Amber Eyes Read online

  I was almost done mopping when the door slammed open and my mom stumbled in. Her heavy lavender perfume clashed with the Lysol’s, shrinking the trailer beyond its minute size. I had to open a window—both aromas couldn’t simply share the same space. “What are you doing here, Mom? It’s too early, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t call me Mom. It’s Laura, call me Laura. Is it so difficult for you to remember a five-letter name?” She leaned on the wall and took a hand to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut. “God, my head.” The sound of a fire truck siren screamed into the window and she grimaced, squeezing her eyes even harder. Then she collapsed on the couch, dropped her purse in the corner, and stared at me. “Take off those dark sunglasses, Alexandra. You shouldn’t wear sunglasses indoors. That’s why other kids at school call you names and say you’re a freak. Isn’t it enough you look like a boy?”

  Wow, tone it down, if you please. I pulled my cell phone and checked the screen. It was barely quarter to five, totally early. Either she had a problem at work or she was playing hooky.

  “Never mind,” she said. “I’m glad I found you here.” Mom pulled a small mirror out of her purse. “God, look at my hair! Bet people on the street think I’ve just escaped from a madhouse.”

  I scanned her messy Happy Hamburger uniform, her ruffled hair, and her glassy, amber eyes and nodded. People would really think she’d just gone nuts. Moreover, she was not blinking at all.

  Omigod! She was drunk, barely by mid-afternoon.

  “Are you okay?”

  My words somehow gave her a sudden adrenaline burst, or so it seemed. She got up and began to storm through the cluttered trailer, eluding my attempts to corral her back to the couch. She opened drawers and picked garments at random: a pair of shoes, a blouse, slacks. Then she searched the bunk beds. My hand flew to my mouth when I realized all her dress buttons were unfastened, showing off her naked back. Her bra was gone. I wondered where on earth she’d left it.

  “What’s going on?”

  She was searching even under the mattresses, but we were not hiding money there anymore. Had she forgotten? Or was she just desperate?

  “It’s okay, sweetie.” She rushed into the back bedroom, kicking its door open. Within minutes, she dashed back out, heavily burdened with clothes.

  “Lemme take that.” I removed the bundle from her trembling hands and placed it on the couch.

  “Look, it’s okay.” She put her hands on my shoulders. “I’ll be back in a few days. Meanwhile, be good to Yago and take care of the twins.”

  Back in a few days? What the hell?

  “Have you been drinking?” A stupid question in view of the evident. I could smell it on her breath—her perfume couldn’t disguise it—but I had to ask.

  “Just a li’l to be brave enough to quit my job.” Mom produced a small traveling bag from another drawer and forced in her bundle of clothes and shoes.

  “But… you’re, like… gonna find a new job, aren’t you, Mom?”

  She slammed her open palm on the table. “Don’t call me Mom, for God’s sake! No, I won’t be searching for another job. Not ever again.”

  I gulped, walking backwards until I leaned on the trailer’s door. “You’re scaring the hell out of me.”

  Mom stopped short before me and caressed my cheek. “It’s okay.”

  “You’ll come back, won’t you?”

  She withdrew her hand and pursed her lips. I pulled the sunglasses down a bit and glared at her over the rim. Our eyes locked. A buzzing fly passed between us.

  She threw her arms up in the air. “I’m fed up with Yago. That’s what’s going on. I just met this guy Zachary a coupla weeks ago and he asked me to travel to Lake Taylor with him. Coupla days, both of us, no kids, chilling out. I really need it.” She put her hands together as if praying. “You know how much I do. He’s a few blocks away, waiting for me in his car.”

  Now I knew where she’d left her bra.

  She had to be kidding. We’d just moved in with Yago in March, she couldn’t possibly be dating a new guy… unless she planned to move again.

  “He’ll take me to Orlando to live with him.” Omigod! She really planned to move again. She began talking very fast, but I didn’t pay attention. “He’s got a lovely place … he’s shown me pictures … he’s a Disney World officer … five years my junior …”

  Minutes ago, I could hear the twins playing outside the trailer and the Route 133 rumble. Now, it seemed a parallel universe had just sucked them up, leaving Mom and me alone, surrounded by sheer silence. I couldn’t believe she intend to ditch Yago. The freaking aggressive guy had already beaten her twice because he sniffed she was cheating on him. Looks like he hit the nail on the head.

