My Own Room (The Arizona years part 3)

I picked a Jr. High closest to our house according to the map and I had walked it out already. It was quite a ways, but, I knew it was walkable. It was called Brian C. Doolan Jr. High and it was an intimidating large brick building with a red Spanish tiled roof and a court yard. I'd never seen a school that big or a school with a courtyard, so I was excited to go there and register. I had a problem though, and I didn't know how to solve it. I had no school clothes. All I had was what I'd brought with me in that beat up suitcase from Iowa and that consisted of one pair of faded jeans, two pairs of old shorts and a few too big worn out shirts. I owned one pair of faded underwear that I washed out every night. I did not and never had owned pajamas, nightgowns, a robe, slippers or anything normal people took for granted. I didn't need those things, but, I did need clothes for school. You weren't allowed to wear pants to school like you can now. Girls had to wear dresses or skirts or you'd be sent home. My nervousness mounted and in a panic I finally addressed the situation to my step father, after all, he controlled the finances, and to my shock he was quite amicable and said "Of course you will get school clothes. Your mother and I will go and buy you some suitable clothes." I was so damned relieved that I didn't even question the fact that they weren't consulting me about the choices.
*
My mother had never shopped for brand new clothes for me in her life, so she was surprised at his generosity. I was too. My step father was an odd man. He wasn't mean to me and he didn't hate me. I just wasn't his kid and he put up with having me around because he liked it that my mother would work and her whole paycheck went to paying for the house and he could save money that way. Everyone had a purpose to him. Even me. If he had to put up with children that weren't his to better his finances, that was fine, but, they'd better have a use and stay out of his way. He didn't like being bothered. He didn't want to see us, hear us or be around us when he was home. We respected that and to all intents and purposes, we ceased to exist when he came home and stayed out of his way. And I had chore lists a mile long, which I always completed. I was free help...all I cost him was room and board. I, on the other hand, knew what the deal was and I was very happy to be well fed. In this new place we had real food all the time. I never wondered where my next meal was coming from and I never went to bed hungry. We always had the basics. Lunch meat, bread, canned soup, even cereal and milk were always on hand and I found that amazing. We were not allowed to eat anything we wanted, but, he certainly made it clear we were not to starve and we could make ourselves a sandwich or soup for lunch every single day. To a kid like me, that made him seem like some kind of hero. He also stocked generic soda and we were allowed one can a day. A luxury! I learned to make sun tea and I learned to like it. I was to make my lunch, and take it outside. I was not allowed in the house much. Supper was started by me and taken over and served when my mom got home from work. I learned to make soups and stews from scratch and other simple things. A note was left on the refrigerator instructing me of what supper was to consist of that day. I quickly learned to cook and cook well. We were not allowed to waste food. At that time we ate supper at the kitchen table, my brother and I, alone. We were given fifteen minutes to eat and clean up. The parents ate later after we disappeared. Sounds strange, I know..but, I didn't feel abused by his rules. I did not hate him. I found out later, he had no interest in beating me, that wasn't Buddha's way. He only did that because he thought that's what my mother expected of him and he wanted to please her. He had no clue about children and didn't know how to relate to them. We were foreign objects from another planet to him and all he wanted was for us to be unseen in his presence. I didn't think that was unfair and I made it happen. Except on those rare times when I had to ask him for something..like school clothes.
*
I could barely contain my excitement when they came home from shopping and brought in a big bag of new stuff...for me! Oh, my, god. I'd never had new things, it was inconceivable. I tore into the bag and I found a plaid pleated skirt..it was to big. My mother even bought my yard sale clothes too big so I'd "grow into them" But, I didn't grow that much and everything was always way too big. The skirt looked babyish too. It looked like something Cindy Brady would wear on the Brady Bunch and that's probably where they got the idea. The Brady Bunch kids had really bad clothes, no one dressed like that in real life. I swallowed and looked some more. I also found a plain white blouse, too big, to go with the plaid skirt. Okay. I could make it work. There was also a navy blue straight skirt, way too long and a light blue button down dress shirt. I was thinking, well, not what I'd hoped for, but, not dorky or embarrassing. That's the most important thing at that age. Near the bottom of the bag, I found a simple A line sleeveless dress with a scoop neck. It was pale yellow. It was way too long, but, other than that, it was perfect. I couldn't believe my step father picked out that dress. He had picked all the clothes out except the plaid skirt..the one thing I didn't like. I loved that dress! I had some hemming and taking in to do, but, I knew how. The real miracle was that he had included a pair of white flat sandals in just my size, a package of new underpants and a pair of pantyhose! There was also a small Amethyst colored necklace and a pair of small matching stud earring. I couldn't believe it. I didn't have pierced ears, they weren't big in Iowa, but, I knew they were common in Arizona and I had sewing needles. I'd be wearing the earrings on the first day of school one way or another. And that completed my school wardrobe.
