The first sleep-over I attended was at her house.
“Me neither" she said.
She was a liar.
She was scared of the sun sinking into the earth and the dark bullying us .
Scared I could see into her perfect life.
Scared I wouldn’t.
I could and I didn’t. I was a liar, as well.
I was scared.
When we were twelve I told her about the last time I had been afraid of the dark. I didn't go into the quiet visits my Uncle Moe kept in the shadows. I just told her to stay away from him. To keep her little sister Rose away. She said she would but she again she lied.
My uncle Moe was my neighbor and Mal kept falling in his path, quietly daring him to try something. He did nothing. Still she came over one day yelling,
"We beat the living shit out of him! He won't touch you anymore. Not with me alive, he won't! We killed him! Me and you!"
"Liar" I said quietly.
She didn't respond instead changed the subject she said something about running away to meet some star of some t.v. show.
At dinner the next night my father said a prayer for his bestfriend, Moe. He was heartbroken that his great friend, a person as gentle and kind as the day is long would be hurt so senselessly hurt by a bunch of hoodlums.
It was one of her half-truths. Everything that she was, was a mixture of fantasy and reality.
We hadn't killed him but he didn't bother me again.
At eighteen I moved to San Diego. Mal and her family had moved to Yuma the year before. I didn't know very many people and would spend most weekends driving the 3 hours to visit my aunt and hang out with Mal for the weekend.
Something changed in me and something had changed in her. We were different.
Her eyes seemed to shoot around the room in anticipation of something that never seemed to come. She laughed too long and screamed too loud. She was always too much and never really made sense.
She had grown into woman so striking. She was limitless with a soul that couldn't be trapped in flesh and limited in her control over her predicament. She was beautiful. I wish I could say this was both internally as well as externally but I can't because I didn't know her anymore. Mostly, I thought she was selfish, excessive and boring. This was as far as she let me know.
I liked her enough. Just not enough to ask,
I liked her enough. Just not enough to ask,
"What the fuck, is going on with you Mal?"
"Are you okay, Mal?"
Not enough touch base outside of holidays and mandatory family gatherings.
And so, we lost touch, except here and there.
Once a reality show was on television and there she was. I rememember the guy saying,
"Mallorine has great tits but she is dum as door nails!"
My defensive reaction provided me with of a memory of when we were fifteen and Mal told me Camus made her still. That sentence came like the eye of the storm. A random thought somewhere between what color she should dye her hair and whether she should marry a black man or a white man.
I didn't pay much attention until years later when I finally understood what she meant.
After seeing her on the show. I called my older sister, Rene.
Rene is Mal's blood sister adopted out by my aunt to her older sister, my mother. Rene had not told Mal yet and it was one of my aunt's well kept secrets.
Rene is Mal's blood sister adopted out by my aunt to her older sister, my mother. Rene had not told Mal yet and it was one of my aunt's well kept secrets.
"I just saw Mal on TV giving some dude a lap dance! Ha! She's fucking crazy." I started.
In one breath, Rene responded "That was awhile ago! I guess Aunt Chris went to Vegas and brought Mal home. She'd been stripping and got into some stuff. Ended up homeless and when she found her she was covered in body lice."
I knew right then that Mal wasn't trying to play some drowning Ophelia. She wasn't tragedies muse. She was a tragedy
"What?" I asked.
"Her hair was bleached and burnt to the scalp and she's half gone." Rene said.
I knew right then that Mal wasn't trying to play some drowning Ophelia. She wasn't tragedies muse. She was a tragedy
"What?" I asked.
"Her hair was bleached and burnt to the scalp and she's half gone." Rene said.
She was always half gone. When we were nine I told her my bestfriends brother had smoked grass. She told me that she did as well.
"You do not" I said.
"Kiki, I have smoked grass my entire life" She said, with her eyes closed as if she were envoking the spirit Janis Joplin.
She quickly ran inside and came out with her father's tabacco papers. She pulled some grass off of the ground and put some in the paper. She rubbed her hands together like she was trying to start a fire. She was always trying to start a fire. When she pulled a box of matches out and lit her "joint" I begged her to stop.