  “Mo—”

  “I’ve finally made it. No more problems. No more money shortages or living on coupons ever again. I’ve finally found a man who’ll take care of me.”

  She should be worrying about taking care of me instead. Back when we moved in with Yago, she’d told everybody she’d finally found a good man who’d take care of us. Just check her now: she was dumping him.

  “But what about Yago?” I blurted, finally able to speak. My stomach had vanished, leaving a hole. “You’re ditching him. If you go for the weekend and leave me here, he’s gonna take his anger out on me!”

  She took her time. Everything was so silent I could hear the gears moving inside her brain.

  “Don’t worry about Yago. I’ll explain it to him later,” Mom kissed my cheek, pushing my sunglasses upwards. “Take off those sunglasses. Right now.”

  Screw the sunglasses! I wanted to know how this was any different. Besides, while this was a hell hole, I didn’t want to settle in Disney World either. Jenny lived here in Somerset, I—

  “Explain him later? Tell me what I should tell Yago, today. He’ll freak as soon as he finds out you’re gone. He’ll beat me to death.”

  “Oh! Today… of course…” Mom frowned. “You don’t have to yell at me. I can hear you perfectly well.” She moved her hand as if dismissing somebody. “Just tell him I had a problem and will be back in a few days.”

  “Seriously? Do you really believe he’ll take it that easily? He’ll freak out, throw things, and behave like a schizo.”

  I couldn’t stay if she was leaving. On the other hand, I couldn’t leave Somerset either because Jenny had just asked me to be her girlfriend. What an impossible decision. I stood motionless for some seconds, staring at Mom like a retard. Then I pictured Yago again, behaving like a madman once he’d discovered Mom had ditched him without even a good-bye. In a blink, I decided to run for my life. I sprang to my bunk bed. “I’ll go with you!” I hated leaving Jenny, but I couldn’t stay here either.

  I scrounged for my backpack. I grabbed anything I could quickly: jeans, T-shirts, panties… then I froze. Mom had just knocked over the bucket and mop as she wrenched open the door and walked out. Sounds poured in through the open door like a flood: car honks, kid laugher, dog barks, the wind.

  “Zach said it should be only the two of us and no kids.” Her face peered in from behind the door. “If you need anything, find my mother-in-law. Remember her? She still lives in Abbeville. Her full address and number are in my little green notebook.”

  The hair on my nape bristled. ‘If you need anything’ could only mean she had no plans to come back at all. About my grandmother, Mom had to be kidding again. I was four years old the last time I saw my grandma. The woman was probably dead by now.

  “Wait!”

  Mom threw me a kiss. The backpack fell out of my hands and its content spilled out on the floor. I dropped to my knees and frantically scooped everything back in.

  “Need to rush. See you.”

  I was still on my knees, begging. “Mom, wait—”

  “Don’t call me Mom!” Her eyes sparked and her cheeks flushed, but then she paused and swallowed hard. “Listen to me. Yago likes you. You’ll be fine with him. Besides, you’ve a family here. You belong to a fam
ily, and I couldn’t give you one. I’m doing this because of you.” Her eyes lit up for a second, only to become glassy again.

  Had alcohol softened her brain? We’d only lived with Yago for barely three months, who could tell what he’d risk doing? She said Yago liked me—in his bed, in the best case. A fourteen-year-old girl like me didn’t belong in Yago’s trailer. Mom couldn’t be doing this to me. Could she?

  But she was!

  I got to my feet, holding to the couch with one trembling hand while I grabbed the backpack with my other. I held it tight as if it were a bag full of gold. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. My mind was blank, it needed a cold reset. When Mom let the door slam behind her, my legs vanished—at least that’s what it seemed like, because I couldn’t feel them anymore—and I collapsed on the couch. I could neither blink nor move my eyes. I stared blurry-eyed at whatever stood in front of me and sighed.

  Each time Mom had ditched a boyfriend or vice versa, we’d always run away together, except for today. Today, she’d just discarded me, flushing me down the proverbial toilet and walked away. Long ago, one day at school, she’d promised me she’d never leave me, but she’d just flushed her promised down the toilet too.

