That makes me giggle. “A vampire?
Don’t you mean a ghost?” I must look
as pallid-faced as I feel. “Anyway, no.
I didn’t see either. It’s just . . .” Go on.
Reach deep for the courage you need.
“I think it’s time for me to tell you
some stuff. First of all, my name
isn’t Ruthie. It’s Eden. Eden Ruth Streit,
and my parents aren’t dead (at least,
I don’t think so), and I’m from Boise. . . .”
Ice Broken
It all comes gushing out,
as if a dam breaks inside
me. I rush the telling,
sure if I slow down I’ll grind
to a complete halt. I notice
Sarah nodding, but she stays
silent, like she intuits my fear
of stopping before the climax.
I know this can’t surprise her,
that she’s heard plenty of awful
things before, but when I get
to the part about Tears of Zion
and Jerome, her eyes grow
wider and wider, and when
she finally gets the chance to
speak, she says, I’ve just been
reading up on teen boot camp
horror stories. Your Tears of Zion
wasn’t mentioned, but there are
several similar places that
invoke conservative religious
values to abuse their clients.
Most parents, however, don’t have
any idea about their practices,
which include isolation, denial
of food, water, and the ability
to use the bathroom. Sometimes
they get shut down, but usually
they just move and set up shop
somewhere else. It’s very hard
to regulate them because often
they operate as “private schools,”
which have a whole different
regulatory process than, say,
rehab facilities or public entities.
Thank you, God! She believes
me! A huge knot of tension
tumbles from my shoulders,
and a warm wave of relief
washes over me. Still, tears
spill onto my cheeks. “I thought
everyone would think I was
lying. The only thing is, Mama
knew what was going on, and
she left me there anyway.”
Are you sure, Ru—I mean, Eden?
From everything I read, parents
rarely have a clue about what
goes on in these places. Why
would your mother leave you if . . .
She Trails Off
Noticing the way my face
turns to marble. “I guess
you’ll have to ask her that.
I assume you’ll need to be
in touch with them. But
do you really have to?
I’m so scared that if you
send me back to Boise,
they’ll make me return
to Tears of Zion. Mama
says I’m possessed, claimed
by Satan, and she really,
truly believes that. Please,
please, find a way to keep
me at Walk Straight. I’ll do
anything—work here for free,
or go to work somewhere else
and pay you to let me stay.
Whatever it takes. I can’t go
home!” But now, she’s shaking
her head, no. I wish I could
tell you okay, Eden, but the law
is very clear that I must report
your whereabouts to your legal
guardians, who happen to be
your parents in this case.
They have a right to know
you’re alive and safe. Besides,
what about your young man?
She’s completely missed the point.
Still, I knew this was not
only possible, but probable.
I’ll find a way to make it work.
And she’s right about Andrew,
if nothing else. “I understand.
Do whatever you have to do.
But is there a way for me to
maybe talk to a judge about
emancipation?” The word swims
out of my subconscious.
That is a possibility. As long as
you’re at least sixteen, as per
Nevada law, you can petition
the court. You’re seventeen, yes?
And when will you be eighteen?
“I just turned seventeen
last month. Right before I
came here, in fact.” A birthday
to remember, alone on the street,
sleeping behind a Dumpster.
I Learn
The requirements
of emancipation,
which are pretty
much the same in
Idaho as in Nevada:
Must be at least sixteen.
Check.
Must be living away
from your parents.
Check.
Must have the financial
security to be independent.
Almost check.
Walk Straight can
help me find a job.
Must stay in school
until you’re eighteen.
Check.
And this is where
things get tricky.
Both mother and father
must agree to let the child
emancipate.
Guess there’s only one
way to find out.
I Also Learn
The pros and cons
of emancipation.
Pro: You can enter
into contracts without
a parent’s signature.
Con: You can be sued
if you violate said contracts.
Pro: You can also sue
someone, if that’s a priority.
Yeah, me? Sue who?
Con: Cannot drop out
of school without written
permission from
the school board. No problem.
I want to be educated.
