ElleSpeak

Chapter One

Have I told you before that I was the middle child and an only daughter? Many child psychology books and most people with any sense at will tell you that’s a double whammy! Add to this formula the lack of a mother’s presence in a young girl’s life and every time you add it up…it will come up short.

For several years my parents had been having marital problems that inevitably led to a nasty parting of their ways one early morning in the Everglades National Park. If you’ve read my blog you’ll probably remember the story “The Worst Day of My 12 Year Old Life.

That same morning in the Everglades my father and the three of us kids wedged ourselves into our family’s second car, a very small green Chevrolet Corvair, and drove straight through to Indiana. My father always loved driving straight through to wherever he was going. Sometimes, instead of stopping at a gas station my brothers would have to pee in a bottle, and I was given the privilege of squatting and peeing on the ground, hidden between two open car doors while cars roared by on the highway. Anyway, that morning I don’t remember packing clothes or anything else for that matter. We just got in the car and sped straight home.

At one point in Kentucky we hit a large patch of ice while traveling at top speed on the highway. The car spun around three times on the ice before Dad skillfully brought it to a stop in the middle of the road. Luckily there were no cars coming from anywhere for miles and miles. We all sat quietly for just a moment, eyes wide open, holding our breath, just looking at each other, and then bursting into inappropriately loud, hysterical laughter and making comments about soiling our underwear before continuing on our journey.

For me, it was a perfect metaphor for the beginning of a new life without my mother. My life felt like it had just spun out of control and even though I was where I wanted to be, with my father, my emotions were so high and I was so young, I couldn’t get a handle on how or why our lives had changed so drastically, in such a short time. It would take many years for me to fully understand the situation and the mighty impact it had on all of our lives.

Once we were back in Indiana my Dad immediately sued for divorce and full custody of us. In 1961 that was a very unusual thing for a man to do, and even more unusual was the fact that his request was granted. I imagine the judge was told of my mother’s attempt to leave my father and keep the three of us children in Florida without informing him of our whereabouts; and I’m sure he was also told of her mental instability, and I believe his final decision probably had something to do with the fact that when he asked the three of us who we wanted to live with, we all betrayed the love of our mother and whole-heartedly chose our father. Really, it was the only sensible thing to do, and even as young as we were we all knew that.

Many years later my Mom would be diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic and that information would eventually help to illuminate some dark days of my childhood. Unfortunately, at the time of the divorce I didn’t know that. I only knew that my mother, who I loved, but did not always get along with, was no longer in my life. From age 12 to age 20 I would see her fewer than 10 times.

Dad moved us into a new house in a new neighborhood where I didn’t know anyone, and being the only girl in the family, I was given my own bedroom. Dad tried to cheer me up by letting me choose bright orange (my favorite color at the time) carpeting for my new room. But there were many nights I lay awake in that bright, pretty room, and wished I could share a room with someone, anyone, but preferably a sister!

I would soon be attending a new school and starting mid-term in January, but I was painfully shy and didn’t make friends easily, so I was really dreading it. The day before school started I used a new self-tanning product called QT. I guess I hoped a tan would make me feel better about my awkward, acne-faced, adolescent self. My favorite color was orange, but when I looked in the mirror the next morning I was shocked at the bright orange-streaked geek staring back at me from the bathroom mirror. All of my frantic scrubbing and exfoliating attempts were entirely futile. They just made my skin a brighter orange tinged with red. Of course my brothers thought it was perfectly hilarious!

I walked to school alone, slowly dragging my feet every step of the way, hoping against hope that a car might run up on the sidewalk and strike me down before I could get there, but no such luck! When I finally arrived I was late and couldn’t find my home room, so I had to ask for help at the office. By the time I reached my classroom all of my classmates were seated and quietly watching the teacher writing something on the chalkboard at the front of the class. When the classroom door swung open and I stepped into the room, all heads swiveled my way, and even though it was impossible for me to lift my eyes from the fascinating flecks of color that decorated the tiles on the floor, I felt 25 sets of eyes staring at me; and without looking up I knew it wasn’t in the good way I was hoping for when I had slathered the QT all over my body…twice…the night before.

The “tan” slowly disappeared over the next two weeks, but unfortunately, the first impression I had made as the weird girl with orange skin was permanent.