"It's going to make you sick Mal, STOP!"
She laughed and asked if I wanted some. She started running around a tree with her arms spread like wings. Chanting, "a girl with one ear smoking grass, grass, grass!" She was in one of her moods and she needed me to believe her. I knew this because she offered me a small glimpse to one of her rare truths. The night we met, many years ago she had somehow lost hearing in her right ear.
I didn't know what "grass" was. I only knew that my bestfriends brother was pushed against the wall when and accused of "smoking grass" right before his dad told him to get out for good.
That was enough to scare me.
Mal was always half-gone but hearing that her hair which had never been shorter than her waist was chopped to the scalp had me worried that she may be completely gone.
The next day, I called me aunt.
"You know Mal. She met a bad boy but she's better now. She loves to cause a scene. She just needs the attention" My aunt explained.
"May I speak with her?" I asked.
"Oh honey, she's at work." She replied.
My Aunt Chris had built a life on lies. She had ran away from home at fourteen and got a job in a brothel. She had two children by the time she was nineteen and actually tried to sell them. My mother and her older brother were able to intervene and took custody of Joel and my older sister Rene. They brought my aunt home and she began to clean up her act but she was already pregnant with Mal. When my Uncle Tim met Aunt Chris she was a completely different person than a few years prior. They met in church. She was a young, charming single mother who doted on Mal the way he had never seen his mother do but always wished she had. He fell in love with her, married her and adopted Mal. She never told him about her other children or her history. She seperated herself from who she was and grew gentler, kinder and more secretive everyday. She and my uncle had three more children. Good children. Warm children. Sane Children. And Mal.
Mal had heard some of these same stories as well. She'd have explosive bouts with her mother. Craving a truth to start from. My aunt had the most pleasant way of evading timelines and hear-say. Shutting doors and tight smiles became weapons against Mal's sanity. My aunt was too worried about the heavy tapestry she had sewn together coming apart at its seams that she couldn't see Mal was coming apart. Or maybe she decided not to.
When Mal took off to Vegas, my aunt told everyone she had fallen head over heels with someone and they had moved to Vegas. It never made sense to me. Mal always seemed to selfish for selfless love. I always thought when Mal left it was to completely loose a life born from the womb of lies. A grand "fuck you" to my aunt.
Even though I had known all of this history, even though I knew how easy it was for her to rewrite the story and even though I needed to speak to Mal, I hung up needing to believe that Mal was at work. That she was still capable of keeping a job. It was a sort of counterfeit currency I paid in order to get through to the meaningless things I ended up tending to instead of my wild-spirited, colorful and crumbling, beautiful cousin Mal.
A week later she passed away. My aunt had called my sister. Who flew out from Hawaii to San Diego and we drove to Yuma. My sister told me how Mal, her sister, had called her about a week ago. Rene had just put the baby down and was about to fall asleep when Mal called. She said Mal didn't sound too different. The random lines about men and complaints about her lying mother and how she couldn't sleep because she could hear them talking.
My sister stayed quiet for a little while before continuing,
"Aunt Chris went to wake her up so she could get to some sort of welfare appointment. She said she knocked but that Mal had the television volume all the way up. Aunt Chris said Mal had pulled her ear so hard blood covered the pillow and when she went to wake her she had noticed she taken her entire bottle of Clozapine. Aunt Chris said Mal's body had already gone hard but that she put her angel, her saving grace in her lap like she used to do when Mal was little and rocked her for two hours until Uncle Tim came home and called 911."
When we got to my aunt house for the wake. In the group of some family and strangers I saw my aunts tear soaked face. In front of them a large picture of Mal. My aunt got up to greet my sister and I.
"Hi Rene. Hi Kiki" She said with a half breath.
I gave her a tight hug. Measuring heavy weight of her small bones I held her while her tears wet my shoulder.
"Kiki, honey" Don't tell your Uncle about Joel and Rene okay? He doesnt know yet. Okay?"
