November 22 From Vanessa's Journal - Adapted from Blue Dreams
November 22
11 p.m.
Beast Sightings - Y
Conversations with Waterpark Mom - Y
Marianne looks messy just now. And I pretend Marianne went out with some
friends, a girl's night - and after this, the hair happened. She is a woman with hair extensions.
Marianne laughs. I
don't like what she's wearing.
Her t-shirt isn't flashy, it isn't a blazing color like neon pink, but
it's tiny, and she looks easy in it, especially with her new hair. The things she said earlier about Don and what he said months ago about her tattoo make me
check the clock, it's 11:01 p.m. in Redland, Florida. It's too late to go anyplace.
I ask Waterpark Mom, "Should she
be giving me any advice about boys?"
Waterpark Mom tells me to have the conversation. The Waterpark is in my head. A beach towel drapes around my shoulders,
Marianne's floppy hat covers my eyes, and sunscreen, as thick as toothpaste coats my nose. Marianne and I both laugh and Dad laughs with us. And I like everything about this day and everything about Marianne. We haven't been here in years.
I ask Marianne, "Can we talk about my boyfriend?"
"Not tonight. Tomorrow we'll talk," Marianne says.
I ask Marianne, "Can we talk about my boyfriend?"
"Not tonight. Tomorrow we'll talk," Marianne says.
"Pretend I am the butterfly tattoo on your arm."
But Marianne has left, and I wonder where she and her butterfly go. I hear Don's voice asking Marianne about her butterfly's teeth. The thing is, it does have teeth; if you ask Marianne, she will tell you the teeth are small and cute. But I think they make her butterfly look mean. And I see butterfly teeth everywhere tonight. The teeth are on a cover of a book I'm reading for class, they pop out from my favorite bear from childhood. I check out my teeth when I look in the mirror. They look wrong. I don't remember the boy on the cover of the book ever showing any teeth. I remember he doesn't look happy. But, did my favorite bear ever have any at all? My stomach fills with butterflies bigger than the tattoo on Marianne's arm, and I don't look in the mirror.
Waterpark Mom tells me to think of something peaceful. I dream of Beast and Slurpee's at midnight. To see Beast is like watching Fourth of July fireworks and feeling the sparkles in the sky inside you. All those butterflies go away.
But Marianne has left, and I wonder where she and her butterfly go. I hear Don's voice asking Marianne about her butterfly's teeth. The thing is, it does have teeth; if you ask Marianne, she will tell you the teeth are small and cute. But I think they make her butterfly look mean. And I see butterfly teeth everywhere tonight. The teeth are on a cover of a book I'm reading for class, they pop out from my favorite bear from childhood. I check out my teeth when I look in the mirror. They look wrong. I don't remember the boy on the cover of the book ever showing any teeth. I remember he doesn't look happy. But, did my favorite bear ever have any at all? My stomach fills with butterflies bigger than the tattoo on Marianne's arm, and I don't look in the mirror.
Waterpark Mom tells me to think of something peaceful. I dream of Beast and Slurpee's at midnight. To see Beast is like watching Fourth of July fireworks and feeling the sparkles in the sky inside you. All those butterflies go away.
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