  # # #

  I am six years old and this girl at school tells me a secret during recess. Her mother had run away from home with a guy and she’s now staying at her grandma’s. I totally freak out because it sucks. Also, because I fear Mom might ditch me too. I remember we once lived with my grandma in a very large house, but that’s all that comes to my mind. What would I do if Mom leaves me?

  When she picks me up after school, I bolt into her arms and start to sob, hugging her hard. She pushes me back and frowns. “What’s going on with you? You’ll mess up my clothes.”

  “Mom, you’d never leave me, would you?”

  Mom rolls her eyes. “I’ve told you a million times not to call me Mom. It’s Laura. Call me Laura.”

  I wipe my cheeks and sigh. “Why call you Laura, Mom? You’re my mom, not one of ma’friends.”

  She takes my hand and we start walking toward the exit. “Cause you make me feel old. Besides, it’s better if guys think you’re my sis before they learn you’re my daughter. See that guy over there? The one standing by the blue convertible? He’s Alphonse, my new boyfriend. Don’t call me Mom when we’re with him. I’m deadly serious.”

  A jock in Tommy Hilfiger clothes is leaning on a super cool convertible parked outside the school. I wonder whether she may run away with him and leave me behind as had happened to my friend. The though overflows my mind with dread, accelerating my heartbeat.

  “But, you’d never leave me, would you… Laura?”

  She rolls her eyes again. “I didn’t dump you when I should’ve. I see no reason to do it now.”

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise I’ll never leave you. Happy?”

  # # #

  It seemed she finally found a reason to break her promise. I wanted to run after her, but I couldn’t move. I remained frozen on the sofa moving only my fingers, twirling my apron laces. Thousands of questions flooded my mind: Who’d take care of me now? Would Yago allow me to stay? Should I find a job? I hugged my knees to my chest.

  Wild guffawing came through the open window. Maybe the twins—it sounded like them. I glanced sidewise. Yes, it was the twins in hysterics, rolling on the flowerbed by the trailer and crushing the flowers, pair of li’l cuckoos.

  I sobbed, “Jennifer.”

  Of course, Jennifer couldn’t hear me. I broke down, weeping like crazy and only stopped when it was dark and the kids came in asking for dinner.

  June 29

  I never told Yago Mom ran away. Nevertheless, he learned about it and didn’t show up until the next day totally drunk and freaked out. Afterwards, he kept freaking out. At the drop of a hat. I preferred to avoid him; the twins did likewise.

  Of all my mom’s stupid little boyfriends, Yago sucked the most. Don’t think the rest of them didn’t. Bernard, for example, owned a large house by the beach, but he stood permanently drunk. Cesar lived in this fancy apartment but he enjoyed cocaine. Daniel used to buy us all the clothes we wanted each time he had to apologize for beating Mom—I could go on all day long with the list. However, Yago’s making us live in that filthy, half-vacant trailer park took the cake. I totally hated the freaking place.

  I didn’t belong in that trailer park. No teenager did. It was full of white trash and drug dealers. Gave me the creeps after sunset because it was so dangerous. I still wonder why we had to move in with every guy Mom hooked up with, no matter how crappy his place or the guy himself.

  I didn’t know how long Yago would let me stay in his trailer before he would kick me out. All the time, he either leered or glowered at me, and none us spoke a single word about Mom. I found Mom’s little green notebook and had looked up my grandma’s phone and address, but I hadn’t called her yet. To contact my grandma would mean leaving Somerset and I didn’t want to. I wanted to live close to Jenny—I wondered if her folks would allow me to move in with her.

  When Yago arrived home from work two days later day, a woman from the Social Services was waiting for him outside the trailer. They talked for about an hour, or I should say they argued for about an hour. I could hear Yago shouting while I cooked dinner. As soon as she left, he came in, slammed the door and started to curse—no big surprise. “It’s damned hot outside! And that damned woman kept talking and talking. Yada, yada, yada. Damn her! I’m hungry. Alexandra. How about dinner?”

  He was so upset, his eyebrows had joined into an actual unibrow. His face looked reddish and his forehead was furrowed like a plowed field.

