Standing Back | Teen Ink

Standing Back

May 31, 2019
By molly_manning, East Kingston, New Hampshire
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molly_manning, East Kingston, New Hampshire
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There's this lake

I used to go to when I was young.

My mom and dad would let me swim

Until I had a crimson sun burn.

The lake was lined with abandoned houses,

and moss-colored ancient pine trees

The water was always murky gray.

I could not see my hand

A few inches beneath the water.

The bottom was a slimy brown toad

Sometimes when I swam deep enough

I felt as if it would swallow me whole

Into its

dark

bottomless

abyss.

I guess the scariest thing

about

That lake

Was that I never knew what was swimming beneath me.

 

I would tell my brother stories

While we walked home from school.

The pictures I painted in his mind

seemed to reside there permanently.


To an outsider,

We looked just like kids walking home from school.

But really we were stranded

on an open aquamarine ocean surrounded by killer whales.

Or deep in the yellow green of a rainforest.

Or looking into a frothing fiery orange volcano

Sometimes we were on the peak of a mountain

Observing the dull gray world below.


I’m not good at telling stories

But he took my words like pills.

They covered up the pain,

They sheltered him from the storm.

 

 

World Variation

Mom would walk in

Fall into a chair

Smoke marlboro cigarettes

Drink beer

And watch TV.

Her eyes looked worn

Her thin lips permanently pursed from smoking.

She said she was just tired

She had to take another shift

but she loved me, she said.

Our apartment was home for the first years of my life.

It smelled of moth balls,

Paint peeled from the walls revealing chipped drywall.

The windows were cracked.

There was an infestation of ladybugs.

It was one of those places that neighborhood kids pretend is haunted.

Yet my room was a

sanctuary from the rest of the world.

 


Who am I?

I am the whole daughter

of a broken women.

We share the same sky-blue eyes

but hers have clouds.  

I take care of my younger brother

like he was my son.

I haven’t seen my father

since I was five years old.

But we share an allegiance to the canvas.

Sometimes I draw so much

that when I close my eyes

I see flashing triangles of neon color.

 

 

 

 

 

What was dad like?

Kevin constantly asked.

I never knew exactly how to answer.

My memories of him have faded

like the photo I’ve kept.

I tried to explain as best as I could.

The wild curly blonde hair we had was from him.

The crazy creative instinct we had was from him.

He would tower over everyone else in Chicago.

Over time he acquired a bushy beard that he would twirl around his finger.

On a rare and lucky occasion he would draw with me.

He was artistic

Funny,

Smart,

And a little crazy.

But I loved him

He was the kind of father

That was proud of you but never said so.

He was the kind of father

He never came to my softball games

But I knew he loved me more than anything else

in the entire world.

I guess we must have been pretty bad kids

to make dad to leave us.


No, I don't think it was our fault Kevin.


Why else would he leave us?


….


Brooke?


I don't know. I don't remember, it's been so long.


You know what?


What?


It’s been so long since we had a dad. I’m kinda used to it.


I don’t think it's something you can get used to.

 

Maybe he was part of the FBI

and he had to leave on a top secret mission.


I don't think so.


He must have got infected by a foreign disease, and had to leave, so to not get us infected.


I doubt it.


Maybe….


Kevin, we have been giving dad excuses for the last nine years. Can you just be realistic for once?! He left us because he was a terrible father, and I don't know exactly what made him leave, but things in life don’t always have an answer. People are just selfish; they take what they can, and bolt. Just face it, no amount of talking about it will bring him back.

 

 


I stole some paint

From my art class to paint a wall in my bedroom.

The bedroom that I had to share with my little brother.

I don't like to sketch

Or plan

before I paint.

I could feel excitement running through my veins.

My imaginations

were smeared across the wall.

I did not eat

Or breathe

Or look away until

The colors were so vibrant

That when I looked away everything else looked dull.

 

 

 

 

Standing back

I felt satisfied.

My urge to paint

Everything to ever exist

Subsided.

