KarMel Scholarship 2004
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“A Reminiscence” By
Erin Wilhelm, CA Desciption of
Submission: “Fictional
Short Story.” - |
There was one car that was passed down through the four of us brothers. It had an awful smell by the time I got it, something between burned hair and melted crayons. That car and I got into it all the time, though he’d usually end up winning. He won one fight in particular that I’ll never forget. That bastard, I wish I could thank him for putting up such a fight. But, sadly, he’s no longer with us.
We started out our
relationship my senior year of high school.
After spending some time together, I decided I would take it to a more
personal level. One Saturday, I took him
down to
I returned shortly with a single, small black plastic bag.
“Whattcha got there?”
“Oh, shut up. Its nothing, you know.”
But he knew better. After crinkling the black plastic in between my fingers for awhile, I noticed that my meter now read only 12. Suddenly, I was on a deadline; there was a decision to be made. I knew it was going to start a fight, I just knew it, but there was nothing else I could do. So, I slid my hand inside the bag and out it came: a rainbow sticker. Now, the bastard already knew I was gay, he knew most everything about me, so I know he wasn’t surprised. But all of the sudden, he was becoming an accessory to my transformation. My stomach started to hurt and I could feel, even through the air conditioning, how hot it was getting outside. I felt uncomfortable in front of him for the first time ever.
“There’s no way you’re puttin’ that thing on me…no way!”
“Oh, come on, its not that big of a deal, everybody’s wearing them.”
The seat underneath me was getting hotter and I could feel my warm jeans touching my legs. I opened the door and traffic whizzed by me, seemingly out of control. I went around to the back of the car, opened the hatchback and pulled out an old rag. I tried to clean off a spot in the lower middle of the back window. There weren’t many decent places left to put a sticker. There were a few “South West Division Wrestling Champion” stickers already there, each with a year corresponding to a particular brother. The oldest one was a Cure sticker that was cracked and peeling. I thought about taking it off for a moment, but all of the sudden it felt hot as hell outside and I started sweating. I figured getting back in the car would be the best thing. I was incapable of working under that kind of pressure.
I returned, still fingering the sticker. I just didn’t feel as though I could adhere it to such a dirty window with old, ugly, unimportant stickers all around it, stickers that represented nothing that was me, as though that would diminish it’s presence. I thought about driving down to the old car wash. That would make an ideal difference. I thought about how fantastic the rainbow would look on a freshly Windexed window and then how the sudden cleanliness of the car would probably attract my parents’ attention as I parked in front of our house. For the first time that day, I felt panicked about what I was trying to do.
“It’s Saturday, anyway…that place’ll be a mad house! All those BMW’s and Mercedes givin’ me the stink eye…forget it.”
“Yeah, you’re right. That was a dumb idea. What’s the difference, anyway?”
The bastard choked for a moment, then resumed his unsteady idle. The meter now read 6, and I felt claustrophobic.
“You’re runnin’ outta time, ya’ know…why don’t you just give it up, you’re outta change anyway and it’s hot. Besides, we’re already tired, do you really want to deal with this today? Why not wait until the winter…it’s cooler.”
With difficulty, I opened the ashtray but found only a few cigarette butts. I scanned the floors and seats then I opened the glove compartment. There I found one sticky nickel. I gave the meter it’s dessert and got back in the car. I had 16 minutes now, and that would be more than enough time, I was sure.
“Stop trying to talk me out of it, I’ve made up my mind. They’ll be okay with it…it’ll probably just take some time for them to get used to it, is all.”
“First you choose art and drama over wrestling, then you say you’re not going to a university, now this? Sure, it’ll just take some time, is all.”
“You know, you could be more supportive…”
“Hey get used to it, pal. You’re about to lose a whole lotta support. Besides, how do you expect anyone to support you if you can’t even do it yourself, you big scaredy cat?”
That stung…but he was right. This whole plan, which, I had decided, was a disaster to start with, was now blowing up in my face. Here I was, trying to be the person I had been hiding from everyone for so long, this person I was so excited about finally being. But, I was becoming someone I was ashamed of. I had thought about how I would tell my parents thousands of times…
--Hey honey, how
was school?
--Great mom. By the way, I’m gay.
--Gay,
hmmm…really? I never would have
guessed. Well, that’s nice, dear. Go tell your father and let’s get ready for
dinner.
