My mom turned and glowered at me. I could almost feel how much she hatedme.
“Baby, if you don’t get your ass in the front seat right now, I’m going to go get your brother to beat your ass. Would you like that? Hmm? Do you want to go see your father with a sore, chapped ass?” she condescendinglyhissed.
When I didn’t move, she started again, “How about I tell him to go ahead and send his little video of you and him this morning to your advisor atUSC?”
I fucking hated her. I punched the back of the seat that was in front of me and got out of the backseat. I slumped down in the front seat and slammed the cardoor.
“Happy?” Iasked.
Her hand slapped my leg and then she started thecar.
“I knew you’d see it my way, baby. Your father loves you and is going to be so excited you’revisiting.”
“You’re blind and delusional,” Ihuffed.
She slapped me across theface.
“Don’t you dare say that, Ryan! I am notdelusional!”
I touched the warm spot on my cheek. I could feel myself shaking, and I was sure it was the shit this morning with Chad combined with my mom’s crap that made me feel bold with mymouth.
“Then I guess you’ve just forgotten every fucking twisted thing he’s done to me since I was a child. All the fucking warped things he’s done to show his sick love. It’s a shame you’re soforgetful.”
I wouldn’t say that “stunned” would have been the right word to describe the expression on her face. It felt good, even if it was shortlived.
“I hope you sit there on our long drive and you think about your video. USC would be ashamed of you. You should be ashamed of yourself,too.”
The closer we got to Merced, the sicker I felt. She was up to her usual self, and when she announced that we needed to stop for gas, I was looking forward to getting out of the car. When she pulled up to the gas pump, I announced that I needed to use thebathroom.
“Don’t forget to zip up,baby.”
I didn’t look down but made sure my shirt covered me when I stood. I ignored her cackling laugh as I went into the convenience store. I went to the counter to get a key for the bathroom, and once I was behind the door of the filthy bathroom, I raised my layered shirts to see the damage. Bright red fingernail marks lined my stomach from where she scratched me on ourdrive.
“Fucking bitch,” I said under mybreath.
I grabbed the last few squares of toilet paper on the roll and got them wet. There was some blood drawn, and I wanted to try to clean it as best as I could. I pushed the soap dispenser, and a burst of pink granulated, powdered soap hit my hands. I couldn’t do anything with this. It wasn’t even real soap. It was my only option, and I had to try. I pumped out five or six handfuls and tried working it into a lather. My toilet paper had nearly diminished while trying to get the soap into alather.
“Fuck!” I whined and hurled the tiny pieces of soaked toilet paper against the tiled wall. I watched the wet mass slowly slide down the wall until it got stuck halfwaydown.
I quickly pissed and tried to calm down. I was so irate. I washed my hands with the shitty soap and dried them on my flannel shirt. I slid the key on the counter and headed toward our car. Two more fucking hours of her shit. I got in and slammed thedoor.
“Everything okay,baby?”
“It’s fine. Let’s justgo.”
“Baby, your shirt is all wet.” She reached over and ran her hand along the hem of my shirt. I shoved her hand away and put my seatbelt on. “What’s wrong, baby? Did you have an accident?” She tried to reach for me to feel mypants.
“Jesus! Can we go? I didn’t have an accident! There was nothing to dry my hands on!Fuck!”
We pulled back onto the highway without another word. The silence that I welcomed only lasted a few hundred feet, ifthat.
“Just because you’re a big college man now doesn’t mean that you can use any language you want. You will watch your mouth, youngman.”
The string of obscenities that were on the tip of my tongue would have to wait. It just wasn’t worthit.
I stared at the passing fields. Some looked active while others looked like they were starved for water or new crops to be planted. For miles and miles, this was my scenery. With each passing mile, my anxiety continued tobuild.
Really, how fucked up was this? My father was busted for child abuse in all possible forms, and my mom was taking me to visit him. That was beyond fucked up. But here I was, wasting a Saturday to visit theasshole.
