Open Writing

I doubt that our parents understood the extent of the anguish and despair their drinking caused us through the years. We did very few things as a family and weekends were usually spent with my folks, and sometimes their friends, drinking. Instead of spending money on something the family could enjoy, they spent what little they had on drinking.

When we were younger we had spent many hours sitting in the car outside of bars waiting for them. We kept each other company, ate junk food, drank sodas, and sometimes wrapped ourselves in coats and napped. The need to use the restroom was an excuse to go inside and ask them if they were about ready to go home. The answer was usually, "Yeah, in a little bit. Go back out. We'll be there in a while." The times we didn't go with them we spent the hours at home lonely and anxious for their return.
Inviting friends to our house was out of the question because we were ashamed of their excessive drinking and we never knew what mood our parents would come home in.

One of the less boring times we spent waiting for our folks was when I was about eleven, Phyllis five, and Reita four. We went to Ruidosa to watch Murrel play fiddle in a band at a nightclub. We arrived early in the day and spent the better part of it at a small bar on the outskirts of town. In searching for the restroom, we discovered an empty dance hall in back of the bar, and with permission from the bartender, we wore ourselves out playing and dancing to the music of the jukebox.

We became very creative dancers. Phyllis and Reita danced together, whirling and twirling and I danced by myself, two-stepping and waltzing with an invisible partner. We would run and slide across the floor giggling and singing to the music on the jukebox until Reita fell and skinned her knee, which I cleaned with bathroom tap water, and then applied a glob of wet toilet paper. Phyllis tore her dress when she stepped on the hem while doing a summersault, so we went to Mama and got safety pins from her purse to make temporary repairs. Periodically we went into the bar to get sodas, peanuts and Fritos. Naturally the junk food and carbonated drinks didn't mix well with flips and jostling; Reita barely made it into the bathroom to upchuck. With Reita out of commission we went to the car and fell asleep in the back seat and waited for our folks.

When it neared the time to go watch sixteen'year-old Murrel play in the band we went to the house where he was staying with the other band members. There we cleaned up a bit before going to the nightclub. We sat at the table near the bandstand and all loved the music. This treat made up for having to wait the long hours in the car.