"I'm telling you Mike, trust me. You're wasting your time me. She won't let me in...
I tried already I told you!"
She stands dauntless and defiant peering over her to the right.
I always loved that statue.
- I smile big and stupid. I like him because he likes those parts of me I have to hide.-
"I don't know if I can. I told my mom Id be back. Sorry Mary."
- His Mom was a really great one, I had always liked her. She was the kind of mom that let you be exactly who you were, but still showed love and concern. I had never seen the like until I met him her. She was always trying to help me, as if she knew there was a big problem, some kinda trouble- and that it wasn't my fault.
I didn't know then.
She once bought me a Marilyn Manson tee that I wanted as a reward for not doing drugs or hitching rides. She said "If you don't do that, any of that shit, for two weeks, i'll buy you any T- Shirt you want, Cool?"
Her name was Mary too.
My Mom found my Manson shirt where I had stashed it on the front porch a month or so later. It was one of those ignore the banging on the door nights.
My mother had thrown away.
Perhaps she poured gasoline all over it and lit a match.
Perhaps she bit down and shredded it to ribbons.
Fuck it. -
I sat there for only a small while, then became restless.
I walked back towards Sheridan Street and hitched a ride.
Back to the Hansel and Gretel Motel by the pier on Deerfield Beach I liked to sleep underneath.
It didn't take long for a man to pull over. It never did, I was fifteen.