Post by Demi Stratford on Sept 18, 2020 13:17:45 GMT -5
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One pill makes you larger,
and one pill makes you small
and the ones that mother gives you,
don’t do anything at all
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“The man on the television was my Father, wasn’t he?”
There it was. I had been waiting weeks for her to bring up the topic, to ask the questions I knew she had already formed, but I had never expected her to spit it out so plainly and I certainly wasn’t expecting it to happen now.
Before we can talk about what's happening now I have to tell you about what happened before. Seeing him on the television the night of Ted’s party put me into a proper state, if I’m being honest. Thankfully, Ted and Nita were there to tend to us and make sure I didn’t begin to get too out of hand, as I have been known to do from time to time. Nita led me away to the other room and stroked my back while Ted kept Charlotte busy greeting the arriving party guests. We were lucky to have them, really. My mind was racing in a million different directions, threatening to split off and diverge down the road of wolves and fire if I wasn’t able to carefully get a handle on myself. I think that Nita must have sensed this as she sat me down in a chair in their bedroom, taking a hairbrush to my hair while speaking in tones as soft as the petal pink of the walls as if she were worried I would bolt like a frightened animal should she be any less gentle in her approach.
“There, there, dear. We’ll just take cover back here until you get your wits about you.”
I knew that I should respond to her, after all, she was so very kind to take care of me. But I just couldn’t seem to get my mouth to begin to form the words, no matter how hard I tried. My mind felt like a radio someone kept changing the channels on, one minute disco the next heavy metal.
“I could curse that silly man for turning on that television and putting you into such a state.”
The part of me that was still in there somewhere wanted to speak up and tell her that it wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t have known as I hadn’t told him but I still couldn’t make the words come out. Swim, swim up to the surface, you have to do better than this.
“Don’t worry, dear, you don’t need to tell me. I could guess the idea of the mystery man judging by the state of my glass on the floor. He’s a handsome one, isn’t he?”
He. Not the imposter, not the one from the dream, the real He. I didn’t think that I would ever see him again, not himself, anyway. But there he had been like electrified neon blazing over the television airways. It seemed like there was something important about what I had seen on the screen, something that hadn’t sunk in yet. An elusive thought perched on the tip of my tongue, or maybe on the tip of my brain was more apt. I kept trying to grab at the thread only to have it slide through my slippery fingers. What are you trying to tell me?
“Of course, I’m sure all of that business going on was just for show. That’s how that business works, of course.”
The words began to solidify the thought I was struggling to hold onto through the flipping channels of my brain. What was she talking about? What business is going on? All I could see were his eyes, etched into my brain like an engraving into silver. They were the same, yet they weren’t. Before they had been soft, something warm and comforting to sink into like this old chair I found myself in now. The eyes on the airways weren’t soft or comforting, they were harsh.
“I imagine he and the other man are probably friends, aren’t they? I’m sure they went off and had a drink together as soon as the camera cut away.”
The other man? What other man? Wait, wait, I can see it now. I can see his face contorting as he struggled for breath and to speak all at once. The thread suddenly became rope and I pulled myself up over the mental ledge.
“Damon Riggs.”
The name was barely a whisper over the murmur of the party from the other room. I remember everything now, all of it. He was there on the screen with Damon, right back where I left him. All these years gone, all these years nothing more than a hateful imposter and then he was back, himself again, just as I had wished for. But he was still just right back in the same cycle I left him in, all these years, all this pain, and for what? No forward progress. Everything is different yet it’s all the same.
“Is that his name? Oh, he played his part wonderfully. People don’t give those men enough credit for what they do, at their heart they’re really just actors.”
The anger hit me all at once, an avalanche of unfiltered rage. Thirteen years, thirteen years of hell on earth all for you to be right back in the same spot, fighting the same battle with the same silly little man. The man who cost us everything. And here you are, still playing silly little games where you never truly win against a man who's never truly lost. Damon Riggs goes home at night to his family, to his pack, and you - you go into yourself empty and alone because you can’t just leave it alone. You can’t let it go. You can’t move on. How much do you have to lose before you realize how much you’ve already lost? I could feel the rage moving me, propelling me forward, calling to part of me that spends most of the time numb and dormant.