I washed my hands at the kitchen sink

And threw away my pallettes.

When

Something purple crossed my vision.

In the trash was a crumpled purple letter.

I don't know why

I decided to pick up this letter.

I mean

I don't usually take things from the trash.

The letter was smeared with paint.

It had already been opened.

I took out a small white paper.

 

 


Dear Lorraine,

Either you moved, changed numbers, and email or you are just ignoring me (which I would understand why). I don't know where to start writing this letter. I guess what I want to say is I miss you. I don't know why we left things the way we did. These past 9 years have been hell. I did the math the other day and realized that Brooke is 14? I have a teenage daughter that I haven't seen since she was still in kindergarten. I know I have messed up, but I want to help now. I have started a business in Geneva, and I’m trying to figure things out. I just don't know if I can do that without you, and the kids. Just write me back. Or email… or give me some kind of contact.


Love,


Steve

 

 

 

 

Shock

Can hit you

Like a tidal wave.

The truth

just

keeps

flooding

In.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I thought it wouldn't matter to you


How could you think that? I haven't seen my father in like…… a decade. I barely even remember him.


Well I can’t just ship off you and your brother halfway across the world to see a man who left us nine years ago


Why not? It's not like life's been great here. I want a change. This summer I want to get out of this  apartment, and this stupid city. Most of the time you’re not even home. I want to meet my dad.


I have worked hard to support you guys. You’re lucky you even have an apartment to even live in.


I'm sorry… I didn't mean it like that.


I know what you meant. If you can to find the money to fly to Switzerland this summer be my guest. Clearly you don't want to stay here.

 


Goodbyes.


I spent every school day with my teachers.

They taught me how to write words on this page.

They told me the mitochondria is the power house of the cell.

They told me about the Gettysburg Address.

I have used their wisdom as a guide book

throughout my life.

I depended upon them to lead me blindly.

Until the school year ended.

And then I never saw them again.


You were my family.

You were there to see me lose my first tooth.

And to save me from choking on a grape.

I invested my trust in you.

I survived because of you.

But then you said goodbye.


When we forget the important moments,

we are all so good at saying goodbye.


How can you be so forgiving?


Was what Kevin asked me.

When we talked about visiting Dad.

I don't know, I would reply.

The thought of him

used to enrage me.

But my anger seemed to subside to a muffled scream

that faded as time passed.

A battle empathy fought against frustration.

Hatred was replaced with curiousity.

Maybe,

Possibly,

it wasn't just my father that motivated me to leave Chicago.

Maybe I wanted to leave because I had

never even been out of the state.

 

 

 

Brooke,


It was so wonderful to get a letter in the mail from you! I miss you kids more than anything. I’ve made some mistakes (big ones), but trust me I have changed. I want to be there for you, kevin, and your mom. I have a lot to say and thousands of questions to ask you, but let's save that for this summer. The plane tickets enclosed in this letter are for you and your brother to fly to Geneva this summer. Please try to convince your mother to come along. Let her know that the financial side of things can be taken care of.


I cannot wait!


Love,

Dad

 

 

 

 

I hate planes.

So,

I fell into a deep sleep.

My mind dissolved

As I was transported

Into distant

Memories.

In silent black water

I could not move.

My head slipped under

Pulling me deeper.

I struggled to free myself

I couldn't seem to get my head back above

The black mass strangling me

I really couldn’t see where I was going

But I knew I needed to leave

Where I Was.

 

 


I made a list

Of potential first things to say


I have missed you

I love you so much

Thank you for letting us visit.

You’re my dad no matter what

This is Kevin, remember him?

How could you leave us?

What took you so long to contact us?

Do you understand how hard you have made my life?

Could you please explain?

Do you even love me?

 

 

 

 


I knew it was him

Because

He ran

Down the terminal

Towards us.

I thought we were going to say hello

But he just hugged us.

I could feel the cold tears

From his face.

My anger slipped away.

My heart slowed to a rhythmic tempo.

Laughing and crying

I heard him say something

That I couldn't make out.



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