continued from Chapter One, entitled Girls On the Road
Petra became my second love, sure, but what about the first? What about the red headed boy who had stolen my heart when I was 12 years old? Was there really anything else to say about him besides that? We had been together a ridiculous amount of time for kids our age. Five years I had belonged to Kevin Daniels as surely as I was part of the McDermott clan. But not now, not this year. This year I was Single.
Kevin and I were meant for each other from first sight, or so said the residents in Sutter who had watched us grow up. We were the town’s sweethearts, taking the reins from Eugene and Emily Wright who’d been born and loved and lived and died in Sutter. The town who’d watched us fall in love now wondered at our motives. They couldn’t understand what possessed us to break up now, after so much time.
We discussed our true reasons with only Eric, Tommy and Seth, the rest of the band. It wasn’t exactly a band related matter, but Kevin’s graduation from high school changed the dynamic of the group the same way. The band would be on hold until we were all high school graduates. Maybe until we were all attending the same college as we hoped. Kevin and I agreed the separation would be a good choice for us as well.
“It’s sort of a solid plan,” Petra said after I told her everything. We had found our way into a trendy, thrifty shop and were sorting through the racks crammed with hangers of old dresses and new designs.
“I believe that too. We have had each other for so long we don’t know what apart feels like, and that must be different now that we’re almost adults. There is no reason that our separation should be the cause of an ugly break up. You can’t expect us to believe a long distance relationship is possible. So while it is not possible we are not going to force it.
“That’s all fine,” Petra said. “But what I don’t get is how Tommy fits into all of this.”
“We’re dating other people,” I answered. I pulled a long sleeved shirt out of the mess of hangers and held it up. Petra frowned at it and I put it back. “Tommy had been waiting for his chance for many, many years.”
“I’m not dumb James. I can see that, but Tommy? What does Kevin say to that? How can he let one of his best friends at his girl like that?”
Kev and I can’t have a problem with each other’s actions this year. He can sleep with every blond bimbo he wants and I can’t say a thing.”
“So he’s not the reason you ran out on Tommy?” Petra asked. “What is?”
I winced at the wording but I couldn’t deny that it was truth. “No, Kevin didn’t seem to mind. He knows as well as the rest of us the way Tommy has always felt. Even before he moved to town Tommy was making his moves on me. He did ask me to marry him when we were six. Kev thinks Tommy deserves a chance I guess. I’m the one, though, who can’t abide dating him right now.”
Petra stared at me for a moment with her eyes squinting into slits, her mouth pursed prettily. I knew this look. I thought of it as her Thinking-Two-Thoughts look. She was considering what I’d said carefully, but…
“Look at this baby,” She said and pulled the dress off the rack. It was a softly glowing black dress modeled after a 50s era cocktail dress. The fabric alone told me it was a reproduction, but it was still gorgeous. She held it up in front of her and posed, “Just call me Kitty,”
I smiled and pulled on the white bonnet with yellow flowered pattern I had been fidgeting with. “Only if you call me Buttercup.”
I wandered away from her, toward the corner of the store that was packed with huge bookcases. I could see the dulling gleaming metal of musical instruments hanging over the stuffed shelves. On a stool nearby a little acoustic guitar leaned against the rows of books. I picked it up and strummed out the ugliest un-tuned chord I’d heard in some time. I tuned it easily, having taken every musical lesson alongside my brother. I could play well, but had none of his natural talent for composing.
I strummed out a few measures of a folky little tune I knew and smiled. It was a nice little instrument. I heard a girlish whoop of appreciation from Petra and glanced up to see what she’d found. Standing between us was a friendly looking middle aged woman. She was dressed in the same style as most of the clothes on the racks, handmade and unique. I knew she and Petra were a lot alike. Most of Petra’s clothing was made and modified on her own as well.
“That guitar is going home with you,” the woman told me.
“Oh, no,” I said and put it down. “It’s not even for sale.”
“Sure it is,” She said and turned toward the front door. I followed her. “I just don’t put a price tag on it. I leave it sitting over there un-tuned and I will only consider selling it to someone who tunes it well and plays something original. It’s been sitting there over a year.”
I laughed and glanced over at Petra who was pushing through hangers more slowly as she listened.
“Was that something of your own you played?”
“No,” I shook my head. She went behind the counter and sat on a stool. On the surface before her a beadwork project was laid out. “No, someone else wrote that.”
“One of the young men you two were speaking of just now?” the woman asked with a half smile.
I laughed, “No, actually one of my brothers.”
“Oh, I see,” she said with a nod. “You’re the girl with all the brothers,” she turned to petra who approached with an armload of clothes. “And you are…”
“The girl with the drunk, socialite mother and the absentee father who gave her a credit card to make up for it.” Petra answered. “I usually wear more make up.”
