That Slight, Slight Noise (and Those White, White Walls) Ka nelieli, viegli Troksnis (un tiem, White, White Walls)

Published in Written in the Dirt , April 2004 Publicēts Written in Dirt, April 2004
Teen Ink , February 2002 Teen Tinte, februāris 2002

Ring. Gredzenu. Ring. Gredzenu.

I flushed the commode, washed my hands, and dashed into my room to catch my phone on its fourth and last ring. Es jāizskalo kumode, mazgā rokas, un metās manā istabā noķert manu tālruni ceturtā un pēdējā gredzenu.

“Hello?” I answered. "Hallo?" Es atbildēju.

“Hey, Mary, it's Mommy.” "Hei, Mary, tā ir mamma."

“Oh, hey, Mom. "Ak, hey, Mom. How are you?” How are you? "

There was a near inaudible sigh. Bija gandrīz nedzirdama nopūta. “I'm fine. "I'm fine. How are you?” How are you? "

“I'm good. "Es esmu labs. So how's everything going?” Tā kā ir viss iet? "

That slight, slight sigh again. Ka neliels, viegli nopūtās vēlreiz. “Oh, it's okay. "Ak, tas ir labi. I was calling you because I got this email address… You can send me a message, I won't be able to reply, but you can email me and leave me a message telling me to call you or something.” Her words nearly slurred but that transparent thought she might be drinking faded quickly, because I wanted it to. Es jums zvana, jo es dabūju šo e-pasta adresi ... Jūs varat sūtīt man ziņu, es nevarētu atbildēt, bet jūs varat e-pastu man un atstāj man paziņojumu, kurā teikts, lai es jūs aicinu, vai kaut ko. "Viņas vārdi gandrīz neskaidra bet ka pārredzama domāju, ka viņa varētu būt dzeramo izbalējis ātri, jo es gribēju to.

“Oh, okay, cool.” "Nu, labi, atdzesē."

“It's nine oh two. "Tas ir deviņi oh divi. Eight six two-” Astoņi seši divu "

Okay… Oh, so this is like an answering machine?” Labi ... Oh, tāpēc šis ir kā autoatbildētāju? "

“No, you type it in and you can email me.” "Nē, tu tipa to un nosūtiet vēstuli uz adresi man."

“Oh, all right. "Ak, labi. So it's…” Tāpēc ir ... "

“Nine oh two. "Nine oh divi. Eight six two.” Astoņi seši divi. "

“All right.” I jotted the numbers down on one of the pink Post Its that decorated my desk. "Labi." Man jotted noteikto skaitu uz vienu no rozā Post Tās, kas rotā mana rakstāmgalda.

“Six oh, seven five. "Seši oh, septiņi pieci. At teleh dot net.” Pie teleh dot net. "

“Okay, got it.” "Labi, got it."

“If you have time tonight, email me and I'll call you later to tell you if I got the message. "Ja jums ir laiks šovakar, e-pastu man, un es aicinu jūs vēlāk pateiks, ja es saņēmu ziņu. I'm not sure how it's supposed to work.” Es neesmu pārliecināts, kā tas ir paredzēts darbam. "

Sure, I'll email you. Protams, es e-pastu jums. So how are Uncle Paul's kids?” My mom babysat for her brother's two elementary-school children. Tā kā ir Uncle Paul's kids? "Mana mamma babysat par viņas brāli divus pamatskolas vecuma bērniem.

“Oh, they're good.” There was another slight sound in the background, I could hear or maybe imagined her molars grinding or her lips smacking. "Ak, viņi labi." Tur bija vēl viena neliela skaņu fons, es varētu dzirdēt vai varbūt iedomājies viņas molars slīpēšanai vai lūpas čāpstināšanu. “Shelly and Jacob brought home their report cards today.” "Shelly un Jēkabs lika saprast viņu ziņojumu kartes, šodien."

“Oh yeah? "Oh yeah? So how's the weather? Tātad, cik ir laika? Is it cold yet?” Tas ir auksts vēl? "

Those slight, slight, pauses. Šie viegli, viegli, pauzes. “Yeah, well, it was thirty degrees this morning.” "Jā, labi, tas bija trīsdesmit grādiem šorīt."

“Oh, wow.” I said it, knowing I was the patronizing Californian daughter. "Ak, wow." Man teica, ka, zinot, es biju patronizing Kalifornijas meitu. Thirty degrees did sound cold, but so did a lot of things. Trīsdesmit grādu bija skaņa vēsi, bet tā nebija Daudz.

“Did you know Grandma and Grandpa Miller came to visit?” I wanted to suck my words back in as quickly as I said them. "Vai jūs zināt, un vecvecāki Miller ieradās?" Es gribēju sūkāt manus vārdus atpakaļ tik ātri, kā jau teicu tiem. It was hardly a big deal that my dad's parents came to visit us–they did often–but Mom had been wanting to see us lately. Tas bija tikpat liels darījumu, ka mana tēva vecāki atnāca mūs apciemot, viņi bieži, bet māte bija, kas vēlas mūs redzēt pēdējā laikā.