  “If you want dinner, be back in a few,” I barked back. If he was not in the mood, neither was I.

  “You’ve only got five,” he grumbled. Then he spanked my butt. I yelped.

  He entered the back bedroom, but he didn’t close the door. I saw him taking off his shirt, unbuckling his belt, and unfastening his trousers. I turned away and concentrate on the dinner. If he wanted me to watch him stripping, he was mistaken from A to Z. I swear if I saw his ‘thing’, I’d throw up. God, I didn’t even want to think it!

  Five minutes later, he came back boasting his naked chest: he’d only donned some old, faded blue jeans and sandals. Hadn’t anyone ever told him how gross his hairy armpits looked?

  Yago threw his humongous self on the couch—it squeaked like he was sitting on a bag full of cats—and grabbed the TV remote to start endlessly browsing the channels.

  “Hey Dad, we were watching TV!” little Louis complained. His eyebrows also joined into a unibrow.

  “Guys,” he said hugging them, “you’ve had the TV for yourselves all day long. It’s Daddy’s turn now. Here. Have ten dollars each. Alexandra will take you to buy something after dinner. Now, go and play outside. Deal?”

  At the speed of light, a wide grin drew itself on Louis’s face. He looked at his brother with mischievous eyes, obtaining the same look in return. They nodded at once, took the bills, and left the trailer. Louis stopped when he passed by me and said in his high-pitched li’l voice, “Daddy said you take us to buy candy after dinner.”

  Of course, that’s what slave-nannies are expected to do, to take their master’s kids everywhere they want to go. Once the kids made their exit, Yago crossed his arms and his countenance mutated: His face recovered the reddish hues and his forehead furrowed. He pursed his lips and any trace of a smile vanished. “That goddamned bitch.” He snapped his fingers. “Alexandra, hand me a cold beer.”

  We had a small refrigerator under the kitchenette’s cabinet. I bent to pick up a Budweiser, and Yago scanned my buttocks. The perv was drawing my panties’ shape in the air with a finger. In a second, my face turned hotter than a frying pan and I couldn’t help it.

  “I like it when you blush.” He snatched the Budweiser away from my hand—like a lost Sahara traveler grabbing the only glass of water left. “Makes you look sexy,
like a Hooter’s girl.”

  He gulped a large swig of beer and spat, tightening his neck muscles—just as if he’d drunk acid. “Puaaj!” He wiped his mouth with his forearm. “It’s warm, you stupid bitch. Bring me a cold one, damn it!”

  Hoping this wasn’t the start of an argument that would end with me kicked out or beaten, I sprung back to the fridge, quickly touching each beer can. A cold one… a cold one… a cold one… Omigod! All were warm.

  “Like… that’s the coldest one…” I pursed my lips.

  “What the hell’s going on? Why aren’t my beers cold?” His eyebrows joined again into a unibrow.

  I gulped. “It’s not my fault. I had to bathe the twins and there was nothing for dinner. I had no money, so I went to Mrs. Olsen’s first, but she—”

  “What has all that crap got to do with my beers?” He was totally pissed off now. His unibrow stood out even more, and he turned off the TV. Pin-drop silence followed. I curled the apron’s laces around my fingers. “Talk to me girl. Is your first name ‘retarded’? Why aren’t my damned beers cold?”

  This time, he shook the beer can right in front of me, almost touching my nose. I had to cross my eyes to focus and then I tilted backwards. Sweat droplets trickled down my armpits.

  “Like… I think… I forgot to put them in the fridge.” As I talked, an airplane passed over us. The window panes vibrated.

  “You think what? Talk louder, you freak, I can’t hear you.” It wasn’t just the plane’s uproar. Yago enjoyed making me repeat things, even if he’d heard them right the first time. I was paying for Mom’s running out on him, just as I’d feared.

  “Like… I think I forgot to put them in the refrigerator,” I repeated louder. Then I dropped my head, staring at the floor. My hands feel numb so I clenched and opened my fists several times.

  “And I think you’re a stupid li’l lesbian. Do you expect me to drink hot beer, dumb? Ehh? You’re retarded, aren’t you?” He hammered my head with a finger. I ducked and backed off one step.