*
I later found out that my step father thought our family image was important and while he wouldn't spend much on me, he made sure I did not look like a ragged orphan anymore because that would reflect poorly on his image. To the world outside we were the perfect family. A handsome businessman and his beautiful well dressed wife and their two well behaved, well groomed children. Behind closed doors, none of us knew each other and life was isolated and strange. It was a silent world where each of us lived our separate lives with no interaction. We could go days without saying a word to each other and years without having a conversation.
*
I wore the dark blue plain skirt, hemmed into not too short mini, and the white shirt to school the first day. I also wore the pantyhose and the white sandals. I wanted to wear the great yellow dress, but, I didn't know what kids wore in Arizona, so I settled for looking normal. Normal was great, it was when you stood out that you became a laughing stalk. You can bet I was wearing the earrings in my sore red ear lobes, I'd gotten up the nerve to shove the needle through and it hadn't even hurt that much. Putting the earrings in did though. I managed to get both holes even. I wore my shoulder length hair straight with a slight flip at the end. I had no idea what hairstyles were in and I hoped it wasn't a mistake. I just wanted to look clean and ordinary. Something I had never achieved before.
*
Apparently, I was successful. I registered in the office and they asked me for records from my last school. I panicked, I had nothing. But, they took my word and said my parents could send for them and bring them in and they showed me to my first class. My parents never sent for any records, nor did they ever step foot in that school and the matter was eventually forgotten. That first week is a blur, it was the first time I had ever attended different classrooms with different teachers for each subject and the students changed with each class too, so you eventually knew who everyone was, even in a school so big. I managed not to stand out for any reason. It was wonderful. I noticed one thing that seemed to be missing..poor kids. I don't remember any poor kids in bad clothes there. There were some average kids who didn't wear designer stuff, but, most of them seemed to be really wealthy. The popular group of girls had designer bags and shoes that cost more than my parents made in a month and they changed them with the color of their daily outfit, which became a fascinating fashion show to someone like me. Some of them came to school in chauffeur driven limos..unheard of in Iowa. It really was a new world and quite eye opening.
*
When I returned home from school that first day, my step father had taken the day off and started working on my new room. I have to tell you that despite his strange notions on family life, the fact that he liked me enough to buy me new school clothes and that he was building an honest to god room for me in the garage touched me deeply and I silently vowed to be a decent daughter to him. The front was finished when I came home. He'd taken out the garage door facing the street and replaced it with this dark wooden wall. He'd stained it and it looked nice, it had a long narrow window across the top, where the door used to be. It looked very modern. Now, I look back and realize, that was the part you could see from the street. What you couldn't see was the inside and the door which was in the back yard with the hole left from his pool dream gone bad. It was pretty ugly and desolate back there and that's where I would enter "my room." It also didn't have any other windows and that long window didn't open. Umm, this was Arizona, right? I knew there was no plan to get me an air conditioner. It was going to be hot in there. Hot is not even a good descriptive word for what that place became in the Summer. It was unholy. Unbearable. Unforgivable. Inside, he'd done nothing. It was made of cement blocks with adobe over them on the outside. It had a cement floor. His tools and spare tires and garage junk was still stacked at one end, where you came in the door and there was a faucet with a drain in the floor. It's where the hose hooked up. The other end had been cleared out, but, his tall work table was still there. I looked at it and he told me that was my bed now. I could take the thin foam cushion I'd been sleeping on and put it on top of the table and that was where I would sleep. They bought the dog a new bed. That table was high, and I had to climb on a chair to get into bed. It hardly mattered because you could only sleep in that sauna in the Winter. In the Summer I learned to put a ladder up outside and I'd take my foam cushion to the roof and sleep under the stars. I hated the Japanese Beetles that flew around at night. I was scared shitless of them and developed a bug phobia that has lasted until this day. But, that's the way it was. You could, in all seriousness, suffocate trying to sleep in a closed out building in Arizona's Summers. The Japanese Beetles were 4-6 inches long, huge and mean. When they hit you, you bruised. If you were unlucky enough to get pinched by one, the only thing you could do was grab it's huge body, pulling off a good chunk of your own flesh and throw it as hard as you could. People from Arizona know that's the truth. Gowd, I hated those fucking things. HERE is a photo of them, scroll down to the second picture. The occasional Diamond Back rattlers came out at night too, it was too hot for them during the day, but, they were almost rare in the city. Almost. I just looked carefully where I walked and avoided them. The beetles however, still give me nightmares. The backyard was not a friendly place.