And like always, I didn't.
"It's going to make you sick Mal, STOP!"
She laughed and asked if I wanted some. She started running around a tree with her arms spread like wings. Chanting, "a girl with one ear smoking grass, grass, grass!" She was in one of her moods and she needed me to believe her. I knew this because she offered me a small glimpse to one of her rare truths. The night we met, many years ago she had somehow lost hearing in her right ear.
I didn't know what "grass" was. I only knew that my bestfriends brother was pushed against the wall when and accused of "smoking grass" right before his dad told him to get out for good.
That was enough to scare me.
Mal was always half-gone but hearing that her hair which had never been shorter than her waist was chopped to the scalp had me worried that she may be completely gone.
The next day, I called me aunt.
"You know Mal. She met a bad boy but she's better now. She loves to cause a scene. She just needs the attention" My aunt explained.
"May I speak with her?" I asked.
"Oh honey, she's at work." She replied.
My Aunt Chris had built a life on lies. She had ran away from home at fourteen and got a job in a brothel. She had two children by the time she was nineteen and actually tried to sell them. My mother and her older brother were able to intervene and took custody of Joel and my older sister Rene. They brought my aunt home and she began to clean up her act but she was already pregnant with Mal. When my Uncle Tim met Aunt Chris she was a completely different person than a few years prior. They met in church. She was a young, charming single mother who doted on Mal the way he had never seen his mother do but always wished she had. He fell in love with her, married her and adopted Mal. She never told him about her other children or her history. She seperated herself from who she was and grew gentler, kinder and more secretive everyday. She and my uncle had three more children. Good children. Warm children. Sane Children. And Mal.
Mal had heard some of these same stories as well. She'd have explosive bouts with her mother. Craving a truth to start from. My aunt had the most pleasant way of evading timelines and hear-say. Shutting doors and tight smiles became weapons against Mal's sanity. My aunt was too worried about the heavy tapestry she had sewn together coming apart at its seams that she couldn't see Mal was coming apart. Or maybe she decided not to.
When Mal took off to Vegas, my aunt told everyone she had fallen head over heels with someone and they had moved to Vegas. It never made sense to me. Mal always seemed to selfish for selfless love. I always thought when Mal left it was to completely loose a life born from the womb of lies. A grand "fuck you" to my aunt.
Even though I had known all of this history, even though I knew how easy it was for her to rewrite the story and even though I needed to speak to Mal, I hung up needing to believe that Mal was at work. That she was still capable of keeping a job. It was a sort of counterfeit currency I paid in order to get through to the meaningless things I ended up tending to instead of my wild-spirited, colorful and crumbling, beautiful cousin Mal.
A week later she passed away. My aunt had called my sister. Who flew out from Hawaii to San Diego and we drove to Yuma. My sister told me how Mal, her sister, had called her about a week ago. Rene had just put the baby down and was about to fall asleep when Mal called. She said Mal didn't sound too different. The random lines about men and complaints about her lying mother and how she couldn't sleep because she could hear them talking.
My sister stayed quiet for a little while before continuing,
"Aunt Chris went to wake her up so she could get to some sort of welfare appointment. She said she knocked but that Mal had the television volume all the way up. Aunt Chris said Mal had pulled her ear so hard blood covered the pillow and when she went to wake her she had noticed she taken her entire bottle of Clozapine. Aunt Chris said Mal's body had already gone hard but that she put her angel, her saving grace in her lap like she used to do when Mal was little and rocked her for two hours until Uncle Tim came home and called 911."
When we got to my aunt house for the wake. In the group of some family and strangers I saw my aunts tear soaked face. In front of them a large picture of Mal. My aunt got up to greet my sister and I.
"Hi Rene. Hi Kiki" She said with a half breath.
I gave her a tight hug. Measuring heavy weight of her small bones I held her while her tears wet my shoulder.
"Kiki, honey" Don't tell your Uncle about Joel and Rene okay? He doesnt know yet. Okay?"
And like always, I didn't.
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