Eternal Summer: Memories of June – 001

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This – was – huge!

Beach house for the Summer!!! I was getting excited!!!!

I rushed over to talk to my mom and she phoned Claris.

“Hello?” A raspy cigarette filled voice answered on the other line.

“Claris! This is Diana, Jose’s wife!?” My mom said in a nice tone. Aunt Claris was a little crazy. Too many drugs crazy.

“Of course Diana! Didn’t recognize your voice there, how you’ve been honey!” Claris seemed nice and perked up when she heard my moms voice

“Same old, same old,” My mom perked a smile.

“How’s Jose?” Claris asked on the other line I heard her take a puff of something.

“He’s good, working on construction, he’s hands on with lots of buildings right now.” Mom sounded worried.

“Chief manager or above I hope,” Claris interrupted.

“Junior executive,” my mom blurted out the truth.

Claris made a disappointed sound by smacking her lips.

“Good enough, I guess,” there it was the underhanded comments.

“Not everyone has an investment portfolio like yours, honey,” it sounded personal.

There was a beat.

“So why’d you’d called?” Claris dropped the nice act and got to the point.

“Right – my bad – you see Miles tells me you’d sent him an email?” My mom shrugs her shoulder and rolls her eyes. While looking at me.

“Wow that was fast,” I hear a blunt being put out.

“I did send it – yeah,” Claris says almost like she’s leaning over.

“So what do you think, would Miles be up for it?” I nod furiously.

“How much is the pay?” My mom asks.

“For the whole summer I can write you a check for – let’s say, 10K,” Mom seemed relieved. She plays it cool.

There’s another beat.

“He says he’ll do it!” she says hiding a smile.

“Great! That’s great! I’ll send you a one way trip leaving this weekend. You’ll have to drive to the train station but it’s only a 30 minute drive – then you’ll leave Miles at the station and he’ll have to take the train, it’s a 5 hour trip so I’ll buy him some lunch. All right sounds like a plan!

“Perfect, mhmm, okay bye.” Mom hangs up.

“What did she say, how much?” I ask.

“She said 10K!” Mom and I started celebrating. Jumping up and down and screaming like little girls.

It’s money we need. It’s life or death.

That night we talked with dad.

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“YOU’RE NOT GOING!” Dad screamed and slammed the table as he removes his napkin from his neck. And slams it on his plate.

“Honey be reasonable,” mom whispers.

“C’mon dad it’ll be fun, it’s a little distraction, and I’ll have the beach for a few months.” I whine.

There’s a beat. Dad seems flustered.

“You’re- you’re happy to pawn our kid off to my sister and he’s gonna be part of the help?” He said it like it’s a bad thing.

“Claris said more like a VIP, not part of the help, what’s gotten into you, we need the money Jose, we are struggling, it’s 10K, think of the hospital bills.”

“We have insurance-“ My dad struggled through.

“IT’s FREE MONEY!!!” Mom shouted.

My dad sighed.

“Dianita, mi amor, tú sabes que a mí no me gusta que el muchacho ande trabajando de mozo,” dad switched to Spanish.

“Ahi, resulta, el muchacho se va 2 meses de los boy scouts y tu ni pio, pero ah que the help y que no es güarro y que no es mozo, y tampoco valet, menos fast food worker y que no se que,” moms Spanish voice is dignified and classy.

“Miles needs to make how to make money!” Mom continued.

It was the Gay scouts actually. There was some crusing with the boys. The teachers were actually highly religious for some reason. I was 16.

“Entiende es differente, que ande de mozo, pues it’s embarrassing,” dad could switch perfectly between his English and Spanish accents.

“Those are stereotypes and you know it, what so nurses can’t be males?? porfavor, our sons gay we should be more open minded.”

Mom had found my sketchbook we talked about it dad had a whole meltdown. But was cool in the end.

“Otra ves con la pinches joterias,” dad whispered.

“Excuse me?” Mom said in a heartbeat. He basically called me the F slur to my face but in Spanish. Somehow it felt softer but still meant the same thing.

“No no no, aver aver.” he started.

“I’m accepting, it’s his life, he can do whatever he wants, and I already said, if he has a boyfriend he needs to bring him to the carne asada, so he can meet the neighborhood, I wanna meet el cabron, por dios, and fuck the homophobic MAGA shits, you both know I love you – but he’s gay y me hermana lo va a traer de chacha, ósea por favor Dianita mi vida. Gay and mozo, it’s too much for me.”

“But you’re okay with me being in Drag Race?” I interrupted. My mom made a face and movement like I told you so.

Dad sighed again

“Drag Race is something that could lead you down a good path, you get good at it you compete get your drag name out there and you’ll start selling your own makeup in no time. I’m telling you there’s a hidden market there.” Dad said without missing a beat while stuffing his face with mom’s sandwich dinner. She made the best subs.

Mom raises an eyebrow. We stood in silence.

“Dad but it’s still a job,” I sighed angrily.

He looked at mom and then at me.

“Ahí – Okay fine,” he finally agreed. Reluctantly but agreed. Mom sighed of relief.

“Thank god because that money’s really gonna help,” she sighed. I smiled.

The table went silent. Remembering.

He changed the subject.

“We can splurg a little and get you the PS3 if you wanna.” Dad looked at me with puppy dog eyes.

“Nah – that’s okay, PS2 games are cheaper anyway.” Dad smiles and ruffles my hair. My cousin had gifted it as a hand me down. But kept all his games because they still ran on his PS3.

“Anyway I have to go pack,” I said standing up.

“Hold on – did you get to play that Japanese game I bought you?” He had picked it up at a Best Buy thanks to one of the geek squad members recommending it to him. They never sold out of copies after the reprint apparently. Not in our Best Buy in the middle of nowhere.

“Not yet,” I said uninterested in this topic and wanting to go to my room and start packing.

“The guy at Best Buy said it’s good!” He shouted across the room.

“Uh-huh,” I motioned as I was heading up the stairs.

“You know sometimes I feel I don’t get to him,” he whispered to my mom.

“It’s just teenage things. Give him some independice.” Mom said.

(continue reading)