Pro: Can go to the doctor
of your choice and parent
doesn’t have to okay
treatment. Wonder if that
includes mental health.
And just FYI: Still can’t vote
until age of majority; can’t drink
till twenty-one. And worst
of all, can’t marry without
parental consent until eighteen.
Which Brings Me Back
To Andrew. Everything seems
to. Six months ago, I believed
we would marry as soon as I
turned eighteen. Yes, I knew
that was young to make such
a momentous decision, but
the overwhelming love we felt
for each other trumped common
sense. Now, I don’t know if
even the deepest affection
can overcome the reality
of who I am, what I’ve become.
This isn’t a romance novel,
not that I’ve ever read one.
Mama would have gone off
the deep end had she ever
found me in possession
of a steamy confessional.
Wonder what she’ll say when
she finds out what’s become of me.
If she suspected Satan’s handiwork
in my relationship with Andrew,
she’ll have no doubt at all that
he’s holding court inside me
once she’s privy to why I’m here.
I Look at Sarah
Who stares back at me, and I see
something in her eyes. Something
dark. Hidden. Something like
a secret. Suddenly I know. “You
were in the life once, weren’t you?”
No hesitation. Yes, Eden, I was,
although the circumstances were
somewhat different from those
of most of the girls here. Once
upon a time, I was a world-class
gymnast, used to having all eyes
on me. After a horrible fall,
I could no longer compete or
perform, but I still had a great body,
and I was only nineteen. I did get
a few TV commercials and stuff,
but not enough to cover the drug
dependency I’d developed after
the injury and beyond. Someone
suggested escorting with a high-
priced service. Believe it or not,
many failed athletes end up there,
and celebrity has its advantages,
including the level of clients who
are willing to pay top dollar for it.
She’s so open about it, it’s scary.
Why didn’t I suspect it before?
“How long did you do it? And
what got you out? And why are
you here?” So many questions!
Sarah takes a deep breath.
I escorted for a little over three
years. I can’t say it was an awful
experience because, like I said,
the men who pay upwards of
a thousand dollars an hour for
your company tend to be looking
for exactly that, with fringe benefits,
of course. For the most part, they’re
respectful, even kind, if a little kinky.
What got me out was two things.
The first was my boyfriend, who
found out what I was doing and
issued an ultimatum: Stay where
I was, or stay with him and he
would support me through rehab.
The second was watching younger
and younger girls being moved into
the business, and really coming to
understand just what was at stake.
Which doesn’t exactly explain
how she ended up here. “But why
did you get involved with Walk
Straight? You were already an
adult when you started escorting.”
Yes, and there was some rather
ugly lobbying being done by adult
sex workers who don’t like the term
“sexual exploitation” because they
say there’s no coercion involved.
But I saw teens who were promised
the world and forced out on the streets.
Maybe not where I was, but nearby.
I decided to get my degree in social
work and lobby on the other side.
I glanced at her left hand, find
no telltale ring, ask the question,
though I’m afraid of her answer.
“So, what happened with your
boyfriend? Are you still together?”
No. But I’m with someone different
now. He fell in love with me despite
knowing about my past. It’s all about
the man. But trust me, you can’t hide
from the truth. It’s persistent.
A Poem by Veronica Carino
The Truth Is Persistent
Once, I believed it possible
to hide lies behind a wall
of plausibility, but the facade
always crumbles. The only way to
help
rebuild any semblance
of trust’s to come clean and
plunge into apology, hoping
you don’t drown. I’ve always
managed to float, but that’s
me
and the depth of Cody’s
deception is hard to reconcile.
When the details first became clear,
I thought it would be impossible to
find
the compassion to go on
caring. But when I saw him
leaning into the opened arms
of death, a fierce sort of
forgiveness
surfaced, transcending anger
and resentment, buoyed
by the tenacity
of my indestructible love
for him.
Cody
How Do I Believe
Love is still possible
for a creature like me?