“Oh, yeah, Steve told me. "Ak, jā, Steve man stāstīja. Are they still there?” Vai tie vēl pastāv? "

“No, they left on Tuesday.” "Nē, viņi atstāja otrdien.

“So are you guys still trying to come out during winter break?” "Tātad, jūs puiši joprojām mēģina iznākt ziemas pārtraukums?

“Oh, I think so. "Ak, es nedomāju. We're still trying, but we have to start paying for car insurance soon, or maybe even right now. Mēs joprojām cenšamies, bet mums ir jāsāk maksāt par automašīnas apdrošināšanu drīz, vai varbūt pat labi tagad. And then, I went to go take my license test, but they told me I need driver's training since I'm under eighteen, so now we have to sign up for six hours of classes and it's more than a hundred bucks for each of us.” Un tad es devos iet ņem manu licenci, tests, bet viņi man teica man vajag vadītāja apmācībā, jo es esmu zem astoņpadsmit gadiem, tāpēc tagad mums ir piereģistrēties sešas stundas klasēs, un tas ir vairāk nekā simts dolāriem par katru no mums . "

“Yeah.” I heard what annoyed me, but what I liked to pay attention to: those slight, slight personal noises. "Jā." Dzirdēju, kas kaitina mani, bet to, kas man patika pievērst uzmanību: tie mazliet, mazliet personas trokšņiem. “Well, I'd really like to see you guys.” "Nu, es tiešām vēlētos redzēt jūs puiši."

“Yeah, me, too. "Jā, me, too. I'd really like to go down there soon.” Man tiešām patīk iet uz leju tur drīz. "

“I'd like to go visit you guys in California.” "Es gribētu iet apmeklēt you guys in California."

“Yeah,” I said, almost uncomfortable. "Jā," es teicu, gandrīz neērti. There was what was best for everyone, and then there was what meant a couple of weeks of smiles between welcoming and departing tears. Bija, kas bija labākais par visiem, un tad tur bija to, kas nozīmēja, ka nedēļas pasmaida pāris starp uzņemšanu un atstāj asaras.

“Oh, yeah, I wanted to tell you guys… With my disability, you should be able to apply for more grants. "Ak, jā, es gribēju pateikt you guys ... Ar savu invaliditātes, Jums ir iespēja pieteikties uz vairāk dotācijām. I was trying to work it out for Steven, but with you it'd be easier, just to list me as your parent. Es centos strādāt to pārbaudītu Steven, bet jūs to vēlaties būtu vieglāk, tikai uz sarakstu mani kā savu vecāku. Because with Dad's and Christine's salary-” Jo ar Dad's un Christine algu-"

“It's too much for scholarships!” I laughed, and wondered if I should wish to suck back in my comment and laughter, too. "Tas ir pārāk daudz stipendiju!" Es smējos, un radās jautājums, ja es vēlos sūkāt atpakaļ manu komentāru, un smiekli, too.

“Yeah. "Jā. Cause I'm not getting anything. Izraisīt Es nesaņemu neko. Someone should get something outta my disability.” Kādam vajadzētu saņemt kaut outta my invaliditātes. "

I giggled again, pretending her comment was a light joke. Es giggled atkal, izliekoties, viņas komentārs bija gaismas joks. My laughter covered those slight noises. Mani smiekli uz kuriem šie nelieli trokšņi.

So anyways, could you remind Daddy to get my Section Eight application? So anyways, vai jūs varētu atgādināt Daddy, lai saņemtu manu Section Eight pieteikumu? I left him a message but…” Es atstāju viņam ziņu, bet ... "

“Yeah, sure.” "Jā, protams."

“You know what, maybe you could get it. "Zini ko, varbūt jūs varētu iegūt. Just call up the welfare office and ask for housing authority.” Tikai izsaukt labklājības birojā un lūgt mājokļu iestādei. "

I scribbled on a pink Post It as my eyes let me know they'd enjoy tears spilling out. Es ierakstījis par rozā Post Tā kā manas acis let me know viņi vēlētos saņemt asaras izliešanu out. “Okay,” I said, thinking I controlled my voice. "Labi," es teicu, domāju esmu nodrošinājis manu balsi.

“All right, honey.” She yawned in the background. "Visi tiesības, medus." Viņa nožāvājās in background. “I'm going to let you go now; I need to get to bed.” "Es esmu, kas jums iet tagad, man ir nepieciešams nokļūt gultas."

“Yeah, it's late over there, huh?” I tried to steady my wobbling voice as shady, transparent thoughts of my mother's, not just lost potential, but wasted and solid talent was made apparent through this phone call. "Jā, tas vēlu tur, vai ne?" Es centos stabilā manu wobbling balsi kā ēnas, pārredzama domas par manu māti, ne tikai zaudēja potenciāls, bet veltīgi un cieto talants bija pierādījusi, izmantojot šo tālruņa zvanu.

“Yeah. "Jā. I need to wake up at six.” Man vajag pamosties pēc sešiem mēnešiem. "

“Well, all right, Mommy.” "Nu, labi, mamma."

“Good night, honey. "Ar labu nakti, medus. I love you.” I love you. "

“I love you, too. "I love you, too. Good night! Ar labunakti! Take care.” Rūpēties ".

