Lingo Slinger

She was a fragile young girl with stars in her eyes. At only 13, she looked much older and had the makeup, clothing and personality to prove it. She looked like trouble, but was actually quite responsible.

Her parents were alcoholics who liked to do coke on the weekends… and pretty much ignored her for the most part. They did all of the usual parent things like signing permission slips, picking her up when she needed a ride (sometimes drunk), and making dinner for her on occasion.

They’d spend their weekends bed ridden, with all of the curtains and blinds shut while Sarah cleaned her room, did her own laundry, made herself breakfast and headed out to enjoy the day. She tried to act as normal as she could under the circumstances and didn’t want to be in the house. It felt sad and lonely, always had.

Friends at school knew her parents partied hard and always used to say things like “your parents are so cool, I wish mine were like that”. She usually shot a nervous smile while thinking inside how much she yearned for a Betty Crocker mom. You know, one who loved to clean the house and serve milk & cookies to her friends.

Sarah’s mom was usually either rifling through her purse looking for her keys or a phone number, smoking and endless chain of cigarettes, or sleeping for days getting over one of her binges. Her dad was no better, only he at least worked and was a smidgen more responsible. He wasn’t her real dad… that one left them when she was a baby, but her mother had been with Rick for the longest time and she considered him a dad in a way. Sometimes he would actually talk to her and acknowledge her existence, which was more than her selfish mother did.

It was tragic really, but to Sarah, it was just life. She always said that she would move away and live in residence when she got accepted to University. The mere prospect of that, getting away, living with friends and being away from her parents, was enough to motivate her to do really well at school.

After school one evening Sarah was doing her History homework when her mom emerged on the stairs with her usual 6pm hangover. She glared at Sarah and headed straight to the kitchen to grab a bottle, that was how she started her day… with a drink. Her mom kept unusual hours, dinner was like breakfast to her, and when her mom was well enough to make dinner, it was usually breakfast.

“Hi mom”

“Hi” her mom sort of grunted

“Where’s dad?”

“He had to go pick something up.”

“Drugs?” she asked (which was unusual for her)

“None of your fucking business”

“Why don’t you guys go get help or something… It’s really pathetic mom. You guys can’t even live a normal life. I can’t even have friends over because you embarrass me.”

“Oh gee sorry I don’t fit into your cookie baking, tupperware selling model of a mother Sarah. You really don’t have a clue about life. You’re only 13, you don’t know shit.”

“I know enough to know that you’ve never been a good mother”

Her mother slammed the bottle down on the counter and stormed over to the table where Sarah was doing her homework. She pointed her finger in her daughters face and said “how dare you… how dare you say something like that to me.”

Sarah picked up her books, with tears in her eyes and said “You know what mom… you disgust me. You’re so fucked you don’t even know how to be nice to your own daughter.”

That night Sarah packed a bag, took down her posters, and stole some money out of her dads vault. She headed out the front door while her parents, oblivious to her actions, snorted coke and drank vodka in their bedroom doing god knows what else. She unlocked her bike, stood and stared at the house then rode off.

She showed up at a White house on the escarpment called Hope Place. She remembered seeing it once on a trail ride and thought it looked like the perfect home, the one she had always wanted. It was a shelter for abused women or something like that.

For a while she just sat outside on the curb staring up at the full moon and the sky full of stars. Eventually the porch light turned on and a woman appeared at the door.

“Hi sweetheart, what are you doing out here by yourself? Do you want to come in?”

Sarah began to cry. Nobody had called her sweetheart before, not even her own mother or father. She wiped her nose on her sleeve and picked up her backpack.

The inside of the house smelled sort of like vanilla and cinnamon. It was warm and cozy, the way a house should feel. There were no random scattered bottles, ashtrays full of dirty cigarettes, or mounds of laundry littering the hallways. The lamps were subtle, casting a warm glow on the caramel furniture she sat on.

The woman had dark curly shoulder length hair, bright blue eyes and a warm smile. She was dressed in yoga gear and looked pretty and approachable.

“I’m Grace” she said

“I’m Sarah”

“Do you want to stay here for a while?” she asked

“Yes please” said Sarah “I would appreciate that.”

“Okay. Well, we don’t need to talk tonight, we can do that tomorrow after breakfast. We usually go for a hike in the mornings too. Just sort of a little tradition around here. Why don’t I take you up and show you your room”.

Sarah nodded and followed Grace up the stairs to a large hallway with several rooms. The 3rd door on the Right was open. They walked in to a room with a 4 poster bed, a desk, bookshelf and separate bathroom. It was beautiful and perfect. It felt peaceful, like the kind of place you could go to escape when you wanted to.

“This okay”? Grace asked

“Yeah” said Sarah with a smile.

“Okay, good. Well, I am beat. I’m gonna head off to bed. If you’re hungry help yourself to anything you want in the kitchen. There’s a computer in the living room, and a TV in the den. I’ll see you in the morning Sarah. I’m glad you’re here.”

Sarah got into her PJ’s and laid in bed clutching her weathered old teddy bear Parson, while she stared out the window at the stars. She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but she knew it was at least better than yesterday.