Wednesday, February 21, 2007
New Beginning 224
I sat bouncing off the sticky beige back seat as the car bounced out of deep ruts in the road. A relative I didn’t know, big-boned Donna-Something, some double name that sounded stopped-short, like hitting your face in a wall, talked away in the front seat with the tall boy driving. Donna-Something looked and sounded desperately happy, hammering away with her loud voice as streams of hot dust from the road sprayed us through big open car windows.
Donna said she was studying piano and gonna go to college to study more piano, because she was gonna be a pianist. Her aunt was paying for it so she could make something of herself, she said.
I figured Donna must have just learned the word pianist and thought it sounded really smart, because she repeated that word in every other staccato sentence coming out of her mouth. And I figured her friend that was a boy thought it sounded like she was saying penis, because every time Donna-Something said the word pianist, and she said it a lot, the boy’d chuckle under his breath. Then they’d glance back at me to see if I understood the joke. Then he’d do another deep chuckle. And that would get her going again.
I tried my best not to listen to them, my only thought being, Some college somewhere, no matter how horrible, actually wants my Too-Low-On-The-Tree-Branch Relative to attend their idea of higher education? A girl snickering over the word "pianist"?
A coil in the seat did a number on my butt as we hit another pothole and a rock flew in the window and pinged me on the side of the head. I think Tall Lanky Boy aimed for any pothole and even roadkill on purpose. He seemed like the type. They could have at least turned on the radio, so I wouldn't have to listen to their ignorant comments.
"I'm going to be the world's finest pianist, working it like no one's seen before!" Big-Bone Donna declared. Lanky Tall Boy chuckled and eyed me through the rearview mirror.
I finally snapped. "Can't you just call it what it is? A cock manipulated by a fifty-cent whore?"
And in that one, horrible moment, I realized why this backseat was so sticky.
Opening: Robin Sinnott.....Continuation: Brenda Bradshaw