Status: Active
The Girl in the Spiked Collar
Part 8
Months pass. Alistair is healthy and thriving as he should be seeing as though it is the day of his first birthday. I talked to Brian last week and told him. He said he’d send something extra special. I jump in the shower, Alistair on the bathroom counter in his carrier. “Mum, mum, mum, mum, mum, mum.” He babbles. “Honey, hold on, momma’s almost done.” I say, getting the soap out of my hair. “Mum, mum, mum.” I wrap a towel around myself and dry off, get dressed and brush my long blonde hair. It drapes down to the counter as I lean forward toward the mirror. “Almost done, honey.” I feel little tugs at my hair and look down. Alistair sits in his carrier just wrapping my hair around his tiny hands. I just smile. “You look so much like your father.” He even had the eyes: one dark, almost black and the other a very light blue. OF course, Brian wore contacts to produce that effect, but our son had it naturally. Of course, Ali’s hair is blonde, but I’m sure that it will get darker as he gets older. “Happy birthday, sweetie.” I say. He points to my computer. “Da da da da.” He babbles. “Do you want to watch daddy while mommy finishes her hair?” I ask. He smiles. I have always shown him interviews and videos of Brian, he knows his father is Marilyn Manson, he just doesn’t know the significance and probably won’t until he is much older. Marilyn begins talking and Alistair focuses on the screen, intently watching and listening. “Your father is a good man, he loves you very much, he just can’t be around.” I state. The interview ends. “Honey, does you want a birthday cake?” I ask. “Cakes! Cakes! Cakes!” He exclaims, clapping his hands. I set him down and he walks. Ever since 8 months, he’s been talking and walking. The doctor was surprised and says he’s very smart for his age. “Let’s go to the store, babe.”
I strap him in the cart and start shopping. “Mum, mum, mum.” “Interesting, tell mommy more.” I reply. He goes on saying random words as I pick out cake and frosting for his birthday party, along with some other groceries. Only one register open? That’s strange, usually there’s three. Oh well. I think. “Mum, this! This!” Ali pleads, pointing to a little baby bear plushie. “Ok honey. Just this once because it is your birthday and you are awful adorable and well behaved.” I tell him, handing the bear to him. Alistair greedily holds it in his little chubby arms and chews on it’s ear.
We approach the register and I see none other than my mother. I haven’t seen her in almost a year. She kicked me out when Ali was only a few days old. “Hey mom.” She ignores me entirely with nothing but an angry expression. “$82.78.” She said. “Mom, it’s me, your daughter, Shadow. Do you want to come to Alistair’s birthday party? He turned 1 today; you can come over if you want. I’m buying pizza tonight and there will be plenty of cake and ice cream if you wand dad want to come over. You don’t even have to get him anything, I know you guys probably don’t have a lot of money, but I think it would be really fun if we all get together.” I offer. “You are no longer my daughter and that is not my grandchild. I want nothing to do with either of you.” I kiss Alistair’s hair. “It shouldn’t be this way. You kicked me out, I didn’t leave or run away. I did nothing to any of you.” I respond, leaving the store.
Ali and I get home a few minutes later and I put away the groceries. “Who dat?” Alistair asks. “At the store?” I question. “Yesh.” “That is your grandma. She doesn’t like mommy very much so she doesn’t come see us.” I explain. What my mother said kind of hurts. Even with everything we’ve been through and all the things she and my father have done to me, I would still forgive them both. The only person I don’t forgive is Ronald, because there is no forgiveness for an adult who preys on children, especially when one of his victims was my three year old brother. “Alistair, do you want to go to the park and feed the duckies?” “Yesh!”
I put him in his stroller and walk to the park. He always likes that. In the mornings after breakfast, around 8:30, we head over there so I can go on a walk, it helps me think, besides the fact when I’m done walking, I can play with Alistair on the swings or take him down the slides with me. Going to the park is his favorite thing.
I take my son over to the duck pond where all the ducks live. He eagerly claps his hands. “Mum look!” He exclaims. “Here, sweetie. Do you want to feed them some bread?” I ask, handing him some torn up pieces. “Bread!” He throws the small bread chunks out to the hungry ducks. I take pictures like I always do. Keeping photographic memories is important to me.
When the bread is gone, I take him to play on the playground. Swings, then slides. After half an hour, we try to catch lizards and frogs. Dressed in the usual: Tripp pants, combat boots, a band T and a trench coat, Alistair runs after the reptiles as fast as his little legs can take him. It’s a nice day. Cool temperature, clear sky. “Got one!” “Great job honey!” I congratulate. Ali proudly holds a lizard up by it’s leg. “He come home?” Al asks. “Sure, sweetie, we can take him home. What are you going to name him?” “Frog!” He boldly announces. “A lizard named Frog?” “Yesh!” “That’s a good name, honey.” I answer.
We go home and put Frog in the old lizard tank. Alistair feeds him. “Sweetheart, mommy is going to give you a bath so you smell good for the party.” I say. Alistair walks over to me and I look in his mismatched eyes. Gosh he looks like Brian.
I give him a bath in the sink and change his clothes. Alistair now adorns a Marilyn Manson T, his favorite one, a leather jacket, combat boots and another pair of Tripp pants. “Do you still want pizza for your birthday dinner?” I ask. “Yesh!” He excitedly squeals. I’d given him pizza once before and he loved it. “Well, it wasn’t’ exactly pizza, it was the topping. The cheese and sauce and tiny soft bacon pieces. Bacon pizza is his favorite. I’d decorated the living room in rock music theme for his birthday. All the decorations had something to do with guitars, drums, microphones or keyboards. I even made the cake in a guitar pan and decorated it in red. It looked really nice. Even his presents were wrapped in guitar paper. Brian’s money didn’t leave us with much because he rarely sent any but I had been saving it up for this occasion for a while now. Alistair crawls over to the gift stack. “Prezies!” He shouts, a wide smile on his little face. “That’s right! And they’re all for you, hun.” I answer. He comes over to hug one of my legs. “We open prezies?” “I don’t know…” I say, pretending to be unsure. “Pwease?” Ali anxiously questions. “I suppose if you promise to eat your dinner. “Do!” “Ok, Alistair, mommy trusts you.”
