11 February 1994 – The Imposter

THE IMPOSTER

When the school bus stopped at the corner by the broken wooden fence, Billie carefully slung her backpack over her shoulder and walked off the bus.  She crossed the street, and stared with curiosity at the house she was approaching.  She noted the cluttered cement garage with the doors that wouldn’t go down, and the basketball hoop with just a few strings hanging from it.  She saw bikes strewn about the front yard, and obviously no one had raked in a while.  These people are slobs, she thought.

She opened the front door and paused, to let her eyes adjust to the dark interior.  She followed a small hallway to the living room; there she stared with disbelief.  She had been briefed, of course, but this . . . .  There was stuff everywhere.  The mismatched couches and chairs were buried under blankets, pillows, clothes, you name it.  The coffee table had piles of dirty dishes on it, as well as rubber bands, safety pins, and anything else that was small and insignificant.  The ill-fitting pieces of carpet on the floor showed a worn path that ran from the doorway and around the coffee table, to settle at the foot of the couch.  The television was surrounded with a moat of video tapes, and the bookcase was cluttered with the cheapest garage sale knick-knacks Billie had ever seen.  This was going to be a tough assignment, she thought.

Billie fortunately knew the way; she quickly headed for the stairs to her left.  Next to the stairs was a sort of dining area where a plain stocky woman in her 40s sat at a table, looking anxiously through her sweepstakes stamps for the one that said she was a Priority Customer.  She wore a sleeveless cotton blouse that accentuated the liver spots on her pasty white arms.  Great, she must be Billie’s mother, Billie thought, as she started up the stairs.

The woman at the table was feeling pretty good; she had spent a quiet afternoon writing two long letters to her sisters in Michigan.  Quiet afternoons had been rare since her husband died and she had to go to work.  She looked up and called out to Billie in a high-pitched childlike voice.

“Hi, Billie Jo!  How was school today?”

Billie tensed.  This was the tough part, trying to act like the real Billie.  How would a 13-year-old respond to her mother after a long day at school?

“Fine,” Billie said, and continued up the stairs.

At the top Billie opened a door on the left.  She had to push to get the door open wide enough to squeeze through, and even then she had to step up onto a pile of clothes to get in.  She closed the door behind her and leaned back against it, surveying her bedroom.  All the furniture was against the walls, leaving an open area in the middle which was filled with clothes and books, mostly clothes.  She sighed.  Billie was obviously no better than the rest, she thought.  She decided if she was going to be staying here for a few days, she might as well clean it now.

For the next hour or so, Billie sorted through the clothes on the floor, throwing all the things that smelled bad in the hamper and putting the rest in a pile on her bed.  Then she folded the clothes on the bed and put them away in her dresser.  By the time she was done she had forgotten she was an imposter, so she went downstairs - as the real Billie - for an after-school snack.

Her mother was no longer in the dining area, but she could hear her in Bobby’s room at the bottom of the stairs, yelling at the top of her lungs.

“Look at this slop!  What the hell is wrong with you, Bobby? You’re so damn lazy and irresponsible, it makes me want to puke!  You’re the man of the house, now, for Christ sake!  Why can’t you act like it?”

Billie thought he was lazy and irresponsible, too, but she still felt sorry for him.  After all, he was only ten, and her mother’s arms were strong from scrubbing old ladies’ houses all day.  Billie sneaked past Bobby’s door, picturing her mother’s red face with its twisted mouth and piercing beady eyes.  His door was slightly open and Billie could see the shadow of her mother’s shaking body on his wall, leaning forward for an attack, but for some reason holding back.  Billie knew her mother probably wouldn’t last long, so she went past the dining area, through the kitchen, and out the back door.

Billie felt a surge of energy fill her limbs.  She began to jog around the house and garage, but soon sped up until she was moving her legs as fast as they would go.  She felt like she was a car, or a motorcycle, with the wind flying past her and her feet barely touching the ground.  She wanted to keep going, down the road to the highway, to race those big trucks that always scare her when they rumble by.  Finally she slowed, then stopped, gasping for air.  Her legs were exhausted, but the energy was still there.

Billie spent the rest of the afternoon in the backyard.  She was with an exiled prince who said he loved her and wished she could come with him.  He was always on the move from spies and people who wanted to kidnap him for ransom.  They held hands as they walked through the yard and sat beneath the willow tree, talking about all the exciting things he’d seen and done.  As the sun began to fade, he said he had to go, but he promised he would be back.  He slowly leaned toward her.  Billie closed her eyes and leaned forward, her lips stretching out toward him . . .

