CRICKET, Part 7

(photo by Tracy Hicks)

Pimp My Lent/Days 25 & 26

The Prompt:

Another double-header: combining today’s and tomorrow’s prompts.

Pimptress Gretchen Smith sends a single word:  “MENDACITY”

Pimptress Jen Pasion offers a favorite Edward Gorey cartoon:

The Product:

A series of emails from Emily (Cricket’s mom) to her sister Ginnie…


August 2nd – 10:13 p.m.

HIGH PRIORITY

G  CALL ASAP!! Em

August 2nd – 10:38 p.m.

HIGH PRIORITY

G!  PLS CALL ASAP  Texted u 10x! Your vmail’s not working – call cell — NOT HOME – ASAP! Em

August 2nd – 10:50 p.m.

HIGH PRIORITY

PLS, PLS CALL!

August 2nd – 11:30 p.m.

HIGH PRIORITY

G- — 911  CALL ME NOW

August 3rd – 12:10 a.m.

HIGH PRIORITY/CONFIDENTIAL

READ AND DELETE! I am going nuts. I am losing my mind. I have been driving around over 2 hours. I can’t go inside, and you’re not picking up and your voicemail’s not working. PLEASE DELETE AFTER YOU READ – PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE

I snuck into our room in the guest house and snuck back out with the laptop so that I could sit in the car under the carport and write this email and hope like hell the MPs don’t drive by and ask what the hell am I doing.

I am in deep, deep shit. GINNIE!! I am in such deep shit. I am freaking out because I am –

August 3rd – 12:25 a.m.

HIGH PRIORITY/CONFIDENTIAL

hit send too soon – hard to see keys in the dark – no sss

August 3rd – 1:11 a.m.

HIGH PRIORITY/CONFIDENTIAL

Starting over again.

I snuck back into the house again and took one of Ben’s Xanax and am back in the car with the laptop.

I have been drinking to too. I am sorry for the tons of messages on your vmail.  I am calmer but it’s still a 911 sitch so if you get this PLEASE CALL

Ben told me today that he’s out. Like OUT, out. I told him to wait and see how he feels later because it’s not like he could go back to duty tomorrow or even in six months but he says NO, no matter what he’s not going to re-up. WHAT THE HELL ARE WE GOING TO DO?! He joined up because he couldn’t figure out what else to do –  And so now he’s going to do what? HE DOESN’T KNOW! HE DOESN’T CARE! He’s just “not going back.”

I have no right, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know I know I know

Ginnie, I didn’t finish college and he didn’t even go to college! I make all of $11.50/hr working p/t – we have FOUR KIDS. We have no insurance! Never have and they won’t take us on b/c of all Douglas’ issues! Cricket’s teeth are AWFUL – she needs braces. I can’t make her go through adolescence with a mouth full of crooked teeth! Where are we going to live?? We can’t live w/Quinette forever. And I love his parents SO much and I know they would die before they saw us on the streets — but I can’t live out there in the sticks 24/7, the schools are TERRIBLE and there’s no way I can home school my kids. I CAN’T DO IT. I will lose what’s left of my mind I know it.

And I kissed a guy. Tonight I kissed a guy tonight. I kissed a man on the dance floor at the O club, kissed him, in front of Ben.

Ben drove home not a word – he went inside and I stayed out here. I CAN’T GO IN THERE.

I was so mad at him, I’m SO MAD AT HIM, all the time. I was drunk tonight — no excuse, I know, I know, I know, I just feel like I am really about to lose my shit here.

This guy was at our table, a bunch of guys and some wives were there, and I

Okay, I know he doesn’t feel good, I know he’s in pain but I wasn’t asking him to jump up and Charleston, I just WANTED TO DANCE. WITH MY HUSBAND. The major and his wife were with us, the guy Ben’s been in rehab with, they’re great people. and they have so much fun, even with him being injured, he’s got such a great attitude about it all. They’re dancing all night, him and his wife, and then she goes to the loo and he asks Ben if he can dance with me and Ben shrugs. He was so pissed that Id made him go. I was just so sick of nothing but rehab to home, home to rehab to home to rehab to home.

I just wanted to DANCE.

Ben’s PT says he doesn’t make progress b/c he won’t participate in his therapy. I know she’s not lying b/c he won’t do his exercises, no matter what I say/do.

He’s depressed about his face, the scars and the skin graph/ear thing. He’s not interested in sex at all and yes is BEN we’re talking about!

We were dancing to some stupid pop song. Not touching. Then the song changes and it’s a waltz. I look at Ben – still sitting out there with nothing going on – NOTHING – and so I stay on the dance floor with the major. Ben’s  inert, he hardly spoke  all night long. The major’s spinning me, and I’m drunk and dizzy. We stop and we’re laughing and I see Ben’s watching and so I grabbed the major, kissed him full on the mouth, with tongue, my hands in his hair.

He kissed me back. Oh my god, Ginnie. It was like the breath of life. It was the breath of life. I have been so dead, going, going, going, doing, doing, doing, being brave, I’m the rock, right? The rock. For however long it went on, being kissed —  Like I’d stepped back into the world for however long it went on. I am such an ASSHOLE.

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE DELETE THIS AFTER YOU READ IT.

The song was done, and we got off the dance floor and then Ben and I left. He drove us back to the guest house. He’s not supposed to be driving, but I’d had three margaritas. You know I’ve never had three cocktails in one evening in my LIFE. Now we know why, RIGHT?

I used it, I know I did. I used it to get hold of something I am dying for.

I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know if my marriage is over. I can’t go in there. Ben doesn’t sleep – he eats pills and watches tv. I can’t stand it anymore.

OH SHIT. HE’S HERE. I just looked up he’s standing in front of the car naked and standing in front of the car looking at me and he’s naked.

shit MPs!!

HE’S RUNNING – OH s

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About Vicki Caroline Cheatwood

Writerly. Rebooting. Evolving. Searching for great chicken salad.
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