The You I've Never Known

my license,

passed the test

with only one

little mistake.

It was Zelda who talked Dad into showing up at the DMV

right when I needed him.

I made the appointment, told him when

to be there. At first he said he couldn’t

get off work, but

Zelda dropped by

the shop, asked

his boss to comply,

and then he had

no real excuse.

Later, he was mad, of course.

You and that bitch double-teamed me. Admit it, you planned it together, didn’t you?

I reminded him

that Zelda and I

rarely even speak,

and when we do,

he’s pretty much

always around,

so, no, we made

no secret pact.

“Maybe she believes I deserve the privilege, or maybe she just wants you to be a little freer to feed your, uh, appetites.”

Then it got really

strange because

he went totally

silent, and stayed

that way until I

saw him again

the next evening and then he said,

Wash up for dinner.

One of my appetites needs to be fed.





Dad Holds Grudges


I’ve known that, like, forever, and have tried to make sense of them. He harbors hate

for my mother, which is well enough deserved; bitterness for Nadia, Cecilia, Jewel, and more than a few whose names I don’t remember, despite

dredging up their faces

in random daydreams. I’m only marginally aware of the details, but it seems the splits were mutually acceptable, so I can’t explain his reasons. Rhonda he escaped from, contraband in pocket; and Leona is little more than a sketch in my memory notebook. These two he rarely mentions. Still, as far as I can tell, none of them deserved his abuse, verbal or otherwise.

And beyond every single one of them, I can’t help but ask myself what it is I’ve done to make my dad hold grudges against me.





What Hurts Most


Is I think his main grudge against me is . . .

me.

For someone so determined to maintain a desperate hold, he

would rather I not be here at all, at least that’s how I

feel much of the time.

It hurts. And the longer we

are entrenched here, where attachment is available to me,

the lonelier this house seems with just the two of us

sharing these rooms.





Sometimes, in Fact


I vastly prefer being alone to subjugation, and for Dad, winning is everything. I tried playing chess with him exactly three times. The first, I’d never played before and didn’t know the rules. What he taught me was how the pieces moved,

and that was enough that time.

The second, I’d learned some basics from a teacher I can barely recall. Strategy wasn’t something I could define, let alone make sense of. What Dad showed me that time

was the cruelty of make-believe war, and oh, how he made fun of my childish upset. After that I refused to sit across the board from him until I had the chance to read up on possible moves and probable outcomes. I truly believed I had that game won until Dad’s bishop managed an end run and put me in checkmate.

He laughed and laughed, and what he made very clear that time was I’d better not lose and cry.





Crybabies


Top Dad’s most-disgusted-by list. Right below come:

queers

(zero exceptions) foreigners

(white Europeans mostly exempt) pussies

(except the feminine kind) cheaters

(his cheating excepted) whiners

(drunk whining forgiven, depending) know-it-alls

(generally in reference to me).

Over the years, I’ve made that list more times than I care to remember.

He’s my dad, and he loves me.

Most of the time we get along fine.

But once in a while I feel like he would’ve preferred to stay child free.





But Everything’s Better with Wheels


School, because I can come

and go on my own schedule,

not have to worry about

waiting for Dad in the morning or Syrah after practice.

Work. I started at the Triple G

last Saturday, and so far, so good, even though I have to get up early on my weekends. They want me there no later than eight,

which makes sense considering the number of horses I’m expected to exercise within two six-hour days.

Over the course of twelve hours, I rode nine, twice each. Boy, was my butt sore come Sunday night, but I figure that’ll get better once I develop some

gluteal calluses. Peg was right.

Most of the Thoroughbreds

are green, which means challenging because their training is elementary, so it’s mostly about staying astride while they gallop out their excess energy. In comparison, Niagara is a lope around the carousel.

Ellen Hopkins's books