“Billie and a gho-ost, sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

Billie jumped up, her face red.  Bobby ran away, laughing and singing the Wedding March.  Fury replaced embarrassment, and Billie chased after him.  She felt her feet pounding on the hard earth, and her arms ached to pound like that, too.  She caught up with him near the garage and pushed him with all her momentum.  He fell hard and began to cry, burying his face in the dirt.  Billie stood over him, staring at his small body shaking; she wanted to comfort him, but didn’t know how.  She felt guilty, but she didn’t know what to do with guilt.  So she yelled at him.

“You asked for it!  Stop crying, you big baby, and get up.  We have to go in and eat now, anyway.”  Billie felt uncomfortable just standing there, so finally she turned and started walking toward the house.  She felt big and mean, and confused because she didn’t like feeling that way.  She wondered if maybe her mother didn’t like being big and mean, either; maybe . . .

“You’re in big trouble, now, Billie!  I’m going to tell Mom!”

Before Billie could respond Bobby ran past her, with his jaw clenched and his fists pumping their way through the heavy air.  Billie told herself she didn’t care; her mom would probably yell at him for bothering her.

When she walked in the house her mother was standing by the door waiting; Bobby stood back in the shadows looking worried.

“What do I have to do to get you to act your age, Billie?  Goddam 13-year-old, and still getting in fights!  You’re too big to be hitting a little boy half your size!  Get over here!  Stop standing there sniveling like a little baby!”

Billie felt the usual defiance swell in her chest.  Only this time a little worked its way up before the fear could squeeze it into a tiny ball.

“Why should I?  You’re just going to hit me anyway.”

She looked at her mother’s face and the fear took over.  Her mother lunged toward her, but Billie ran past and up the stairs.  With every step she thought Go back! Go back! You’re just making it worse!  She could hear her mother yelling right behind her, but she shut out the words.  She ran into her bedroom and slammed the door.  She locked the door and leaned against it with her whole body.  Her mother was right outside.

Her mother couldn’t stop the energy that was consuming her.  She felt like she was losing control of her children and herself.  All she could think was she had to show them who’s in charge; she couldn’t let them see her weaknesses at any cost.

“You goddam lazy bastard!  Get the hell out here right now!  You open this door or I’ll beat it down!  How dare you run away from me!”

Billie thought desperately.  She thought of those TV shows where the kid would say I love you or something, and the parents would melt and cry, and everything would be okay.

“Mom, just listen!  I’m sorry!  I love you.  Please!”  Billie began to cry as she realized she meant it.

“I love you, Mom!”

But her mother just kept pounding on the door, unable to hear her daughter’s words over her own.

“I’ll beat the hell out of you when I get a hold of you!  God damn shittin’ lazy bastard!”

Suddenly Billie straightened.  The tears looked out-of-place on her cheeks.  “Billie” had retreated and her imposter took over.  Well, this is what I came for, she thought.  She squared her shoulders and slowly unlocked the door.

16 August 1991

Dear Keiko,

Hi!  It was really great hearing from you.  I’m sorry your teaching exam didn’t go so well, but I know you will do better next time.

So far, my summer is a lot like yours.  I am working at the university, and in my spare time I like to read a lot and watch T.V., too.  My apartment is really nice, and I have decided to stay here for the school year as well.

I’m glad your English class worked out okay.  I really admire you for being able to teach high school students.  I don’t know about in Japan, but in the U.S. high school students don’t really appreciate their classes or their teachers.

I am going to be a teacher, too!  From September until Christmas I’m going to be teaching a Sunday School class for 2- and 3-yr-olds.  I will teach them for an hour after church every week about Jesus and what he teaches us in the Bible.  I’m really excited about it.

Our summer so far has been rather cool, mostly around 80^oF.  Usually around this time it’s up in the 100′s^oF.  But I’m glad my apartment has an air conditioner.

When Debbie returned from Mexico in June, she brought her Mexican roommate Maria with her.  Maria stayed for a month and just went home a couple of weeks ago.  She was very nice and fun to be with.  She spoke very good English. My mom wanted to try for a contest in a newspaper, so she wrote a story about Maria visiting the U.S.  My mom won the contest, and her story, along with Maria’s picture, was printed in the newspaper!  Maria may return to visit us again later in the year.