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Go ask Alice
When she's ten feet tall
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“Did you hear me?”
Her voice startled me out of my own mind. Swim, swim up to the surface, to the here and now. I ran the brush through my hair for a final time then placed it down on the vanity next to the hodgepodge of pill bottles as I turned toward Charlotte where she sat on the foot of the bed.
“Of course I heard you, I was just trying to think of a good answer.”
The look on her face said she plainly didn’t believe that but she sat, arms crossed across her chest waiting for me to give her some lie to pull apart. I got the sense that tonight she would not be gentle with me, as she usually was. Tonight she had decided that she wanted answers and by God, I was going to give them to her or else. My little girl, all grown up in the blink of an eye.
“How did you know?”
I didn’t realize eyes could roll that far back into a person's head until that very moment.
“You said his name: Stratford. That’s our last name.”
Oh, I did didn’t I.
“It’s a common enough name. Lots of people are named Stratford.”
“Don’t.”
I sighed then, placing my palms on my knees as I drew a breath in preparing for something I’d spent years avoiding. So many lies, so many secrets, all leading to this very moment here with my Charlotte Sometimes. She deserved answers, didn’t she? You deserve answers too, a voice whispered in my thoughts.
“Yes, the man on the television was your father.”
Emotions flew across her face so rapidly I had trouble following them all. Triumph, confusion, fear, caution. It only took a moment before her face finally settled into blank curiosity and I could see her making a mental checklist of things that she wanted to know but wasn’t quite sure how to ask.
“So… he’s a wrestler?”
“Yes.”
“How did you meet?”
It was such an innocent question that it actually caught me off guard and I had to work to regain my mental footing and try to find a suitable response.
“A long time ago, before you were ever even thought of, I was also in that business under a name I will not repeat lest you run off to your room and plug it into google.”
Charlotte raised her eyebrows at me as if I were daft clearly saying: I’ll find it with or without your help. I frowned but continued on.
“Your father and I were paired together purposes by the people who call the shots, we worked well together and found a certain kinship off screen. He and I were a lot alike in those early days, we had a lot in common and we were somewhat… apprehensive of the others around us. Eventually the on screen partnership translated to off screen romance and we moved into a little apartment in the French Quarter to build a life together.”
“What happened?”
This was the part I was dreading. How do I explain something I didn’t even understand myself? She wouldn’t find any of my reasons good enough and there were things that I couldn't tell her, things she wasn’t old enough to hear yet. Maybe a half truth would suffice?
“There was a situation with another wrestler. Things started out well enough, but the other man and your father got too wrapped up in the what was happening and let it start to bleed into everything else in their lives. It started out as small things, a personal dig here and there, a punch that wasn’t expected. Then it began to grow and get out of control. It did something to the both of them, they changed, consumed by hatred for each other. We tried to bring them out of it, but neither would listen. Two hard headed stubborn old bulls.”
Charlotte leaned forward as I spoke, absorbing the words to replay over in her mind later. I kept talking, hoping that if I only kept my mouth moving something sufficient enough to quell her thirst would fall out.
“So, one day I had enough. I had tried so many times to get through to him and he wouldn’t hear of it. He just kept telling me that as soon as things were finished we’d take a break, go away for awhile. But every time the deadline came there was an excuse why we couldn’t, why we had to wait just a little longer. I don’t think he ever intended to go anywhere, only to appease me long enough to come up with another tactic. One day, I had enough waiting and I left.”
“He didn’t come after you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know if he tried and couldn’t find me, found me and decided to leave me to come back in my own time or if he never looked at all.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire. Lighting would surely strike me down for that one. But how could I tell her the truth? She was growing up, yes, but she was still a child. It wasn’t time for her to know the complexities of adult relationships or either one of our own independent issues, her father and I. Please let her buy this, please. She wanted to ask something, I could tell by looking at her body language, but she was working herself up to it.
“What is it?”
For a few moments I watched her face as she struggled with something I couldn’t possibly guess at before she calmed and I knew whatever she would say next wouldn’t be the thing that was really on her mind. She’d wait until a better moment.