“Of course you do,” the woman laughed. “And I am the crazy hippy who talks to her cats. It’s a pleasure to meet you here today. But I was serious about the guitar. It is yours.”
“She’ll take it,” Petra answered for me before I could speak. “You can sing to me while we drive.”
The crazy hippy lady went back to her beadwork and Petra pulled me into a discussion about her choices. She had picked clothes for me again, just as she had last night. Everything was flashier than I was used to but just as yesterday I trusted her completely. I agreed to try everything on. We ducked into the huge dressing room that hid behind a curtain in another corner of the store. The walls were lined with big antique mirrors and the curtain was heavy and ornate. We pulled on outfit after outfit, trading and exchanging and deciding. The proprietress, Mindy got involved, picking up on our tastes and handing us pieces she knew we’d like.
Petra put the glowing black cocktail dress on and she squealed when she saw how it fit. The straight across line of the top of the dress and straps framed her shoulders and her face. She looked like a model. The flash of pink in her hair hinted at a yet undreamed outfit far less refined that would scream Petra’s name.
“Its great on you,” I told her. “Though you may need new shoes to wear it with,” I nodded to her broken down duct taped skater shoes. She laughed.
“You try it on,” she told me as she unzipped it. “I love that we’re the same size.”
I did as I was told but was unimpressed with the result. I shrugged but Petra squealed. “Oh! You look fantastic, Buttercup!” she told me.
“Thank you, Kitty, but the dress is all yours. I prefer jeans any day.”
“Yes, yes, you and your jeans,” She sighed. We got our own clothes back on and started cleaning up the mess we’d made.
While Petra was sorting her Dos from her Don’ts I wandered once more around the store. At the front of the store I stood at the window and looked out at the street beyond. On a shelf running beneath the windows I noticed a row suitcases, some of them vintage, some of them modern. They stood there together companionably, the perfect blend of old and new, like everything else in the store. I pulled one out and opened it, admiring the buckles and rivets and original lining. I heard Petra strum the guitar and glanced at her.
“Wouldn’t it be cool to travel the road and play music for change?” Petra asked.
“Matt did it the summer after he graduated,” I said of my second oldest brother. I closed the suitcase and pulled out another. This case had a shocking burst of red lining inside the dark brown leather. “Only he doesn’t play an instrument. He washed dishes and did field work for money.”
“That would be fun too,” Petra said.
I shot her a confused frown and she grinned “I am just saying that it would be a way to make money and keep moving. We can cross the country and stop at every dance club we find.”
I smiled at her, but rolled my eyes.
“Come on! We already left home,” she said. “I’m buying enough clothing to get us through three nights of clubbing and there will be more stores in more cities. And Laundromats! All we need are a couple suitcases,” she nodded at the case still dangling from my fingers. “We’ll stop at a drugstore for shampoo and a toothbrush for me. And loads of make up… We’d be set.”
“Petra,” I warned.
“What could be more fun?” She begged.
“It would be dangerous.”
“For who? The chick with the combat experience of four older brothers? Or me, with daddy’s credit card?” she grinned. “If we get in trouble, we can get out of it. When we get tired, we go home.”
She crossed to where I was standing, still holding the case. She took it out of my hands and looked at it. “I like this one; it’s not really Buttercup’s style. This one,” she bent and pulled the blue-green one from the row. It was a dark cyan with a reptile pattern pressed into the surface. The buckles were a bit tarnished and one corner was scuffed. “This one is yours. What do you say?”
The suitcases looked good standing side by side in our backseat. My new guitar kept them company. Petra lamented that her car was not an older model; more vintage to go with the cases, to go with Kitty and Buttercup. That she would consider trading away her entire car to better match her outfit did not surprise me about Petra. I prepared myself to talk some sense into her, should her wild, roving thoughts light upon the idea.
We went to a few more stores to get some clothing essentials like underwear and socks, but we finally ended up at a drugstore. It was two in the afternoon by then and the place was dead. We sat on the floor in the make up aisle and our conversation finally continued. Petra apologized for having cut it short in the thrift store, “I have a problem gossiping when I’m clothes shopping. But when I’m make-up shopping gossip is a must.”
“If you are willing to see what else is out there, then why are you not willing to have this date with Tommy? You know there are feelings so it would be a good time. I think you two would have a lot of fun, you already do.”
“It is exactly that reason,” I answered her. I watched her sort through the tubes and cases of color with a precise hand I couldn’t make sense of. She tested colors on me and made her Two-Thoughts face as she listened.