Again, thank you for writing to me and I hope your visit at your grandparents’ home is a lot of fun.  Say hello to your family from me, even though I never met them.  ‘Bye!

Love,

Jolie

Sunday, 19 May 1991

Dear Todd,

First off, I’m so SORRY I didn’t write to you sooner, like when you got back.  I was suffering from a severe case of freshman stress when I got your letter, and am just now recovering.  Unfortunately, I misplaced your card (by the way, thanks!) and just found it a minute ago.

So how was your return?  I’m sure the initial thrill has worn off by now, but I’d still love to hear about it.  Did you return with a whole group of buddies, and was there a lot of people there to meet you?  I don’t think you ever mentioned if you have any family, but I hope some were there to welcome you back.

Don’t worry about my freshman stress, it wasn’t anything life-threatening.  What happened was, after years of sailing through high school with little work required of me, I got to college and found out THEY EXPECTED ME TO STUDY!  Really, I’m not as lazy as that sounds (not quite, but almost), but at the same time I was trying to keep up my classes & work, I was taking care of all of my older sister’s business while she’s studying in Mexico for the semester.  That includes taxes, financial aid forms, and finding her a summer job.

So, what do you do all day?  I have no idea what’s required of a sargeant in the Air Force, but I get the idea it’s really tough work.  You do get time off every once in a while for fun in the sun, don’t you?  It doesn’t take much sun to coax me outside; fortunately for my grades, Springfield isn’t famous for its warm weather.

I just realized, I barely know anything about you!  Don’t worry, I’m not going to pry into your deepest darkest secrets, but my point is that you probably don’t know much about me, either (except that I know how to play UNO)!  So hear goes:

Hi, my name is Jolie.  I’m nineteen & a freshman at university.  I have 4 sisters & 4 (obnoxious) brothers.  Other family members include my mother, my brother-in-law Bob, my 2 adorable nieces (Sarah & Delilah – as in from the Bible), and Nurse, the oldest grayest cat alive.  Luckily, I don’t live at home with this crew or else I’d flunk out of college for sure!  I live in the dorms right now & will be staying in an apartment for the summer, but I make sure I visit home often (just so they don’t forget who the missing kid is).  Other than that, there isn’t much to say.  I like old poetry books, walks in the woods, chocolate, making flat birthday cakes for my friends, and – on occasion – being completely alone in silent deserted areas.  I dislike heavy metal, cigarette smoke, too-mature children, and when people ask you “How are you?” and then start talking about something else.

That covers me.  If you ever feel like writing your life story, you know where to write.  And next time, I’ll try to write back right away.  Until then, so long and God bless you!

Love,

Jolie

P.S.  The booklet I enclosed is one I really appreciated reading, and I thought you might like it, too.  Let me know what you think.

P.P.S.  Do you think I use too many commas?

19 April 1991

Friends Out Of Necessity

When I was eight years old my family and I moved to a small town where the kids didn’t take kindly to strangers. On my first day of third grade Kimmy, a short blond-haired girl with an infallible attitude, took votes during recess to see if she should let me on the merry-go-round.  She made sure everyone said no.

There was one kid in my class who was always in the background by herself, a pale red-headed girl named Bobbie Jo.  I knew who she was, but because the other kids ignored her I thought it might help if I ignored her too.  Besides, her skin was all freckled and clammy-looking, and everything she did was done jerkily, as though she was nervous or unsure of herself.  So she sat reading in her corner of the playground, and I sat drawing in the sand in mine.

After a while our teacher noticed we were always alone and called both our mothers in for a conference.  I remember waiting anxiously in the playground behind the school, sitting gloomily on the swings and kicking the dirt up into dust clouds.  When my mother finally came out I ran up beside her and we walked the few blocks home in silence.  When we got home she brought me into her bedroom where we could be alone and gravely turned to me.

“Jolie, I know things have been rough for you since we got here, but Bobbie Jo has been going through the same thing for a much longer time.  Now, her mom and I have discussed this with your teacher, and we all agree that it would be best if you and Bobbie Jo became friends.  Starting tomorrow, I want you to spend your recess time playing with Bobbie Jo instead of going off by yourself.”

