Page 1 of a FICTIONAL but some facts are true Story by Cory Darrow
I had never really given thought the sacrifices my mother had given unto me as a child until now, eight years later.My mother had been in prison since nineteen ninety nine and ever since then I was allowed four hours a day, one day a month with her.Yeah life was tough I guess you could say.Before she had gone to jail, she had lived on a property in Agua Dulce California of which I used to roam around on for miles.It was situated in the desert near the great red rocks of the little city.Between a narrow canyon with a little 'forest', which i had called the great amount of trees across the rocky, brown, dirt road, sat the actually house on a small hill side overlooking the forest.We did not live in the house for it was very old, rickety, and the previous owner that died did not take care of it.His name was Moe.Thats all that I really ever heard of him.Mother used to tell me stories of how when a free spirit died it would become a messenger, a crow, and its spirit carried away with the wind.
When I used to explore the forest, I always remember seeing so much wildlife in such a small quarter acre of greenland, mostly birds, some snakes, and occasionally a coyote at the top of the other side of the canyon. All over the property there remained abandoned mine shafts, which my mom became obsessed with.She used to take gold, not so much as to make a person rich, but put it in bottles with acid, and the stench stunk.OUR house was an R.V. that belonged to her friend Gary who was so kind as to let us use.At night we used to turn the generator off, and if and when mom had enough money to do so, she bought candles for a buck and we'd light them and tell ghost stories.The 'we' I'm referring to is my little kid sister, Krista.
My little sister was my mom's gift to me in this world. I was born January 6th 1988, and she was born January 6th except in 1993.So at the time we had lived in Agua Dulce, she couldnt be much more that six or seven years old.Looking back now, it would seem very boring living there but it wasn't the case at all.For a nine or ten year old boy a BB Gun and a Motorcycle are all he could ask for.Yep I had a PeeWee 50cc Honda motorcycle with those somewhat fat, bulky mud tires on them. I would ride for miles and miles on end with it.My favorite part to do was running it all the way up to Cory's Point (as I had cleverly named it), with my Krista on the bike near dusk and watching the sun taint the sky orange and yellow as it slowly sank behind the red rocks. On the way back to the R.V., which only took five minutes, we would talk about childish things like who could get inside the fastest.
Growing up I had to mature very early in life because of my mom's secret drug addiction I had to help mom the best I could to get money for us to get by, and we did. Damn right we did.Mom had the most wonderful gifts she could ever give any kid. Above all of them was love.She was a survivor as well, born and bred in Indiana she moved out to California to see if she could get a better job.Instead she met my dad and they hit it off for a few years and had me.They divorced when i was three so I got used to the fact that my parents had been seperated.Mom could surprise the hell out of you too, besides the fact that she was living off of food stamps time in and time out.Mom got me a bike. I remember it too, the day I arrived in the house she lived at in Van Nuys. A new green shiny brand spankin new huffy. The house we lived on in Van Nuys was situated on Vanowen right before Burbank Airport, apartment 06 of the motel.I couldnt think of the name of the motel, except all I can tell you was it was green.At one time we even lived across the street from where Rodney King, an african american, was brutally beaten by LAPD Officers, but that was after that had happened.This was the last place my mom had lived before she got into trouble.
The first time I arrived at the apartment was alone and I had seen the room we would stay in.The man my mom was dating at the time's name was Mike.I have to say, he was a really nice man, pretty cool.I remember reading a book at the time, I was in sixth grade I remember, which had to deal with secret codes and it taught you how to conceal them.One of the ways to do this was by rolling up a piece of paper with the code on it and putting it on the inside of a pen.I had tried this with one of mike's pens and it did not seem to work.I sat on the bed waiting for my mom to come in...it felt like forever.
When I used to explore the forest, I always remember seeing so much wildlife in such a small quarter acre of greenland, mostly birds, some snakes, and occasionally a coyote at the top of the other side of the canyon. All over the property there remained abandoned mine shafts, which my mom became obsessed with.She used to take gold, not so much as to make a person rich, but put it in bottles with acid, and the stench stunk.OUR house was an R.V. that belonged to her friend Gary who was so kind as to let us use.At night we used to turn the generator off, and if and when mom had enough money to do so, she bought candles for a buck and we'd light them and tell ghost stories.The 'we' I'm referring to is my little kid sister, Krista.
My little sister was my mom's gift to me in this world. I was born January 6th 1988, and she was born January 6th except in 1993.So at the time we had lived in Agua Dulce, she couldnt be much more that six or seven years old.Looking back now, it would seem very boring living there but it wasn't the case at all.For a nine or ten year old boy a BB Gun and a Motorcycle are all he could ask for.Yep I had a PeeWee 50cc Honda motorcycle with those somewhat fat, bulky mud tires on them. I would ride for miles and miles on end with it.My favorite part to do was running it all the way up to Cory's Point (as I had cleverly named it), with my Krista on the bike near dusk and watching the sun taint the sky orange and yellow as it slowly sank behind the red rocks. On the way back to the R.V., which only took five minutes, we would talk about childish things like who could get inside the fastest.
Growing up I had to mature very early in life because of my mom's secret drug addiction I had to help mom the best I could to get money for us to get by, and we did. Damn right we did.Mom had the most wonderful gifts she could ever give any kid. Above all of them was love.She was a survivor as well, born and bred in Indiana she moved out to California to see if she could get a better job.Instead she met my dad and they hit it off for a few years and had me.They divorced when i was three so I got used to the fact that my parents had been seperated.Mom could surprise the hell out of you too, besides the fact that she was living off of food stamps time in and time out.Mom got me a bike. I remember it too, the day I arrived in the house she lived at in Van Nuys. A new green shiny brand spankin new huffy. The house we lived on in Van Nuys was situated on Vanowen right before Burbank Airport, apartment 06 of the motel.I couldnt think of the name of the motel, except all I can tell you was it was green.At one time we even lived across the street from where Rodney King, an african american, was brutally beaten by LAPD Officers, but that was after that had happened.This was the last place my mom had lived before she got into trouble.
The first time I arrived at the apartment was alone and I had seen the room we would stay in.The man my mom was dating at the time's name was Mike.I have to say, he was a really nice man, pretty cool.I remember reading a book at the time, I was in sixth grade I remember, which had to deal with secret codes and it taught you how to conceal them.One of the ways to do this was by rolling up a piece of paper with the code on it and putting it on the inside of a pen.I had tried this with one of mike's pens and it did not seem to work.I sat on the bed waiting for my mom to come in...it felt like forever.