I call in dinner and hand him a gift. Just as it reaches his tiny hands, there is a knock at the door. I didn’t invite anyone. Alistair runs to get it. “Hold on!” I call to whomever is outside. I help him reach the doorknob and what I see shocks and surprises me. “Brian?”
I strap him in the cart and start shopping. “Mum, mum, mum.” “Interesting, tell mommy more.” I reply. He goes on saying random words as I pick out cake and frosting for his birthday party, along with some other groceries. Only one register open? That’s strange, usually there’s three. Oh well. I think. “Mum, this! This!” Ali pleads, pointing to a little baby bear plushie. “Ok honey. Just this once because it is your birthday and you are awful adorable and well behaved.” I tell him, handing the bear to him. Alistair greedily holds it in his little chubby arms and chews on it’s ear.
We approach the register and I see none other than my mother. I haven’t seen her in almost a year. She kicked me out when Ali was only a few days old. “Hey mom.” She ignores me entirely with nothing but an angry expression. “$82.78.” She said. “Mom, it’s me, your daughter, Shadow. Do you want to come to Alistair’s birthday party? He turned 1 today; you can come over if you want. I’m buying pizza tonight and there will be plenty of cake and ice cream if you wand dad want to come over. You don’t even have to get him anything, I know you guys probably don’t have a lot of money, but I think it would be really fun if we all get together.” I offer. “You are no longer my daughter and that is not my grandchild. I want nothing to do with either of you.” I kiss Alistair’s hair. “It shouldn’t be this way. You kicked me out, I didn’t leave or run away. I did nothing to any of you.” I respond, leaving the store.
Ali and I get home a few minutes later and I put away the groceries. “Who dat?” Alistair asks. “At the store?” I question. “Yesh.” “That is your grandma. She doesn’t like mommy very much so she doesn’t come see us.” I explain. What my mother said kind of hurts. Even with everything we’ve been through and all the things she and my father have done to me, I would still forgive them both. The only person I don’t forgive is Ronald, because there is no forgiveness for an adult who preys on children, especially when one of his victims was my three year old brother. “Alistair, do you want to go to the park and feed the duckies?” “Yesh!”
I put him in his stroller and walk to the park. He always likes that. In the mornings after breakfast, around 8:30, we head over there so I can go on a walk, it helps me think, besides the fact when I’m done walking, I can play with Alistair on the swings or take him down the slides with me. Going to the park is his favorite thing.
I take my son over to the duck pond where all the ducks live. He eagerly claps his hands. “Mum look!” He exclaims. “Here, sweetie. Do you want to feed them some bread?” I ask, handing him some torn up pieces. “Bread!” He throws the small bread chunks out to the hungry ducks. I take pictures like I always do. Keeping photographic memories is important to me.
When the bread is gone, I take him to play on the playground. Swings, then slides. After half an hour, we try to catch lizards and frogs. Dressed in the usual: Tripp pants, combat boots, a band T and a trench coat, Alistair runs after the reptiles as fast as his little legs can take him. It’s a nice day. Cool temperature, clear sky. “Got one!” “Great job honey!” I congratulate. Ali proudly holds a lizard up by it’s leg. “He come home?” Al asks. “Sure, sweetie, we can take him home. What are you going to name him?” “Frog!” He boldly announces. “A lizard named Frog?” “Yesh!” “That’s a good name, honey.” I answer.
We go home and put Frog in the old lizard tank. Alistair feeds him. “Sweetheart, mommy is going to give you a bath so you smell good for the party.” I say. Alistair walks over to me and I look in his mismatched eyes. Gosh he looks like Brian.
I give him a bath in the sink and change his clothes. Alistair now adorns a Marilyn Manson T, his favorite one, a leather jacket, combat boots and another pair of Tripp pants. “Do you still want pizza for your birthday dinner?” I ask. “Yesh!” He excitedly squeals. I’d given him pizza once before and he loved it. “Well, it wasn’t’ exactly pizza, it was the topping. The cheese and sauce and tiny soft bacon pieces. Bacon pizza is his favorite. I’d decorated the living room in rock music theme for his birthday. All the decorations had something to do with guitars, drums, microphones or keyboards. I even made the cake in a guitar pan and decorated it in red. It looked really nice. Even his presents were wrapped in guitar paper. Brian’s money didn’t leave us with much because he rarely sent any but I had been saving it up for this occasion for a while now. Alistair crawls over to the gift stack. “Prezies!” He shouts, a wide smile on his little face. “That’s right! And they’re all for you, hun.” I answer. He comes over to hug one of my legs. “We open prezies?” “I don’t know…” I say, pretending to be unsure. “Pwease?” Ali anxiously questions. “I suppose if you promise to eat your dinner. “Do!” “Ok, Alistair, mommy trusts you.”
I call in dinner and hand him a gift. Just as it reaches his tiny hands, there is a knock at the door. I didn’t invite anyone. Alistair runs to get it. “Hold on!” I call to whomever is outside. I help him reach the doorknob and what I see shocks and surprises me. “Brian?”
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Lemme know how I did!