It didn’t occur to me to do anything but grimly promise I would, so the next day when the kids poured out of the old brick school building at the shrill “brrringg” of the recess bell, I slowly walked to where Bobbie Jo sat at her desk.  I didn’t know what to say or do, but when I looked in her eyes and saw the same fear and embarrassment that I was feeling, I knew that her mom had talked to her too, and that everything was going to be okay.  She stood up giggling nervously, put her right arm behind her back to firmly grasp her left elbow, and said in a weak, squeaky voice, “Wanna go play on the teeter-totter?”

Thus began one of the most memorable friendships I have ever experienced.  The school year flew by as we spent all our recesses inventing new games, drawing houses in the sand, and parading around the playground with our arms linked. Bobbie Jo, with her feminine dresses and dramatic ways, and I with my dusty jeans and realistic attitude, made an unusual pair. We were two very different people, but when we got together we always had fun.

When summer finally arrived and school let out I was invited to spend the weekend at Bobbie Jo’s house, a small cottage buried deep in the woods.  Bobbie Jo’s family was a lot like the Swiss Family Robinson, only her family had chosen to live self-dependently.  While her two younger brothers collected eggs from the chicken coop, Bobbie Jo and I climbed up the wooded hill behind her house collecting the sap that had oozed down into metal buckets attached to the trees.  Before supper we washed our hands and faces in a china basin set out on a table near the door, and after supper ate homemade ice cream for dessert.  We played Yatzee at night by the light of oil lamps and in the morning had sap syrup on our pancakes.  I came to know Bobbie Jo better that weekend than in the entire previous year.

The start of the fourth grade brought with it a boost in my popularity.  I suddenly found myself the center of Kimmy’s attention and, as I had learned the year before, what Kimmy liked everybody liked.  At first I told them I wouldn’t play with them unless Bobbie Jo played too, but Bobbie Jo, with her quiet ways, just didn’t fit in with such a rowdy bunch.

Gradually, Bobbie Jo stopped hanging around with us and went back to reading by herself.  She knew she didn’t belong, and I guess deep down I had always had doubts about the way they had treated us before too, because one day during gym class I asked Kimmy about it.  She put her arm around my shoulders as though she were comforting me and declared in her most superior voice, “We always treat everyone like that their first year here!”

I knew then that I could never be as ruthless as the other kids were, and shortly after that I stopped playing with Kimmy’s crowd and went back to Bobbie Jo.  We never talked about it, but things just weren’t the same after that.  We still played together, but the intimacy was gone.  We were practically strangers.

That summer my parents decided to move to a bigger town. One afternoon, as I was packing my things to take to our new home, the phone rang.  I ran to the living room to answer it. Bobbie Jo’s voice came through the receiver quiet and wavery.

“Hello, Jolie?  This is Bobbie Jo.  I was just playing around with the piano and I made up a song about you going away.  Do you wanna hear it?”

I really wanted to get back to packing, but something in her voice reminded me of the closeness we once shared, so I said okay.

She didn’t know how to play the piano and she couldn’t hold a note, but as her song woefully floated across town through the telephone wires, I was reminded of the weekend I stayed at her house, the weekend I got to know the real Bobbie Jo for the first time.

When she finished her song we said goodbye for the last time.  I hung up the phone with a sigh and, turning back to my packing, wondered apprehensively about the town that would be my new home, the girl who would be my new best friend.

Sunday, 31 March 1991

Easter Dinner 1991

Turkey
Ham
Potatoes
Gravy
Stuffing
Buns
Butter
Corn
Peas
Cheese
Olives
Milk
Pineapple Salad
Mom’s Tomato Jello Surprise on lettuce leaves w/mayonnaise as a topping
Pumpkin Pie
Ice cream
A cherry dessert

Saturday, 30 March 1991 (Day Before Easter)

The tradition lives on.  We had forgotten our fire-starting history too soon.  We had grown careless.

Angie & I had the whole lazy morning to ourselves.  Mom had taken Susie and Joey shopping, so the house was unusually quiet as we sat about, she lounging on one couch flipping through a magazine and I lying on another reading a book.  Angie kept getting up and walking around bored and restless.  She tuned the stereo to a popular Top 40′s station and sat near the booming speakers, rocking absent-mindedly in a rocking chair.

Suddenly she stood up and walked over to the living room window.  She looked out with a puzzled expression on her face.

5 Marzo 1991

¡Hola Deborah!

As far as the apartment is going, it looks like you & Stephanie are going to be the only ones (I know) staying there for the school year, but I’ll be joining you guys in the summer (actually, you’ll be joining me in the summer).  Mom’s taking care of your leases, & I’m taking care of mine.

