Talore’s Blog

I honor her
I pick up her little black book from beyond the grave.

I looked at my tombstone, I looked at my grave.
I wore princess Diana’s revenge dress, complete with pearls adorning my neck and a black hat with a beaded veil.

My lips were painted red.
I listen to echoes no one else can hear.
I was gone for a long time,
But only a few seconds here.

I came into the world screaming and when I saw my reflection in the mirror, I started screaming again.

“You were found lifeless and unmoving,” my dad told me. We were on our way home from what was supposed to be a party somewhere in nowhere Oklahoma. I was five and it was the ‘90s. I wore pink jelly shoes that didn’t match the red shorts and blue t-shirt I was going home in. I couldn’t remember that I had been wearing a pink dress when I left my mom at home to go with my dad and little brother for the day.

All I knew was that I was in boys’ clothes, my shoes didn’t match and my hair wasn’t combed.

“It got wet,” my dad told me.

But I couldn’t remember being put in the tub.

I stared out the window with my chin in my hand. Raindrops rolled down the window as my dad drove down the highway. In my mind, God was crying for me.

It’s complicated to explain when one of your triggers is the rain. Personally, I love the rain. It smells good and feels good but it also makes me melancholy some days.

“You’ll learn to dread the rain,” my dad said.

I’ll have to talk about the rain another day, but yesterday my mom and I saw a rainbow while driving. It was saturated in color and stretched across the sky.

“I count at least six colors,” mama said and then she named them. “Purple, blue, green, pink, orange, yellow….”

I almost called her out for saying she saw pink in the rainbow and not red but I let it go, thinking, ‘if she sees pink then she sees pink.’

As we drove a little further, I noticed the rainbow had split in two.

“Look mama, there’s a double rainbow!” I said, pointing.

“That’s a good sign,” mama said.

This morning, mama brought up the day my dad brought me home in boys’ clothes.

“I should have done more digging,” she said, I could see the sincerity in her eyes. “You didn’t piss yourself! You never peed on yourself. I knew that was a lie.”

“It’s ok, mama,” I said once again. “He knew you were trusting and naive and he took advantage of that.”

It’s the shared memory we have that something definitely happened 30 something years ago that strengthens my conviction to this day.

But mama continues, “I knew something was wrong when you came in wearing a blue shirt and red shorts with your pink shoes.”

This memory is my anchor. The indication that everything wasn’t what it seemed.

That day my dad lied to my mom about what happened in that house on Admire and when she asked me if I had peed myself, I nodded.

Dazed, numb and tired I conceded my hope because I simply could not remember the truth, therefore, confirming my dads’ lie in front of my mom and her company. She had a friend come and visit her that day which is why she had stayed home.

Before leaving, mama had dressed me in pink with ruffles to go with my pink jelly shoes and she had combed my hair into ponytails. She also made sure to dress my little brother well too. We were going to meet my dad’s family in the city. There was a party.

I remember a few things about the ride there. Bits of conversation, an offer of protection and a gun, but mostly I remember the sun was shining and I was daydreaming about meeting my cousins.

I guess the last thing I remember before dying that day was the yellow and black Batman sticker on the wall over the bed while being suffocated in that room at the top of the stairs.

‘My daddy’s not coming,’ I thought and then everything went black.

In my vision I wear a white robe while smoking a cigarette. My robe is covered in grit like I’d been through some shit and the bottom is torn but it’s not a statement of fashion. Exhausted, my head hangs low but hey, we made it.