“All right.” "Labi".

I hung up and went back to the bathroom, to continue my shower. I hung up un devos atpakaļ uz vannas istabu, turpināt manu duša. I looked in the mirror as my face began to scrunch, trying to squeeze out the tears. Es paskatījos ar spoguli kā manu seju sāka scrunch, cenšoties izspiest asaras. Ridiculous black tears trickled down my cheeks. Smieklīgs melnās asaras trickled nosaka manu vaigu. Earlier that night I had reveled in perfecting my Halloween make up. Agrāk man bija reveled ka nakti jāslēdz mans Halloween uzpilda.

I hopped in the shower and sobbed, hardly weeping though. Es hopped ar dušu un šņukstēja, diez raudošs though. My face continued to scrunch, in sobs and in laughter as I thought cynically about my little moment. Manas sejas turpināja scrunch, kas sobs un smiekli kā es domāju, ciniski par manu maz momentu. I thanked God for Him being in my life; I would have thanked Him for guiding me had my thoughts not been floating around, bumping into each other. Es pateicos Dievam par Viņa ir manā dzīvē, es būtu pateicos Viņam vadīt man bija manas domas nav peldošā ap mutuļošana viens otram. My pitiful mother, my pitiful mother, it's so sad all that could have been of her life, but I know plenty of other people with such wasted potential, but this is my mother, but you're a lucky girl if your largest problem is feeling sad about your mother, yes, lucky, thank you Lord, I know so many people have it worse than me, but stop crying, oh, now you're laughing, yes? Mana žēls māte, mana žēls māti, tas ir tik skumji, visu, ko varēja savu dzīvi, bet es zinu daudz citus cilvēkus ar šādiem izšķiests potenciāls, bet šī ir mana māte, bet tu esi laimīgs meitene, ja jūsu lielākā problēma ir sajūta bēdīgs par savu māti, jā, paveicās, paldies Kungs, es zinu tik daudz cilvēku ir sliktāk nekā man, bet pieturas raudāšana, Ak, tagad tu, smejoties, jā?

My face convulsed more as I realized how uncommitted I was to this moment, this being one of the very few times I cried and wanted to let “it” all out. Manas sejas convulsed vairāk kā es sapratu, cik nesaistītos man bija tas brīdis, šis bija viens no ļoti nedaudziem reizes es raudāju un vēlējās, lai ļautu "IT" Visas out. But let what all out, my mind demanded. Bet to visu ārā, manuprāt pieprasīti. Where is this crying getting you? Kur tas ir raudāšana kļūst you? How is this not just a big distraction (oh, the evils of the word!) from all the things you'd like to accomplish? Kā tas ir ne tikai lielu uzmanību (oh, un vārds ļaunumiem!) No visām lietām, ko vēlaties paveikt?

I knew I'd write this all down, and I laughed, but what might have been audible was drowned by the shower. Es zināju, ka man, lūdzu rakstīt šo visu uz leju, un es smējos, bet kāds varētu būt dzirdams bija noslīcis ar dušu. I bet you're just clinging to this moment because you just want something to write about, my mind insisted. I bet jūs tikai clinging uz šo brīdi, jo jūs vienkārši vēlaties kaut ko rakstīt par, manuprāt teica. I laughed and sobbed again. Es smējos un šņukstēja vēlreiz.

I got out of the shower and brushed my teeth. Man no dušas un matēta mani zobi. I smudged the mist on the mirror so I could see my face. Es notraipīts migla par spoguli, lai es varētu redzēt manu seju. I was always interested in how my face looked before, during, and after a good cry. Man vienmēr interesē manas sejas izskatījās pirms, tā laikā un pēc labas raudāt. I liked my wrinkled brow and ruddy complexion against the white, white bathroom walls. Man patika mans krunkainu pieri un sārts sejas pret baltas balts vannas istabas sienām.

I went into my room and saw my computer waiting for me, waiting for me to process my little conversation-turned-moment into neat, black words. Iegāju savā istabā un pamanīja manu datoru mani gaidīja, gaidīja mani, lai apstrādātu manu maz saruna pagriezies, kad stājas veikls, melna vārdiem.

Oh, but my curling hair can't wait. Ak, bet mans matu matus nevar gaidīt. Before I blow dried it quickly, I tried to reflect more on my mom's misfortune, but I'd already mentally and emtionally filed that experience under “Not-Really-A-Big-Deal.” I was disappointed in, but proud of, myself. Pirms es trieciens žāvēti ātri, es centos atspoguļot vairāk par mana mamma ir nelaime, bet es jau garīgi un emtionally iesniegts, ka pieredze ar "ne-Tiešām,-Big-Deal." Man bija vīlusies, bet lepojas, pats. My, what large emotional defenses you have, I thought. My, kas lielu emocionālu aizsardzību pret jums, es domāju. I grinned at my still wrinkled brow and still pink face. Es smīnēja par mani vēl krunkainu pieri un vēl rozā sejas. It contrasted nicely with the beige, beige walls of my bedroom. Tas labi kontrastēja ar smilškrāsas, smilškrāsas sienas manā guļamistabā.