“I want to meet him.”
Yes, I’d assumed that was coming. I knew the minute I saw him flash across that screen that she would want to seek him out and get answers on her own. But, not yet. I’d spent years protecting her from this and I wasn’t about to have all of my careful planning blown to bits in the matter of weeks. There were so many more issues that needed to be dealt with first before she could ever ever be exposed to him. Knowing that he’s never progressed beyond where I left him a decade ago steeled my resolve even more: it’s not safe.
“First before that can happen I need to see him. It’s been a very long time and there are things he and I need to discuss before that can happen.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No, you aren’t. I’ve already spoken with Nita and Ted, you’ll stay with them while I’m gone and then if it all goes well you can meet him. I mean it, Charlotte. That’s final.”
Charlotte stood, petulant but resigned knowing she wouldn’t win this battle. She walked out of the room without another word.
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And if you go chasing rabbits,
and you know you're going to fall
Tell 'em a hookah-smoking caterpillar
has given you the call
and you know you're going to fall
Tell 'em a hookah-smoking caterpillar
has given you the call
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“She isn’t going to buy this for long.”
Ugh, you again. I turned to face myself sitting in the chair across the room, picking at an imaginary piece of lint on the arm absentmindedly. The other me was wearing scarlet red, head to toe. I hated when she wore red, she looked like the devil if the devil had nothing better to do than to sit there nitpicking my furniture.
“I didn’t ask for your two cents, thank you very much. This is my problem to deal with.”
The other me looked up then, an amused smile playing across her slick crimson lips. She clasped her hands across her knees leaning toward me as she spoke.
“Oh really? You think you can do this without me? Well be my guest, dear. No, go on! Go face your darling boy and tell him what you did, let me know how it goes for you.”
The other me is insufferable but she did have a point. I have come to rely on her in certain situations, if I'm to be totally honest. Sometimes when things are very trying I just don’t seem to cope well, that’s when she steps in and takes over letting me have a little rest. She does the things that need doing, things I don’t have the heart or stomach for. She had me and she knew it. I needed her.
“I thought you’d see it my way. He won’t be happy with you. No sir, not happy at all.”
“He has every right to be angry with me. What I did was a terrible thing.”
My hands were clenched so tight the skin was mottled white. Relax. Slowly I relaxed my hands and smoothed down the nightgown over my legs. The other me stood, stamping her foot down and placing her hands on her hips.
“Excuse me? He has every right to be angry? Is that what I just heard you say? What about us? What about our anger!”
I could feel the heat coming off her in waves as smoke began to form around her feet and waft upward.
“Fighting that little miscreant was more important to him than you ever were. He finally comes back to himself and what does he do? Goes right back to that fucking worm and picks up just where he left off. He certainly isn’t out there thinking about YOU, is he? No. He only has eyes for little Damon Riggs, you’re nothing more than a footnote in their grand story. A catalyst to move the story forward. You’re set dressing.”
“You’re wrong. I was important to him. Am important. I know him in ways you never did, it was real.”
“Oh really? You haven’t seen the man in thirteen years. For all you know he could have easily replaced you by now.”
“He wouldn’t do that. And even if he had, he wasn’t himself.”
The other me clicked her tongue at me as she moved to pace the room like some great caged beast. That analogy was probably way too close to the truth for comfort.
“I want a piece of him when we finally get him in our grasps. He promised to take care of us, he promised. Instead he let us get hurt, drove us away with his single minded obsession with Damon Riggs. He didn’t even come for us! He just left us here with Charlotte to rot and die while he became a new man.”
She laughed bitterly.
“Please calm down, please. I promise you that it’s going to work out. He’ll be so happy to see us.”
“Yeah, you think so lovey? How happy will he be about Charlotte, hm?”
That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? I had to believe that he would welcome her with all the love I knew was in his heart. With gentle eyes and soft words, poetry and song. She needed him so much and I felt in my bones that now that he was back to himself he needed her. He needed both of us. But if that was true, why had I run?
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Remember what the Dormouse said
Feed your head, feed your head
Feed your head, feed your head
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