This Might Seem Strange to You

But it was once my normal

Dorothy entered my room, and said, “I want to meet the guys in town.”

“Don’t you think you’re too old for them?” I asked.

“You’re mean,” she said, and wilted before my eyes. We stayed silent for a moment, then she pulled herself up straighter, held her head high, and said, “No, I’m not too old.”

Setting my pencil down, I looked at her, this time thinking before I spoke. “You’re twenty-nine,” I emphasized. “They’re my age. Sixteen.”

“So?” she said, a bit more defiant than I’d ever seen her.

And I thought of all the help she’d been telling me about the letters from Will my mother had hidden. The adult magazines, vodka, and cigarettes she buys for me. Yes, I owed her big time.

“Okay, okay.” I held up my hands. “I’ll figure something out.”

“You better,” she said. “I help you all the time.”

“I know, I know,” I said. “You don’t need to remind me. I know all you do for me.”

But she continued, “I buy you dirty magazines. Buy you booze.”

“Oh my God!” I said. “Just stop. “I will think of something. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said like, she’d finally heard and understood. She left my room. Left me to figure out how to get around my mother. How to get her to town.

Dorothy would not stand up to my mother, not fight for her freedom. Still, asking me to help her didn’t seem fair. I was only sixteen. Fighting for her freedom along with mine seemed like an enormous responsibility. One I wasn’t sure I was ready for.

But I thought. And I thought. Until I figured out a plan.

Days later, I went to Dorothy, excited. “Bicycles,” I said. “I’m telling Mom we need to take long bike rides for gym class.”

“What?” Dorothy looked confused.

“Listen,” I said, “hear the plan. Yes, Mom won’t like the idea, but she won’t check with the school to find out if it’s true.”

“Where do I come in?”

“Mom won’t want Kathleen and I going off on our own, so…” I paused and smiled, raising my finger for her to pay close attention. “This is where you come in.”

Her face brightened.

“I’m going to suggest you supervise us. Keep us out of trouble.”

Her face lit up. “You think your mother will fall for it?”

“I’m counting on it.”

“But I don’t have a bicycle.”

“I’ve thought of that,” I said. “There’s a bike in the barn. It can be yours.”

Dorothy grinned and hugged me. “Thank you!” she said. “Thank you! I’m so excited!”

Next, I shared the plan with my fourteen-year-old sister, Kathleen, and together we entered the kitchen while Mom was baking bread. Kathleen stood beside me, as we’d earlier agreed. I did all the talking. Kathleen would only speak if necessary.

After explaining we needed to go on long bike rides to improve our grades for gym class, the first words out of her mouth were as I’d expected, “Do you two think I’m crazy? Letting you go off on your own.”

“But we need this for school. For our grades.”

“I’m not that stupid, Barbara Ann,” she said, angry. “So, don’t stand there and treat me like I am.”

“Well,” I said. “Do you want us to fail?

“No,” she said. “Of course not.”

“We won’t do anything wrong. I promise.”

She stared back at me like she didn’t believe me.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” I said, trying not to get too frustrated and lose my temper. “Why don’t you trust us?”

She huffed and didn’t answer. Her hands were in the bread pan, no longer kneading the dough.

“Look,” I said, “if you don’t trust or believe us, have someone keep an eye on us.”

“Who’s gonna do that?” she snapped.

I pointed to Dorothy in the pantry. “What about Dorothy,” I said. “You trust her. She never does anything wrong. Make her go with us. Make her a chaperone.”

“Well…” she hesitated. “Can Dorothy even ride a bike?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “But if she can’t, she can always learn.

“Such craziness, Barbara Ann! You just never stop with it. It’s always something with you. You’re never satisfied.”

“It’s for school,” I said, losing patience, hating how she always made it about there being something wrong with me. “Oh my God! What does it take to get through to you?”

At that moment, Dad entered the kitchen, and asked, “What’s all this racket about?”

After my mother and I explained the situation, Dad said, “Well, let’s settle this. Send Dorothy along with them. If something goes wrong, well, that’s the end of them going anywhere.”

“Dorothy needs a bike,” I piped up.

“And to learn to ride it,” Dorothy said. “I never…”

“Goddamn foolishness. Such craziness,” Mom spat. “She’ll go only when her work is done.” She turned to glare at Dorothy. “And you better damn well make sure those girls stay out of trouble.”

While my parents told Dorothy what they expected of her. I knew she had to be bursting inside with excitement that our plan was working.

I told my father there was an old bike in the barn. Big enough for Dorothy. “It just needs some fixing,” I said.

“Okay.” He nodded. “I’ll take care of it. Now, can we can have some peace around here?”

“Sure,” I said, and smiled.

Dad oiled the chain on the bike and pumped air into the tires. We found leftover paint in the barn, and Dorothy painted over the rusted spots.

Whenever Dorothy finished her long list of scrubbing floors, washing dishes, making beds, and anything else Mom wanted to be done, she’d rush outside in the backyard and practice how to stay balanced on her bike.

I couldn’t help but laugh at her first attempts. It was funny seeing an adult learn what was usually learned as a child.

