Bastard Out of Carolina, Chapter 5

Yuck. My mom has been married three times now, and I don't blame her or think it is bad, but I've grown up with a daddy "issue." By the age of eight I began to detach myself from paternal figures because as far as I was concerned, they weren't my daddy, and even he was not permanent. I started loathing men, actually, except for my uncles and grandpa. However, I was jealous when my friends loved all over their daddies. I wanted that, but was unwilling to force a bond that I felt could be broken over a single argument. Also, I developed a sixth sense for men and their true intentions. My momma grew up in the "ideal" 1980s family: 5 kids, three girls, two boys, all popular and well dressed, all drove nice cars and went to Southside High School. Nobody ever suffered from a want of anything. It wasn't until all the children were out of the house that my grandparents separated, but that's a different blog post. My point is that my mom didn't need to have a daddy for me because she was essentially my mother and father all wrapped into one, but she felt guilty that I didn't have the "regular" experience and wanted for me to have a daddy I could call my own. The man I call "dad" today didn't come into my life until I was a teenager, but that's okay! You cannot plan love.

I remember feeling like Bone, not being able to naturally call Jack my "daddy" without feeling awkward and like I was giving in to being inferior to him. Actually, although I loved him dearly I was happy the day my mother left except for the fact that we had to move out of our brand new house and move into an old rent house. As a kid I missed my house more than I missed him. He wasn't a dad to me, but a competitor like Daddy Glen but on a much more innocent scale...or so I think...to be quite honest I blocked many things out because they were too painful to think about, but one thing is for certain and it is that he and I were like tectonic plates bumping and scratching each other all the time. Then he would attempt to turn me against my mother. For a while it worked because I liked being hugged and defended when she was legitimately mad about something I had done wrong. In addition, he and I were physically closer than we should have been, but I didn't know what to say or how to say it. Moreover, I loved the presents he would buy me after we fought. My mom made a point not to spoil me as a child, and he did it with dangerous consequences.

So there we were...mom and I at Wal-Mart...the new card machine for Father's Day that would let you watch while it printed a card with a Rugrat on it. This was before personal printers were popular so I was very excited. Yuck, she encouraged me to write "I'm ready to call you Dad" on it...and I did because she was pressuring me, trying to force our family trio...and I hated glorifying him by calling him "Dad." I knew he was not the fatherly figure he was supposed to be- my grandfather hated him as well as my uncles, and I loved them, but he tore me back to him.

"shiny as mica on in sunlight"...I just like this because it has my name in it. My real father, when he talked to my mother after I was born, jokingly asked why she had named me after a rock.

Bone confuses sex for love. She also hates moving from house to house. Ringworm is mentioned on page 65, but everyone knows it is only a mark of filthy quarters, and not something that challenges human life.

"In one year I went from compliant and quiet to loud and insistent....wished we could complain for not reason but the pleasure of bitching." Word!

"ANGER hit me like a baseball coming hard and fast off a new bat." Did I write this book?

Bone starts lying. I did too. When I went to a new school I took pleasure in convincing all the kids that I was a supermodel that modeled in Limited Too Magazines and they absolutely bought it. "Suckers," I thought. I remember feeling intelligent, like a politician or CIA agent or car saleswoman that could lie through my teeth. Rather than feeling embarrassed about the truth coming out, I had the best day ever at school! This was right after my mom left Jack, and I was to transfer to my little cousin's school, my little cousin who is more or less my sister. She was in the third grade and before I went to school for the first day, I sent her with photocopies of a collage of supermodel body parts that we had put together. The cutest boy in the fifth grade messaged me on AOL and was excited that I was coming to his school. Their faces were priceless when I walked in on the first day, the furthest thing from magazine beauty! Somehow I made friends? And a LOT of them!

Daddy Glen tells Anney to "shut up." I hate these words more than any other in the English language.