Lacey
watched the partially crusty, green-brown booger in Grandpa's nose
play peek-a-boo with the rest of
the dinner guests at the Gates thirteenth annual Fourth of July
barbecue. Her mom whispered into the ear of the ninety three year old
man and motioned for him to wipe his nose.
“What?” he said too loudly, her mom blushed.
“Oh
for heaven's sake Paul,” Lacey's grandma said, “you have a booger
hanging from the end of your nose.”
He
wiped his hand across his face and the disgusting chunk of naturally
occurring rubber cement rolled from the end of his nose and on to the
back of his hand. The eating had stopped and the cringing had begun.
It was a slow motion movie scene, everyone stared, with the exception
of Uncle Dale who's eyes never left his plate. His fork scraping
second rate china, the only sound in a room where the air seemed to
be quickly disappearing.
Grandpa flicked his hand and the booger went airborne. There was a
collaborative gasp, a cacophony of lamentations and two “grosses.”
The booger soared to a majestic height of six feet above the table,
seemingly suspended in mid air at the crest of its flight, spinning,
stretching and eventually coming to rest on top of Aunt Mava's
traditional barbecue delight, frog eye salad.
“Dear God Paul,” Lacey's grandma said bowing and shaking her head
ashamedly.
“Daaadddyyyyy....don't you have a hanky,” her mom said, eyes
glassy with welling tears.
“It
scared me,” Lacey's grandpa said, "sorry.”
Mom
grabbed the salad and hurried to the kitchen, and Lacey followed.
“This is why I didn't want to come to this freaking barbecue mom.”
“Lacey, not now,” she leaned, hands on the counter, head hung,
hair in her face, trying to regain her composure.
“Our family is a bunch of back country, red neck hillbillies that
never have anything to say or a new story to tell...a gaggle of
retards.”
Lacey's mother snapped to, “You just watch your mouth young lady
and get back in there. It's you they come to see you know.”
“Mom, if I hurried I could still make it to Heather's house in time
to go to the....”
“Get
back out there, now!”
“But...”
“Now!”
Stiff legged and as sure as ever that she was adopted, Lacey returned
to her spot at the dinner table, her mother hot on her heels. There
was no way she was going to eat another bite after the booger
incident, but it didn't seem to be stopping the gaggle from stuffing
a weeks worth of calories into their pie holes in one sitting. She
crossed her arm and stared nowhere in particular with a rather rotten
scowl on her face. After all, her mother could make her stay, but
she couldn't make her be happy. She decided she would stay this way
for the rest of the night, or at least until desert, she had been
eying the chocolate cake that her cousin Rose Marie had brought, and
she new well, in this house ,that bitchiness wouldn't buy a slice.
“So
Lacey,” Aunt Mava spoke, a false smile plastered across her chicken
waddle jowls, “what have you been doing with you summer?”
All
conversation had once again stopped, only this time all eyes were
trained on Lacey. If ever there were a first time that a teenage
girl grasped the concept of good and evil, the recognition of power,
the immutable size of the brick wall of will possessed by each and
every thirteen year old female, this was that day of reckoning for
Lacey. She felt a warmth wash over her body, a vibration worked it's
way from her toes to her cheeks, she tasted the syrupy sweetness of
control and had the feeling that she would be feasting on it heavily
for the rest of her life. She waited the awkward eternity before
answering. Unfolding her arms, she drew in a deep breath, cocked her
head at an angle as if in thought and began....
“I
started my period last week.”
The
gasps were more than audible this time, they were almost deafening,
second only in volume to the sound of jaws hitting the table.
“Mom
bought Kotex, but I think I would prefer OB, no environmentally
unfriendly applicator to contend with once I to start using tampons
instead of napkins. What do you use Auntie?”
Her
pasted on girly smile still radiated just enough contempt to be
detected by most of the women but none of the men at the table.
Lacey's father turned to her mother, mortified, face frozen in shock.
“I
thought you were going to have a little talk with her,” he spat
through clenched teeth.
The
tears were back, “I did, I did.....sort of. Well I didn't have time
to explain....ohhhh jumping jelly beans Roger I forgot.”
“Lacey honey,” her fathers voice whiny and high pitched, “We
just don't talk about things like that at the table.”
“I
thought you told me that it was natural.”
“
Yeah...well.”
Lacey's mother stood up and turned toward Lacey and glared. A smirk
played at the corners of Lacey's mouth. She watched as her mother
angrily stomped from the room. Slowly the utensils started to work
again, surprised looks and quiet murmurings not so quick to fade.
Lacey's mother returned with the chocolate cake and a small paper
bag. She left the cake at one end of the table and told Lacey's
father to start cutting and serving the cake to the guests. She
worked her way to Lacey's end of the table with the paper bag, asked
Rose Marie if she might sit next to her daughter and Rose Marie
moved.
Lacey
stared warily at her mother. Her mother had a look in her eye that
Lacey didn't like or quite understand. The look was stern and angry
but......in control, in an out of control way. For the second time
that day Lacey had an epiphany concerning control and this time it
didn't feel quite as warm and fuzzy.
“Well dear,” her mom said softly, “I can see you are so much an
adult now and I am afraid that I have neglected my duties as a mother
and have not given you all the things you need as a woman for making
proper decisions..you know...the talk.”
Lacey's stomach started getting nervous. She started to open her
mouth but her mother put her finger to her lips and shushed her.
“I
figure that while we have them here, we could have the whole family
get in on this learning moment, you know, give you some
advice.....lessons from people who have been there, kind of a family
hygiene night.” She stood up and dumped the contents of the bag on
the table and out spilled tampons, various forms of contraception, a
training bra and a handful of condoms.
“Would you like to go first Mava?” Aunt Mava couldn't speak,
couldn't move. Lacey's face had gone from stark white to rubber ball
red within a matter of seconds. Her lip began to quiver and now it
was her turn for the tears.
Lacey's mom suddenly feeling guilty and regretting her choice in
child rearing tactics, stood up and pulled a ten dollar bill from the
pocket of her blouse. “Go.....be careful”. Lacey bolted from the
table an disappeared. Her mother sat back and started to cry again,
looked at her own mother and asked her what she was going to do with
that child.
“Well
you sure has hell embarrassed her....and all of us. Kinda like the
time I caught you smoking and making out with the Smith kid in the
barn. Made you smoke a whole pack at the dinner table that night.
Maybe it wasn't right, but you didn't smoke no more after that.”
“Yeah....I
guess.”
“That's
all you can do”
-00-
