slick as black gold as they say in Texas.
I was just a big-mouthed daisy girl with too much time on her powdered hands, too much green shading her mind, and a mom with too many bad connections. The worst one she had was Uncle Jimmy (U.J.). In his eyes, his sister could do no wrong, have no addictions, faults, or enablers.
I used to wonder if U.J. was too successful to know about these things. Now I know it’s just the opposite. He’s flanked by all sorts of addictions and he just shuts himself off from them and those people. He tries his hardest to keep Mom from becoming that person, and I guess that’s what makes him overstep his boundaries.
I was just sixteen and summer vacation had just begun. I was skipping from the movie theater alone—always alone—sucking on a strawberry lollipop. I always had a sweet tooth and a soft spot (a hole really) for hard-bought sugar that always suffered from neglect. I took that from detested U.J.: I eventually get everything I bargain for through hard work. (It is bolstering artistry but it’s driven me down some very scary roads too.)
I met up with U.J., who was trying to calm down Mom before her job interview to work as a secretary. U.J. never leaves room for my brother (Arthur) and me to squeeze between them.
He said the job offer came from a friend who owes him a favor. Bored with them already, I dazed into the background. My brother and I exchanged stolid glances. We both know everybody is a “friend” to U.J. and Mama has no place in the big city of Austin when she’s in such “a precarious state.” Again, U.J.’s words. He thinks any idleness or unemployment is precarious.
Ma just scratched her anemic, bug-bitten arms and followed him around on the sidewalk with big, dark blue eyes.
I pulled on her blue silk shirt sleeve as we walked toward the building where the interview would be held. “Mama, I went to see Lolita today,” I said. “You shoulda come. You love those types of movies.”
She looked down but never even moved her frail lips. Such a nervous zombie, I thought. Always chasing paper.
I could feel U.J.’s glare bore into my Bettie Page-curled skull. “It was romantic and funny, Mama. When Jeremy Irons was—”
“Arthur, I think it’s time you took your sister home now. Your mother and I have much prepping to do,” U.J. butted in.
I scoffed at his dusty brown suit and intentions.
I had a new idol I wanted to share despite her ugly name: Dolores “Lolita” Haze. At opening credits, I begrudged, “Ugh! Dolores? Makes my name sound like Bundt cake.” I had this new craving and a fresh mind to obtain it. I wanted what Lolita had: an older, more experienced and exciting lover. I wanted a Humbert: a protector, a sweet poison I could live and die happy with. And I knew a guy who could fit the bill.
I’d be sure to meet him later.
I glared at U.J., refusing to take Arthur’s hand.
“You’re a teenager now; don’t you think it’s time to tape down the tantrums, Rhea?” Mama’s bonehead-of-a-brother taunted.
I hate when he has my name in his mouth. I groaned and walked the other way with Arthur. “I don’t care if he’s President of Texas, Ar! He’s ignorant, he’s arrogant. I can’t stand him! Why do we let him boss us around and puppet Ma? She can’t be as useless as he thinks! That’s impossible, right? Mom can’t go through twenty jobs for nothin’. I mean, she landed plenty on her own, huh?”
My brother simmered as we walked down the street. “Cool down there, Rhea. He’s just trying to get Ma back on her feet. She’s had a rough coupla months and he wants to—”
“Control
6/5
My first love was a fink. All lovers are finks, but this one was special. This one was slick as black gold as they say in Texas.
I was just a big-mouthed daisy girl with too much time on her powdered hands, too much green shading her mind, and a mom with too many bad connections. The worst one she had was Uncle Jimmy (U.J.). In his eyes, his sister could do no wrong, have no addictions, faults, or enablers.
I used to wonder if U.J. was too successful to know about these things. Now I know it’s just the opposite. He’s flanked by all sorts of addictions and he just shuts himself off from them and those people. He tries his hardest to keep Mom from becoming that person, and I guess that’s what makes him overstep his boundaries.
I was just sixteen and summer vacation had just begun. I was skipping from the movie theater alone—always alone—sucking on a strawberry lollipop. I always had a sweet tooth and a soft spot (a hole really) for hard-bought sugar that always suffered from neglect. I took that from detested U.J.: I eventually get everything I bargain for through hard work. (It is bolstering artistry but it’s driven me down some very scary roads too.)
I met up with U.J., who was trying to calm down Mom before her job interview to work as a secretary. U.J. never leaves room for my brother (Arthur) and me to squeeze between them.
He said the job offer came from a friend who owes him a favor. Bored with them already, I dazed into the background. My brother and I exchanged stolid glances. We both know everybody is a “friend” to U.J. and Mama has no place in the big city of Austin when she’s in such “a precarious state.” Again, U.J.’s words. He thinks any idleness or unemployment is precarious.
Ma just scratched her anemic, bug-bitten arms and followed him around on the sidewalk with big, dark blue eyes.
I pulled on her blue silk shirt sleeve as we walked toward the building where the interview would be held. “Mama, I went to see Lolita today,” I said. “You shoulda come. You love those types of movies.”
She looked down but never even moved her frail lips. Such a nervous zombie, I thought. Always chasing paper.
I could feel U.J.’s glare bore into my Bettie Page-curled skull. “It was romantic and funny, Mama. When Jeremy Irons was—”
“Arthur, I think it’s time you took your sister home now. Your mother and I have much prepping to do,” U.J. butted in.
I scoffed at his dusty brown suit and intentions.
I had a new idol I wanted to share despite her ugly name: Dolores “Lolita” Haze. At opening credits, I begrudged, “Ugh! Dolores? Makes my name sound like Bundt cake.” I had this new craving and a fresh mind to obtain it. I wanted what Lolita had: an older, more experienced and exciting lover. I wanted a Humbert: a protector, a sweet poison I could live and die happy with. And I knew a guy who could fit the bill.
I’d be sure to meet him later.
I glared at U.J., refusing to take Arthur’s hand.
“You’re a teenager now; don’t you think it’s time to tape down the tantrums, Rhea?” Mama’s bonehead-of-a-brother taunted.
I hate when he has my name in his mouth. I groaned and walked the other way with Arthur. “I don’t care if he’s President of Texas, Ar! He’s ignorant, he’s arrogant. I can’t stand him! Why do we let him boss us around and puppet Ma? She can’t be as useless as he thinks! That’s impossible, right? Mom can’t go through twenty jobs for nothin’. I mean, she landed plenty on her own, huh?”
My brother simmered as we walked down the street. “Cool down there, Rhea. He’s just trying to get Ma back on her feet. She’s had a rough coupla months and he wants to—”
“Control
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