Unfortunately, that reality was someone else’s, if it even existed at all. The fact is, I didn’t know what my parents would say. They rarely showed me instruction or interest concerning my life. I couldn’t recall one conversation I had ever experienced with them that involved a life altering decision. The most concrete communication we ever had was only recently when I told them I was going to community college instead of a big university. And that really wasn’t a conversation, it was more like a formal announcement, and I was sure to walk away from the podium before the audience could boo me.
So, there I sat, 4 minutes left for me to make the most radical decision of my life and the best way I could think to do it was to slap a stupid gay pride flag sticker on my piece of shit car. What the hell was I thinking? My mom would probably come out of the house, see the rainbow on my car and drop dead of a heart attack. Well, at least I wouldn’t be there to see the look on her face.
“That’s it, I’ve had it!”
“Atta boy, just forget about it. They’re better off not knowing. Don’t rock the boat, kid.”
I peeled of one side of the paper backing. The tacky plastic stuck to my fingertips.
“Just toss it and let’s forget this whole thing.”
“Hey I paid six bucks for this things…gimme a sec.”
I wasn’t sure what I was planning on doing with it, but I didn’t want to throw it away. I felt a little betrayed, but I wasn’t sure by who. I tried to re-adhere the backing to the sticker, but the adhesive quality was poor and I couldn’t get it lined up right anyway. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a gleam of light. I looked over and the sun had moved and was shining on the lock piece of the open glove compartment.
“What are ya’ thinkin’? Boy, you cut it out, now.”
“Oh, come on, who’s gonna know, geez.”
I reached over and held the rectangle in front of the brown of the glove compartment insides. There seemed to be the same amount of brown on all four sides of the sticker and the colors looked brighter next to it. I took the other side of the backing off, and cautiously, laying down the left edge first, I slid my finger over the sticker from left to right, being careful not to leave any air bubbles. It was straight, for the most part, and when the sun shone on it, the texture underneath it gave it a water-like quality. I liked it.
“Oh kid, you’ve gotta be kidding me!”
“What’s the big deal? No one will know that it’s there besides you and me.”
“Exactly…so what is the big deal?”
That bastard! I reached over and slammed the glove compartment door shut, but the latch didn’t catch and it just fell open again, bouncing up and down slightly with its left over momentum, taunting me. I tried it again, with more force, but it just swung open again like a big giant mouth, cackling. I grabbed that door in my hand and slammed it repeatedly, again and again until I hurt myself and the whole car began to shake with each repetition. Finally I stopped, out of breath. All of the sudden, I felt guilty and ashamed of my behavior, I was throwing a tantrum like a little child. I also felt bad for the bastard, I mean after all, he taken my all the way up here, and sat with me in the heat and watched me make a jackass out of myself. I tried closing the door one more time, gently and with care. But that was it, the lock was broken and there was nothing I could do about it. The sticker just hung there, staring at me.
“Geez, kid, I think that’s about all I can take.”
“I’m sorry…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”
“I know, I know. But that’s besides the point, now. Whattya gonna do? That compartment hangin’ open there with all that color inside it is as about as obvious as if you were walkin’ around with your fly open all afternoon.”
“You really think it’s that noticeable?”
“As noticeable as an elephant in your livin’ room.”
What could I do? I guess I could have peeled the sticker off and just driven home like none of it had ever happened. That thought passed through my head for a brief second, like the way a bee buzzes by you and you don’t get scared until it’s already flown away. I was tired, and I was hungry and I was indescribably hot. But, I couldn’t do it, it just wasn’t right. Or maybe I was looking for an excuse. Either way, I decided at that moment to be that person I was and always wanted to show off.
“We’re leaving it there and we’re going home, now.”
“Are you crazy? Everyone’s gonna see that thing.”
“Well, then I’ll just have to explain why it’s there, then, won’t I? I’m tired of all this, you know? This is it, I can’t do it anymore. I want to find who I am, and how can I do that if I’m always hiding that person?”
“You know, I didn’t like you much first, but I’m beginin’ to come ‘round on ya’.”
The bastard and I shifted into drive just as the light on my meter turned red. That drive home was long, I remember. There was a parade that day and they had blocked off most of the streets. We had to find a number of detours and by the time we got home, it was already getting dark and my parents weren’t even home.
This change in me
bared little change on my family.
There’s never much said about the whole thing. When I graduated from college and moved to
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