Just For The Rush

My mother left my father and our little family when i was only a little girl of six, and such a sad sob story that was! I was just sitting with my older brat of a sister, Danka, playing Barbie's. She was Barbie, of course, and i was Ken. Of course i had to play the male figure in every game we played or she would pull my hair and scratch the living hell out of my arm (oh the damn nails on that girl).

"I'm the oldest, Veda. I get to be the beautiful girl," she would say spitefully brushing Barbie's hair. As soon as she was satisfied there were no knots in the poor plastic doll's hair, she would braid it.

"But your fatter," I'd say holding out the Ken doll.

Danka had always been a fat child, and i liked to remind her of it every chance i got. It made me feel better about myself in a masochistic sort of way. Maybe i wouldn't say anything if she would just let me be Barbie.

Thank the Lord before Danka could murder me, mother ran upstairs and picked me up into her arms. She just held me for a second and ran her fingers through my hair a bit. Well, as much as she could with my hair being in a braid. And if i remember correctly, she sort of sniffed me as if she was trying to remember my scent. Maybe she was.

"Mother, tell Veda she has to be Ken," Danka whined in her Twinkie fat suit known as her skin.

"Mother, tell Danka she's fat," I mocked in the same whiny voice.

You'd expect a mother to scold her children for fighting, but she just stood for a few moments holding me. Only me. She didn't move towards Danka, and to this day i still wonder if she even said goodbye to baby Daniella.

"Be good for your Papi, Veda. He will need you for a while now." That was all she said to me before she was out the door and onto her new life elsewhere. I guess her life plans just didn't include us. No problem. We got along fine without her anyway.

At the time, i didn't even know she was leaving us. All i really was thinking about was how much i didn't want to be Ken. If you really look at him, he isn't even very cute. He has plastic hair for chrissake! Danka looked more like him, anyhow.

I was in the process of thinking of a master plan of grabbing Barbie and running to my room while avoiding the deadly nails of Danka's when she ran to me. She smothered me with her body, and her tears were started to turn my hair damp. It was so startling, this show of affection, that i just stood there flabbergasted. I didn't even dare breathe.

If it was anyone else i probably would have just pushed them away and ran to my room. But the volume of Danka's sobs and the rate at which my shirt was getting wet caused me to remain unmoved. It almost made me want to hug her back. Almost.

At that moment it actually hit my first grade mind that my dear Mami was leaving me. It didn't matter she was leaving my lazy father or my cry-baby sisters. She was leaving me. Me, her little Veda Marie. Her favorite, and the only one of her three children she loved enough to read to every night before tucking me into bed and chanting a protection prayer. I was her reason for living, so why did she leave me?

It's a funny feeling you get when someone leaves you. Its just like a place in your heart leaves you. The open space leaves you feeling open and vulnerable. And that vulnerability can be so bad, it cause you to hug the sister you absolutely despise, and even join her in her hearty sobs.

But hell, that was ten years ago. Almost a lifetime if you really think about it. I've moved on. Danka has moved out and is already starting a family with her fiance James. But I'm not here to talk about her. No, this story is about me. Me and my little.. secret.