It’s not just the half-man
that I’ve become who’s
undeserving of the devotion
of someone like Ronnie,
or anyone at all. It’s the person
I already was—the one
responsible for the rest—
whose right to even exist
I question. He’s a liar.
Cheat. Hopeless addict.
Always seeking the easy
way out, and unable to admit
the horrible mistakes he was
making, despite the evidence
mounding right under his nose
and stinking like dog shit.
And now. Now there’s no way
to turn back the clock and
choose another path, let alone
fix what he’s done to his family,
his beautiful girl, his so-called
friends. Himself. All ruined.
Busting My Pity Bubble
Mom walks through the door, and
for once, all smiles. In fact, she’s
humming. “What’s up with you?”
She comes over, kisses my forehead.
Your social worker has accomplished
some magic. Apparently, Jack’s
medical insurance is still in force for
you and me, and with Nevada expanding
Medicaid under the Affordable Care Act,
your bills here are pretty much covered.
Plus, she found a rehab hospital
with some charitable giving “angels”
willing to take care of whatever costs
insurance won’t cover. You can move
there and start your rehab as soon as
your doctors say you’re ready. It’s
supposed to be an amazing place, and
I hear the food is a lot better, too.
She laughs as if that’s the funniest
thing ever. Hate to burst her own
bubble, but, “What if I don’t want rehab?”
Her mouth snaps shut, and suddenly
she looks about seventy years old. “Can’t
you just put me in a home or something?”
Yes, she can. Your own home, but not
till after your inpatient rehab. After
that, there will be more rehab, so shut
your mouth and for God’s sake, quit
feeling sorry for yourself. Ronnie stomps
into the room and across the floor,
looking every bit the part of a pissed
little girl. Man, she is something.
Why did she have to come into my life
just as it was ending? She reaches the bed,
nods once at Mom, and plops her cute
little behind right down on the mattress.
It strikes me that she and my mother
have never met, except for in passing
at Jack’s funeral. “Mom, this is—”
Your mom and I have met, interrupts
Ronnie. In fact, together we have
formed the Cody Bennett Fan Club
and Two Woman Cheer Squad.
Our mission is to get your ass out
of that bed and on your feet again.
&nbs
p; Mom’s Expression
Changes to smug.
I really don’t get it.
I will never stand on
my feet again. My
head begins to twist
side to side. “Not
going to happen and
you know it. Why
don’t you just leave
me alone? Go find a real
man. Someone who’ll
love you the way you
deserve to be loved.
Seriously, Ronnie. I’m
a sinking ship. Don’t
go down with me when
the lifeboat is empty
and waiting for you.”
Ronnie turns to face
me straight on. Last
time I looked, assault
was a crime punishable
by jail time. Consider
yourself lucky I’d rather
not experience lockup,
or I just might slap you.
Instead, I’ll do this. . . .
With zero regard for
my mom’s presence,
Ronnie leans into me,
covers my mouth with
hers. Her lips are sticky
with cherry-flavored gloss.
The kiss is a slow ride
to heaven, and transports
me back to the post-funeral
afternoon we spent in bed,
sponging comfort from
the heat of our intertwined
bodies. If Mom wasn’t
watching, I’d try to assess
the boner I must be wearing.
Muscles have memories,
right? Hey. What happens to
a catheter when your dick
gets hard? The sudden
thought makes me pull away.
Still, I say, “Thank you.”
Hurt Surfaces
In her eyes, and her face grows
taut in response. Thank you?
That’s the best you can do, Cody?
I know exactly what she wants
to hear, but if I say it, if I make
it real, I’ll just open us both up
to disappointment. Mom looks
almost as eager as Ronnie for me
to admit it, and that makes it harder
yet. “Mom, could you please give
us a few minutes alone?” Her nod
is reluctant, but she leaves the room.
Once she’s retreated, I hold out
my hands and Ronnie takes them
into her own. “Veronica Carino,
you are the most amazing girl
in the entire universe. And the fact
is, I fucking love you more than life
itself, which is why I want you to
find the person you deserve, and
that is so not me. . . .” She tries
to interrupt me again, but I shake