tHe wAy i c tHe wOrLd...
United States of Christina C. Bernal
When I say I don’t remember that day i'm not lying. I wish I did but I just don’t. Sometimes the most important stuff goes away. Goes away so bad it’s like it was never there to begin with. Its funny, the stuff that stick’s in your head. I could tell you forward and backward about some day when I was 5, and my day bought me a stupid ice-cream come. I could tell u the flavor of the ice cream. It was...pink bubble gum. And even stuff about the guy who scooped it out. His hair was fire red. All that stuff is there like it was happening right now, but I don’t remember that day. At least, not the stuff that they want me to. I remember it was the first really hot day of spring. I remember how the sun felt on the back of my neck. That’s about it. Here’s another one of those things that sticks. This one is something a friend of mine said to me. "You have to believe that life is more than the sum of its parts, kiddo." I remember it right down to the "kiddo" part. But when I think about what she said, the same thing always comes into my head. What if u can put the pieces together in the first place?
I know what they want from me. They want a reason. Something to tie it up with a ill bow and bury in the back yard. Bury it down so deep it’s like it never happened. They want me to say how i’m so sorry and it’s was my moms fault. Or maybe it was my dads fault. Or it happened because the TV or movies, or some junk like that. Or maybe I blamed some boy.
I don’t blame Daniel. I guess i’m suppose to b upset about what happened with him. I suppose to cry and all that junk. But i’m pretty sure I cried all the tears that I had out of me by now. The last time I crated was grandma's funeral. Here’s another one of those things that sticks. I remember this other kid, some cousin of mine or something, sitting their real polite with her hands folded up on her lap. I figured that’s how u was supposed to be and I didn’t want that kid to see me crying. But the tears came anyway. And that’s when I figured out that tears couldn’t make someone who was dead alive again. There’s another thing to learn about tears. They can’t make someone who doesn't love u anymore love u again.
It’s the same thing with prayers. I wonder how much of their lives people waste crying and praying to god. If you ask me, the devil makes more sense then god does. I could at least see why people want him around. It’s good to have someone to blame for the bad stuff they do.
Maybe gods their cause people get scared of all the bad stuff they do. They figure that god and the devil are always playing this tug-of-war game with them. And they never know which side their gonna wind up on. I guess that tug-of-war idea explains how sometimes, even when people try to do something good, it still turns out bad.
Well the truth is, I haven’t actually seen my dad since I was 6. Well he sent me plane tickets, one in the spring and one in the winter, every yr. since I was 12. One year he just decided he wanted me to come visit him for Christmas. But I had to fly to New York first, and then catch a plane to Paris. Once I got there, though, I just kind of decided to stay in New York. I told my dad about how there’s this sort of electricity in the air there and how I wanted to stay. He was ok with it. He even said something like I was a really neat kid for doing it. Well, once I got there, I couldn’t find a hotel. No one would give me a room. They were all so worried to give a kid a room, but it didn’t seem to bother them to send that same kid onto the street with no place to go. So I decided to hide out for a while and I found this movie theater. And after the first movie, this family came over and sat down next to me. And the dad, I guess he noticed the two big duffle bags that I had next to me. He made some corny joke about whether I was staying for a while. I told him how I came to be in New York and that got the moms attention. Her name is Angela. But I called her Mrs. Calderon then. She was worried about me. She said I could come stay with them for the holidays if I wanted. I said it sounded pretty good. You could tell their place cost a fortune. Well, their son…he was kind of snobby but ok. He just kept trying to kiss me and I wasn’t in to it then. They were all really nice to me, but particularly Mrs. Calderon. I just loved her eyes. It was like they reflected the electricity of the whole city. I didn’t feel lonely at all when I was around her. She kind of made me feel like everything was ok. (Or like stuff was wrong but I couldn’t see it.)
I think there are two ways to see the world. You either see the sadness that's behind everything...or u choose to keep it all out. I wasn't lying when I said I don't blame him. It was a couple days after the stuff with Daniel that I got the plane ticket to New York from my dad. I was excited to be back in the city, around Mrs. Calderon too. But as soon as I saw her, I could tell something was different. She was divorced. Turns out Mr. Calderon cheated on her for almost the whole time they were married. That night I told her about what happened with Daniel.
Mrs. Calderon: it happens at different times for different people...but it happens to everybody. It’s the worst part about growing up, heartbreak, but...it’s a part of life.
Me: it seems like a pretty big part.
Mrs. Calderon: that's why you have to believe that life is more than the sum of its parts, kiddo.
I kind of felt my heart breaking for her, but I knew that was no good. I wanted to do something for her, but their wasn't anything. Their wasn’t one thing I could really do. The electricity wasn’t in her eyes anymore. Her eyes were still reflecting what was there, but now it was the sadness. I started to see it everywhere. Every face was different, but the same. I saw it more in Ryan worse than anybody. All the words they were teaching him were things to stay away from. There weren't any words like "strawberry" or "kiss". You could tell he really liked this girl who worked there. But she just smiled at him. I started to think that he knew. He knew that nobody looked at him like a normal kid. People either laughed at him or felt sorry for him. But he couldn’t do anything about it. He was trapped. I couldn’t sleep. I hadn’t slept since New York. I would lie there and think about Mr. Calderon and I’d think about Ryan and I felt things tight in my chest. I felt like I was drowning. There’s all this sadness and there's nothing you can do about it. And all I wanted was for it to go away. When I say I don’t remember that day, I’m not lying. Wish I could remember, but I don’t. At least, not the stuff they want me to.
Maybe it makes sense now. Maybe somewhere in all of this, there's a reason. Maybe somewhere in all of this there is a why. Maybe somewhere there's that thing that lets you tie it up with a lil neat bow and bury it in the back yard. But nothing...not getting angry not prayers and not tears...nothing can make something that happened unhappen.
::U know I’m sorry don’t u?::
::I know it doesn’t change anything... but i’m sorry::
The worst part knowing that there is goodness in people. Mostly it stay’s deep down and buried. Maybe we don’t have god because were scared of the bad stuff. Maybe we're really scared of the good stuff. Because if there's no god, well, that means it's inside of us and we could be good all the time if we wanted. So when we do bad things, it’s because we want to or because we have to. Or maybe we just need the bad stuff to remind us what the good stuff is in the first place.
"::everything is gonna be ok... I promise::”