“I love Kevin and I already know that I want to be with him at the end of this year. I feel that so completely that I can’t even describe it,” I paused, struggling for words. I could have painted a picture of it for her. It would have been brilliant yellow and white and green; and when she saw it she would surely understand the truth of my love for Kevin. How this year apart didn’t really mean anything because Sutter was right, we were meant for each other from first sight.
“I have no intention of falling in love this year,” I said finally. “And I know from our friendship that my relationship with Tommy would be basis for one of those great loves that stay with you until you die. I already have that. At the end of the year I would be forced to choose between the two of them. Kevin doesn’t see the danger the way I do, but there is danger in that choice.
“I love Tommy. He is my best friend, but I cannot make that choice next year. I would lose one of them. I can’t lose Tommy.”
“How do you know you would pick Kevin, sweetie?” she asked. “Do you like this color?”
“No,” I answered. “And because if I chose Tommy I would lose Kevin, and that is not something I can even think about.” I squirted a bit of lotion on my hands and rubbed it in. I sighed, “That was awfully melodramatic.”
“I get it though,” she smiled and started putting her no choices away.
“I just made my choices before the feelings were deeper and the choice would have hurt us all more. I preempted danger,” I said firmly.
“Come!” Petra said and stood. “We must finish our shopping and then find another gross motel for our collection and I am going to cut your hair!”
“What?” I asked, frightened and surprised.
“Nothing drastic,” She said, flicking her own crazily cut locks off her shoulder. “No colors either… unless you want to…”
I smiled, “Maybe buttercup really likes that suitcase shade of green.”
“Ooh,” Petra considered. She ran her fingers through my bangs, her other hand resting gently on my shoulder. “Green can be dangerous, but just the right shade would do amazing things to those pretty blue eyes, and the dark shade of your hair will be a fantastic accent, we don’t even have to dye it black.”
She smiled at me “Buttercup, Kitty is going to give you a makeover.”
****
I dialed my grandmother’s number from our new motel room while Petra was in the shower washing the bleaching agent out of her own hair. Her pink stripes were being morphed from pink to a bright crimson red. My hair had been bleached white in two stripes. The skunk white stripes in my dark hair amused me.
“Grandma’s house,” My cousin Tyler answered the phone.
“Tyler, it’s James, can you let me talk to grandma?”
“Oh James you are in so much trouble!” Tyler laughed.
“Yeah, I know, kid. Let me talk to grandma.”
I could hear talking and yelling in the background. I also heard the measured, easy notes of one of the town’s children doing their lessons on grandma’s piano. I heard her voice calling out instructions to the pupil and then she picked up the phone.
“Jamie darling, you are too young for a mid-life crisis,” grandma said. She was the only person who called me Jamie without it being punishment. With grandma I would always be her little Jamie-face. Her darling, only granddaughter.
“Thank goodness you called your dad. He said you’ll be back tomorrow or so?”
“Grandma, I need you to tell dad that I’m not coming home just yet.
“Jamie,” grandma started.
“I can’t be in Sutter right now grandma, with everyone judging me over what Kevin and I decided, and now what I’ve done to Tommy. I can’t face Tommy right now. I don’t know what to say to him, I don’t know what to say to any of those boys. I’m with Petra and we’re doing this girl thing that I have never really had before. We just want to hang out a little while before we come home.”
“And I can’t tell Dad because he is going to give me that look and even though I’m hundreds of miles away I’ll still be able to see it. He can give me the look when I come back. I just need to put it off until I know how to deal with it. Until I know how to deal with everything.”
“And what exactly are your plans?” she asked me.
“We don’t have any, beyond dying our hair ridiculous colors and dancing all night long.” I answered.
“And when will you be home?” she asked.
“In a little while,” I said. “I’ll keep everyone updated. I’ll call you every day and you can yell at me every day if you want to.”
Grandma laughed. Dad was laid back because grandma was too. And I knew she was aware of the feelings I was having. She had married into the McDermotts and gained 3 brothers-in-law, then had 4 of her own sons and now boasted 10 grandsons. Men were the McDermott curse, or so said the women who loved them. And we did love them, every single one of them.
She imparted the same wisdoms that Dad had given me, and then elaborated on a list of her own. When I checked my bank account the next day I found that she had put 700 dollars into it. “Go,” she was saying. “Get out of this man’s town and be a girl.”
Petra sat on the bed next to me and filed her nails as my conversation ended. She smiled at me when I hung up.
“The story will spread from her,” I told Petra. “I am going to start sending post cards.”
“And we are going to take so many pictures,” she snapped one of me. “Now come, let’s chop that hair off!”
Angela Calminetti, mother of five, New Age practitioner and gifted psychic and telepath, is proud of her family ties and does everything she can to make sure that all of her younger siblings are as happy in love and marriage as she is…whether they wa