As far as Quantum Leap is concerned, we (meaning me & Amy) don’t watch much TV at all, even though we each have one.  She mainly watches MTV & I mainly watch the TV-10 movies.

Tonight I volunteered to do Telefund calling (you know, calling alumni to get them to pledge money to the university).  It was really fun, even though some people got rude about it.  Afterwards they said we could call anywhere in the U.S. free so I called Trudy & Ricky for awhile, then I called Jack.  Gladys was taking a nap so I didn’t get to talk to her.  Trudy & Patti positively hate each other, according to Trudy.  Also, Trudy turned herself in for treatment, for both depression and chemical dependency.  Did you know Trudy, her friend, Ricky, & his girlfriend are all living with Gladys?  Trudy also told me Gladys’s thinking of moving and (“you can’t tell your mom”) Ricky got his girlfriend pregnant.  I guess no one outside of their family knows, yet.  And she made it clear that Mom’s not to know yet either.  Ricky doesn’t have a job yet but they’re going to keep the baby.  And both Jack & Bob quit their jobs.

On to less depressing subjects, did I tell you the Mambazo concert was great?  Don’t worry, I have a copy of their Shaka Zulu tape from Andy & a copy of some other guy’s CD of them, so you can hear it when you get back.

You’ll have to write me details about these trips you’re taking!  And just how tan are you guys getting?  If you don’t stop having so much fun, I just might break & fly down there for Spring Break!

You got my pictures by now, didn’t you?  I’ve still got the negatives, and I know you didn’t get a picture of Sarah & Delilah yet.  Everyone wants one so I have to make reprints.  And with your camera – they lost it.  Mom kept asking them for it & finally they gave her your money back.  So you can buy a new one when you get back.  And Barbara and Bob want their New Years pictures.  Barbara wasn’t pleased when she found out I let you take them to Mexico.

Susie stayed with me last Saturday night while Amy went to a friend’s house.  She was sick & I had to babysit that night so we didn’t do much.  On Sunday we walked around a lot and she took pictures of the ducks.  I nearly went broke eating all my meals at BK & treating her to ice cream later.

I just wore my contacts for 40 hours straight.  I put them in around 9 AM on Thursday, stayed up that night until 4:45 AM working on English, and fell asleep with my clothes on and contacts in.  When I woke up a few hours later I only had time to change clothes and put a drop of Saline in each eye before I had to go to class.  And tonight I ended up babysitting late for my boss.  Before I left, I quickly took them out, cleaned them, and put them back in.  I just took them out again at 1:15 AM.  They were a little sticky, but I got them off fine.

Would you like to hear the explanation of why everyone thought Stephanie got sick & left Mexico?  Here’s the story:  Andy & I were talking about the latest news from Mexico (comparing notes).  We were talking about Stephanie when he suddenly mentioned that he had heard Maggie had gotten sick and had to go home early.  (Don’t worry she had tonsilitis but she’s fine now.)  Anyway, I was so busy thinking about Stephanie that I didn’t connect that he said Maggie instead.  So we talked about it for a few minutes, not realizing that the other person was having a completely different conversation.  Later when Mom picked me up, I mentioned what Andy had told me and asked if Stephanie’s parents had mentioned anything.  She got all worried that Stephanie was so sick she’d drop out of college, so she called Stephanie’s parents to see if she should pay the $140 rent down payment the next day or not.  Stephanie’s parents in turn got all worried and called Stephanie to see what was going on.  Stephanie didn’t know anything (except that it wasn’t true) and called both Andy & LeeAnne.  Meanwhile, Mom tells me she (& possibly Stephanie’s parents) think that Andy had just started the rumor to be popular or something!  I assured her that wasn’t true & went to ask Andy what went wrong.  After talking it over we realized it was just a tiny misunderstanding that got blown way out of proportion.  It certainly got people jumping, though, didn’t it?

Did you know there’s a nationally known author of children’s books living in Springfield?  I interviewed him for an English paper.  It was a very shocking interview:  he’s not anything like I had expected.  He’s 38, tall, and thin like a basketball player.  He’s also gay, “living in the 90′s” as he puts it.  It’s weird because at one time he was married for 5 years and now he’s living with a man.

I started this letter on the 5th and now it’s 2:00 AM on the 9th.  I better say goodbye now and get some sleep!  Get it?  (Ha!)  ¡Hasta Luego!

Love,

Jolie

P.S.  Talk about hurting hands!

