6. 26.

2008 HOME WRECKER e genevieve williams copyright 2008

I see coral snakes out the screen door. theyre the most dangerous snakes in this area. theyre moving out from a curled up pile in the dirt under the porch. Im nose pressed against the screen. aghast. one goes for me through a hole in the screen. five inches of body fronted by a spitting head comes right at me. I jump back. hes gone. must be bad karma bringing them around me. or a warning. Ill have to figure that one. quick. remember seeing a product called snake away at the feed store last time I was in. thought passed that Id never need it. get along fine with the rattlers and copperheads round here. hadnt guessed Id run into corals. maybe Ill get a box of that. wonder how it keeps them away and if itll have the same effect on corals?

DAD LOVED MOM!!!

its my waking thought. Im bolted upright in bed. he hated her too.

but, what Ive glossed over, always, is that he loved her. couldnt go there before. but, phyllis is out of the mix now. after eight years of mourning and celibacy. her new boyfriend is caring for in the ways she deserves. in the ways she always deserved. maybe her being cared for is why I can now dare acknowledge that DAD LOVED MOM. yikes. how could he? shes a royal bitch. worse. shes a liar and a conniver. oops. those are my feelings. not necessarily dads. though he has voiced those opinions. and, he stayed away from her for thirty years. far away. its me that split them. I see it now. bet it happened after the accident.

me, just one and half years old. sitting on my mothers lap while dad drove. yeah, I know. there are rules against that now. this was the fifties. before there were rules. car hit us, passenger side front smashed in. mom was unhurt. I went hurdling through the front windscreen. landed on the hood. scars down the front of my face to prove it. no pics of the little kid from that time until I was about five. no wonder. those scars must have humiliated and guilted my father. he couldnt take care of his little girl. not against that! called me to the refrigerator every morning. rubbed a stick of cold cocoa butter on the scars. I loved the smell. loved the ritual. loved the man. maybe thats where mom and dad parted. with and because of me--

--home wrecker. I became dads first girl. a pawn on the love chess board moved forward. into the king and queen zone. usurping and replacing the queen. harsh. its my fault what happened between them. not as in Im guilty of splitting them. but, as a consequence of the accident and how they both reacted. mom was fine. dad and me sustained injuries. he cracked a rib or several and a tore ligament in his shoulder. I remember that the shoulder bothered him on occasion. probably more than occasionally. though he kept that stiff upper lip. I was scarred from the forehead down one side of my face through my upper mandible. still isnt right. now that Im aging, I see Ill need to get it fixed. damn. no dental insurance. of course. from the time of the accident on, I became my daddys princess.

and took the front seat, both literally and figuratively. I became his bride. my mother must have hated that. and, hated me for it. she raged. the more she raged, the uglier she became. both to me and to my dad. little by little we marginalized her. then eclipsed her altogether. she became a no-one in our lives. a gnat to be contended with, but hardly more than that. she raged louder and louder. we grew more and more disgusted with her. hated her. reviled against her. she was unladylike and without deportment. no decorum. a mere gutter rat. listen to my disgust for her. maybe I was the one who encouraged it. created some of it. turned my father against her.

and bonded with him. maybe I lashed myself to him. so that Id always be his and first in his life. something my mother could no longer do. since she was the survivor of the accident. while dad and I were victims. victims become good cell mates. thats where we found each other. in the jail cell of his marriage to her. maybe I was the intruder, the conniver, the opportunist. thought scares me. but, maybe thats where I need to go. cant figure my life without knowing these things. because theyre following me. dynamic reoccurring in every relationship. I must come first. at least thats how its told back to me. more often than not. dont see it that way. but, why would i? I feel deserving of that and more. entitled. must be difficult to negotiate.

I must be difficult to negotiate. conclusion: thats why Im here.