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The Beginnings of Knowing

Joanne Holdrige

There are some things from the past
that stick to you like super tacky glue
or a wad of bubble gum in your hair
you just can’t get out wash off
or unstick from no matter how much
you want to or how hard or far you run
trying to get away

One of mine happened my first year
in high school, I was up in my room
studying for an algebra test
and hiding from my mother
who was having one of her tantrums
down in the kitchen
when suddenly I had trouble breathing
could no longer draw a full breath
my chest hurt, I felt light-headed
and knowing it was a mistake
but not able to think of anything else to do
I crept downstairs and told my mother
something was wrong

She was none too pleased, seemed to think
I was faking just to inconvenience her
or make her look bad, said she couldn’t
understand why I was bothering her with this
why she was always the one
who got stuck with everything
and she thought it was about time
my father had to deal with me
but he wasn’t home, had told her
he was going to the town meeting
which she’d told him was a complete
waste of time, but he’d gone anyway
even though she’d told him not to

So she marched me out to the car
and drove us all around town
in the dark looking for my father
while yelling at me for being
such a rotten kid and because
she was so damn mad at him
by then I was wheezing
working hard for each breath
wishing she’d just drop me at a hospital
where I thought I’d have a better chance
of finding someone less crazy

We don’t find my father
and my breathing gets ragged
and gasping enough so I don’t
think I’m going to make it
and that’s when I see something
taste and hear it in my mother’s voice
the worse I get, the happier she sounds
she’s enjoying my pain
the tears running down my cheeks
struggle to breathe, the tight heaviness
in my chest, all of it is making her
feel better

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