Читать книгу The Pink Sneakers Club - Christian Jr. Bertoni - Страница 4

Thursday, 6:00 AM

Goth girls are made, not born. I’m always up at the butt-crack of dawn working out on my punching bag in my non-existent backyard. Remember I live in a shitty trailer park. So backyards aren’t really backyards but more like a piece of grassy space.

Jab, jab, jab, uppercut, uppercut, jab, jab, jab, body shot, body shot, more jabs, end with a kick to the groin. Repeat twenty more times.

After that, I worked on my parkour, for those of you who don’t know, it’s the ability to move from point A to point B using your environment. Been working on my parkour since I was thirteen. We have an old picnic table that serves as my obstacle. I spent a half-hour jumping on and over the table. Working on my form.

Done! I’ve worked up a pretty good sweat. Time to go. I entered the trailer through the sliding back door. Randi will be here in a half-hour.

After showering I went to my room cranked up the stereo and jammed to a little Anthrax while getting dressed. My room was covered with posters of vampires. No Twilight, the series are a little too pedestrian for me. I likes muh vampires a little darker, a little more sadistic. My room ain’t much, small window, one old severely worn leaning to one side dresser against a wall, and a mattress on the floor and that’s pretty much all your going to fit in here.

I’m wearing a black corset over my shirts sloppily thrown underneath, along with my black and white scarf around my neck. My legs sport a black ruffled skirt and torn fishnets.

As I’m sure Randi has already told you I have black shoulder length hair, with chin-length bangs - always dark purple. It’s not that it’s my favorite color; it’s just too much of a pain in the ass to change. I’m thin and wiry, and my pale skin goes great with my Goth look. I love my black eyeliner and lipstick and my piercings and tattoos - it freaks the shit out of pretty much anyone I meet. Spread across my back is a fallen angel tattoo kneeling over the world. On my arms and part of my legs I’ve got some tribal tattoos and that’s it.

I slipped on some pink high tops and headed for the kitchen to grab a quick bite. I walked down the super narrow hallway. It was a single-wide trailer, 2 bedrooms, one for me and one for my parents. The trailer looked like it hadn’t left the 70’s. EVER. Walls were plastered with that faux wood paneling. Dirty orange shag carpeting with burns and stains completed the ensemble. Indian art decorated the walls, feathers and wolves and women in hides. My mother thought it would class up the joint. If I had to pick ONE bad thing about living in a trailer it would be the heat. In the summer it was like sleeping in a toaster. There was a window air conditioner in the living room that would sometimes slightly cool the room.

My mom was sitting lazily on the couch, the smell of meth mingled with the sour, choking smell of tobacco and beer still lingered in the air from last night. Her friend lay slumped on the floor - wasted.

“Hey, Kaye get yer’ momma anotha’ beer would’ja darlin’?”

She was still drunk, slurring her words.

“No. You’ve had enough.”

“Don’t sass me. I’m yer’ momma.”

“Maybe you should start acting like it.” I said under my breath. I wasn’t in the mood to start anything with her. She could be a god-awful drunk when she wanted to be.

“Why’s he still here?”

“Jimmy’s muh friend. What? You think he should drive home in his condition?”

“I don’t really care. Dad’ll be home soon.”

My dad. God love’em but he ain’t the brightest bulb in the pack. He works at the chemical plant as a janitor by night and by day he works at the convenience store down the road. All to support my mother’s drug habit. He was of course no saint. Heavy drinker and smoker himself.

The kitchen was disgusting. When I saw a pile of dirty dishes in the sink, I sighed a big sigh. This formidable Jenga of mismatched tableware and utensils had gnats and flies buzzing around feasting on the rotting food.

I watched my mom as the smoke curled and licked the ceiling, the walls yellowed with it. Her lips wrapped around the filter, staining it red. Her glassy blue eyes looked at me with an amused expression.

“So.” She ground the cigarette into a glass ashtray, intricate designs etched into the glass were hidden by ash and cigarette butts.

“So, get him outta here.” I said.

No answer. My mom was too busy holding in the smoke; I could hear the rattle of her chest as it was expanding.

Whatever! I shook my head in contempt. I grabbed a box of Frosted Flakes and began pouring them into the last clean bowl when a cockroach the size of Rhode Island fell out. “Oh God!” I dropped the bowl. “Dammit!” The loud crash startled my mother.

“What’ju do now?!?! You so damn clumsy girl! Now clean it up! You think money grows on trees?” She lit another cigarette, coughing until a large lump of greenish, brown phlegm came out and she spat it on the carpet.

“You clean it up! I hate this shit-house!” I grabbed my smokes and ran out the front door.

