We drove through darkness searching for her hearts captor; she suspected he was with another woman. And she was right. We pulled into an apartment complex bending around buildings looking for just the right spot. She should’ve told me to wait in the car-why didn’t she? Why did she need me there, was I there with all my five years to support her? Or did she need me by her side as a bite in her reins? I’ll never know, but it wasn’t because she was afraid to leave me in the car alone, that happened plenty of times. (As it did to most back in the seventies and even eighties.)
I followed behind her as we edged ourselves behind bushes looking through windows and glass sliding doors. She found the betrayal. My thin hair kicked with the wind as I listened to her chaotic breathing. We moved towards the door, she knocked-nothing. She beat her fist against the wood paneling, and I shrank. She heard someone coming deciding to withdraw her concealed butchers knife. I stood behind her, hiding in the shadow of the blade. He opened the door, she merged forward, he grabbed her wrist; I screamed and ran, my little legs pushed forward as fast and far away as they would carry me.
I collapsed flattening my belly under a car as I sobbed into the nook of my arm, begging for something or someone to save me. I watched and waited, hoping she’d sober from her bruised ego and hysteria cocktail. Even at five, I knew what I saw wasn’t right- knew it was too much for me to comprehend and I learned to shutdown, how to detach myself from her. (I’m still working on that one today-how to have a relationship with her without detaching but still maintaining appropriate boundaries.)
She and the accused searched for me until I felt their efforts were serious enough to bring me out of hiding. At that point, I was no longer afraid, more so I was attempting to control their behavior by distracting them from their vicious electricity. (This is another one of my favorite vices-control. I try to stage and predict scenarios the way I did in the secret world of my dolls, but I’m trying to let that one go too.) I watched as they settled and listened to their words as they called out for me. The night finally felt safe enough for me to come out of hiding. I crawled out calling to my mother to come get me. The rest is blank.