On Sunday afternoon, Dorothy, Kathleen, and I mounted our bikes and prepared for our road trip.

Down the driveway we went, over our graveled road, onto the paved road and up the hill and out of sight.

We peddled for hours, making notes of where we went and how long it took us.

Our first ventures out we're all about getting our story straight. Our lies believable.

Once our stories were well-developed and trust established with my parents, we put our actual plan into action.

On a sunny afternoon, we peddled fast on the road that followed along the shore to the town of Mahone Bay. There, we leaned our bikes against the side of the bridge and stood gazing over the edge into the flowing river below, watching the water swirl around the rocks. Playing it cool until the guys noticed us.

“Hey!” John called out. “Wanna go to the park?” Which really meant, do you want to blow me?

“Maybe,” I yelled back, pretending not to be too interested.

Dorothy whacked my arm. “What do you mean, maybe?” she asked. “Isn’t that the point of this?”

“Shut up,” I said, smiling, while talking like a ventriloquist. “We don’t want to seem too obvious.”

“Is that John?” she asked, pointing, not playing it cool, staring right over at him.

“Yes,” I said, pushing her arm down. “Be quiet.”

“Who’s that with you?” Dan yelled over, being the smart ass he usually was. “That your mama?”

The rest of the guys laughed. Fuck you, Dan. I wanted to yell back, but instead played along. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yeah!” he said. “I would.” He motioned, “Come on over.”

We looked both ways before walking our bikes across the street. Then followed the guys up the street towards the park.

While we walked, Dorothy didn’t stop talking. She whispered, “This is so great… I’m so excited… I can’t believe I’m actually here… I’m meeting them all… oh, thank you… I’m…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I said. “You’re really excited, but how about calming down?” I wanted to say, act your age, but thought I’d hurt her feelings. She was like an impatient child headed to the candy store with a pocket full of money.

“They’re all so cute,” she said.

“I’m sure you’ll get with one of them,” I whispered back, making sure she understood the terms and agreements. “Just remember, stay away from John.”

“Yeah,” Kathleen turned and said, “And Lenny.”

“Okay, okay,” Dorothy said, a little too loudly, “No John. No Lenny.” The guys looked at her. She lowered her voice, but still talked too loudly. “But the others are fair game.”

Back in the park, we settled in, under the trees. I made sure to stick next to John. When he leaned closer and asked, “How old is she?”

I leaned in, moved his long hair away from his ear, inhaled the sweet smell of him, and whispered, “Twenty-nine.”

“What the fuck!” he pulled away, looking back at me with, eyes wide. “Really?”

“Yeah,” I grinned. “Would I lie to you?”

“Holy fuck!” he said loud enough to draw everyone’s attention.

“What’s up?” Lenny asked.

“You won’t fucking believe it, man, even if I tell you,” John said.

I avoided Dorothy’s gaze, but said, “Your age.” I paused. “I just told him.”

The rest of the guys looked from her to me. Dorothy’s cheeks reddened, but she raised her chin high and said, “I don’t care. Tell them if you want. I’m not ashamed of my age.”

“Is she your mother?” Dan blurted.

“NO!” I snapped. “Don’t be stupid. Does she look old enough?” I asked. “And really, would my mother come to town with us?”

All the guys but Dan laughed. He made a face at me.

I nodded to Dorothy. “Tell them,” I said.

“You tell them,” she said.

“She’s twenty-nine.” I waved my hands in the air. “There. Everyone happy now?”

The shock spread like a tsunami. Over ten years, a lifetime of separation. Soon to turn the unimaginable age of thirty.

“Big Mama,” Dan shouted out, and everyone started talking at once, making some of what was said unclear, but her new name was repeated throughout the crowd. It seemed so witty, so appropriate, the perfect label to stick on her. From then on, the guys only called her Big Mama.

Dorothy was surprisingly okay with the teasing.

They asked lots of questions. Questions to explain our family situation. No, she’s not our older sister. Yes, she lives with us. No, she isn’t related. Yes, as unbelievable as it seems, my parents do not allow her out to town, just like they don’t allow me and Kathleen.

The one question they probably should have asked: What the hell is wrong with your family?

I kept close to John, making sure both he and Dorothy understood they could not get together. Kathleen did the same with Lenny.

It didn’t take Dan long before making a move on Dorothy, putting his arm around her and working his charm. Dorothy didn’t shy away from him and didn’t insult him in the ways I did. She willingly opened her arms to him and before long, they were kissing and strolling off into the woods.

Lenny and Kathleen headed off in another direction.

I nudged John and motioned toward a nearby path. And off we went.

Later that day we arrived home on our bikes as if it had been just another day out exercising, and improving our grades for school.

I’d succeeded at getting Dorothy out of the house. Getting her that taste of freedom she so desired.

We had no bigger plan other than to keep biking to town to meet up with the guys in the park. Somehow we thought everything would continue to be okay.

But as you know, the best of plans often fall apart.

Stay tuned for next week’s installment.

BARBARA CARTER is a visual artist and writer with a focus on healing from childhood trauma, alcohol addiction, and living her best authentic life.