|
Mary's daughter Teresa was more than a handful. She
was trouble personified. My guess was poor genetics, but Mary was sure the
problems were man made and therefore solvable with kindness.
Teresa's only interest seemed to be her friends. Each
of these kids was a misfit of one sort or another. When the group got together,
the hell they could raise was way out of proportion to their numbers.
The girl's grades had never been good, but now they
dropped dramatically. When she said she needed friends to study with they were
allowed. Heck, Mary allowed anything Teresa said she needed. For her trouble
Mary only got a harder time from her daughter.
As you may have guessed I was dating Mary at the time.
I tried to give advice. The response was that I didn't have a daughter of my own
and couldn't know what I was talking about. Maybe not. I never had a horse,
either, but I can tell when one is getting ready to bite me.
We tried to time our dates to be in the same places as
the girl went. We were accused of spying and worse, but it was effective while
it lasted. Then came summer vacation. Teresa was allowed to stay at friends'
houses when it was not a school night. There are no school nights in the summer,
so the girl was gone a lot. This was no cause for apprehension as it was a
normal summertime routine. The trouble was that she was getting older.
Stories drifted back that summer, stories that were
met with disbelieving ears. Heck, she was only thirteen. She didn't have the
money to get where she had been supposedly seen, let alone the means. At least
that's what we thought.
With the fall came more changes. Her recent freedom
had become a habit with the girl. There was no way she would go back to a
routine of evenings at home with TV and homework. In an effort to ease tensions,
Mary encouraged her to invite her friends over. Slowly at first they started to
come. Soon they considered the place a second home.
The kids partook of the proffered snacks and
hospitality. In return they threw beer cans in the yard, emptied the litter from
their cars into the driveway, and came in stoned. Teresa started to look worse,
coming home late with eyes that were dead and the reel of a sailor. Her mother
tried to reason with her; to ask why she did these things and jeopardized her
future. Teresa answered by staying out nights. Long nights when her mother
worried and called all the other parents and sometimes went out looking out of
desperation.
When reason failed Mary took on a harder line. This
was met with equal resistance. I was out of town the night things came to a
head.
Teresa had a couple of friends over after school, and
so slowly that it was hardly noticed there were soon a dozen kids up in her
room. When the unmistakable smell of weed started wafting down the stairs Mary
had taken enough. Up the stairs she marched, telling the lot that the party was
over and they had to clear out. One boy named Doug took particular offense at
this. He lunged with a knife and Mary tripped backward to the floor.
Doug loomed over her with the knife held high, and
then came Teresa's scream, "NO!" The girl jumped between them and took
the knife cut meant for her mother. So, there was a thread of goodness still
left in her.
Teresa lived. The knife had been sharp and left a
clean stab that touched no vital organs.
I'd like to say that the girl came to her senses after
this and everyone lived happily ever after, but such was not the case. Her
friends not longer came around and she was forever agitated with boredom. Three
days after her sixteenth birthday she simply turned to her mother and said,
"I've got to go to LA."
"I know."
I can only hope she makes her mark on the silver
screen.
©2002 StoriesByEmail.com
|