*
Inside the garage was not friendly either. I found out we had tons of Black Widows who liked the dark spaces inside the garage. I would trap them and take them outside, they probably came right back. But, they never seemed aggressive unless you bothered their webs. I just didn't want them in my bed and I made a habit of doing a "spidy check" every night. And nearly every night, I'd find one. So, basically, the step father I had recently become fond of put me in hell and left me there. Thanks, Dad. I wasn't so fond of him after I was not allowed to even sleep in the house. I was sort of getting an attitude by then. I mean, I'd put up with a lot, but, jesus christ, now I was really persona non grata and I hadn't done a damn thing to deserve it. And if I thought I needed more than three outfits for school or a second pair of shoes, I was wrong. He was done with me. Well, I was done with him too, he could kiss my ass. And my mother could kiss it twice for marrying him and letting him do this to me. I stayed silent, out of their way and found a life.
*
Since I was only allowed in the house twice a day and I was only allowed to shower once a week, I got resourceful. I simply could not go to school dirty. I was too old for that shit and I wanted to be clean. I found out that you could piss down that drain in the floor and rinse it down with the hose so it wouldn't smell like an outhouse. If I had to do anything else, and it wasn't my scheduled time in the house, I'd walk to a gas station about two miles away. I refused to be dirty. I took the hose and I'd hook it to the scubby Palo Verde tree in an isolated spot behind the tall Oleander hedge and I wired it up to a plastic milk jug I'd punched holes in. It worked as an outdoor shower. It was just cold water, but, it worked fine. I'd steal some soap and shampoo from Andrew's inside supply and I kept it out there. I took one worn out towel. If he ever noticed, he never said. If either of them noticed that their so called daughter was pissing in a drain and showering in the bushes they never said a word. I don't think they gave a shit what I did as long as they never had to lay eyes on me again. It was shameful to me and it's hard to write about, but, that's how I lived.
*
It was a strange existence. At school I became one of those odd kids who fit in with everyone and no one. I could hang with the rich girls one day, the Mexican girls the day after and the hoods the day after that. I didn't really belong in any group, but, I had no enemies. I couldn't get my hands on any designer duds, but, after a month or so, I learned to cut down some of my mom's cast offs and I had made three more outfits. I never looked weird, I could mix and match and so no one really noticed how little I had. In front of people, I was a perfectly ordinary girl living a normal life, no one knew my secret. That I lived in the yard and pissed in a drain. I didn't dare invite anyone over. How would I explain it? It would be all over school and I'd become that pathetic poor kid that I'd been in Iowa and I wasn't going to let that happen again.
*
Things changed when I met GiGi. GiGi Battalliano was a rich girl. The richest girl in school. She was little, like me, and pretty. She had slightly bad skin, but, an adorable figure, long carmel hair in curls down her back and a wardrobe Posh Spice would have envied. GiGi had a full length genuine silver mink coat she wore to the seventh grade. She wore real Diamonds and not small ones. She even wore Diamond studded sun glasses. I found out later, they were real. Her father's driver would drop her off in the black polished limo every morning. GiGi was someone all the kids stared at, you just couldn't help it. I saw a pair of shoes GiGi wore in a magazine once, they cost $3,000 dollars. GiGi wore them to gym class. GiGi was quiet, she didn't talk unless a teacher called on her and then she wasn't nervous, she just had an air about her, like, sigh, don't bother me. I found out that the other rich girls avoided GiGi and wouldn't even eat lunch with her despite her obvious privilege, because GiGi's father was a rumored Mafia head. I never found out if that was true or not, but, I think I can assume it was. So, GiGi had everything..but, friends.
*
I talked to everybody, I'd been without company for so long, I just couldn't help it. I had a habit of making quick jokes, people laughed, I wasn't unpopular. I kind of made my rounds at lunch and breaks and I never really belonged to any group. So it wasn't that odd that I'd talk to GiGi. I was curious about her, was she smart? Was she lonely? What was her life like? Eventually I got tired of my imagined GiGi life and I went up to her at lunch and said "Hi'. She seemed startled that anyone actually spoke to her and she accepted my invitation to sit down at a table, instead of leaning against the wall, looking totally bored and nodding her head to the piped in pop music in the lunchroom, like she usually did. I found out that day, that GiGi WAS smart. She was funny and sweet and lonely. She even admitted she wasn't that cool and standing against a wall feigning disinterest everyday was hard work. We found out we both liked Jefferson Airplane, both of us liked the color orange, the school's tater tots and fish sticks was our favorite lunch, we were both in love with David Cassidy and we both hated gym. We had enough common ground to start a friendship and enough uncommon ground to sink a battleship. And it didn't matter. And I wasn't scared of whatever her father did, it was none of my business and my own father was a murderer (only no one there knew that) so what did I care? Fathers had nothing to do with what GiGi and I were. I had finally found my first real friend.