My Own New Town

I wanted to get out of here, as fast as I can, and start a new Life, but..

"Hey, June," I heard as a man walked in the room.

"Mm?" I looked up from tying my bootstrings, frantically pulling tight the knot and grabbing my knapsack and coat and keys. I took one manic last look at him, and lunged toward the door before he could stop me. I unlocked it, but..

I felt the hands around my waist. "Where do you think you're going," he breathed in my ear. I wrestled with him, practically hitting him in the face. "I have to get to my grandmother's house. I need her homebaked bread. It's cinnamon raisin." She had invited me over and I wasn't about to let this guy, I pulled the last finger, unclenching it from my arm, stop me. "Noooooʻoo!" he flung me on the bed, and ordered: "Strip!" "You, no!" I struggled to maintain my dignity as I was reduced to wearing just mere underwear. I covered my chest with my elbows.

"Then I have to call Grandma and cancel," I reached for my phone.

"Leave it alone!" I heard. My head was on the pillow, hitting the wall and I cried and whined. The physical abuse woke me up, though, and when it was all done I rolled over and lay there, defeated. Again. I was used to it, but I still prayed for some relief. The man, sighing got up and was already on the phone to his friend.

"Yea, got to get there tomorrow 'fore the train breaks down again."

I got up and got dressed. My hand- me- downs I wore were poor- fitting, at best. I pulled on my old purple velour shirt and thought of my mom. The joke was, we hated velour but she got it for us anyway. I chuckled.

My dad showed up at my house and demanded I get in the car. I was on the way to my grandmother's on my mom's side, so I asked him if he could drive me there when I got in. Then I timidly asked what he was doing here.

"Oh, I don't know," he shrugged. I guessed he was just checkin up on me. "See ya later," he said then sped off.

My grandmother gave me the bread and then I walked back home, after a long session of tea and crumpets and 'The Price is Right."

On the way, my sister called. "Oh, you want to come with me to see the Rocky Horror Picture Show?" I guessed my brother was performing. "Yea, sure!"

He gave us tickets at the door, and him and his girlfriend did their dance with some oomph, and we clapped. The show was fun, we all poured out of the theater with all the other rockers and headed home. My sister drove, she was staying with our parents before her retreat to Vermont.

"And you really have to eat right," she was saying but I couldn't hear her because my mind was on my neighbor that wouldn't leave me alone. "Okay," I got out of the car and slammed the door and she drove off.

Later that night, my phone rang. "Yes?" I answered, wondering who was behind this unfamiliar # in the middle of the night.

"This is you calling." The voice on the other end, male, started cracking up. "You are calling yourself to tell you that you're doing great!" Oh, then it hung up. I fell asleep on my pillow, in my bed, under my cover.

I woke up not knowing where I was. Out I go, after getting dressed and the people walking by are all strangers but they seem to know me, laughing at me in their eyes. My boyfriend, which the neighbor says he is to me even though he's 10 years my junior, is snowblowing the sidewalk. He nods at me and winks. I smile back, shyly then run around the corner. I realize that I am supposed to meet my sister at the coffee shop down the street.

My light spring jacket is hardly enough to brace against the cold of this January morning, but I wanted to look stylish, so..

But when I see her I jump for joy. My long lost estranged daughter, is with her, with her new baby!

"Surprise, surprise," my sister leads us into the shop and we're seated.

"Mary," I started, trying. "It's ok," my daughter took my hand. She was hopping the baby in her lap. The baby, whose name I had yet to learn, was gurgling happily. I gazed at the baby.

"June!" My sister was trying to get my attention. "What do you want to order?" I looked up and saw the waitress. She was poised and ready to write our order. "Uh, oh! Uh, just a mocha latte," she smiled and was on to my sister. The baby started crying a little bit. There seemed to be a draft in the café.

"Uh, could you shut the windows," my sister frowned. I guessed I was not supposed to talk like that to the waitress. The baby was covered better with her blanket and snuggled a bit. She slopped on a spoon full of baby food. Finally, my daughter got it in her mouth and she was on to the next bite! We enjoyed ourselves immensely, talking and trying to teach the baby how to walk, or more like stand, since its legs were pretty wobbly.

Then my sister wanted to read from the Bible and I was like, wait, what? But she did read, and we all heard of the terrible woes of Rachel and Esther, Job and Moses, Abraham and of Jesus himself.

Then it was time to go, the restaurant was closing, and I was wondering. 'How would my daughter make it jome? Where does she live,' but my sister shook her head, meaning don't worry about it and I climbed in her car, and watched as my daughter went down the street, pushing her newborn in a carriage. Back home, I felt like I needed to see my neighbor. There was like a pull.

"Can I come over," I called and he said yes. I spent the night snuggled in his arms.