Randi finally arrived. Late! Perfect. My day was starting out pretty shitty. I hopped in the car and slammed the passenger door. As we drove off I waved to my dad, who was coming home. I don’t really know what he sees in my mom anymore. He says she used to be a real looker, I don’t see it. All I see now is a body ravaged by decades of drugs, cigarettes and alcohol abuse. Her face looks like a road map of deep wrinkles, her body withered and leathery. She stopped wearing a bra so now her boobs sag down and to the side. Whatever she was she’s not that woman.

Randi pulled me out of my reverie. We had our usual gossip I think she enjoys it. It helps her to distract her from my life.

We arrived at the school, said our good-byes and headed for class. By the way I don’t bound as Randi had told you before. I walked slowly as if my life had no real purpose. As I reached the door to my first period class, Geometry, I decided to skip it. I’m just not in the mood to learn about Rhombus, Parallelo-something. I don’t know and frankly I don’t care. I walked outside and took a seat behind a large oak tree. Away from anyone able to spot me.

My life’s a mess, my parents . . . practically non-existent. If it weren’t for Randi and the others I don’t know what I’d do. I do know that I’ve got another year and half before I graduate and then – I don’t know. I’ll figure something out. All I know is I need some substance in my life. Something I can hold on to. Something real. Something I can look at and say I did that. That’s what I need.

I looked to my left and saw Natalie Pelledario talking animatedly to Mr. Dinkle. I couldn’t make out what was being said but it looked like he was yelling at her. After a few minutes he pointed as if telling her to leave. She spun on her heels and ran off in that direction. Mr. Dinkle rubbed his hands nervously together, made a quick phone call and then walked back into the school.

When the bell sounded for the end of first period I got up brushed the grass from my skirt and headed back inside.

I met the guys for lunch, just as Randi stated earlier we hung out and ate, gossiped until who should walk up? You already know -- Natalie Pelledario. Her make-up was spot on. After Randi left, Natalie took it upon herself to sit down and begin eating Randi’s fries.

“She sure is huffy. Oh well, I’m sure it’s nothing.” She said with a mischievous grin.

“I’m sure.” I said looking straight at her.

“So Kaye,” when she said my name she punched the ‘k’ and elongated the ‘e’. So it came out ‘Kayee’, “what did you get on that last test? I got an 83.”

“94.”

“94? How did you get a 94?”

“Hey, I’m lazy not stupid.”

“Humph, well, did you answer Ms. Loren’s essay?”

“What was it?” Deirdre asked.

I answered, “what happens when an irresistible force meets an immovable object?”

Deirdre cooed, “ooooh, I love that one? It’s a classic paradox.”

I rolled my eyes, “Your such a dork.”

“So what did you say?” Deirdre pressed. She could hardly contain her excitement.

“It was a stupid question,” Natalie continued, “I mean everybody knows an irresistible force can move any object. Am I right?” She looks over at Caren who nods. She’s not even paying attention.

“But,” Deirdre chimed in, “an immovable object cannot be moved.”

“Um, I don’t speak geek.” Natalie said holding her hand in front of Deirdre’s face.

“All I put was that there are no irresistible forces so there can’t be any immovable objects.” I said.

“Really? Mountains are immovable objects.” Natalie interjected.

“Actually that’s not entirely true.” Deirdre said.

Natalie glared at her, “really? When was the last time you moved a mountain?”

Deirdre carefully slipped her hair behind her ear, it was a habit she did when she got nervous. Even though she was so in her element. “You can dynamite mountains, there are volcanic actions and mountains can erode over time. So you see the question really has no answer. We do not live in a universe, which allows irresistible forces and immovable objects.”

“It’s a hypothetical question Natalie.” Caren said. We looked at her, “what? I can do two things at once you know.” She went back to filing her nails.

Deirdre continued, “Natalie, let’s imagine a universe, which allows irresistible forces. Such a universe cannot allow immovable objects, as that would violate the very definition of a hypothetical universe. Now, let's imagine a universe, which allows immovable objects. Again, such a universe cannot allow irresistible forces, as that would violate the very definition of a second hypothetical universe. So, an irresistible force cannot meet an immovable object. In fact, no universe can ever allow both irresistible forces and immovable objects. And, the question has no answer.”

“Well, that’s just stupid.” Natalie got up and left.

“Why does she always think she’s smarter than the rest of us?” Deirdre asked.

“You know what I say you can’t judge a book by its front parts.” Caren said. “I hate it when other pretty girls sit with us.”

Deirdre and I looked at her and shook our heads.

Caren shrugged her shoulders, and went back to filing her nails again.

I was glad school was over for the day. The four of us headed for the parking lot.

“I can’t believe that bitch screwed me!” Randi screamed in anger.

“What are you gonna do now?” Deirdre asked.

“What choice do I have? Either I do it or I don’t go to competition and let Natalie win. And I rather die before I let Nat-

At 3:05 the horn blared indicating a shift change at the chemical plant. Followed by a scream from above, and then -