Paper One | Rough draft

Xavier Talamantes

Jan 30, 2020

RD1

Word Count: 759

Pass the Passes

There is ice on the road this time of the year, and this was the first time she had ever driven such a big vehicle. This was U-Haul, over Mission Pass, Montana. “Where are we going again?” asked the wide-eyed girl in the passenger seat, watching the snowy trees blur by. “We going to visit your Nana in Texas for awhile” she responded.

It’s been so long since I’ve seen her, am I sure I want to do this. Thinking of going back to that tiny blue home–no, just a house–on the corner. Waiting for the man to come home, how many different ways can he make me feel bad? Is moving these kids all the way across the country is hard on their minds? Maybe, but, so is seeing their father hit their mother. I know being away from him is for the best, but I don’t know how I’m going to make it all alone. 2,000 miles, 4 days, and $70 for food. We’re going to have to sleep in the car. A woman and two young children sleeping on the road–Didn’t I read an article about that, only, they all were murdered or trafficked? Maybe if I get some energy drinks, I can drive through the night and sleep a little in the day, that’d be safer maybe.

It’s been about 40 minutes since we’ve left. I’ve already left–started to–I don’t know why I still want to stay. I could just move out, maybe to Missoula. Start taking some classes at the university and be a receptionist somewhere. Shenoah can go to Hellgate when she gets older as I did for 8th grade. No. She’d just turn into me, or Kate. No, it’s this whole reservation. We need to go somewhere far from this cursed place, there is too much sadness. I remember that one time Vinnie and I saw that demon in our house in Elmo. Demons aren’t fast enough to follow this giant, orange truck.

I’m going to miss the mountains and the snow. It’s so beautiful. Texas is what, desert? Why did you move to Texas mom, out of anywhere in America? Texas. Again, 2,000 miles away. Probably to get away from me–Ha. I don’t know why I’m even going. Why she’d even offer actually. Maybe it’s because she’s trying to make up for all the times she abandoned my brother and I.

Looking at Shenoah, and little Xavier. Their both so young and full of love. I hope I’m enough for them. They’re why I’m doing this, for them, for us. In Texas the housing is cheap, and the gas, mom says. There are lots of Christians too, and they’re supposed to be good people. I think this will be good for us.

I wonder if Xavier is hungry, he’s been quiet for the whole trip. He looks like Damien. But he won’t grow up to be like him. How dare Damien even–”Fuck,” she said under her breath as the truck skid horizontally on some ice, “I’m going to kill us” she cursed internally.

Maybe I won’t miss the snow.

We’ve been driving for 3 hours now, almost to Billings, Montana. This is where Damien is from actually. I’m glad this is the last time I’ll ever see this place, driving straight ahead, and I won’t be looking back. Oh, Aide though. Damien’s mom. She’s so sweet, too sweet honestly. I hate the way her children take advantage of her. Both Nina and Damien are such narcissists who never grew up. Why are moms messed up? Damien’s mom was too lenient and spoiled her children, and mine was gone half the time–and the other half she brought the bar back home with her. “I wonder how will they hate me for” as she quickly glanced at her sleeping children, leaned against the center console. I shouldn’t think about my mom like that, at least not now though. She’s giving me a place to stay and it’s going to be hard for us to be in a small place together for an extended time. I need to make this work.

The sun is getting low now, as we pass Taco Bell and Town Pump. We’ve got gas, Shenoah’s got a pop, and Xavier has some apple sauce. She opens her Diet Mountain Dew with teeth as we pull out of the parking lot, “who’s excited!”, Shenoah responds with a dance. Xavier shuffles but remains silent, besides the rhythm of his breath–The quietest baby I have ever met.

You are now leaving Billings, Montana.

[Rough draft–I was writing mine about a time with my mother when I was very young. This one is stylized a bit more like a story with lots of internal dialogs. I’m still working out how to fit in the requirements of the paper–apologies and many thanks]