19 October 1990

Well, it didn’t work.  I don’t remember the dream.  Maybe next time.  Tonight I’m going to see the play “Cyrano De Bergerac” w/Debbie & Maggie.  Three days ago I went to see Suzanne Somers speak about her book Keeping Secrets.  She’s a great speaker and a good actress, because she told of some things that would’ve put the best of us in tears without a waiver in her voice.

Dale, Nancy, & Jenny are visiting Mom’s tomorrow, so I’m going to go home to see them and to see my Senior Class Video for the first time.  Then, next week some time, I’m going to see if I can get the family to come to the university and watch my home video from Spain for the first time.

________________________

SATURDAY

Striped flowers

Swaying foot

Empty box of chocolates

Crossword puzzles

Ticket stubs

What a lazy day!

Angela – 1990

Angela.  Such a controversial subject.  After sharing a room for as long as we have, you get to develop a lot of memories.  Oh, the fights we had!  Those are some of my fondest memories.  She is learning to make a life for herself, since she hasn’t been given the one she wanted.  She has developed a strong will power which I truly admire.  She convinced Mom to buy us contacts!  Also, she has something that I’ve long envied:  a long-term best friend.  She and Ashley go way back, and have held the friendship together all this time.  I’ve never had a permanent friendship that I can remember.  Even Denice and I aren’t really close.  Besides, Angie had a boyfriend already.  I don’t really envy her, since I chose not to go out w/any of the guys who asked me, but I do admire her.  She found someone worth going on a date with.  All this is basic, because you’d need a book to describe Angela.

(P.S.  I think I’m closer to Angela than to all my other sisters. – date unknown)

Monday, 27 August 1990 12:05 A.M.

What a day!  The morning started off slow – for me anyway.  I slept until almost noon because the day before had been stiflingly hot & humid without the least bit of wind, and Debbie and I had to move our stuff in to the dorms (by the way, both our rooms are on the 4th floor so we had to carry our things box by box up the 4 flights of stairs).  So the next day I slept until almost noon.  When I got up Angie was gone babysitting and Susie, Mom, & Jill were getting ready to leave.  Susie had oral surgery today to get rid of a rare extra tooth in her mouth.  Then she got braces on her upper teeth.  Joey spent most of his time outside mowing the lawn, so I sat around & relaxed a little bit after taking a long 1/2 hr. shower.  Then around 4:00 I got ready to go pick up Angie from babysitting.  She had walked there from Ashley’s where she had spent the night after Ashley’s back-to-school pool party.  We had planned that I would pick her up & take her home so she could change, then I’d drive her to McDonald’s for her orientation, since she just got hired.  While she was there, I was going to go to Kmart and look for school clothes.  She was supposed to meet me there and we’d put our things on lay-away with $5.00 Mom gave me (we have been short of money for the last couple months).  However, that’s not what happened.  I left to pick up Angie, knowing only what street they lived on and that Angie was going to be in the driveway waiting.  Angie wasn’t in the driveway, however, so I ended up driving down the street 3 times before she came out.  We had to hurry home by that time because Angie only had 15 minutes to change & get ready.  We came in the house & sat at the dining room table where Angie proceeded to tell me all about the pool party & how two guys threw her in the pool fully clothed twice.  We talked about 5 minutes until Joey called from the bathroom, “Jolie, come here.”  Angie remarked, “What’s he doing in there, anyway?”  I assumed we were out of toilet tissue or something, so as I started walking toward the bathroom I asked “What do you want?” to which he yelled “Just come here!”  I didn’t know whether he wanted me to go in the bathroom or not since he might be going to the bathroom, so I stood outside the door & asked “What is it?”  He shouted “Get in here!” & kicked the door open.  He had a cloth on his face & was leaning over the sink.  When I came in he removed the cloth and showed me his face.  “I accidentally burned my face,” he said.  The whole right side of his face was pink & a little puffy, but it also looked really strange and it wasn’t until later that I realized it was because his eyelashes & eyebrow had burned off.  Joey looked really shaken & started putting cold water on his face again.  I can’t remember exactly what happened after that, simply because I have a poor memory.  One of my first thoughts was of a man I had met at a wedding reception who had burned the same side of his face and it now looked almost like smooth plastic.  Looking at Joey, I knew it was very serious, but I didn’t think it would be so serious that he’d be scarred for life, and for that I thanked Jesus.  I remembered Mom was going to be at the dentist office for Susie’s braces at 4:00 and it was nearly 4:30 now, so I went and began searching through the yellow pages for the number.  Angie, in the meantime, was being rather insensitive.  She asked rudely “How’d you do that?” and when Joey explained he had been lighting a candle near gun powder & it flared up, she began telling him how stupid he was & kept chewing him out.  Finally I got sick of it & yelled at her that this was not the time, that we should worry about getting him taken care of first & then she could yell at him.

Finally, I got hold of the office & explained my mother, Jeanne, had a 4:00 appointment & I needed her paged since it was an emergency.  The lady kept asking if I was her mother or her sister or what.  When she at last realized Jeanne was my mother she had her paged.  While I waited I asked Joey if he could see through the one burned eye and, thank goodness, he could.  When Mom came on I explained calmly – for her sake – that Joey had burned his face, that I didn’t think it was too serious, and that I wanted to know where she thought I should take him.  She asked how it happened and if he could think clearly, to which I answered her briefly that he was alert & could see.  She told me to take him immediately to HMO Health and that she’d try to meet us there.  When I hung up, Angie asked What about her orientation? so I told her to run up & change quickly.  I would take us to HMO Health and she could go on to McDonald’s by herself.  I asked Joey if anything had started on fire and since he said he didn’t know I went & checked his room.  Everything appeared okay, but I began to suspect that he had been playing with the gunpowder as well.  While Joey put an ice pack on his face and went to look for a shirt, Mom called again to see if we should go to a different place near McDonald’s so we could drop Angie off.  I assured her that we had already taken care of it and told her what we planned.  Satisfied, she hung up again promising to meet us there.

I helped Joey get his shirt on since he was in major pain and was trying to keep the ice pack on it at all times, and ran a brush through my hair.  I yelled at Angie upstairs to hurry up & not to forget her purse, and that we were going out to the car.  In the car, Joey kept making these painfilled sounds and moving the ice pack from place to place.  After a little while, I started up the car and backed it up a little bit.  When Angie still didn’t come, I honked the horn a couple times.  Joey was getting impatient to leave, so I honked again.  Still no Angie.  Finally I honked it several times until Angie came out the door.  She started walking slowly to the car until I yelled at her to hurry up, so she at least picked up her pace.  All the way there I drove about 10 miles over the speed limit, watching for police cars and slowing down in well-patrolled areas.  When I got there, I stopped the car in the middle of the parking lot, told Angie good luck on her orientation, and got out.  Joey and I went straight up to the desk, and I explained to them that we didn’t have an appointment but my brother had burned himself and needed someone right away.  The secretary immediately called a nurse and asked for a name.  When she had pulled up his file, we were taken to the nearest empty room to wait for an available doctor.  When we asked for a new ice pack she got one right away.  A couple minutes later a doctor strolled in and sat down by Joey.  He was criticizing right away. As he nonchalantly looked at Joey’s face, which was now half red, he asked him what he had done.  Joey started explaining about the candle & the gunpowder when the doctor asked him what he was doing with gunpowder.  Joey told him a friend (Tony) had it over.  The doctor asked where he got it and Joey said it was from emptied bullets.  The doctor then wanted to know why he was playing with gunpowder and Joey explained that he was just about to call his friend to have him come over, so he had it sitting out to give to him when he got there.  I think the doctor went out about this time, because I know Joey and I were alone when he began whimpering about how much it hurt because the ice pack had gone warm.  I checked the drawers for another ice pack and found some paper towels instead.  I turned on the sink and soaked it with cold water.  Joey came over and used that while I tried to get our ice pack cold again under the faucet.  We used up about 4 of those paper towels before I went out in the hall and got a nurse to get us another ice pack.  She brought a small square one which didn’t work very well, so Joey went back to the paper towels.  Shortly another nurse came with a good one and had Joey lie down.  When the doctor came back he prescribed some creme for the face, said he’d need gauze, prescribed pain killers, and told us of an eye doctor he had to go see.  He thought there might be scratches on the cornea.  Since Joey was still complaining about the pain, I asked if he had anything Joey could take right now.  When the doctor left to check, the nurse came in with another ice pack.  Joey took the pill the doctor gave and we sat and waited for Mom to get there since Angie had our car.  While we waited Joey went through yet another ice pack.

Now up until then, I had admired how calm Mom had sounded over the phone.  I don’t know what they told her at the front desk when she got there, but when she came in the room she freaked out.