But yet he hugged me goodbye and told me “Good job. I’ll tell them I’d like to use you again. I might have a gig in three weeks in Hartford.”
This left me dumbfounded.
The agency is getting back the uniform tomorrow; I’m not doing this again.
God, it was humiliating.
But, at least it’s over. And besides, humiliation feels like my middle name this month.
I have to figure out what the heck I’m going to do.
To back up about what the past week has been like, it’s been awful, the worst.
It started when I got evicted because I couldn’t pay the rent on time due to getting stiffed by Mr. Bolliano who hasn’t returned my calls the past few days.
I tried to work it out, buy more time, but my brother made life harder by coming home the day after the rent was due and for reasons unknown, kicked in the fire extinguisher window in the lobby of the building. It was caught on security camera, so after the eviction notice got taped to the door with a Post-it adding that if we didn’t leave that day, my brother would face charges for property damage, we packed up quick.
So, homelessness is a daunting prospect, to put it mildly, especially when you’re down to your last seventy-five dollars and don’t even have a car you can sleep in.
I even degraded myself by asking my father if me and my brother could stay with him temporarily. He still lives in the house we grew up in. Our bedrooms are still there, mine looking the same as the day I moved out. Empty. Dad hung up on me after telling me he ‘told me so’ and that Shane was “just like your mother”.
I ignored the nagging feeling that last statement gave me, because yes, I was pretty sure Mom had mental illness, too. She left when we were small, and she, too, had extreme ups and downs in her moods.
I haven’t seen her since that day I watched her walk out with just the small floral suitcase. Of course I spent many nights wondering where she wound up, if she’d found happiness, and why she never tried to reach out to us, especially after we grew up.
Dad is old school, old-fashioned, and hard-headed. I could almost see how she’d have trouble dealing with him after she left, but surely she could’ve made room in her life for us once we were grown up and she wouldn’t have to deal with Dad anymore.
I didn’t get a chance to explain to my dad that my situation wasn’t entirely because of Shane, though if I was honest, the fact that he left me to handle all the financials and didn’t once try to step up knowing I was struggling – he definitely didn’t help matters.
My brother’s friend Sedgewick, a punk singer I’d never met before came and loaded our stuff into his rusty pickup truck and it’s now being stored on one side of the rented warehouse unit where he rehearses with his bandmates. All my worldly goods are stacked at one end of that smelly unit filled with old couches and graffiti-covered walls. Oh and there’s a wall of cages on the other side, with rodents and insects and one large aquarium with a python in it. I’m terrified of snakes so no way could I sleep there.
That garage was our only offer of a temporary place to stay and Sedgewick seemed like a good guy, but no way was I staying there.
Anybody else in my very small circle either made an excuse or outright refused to let me come unless I came alone. I couldn’t bear to let Shane go to that unit by himself, especially with the fact that his state of mind seems to be worse. If I leave him to his own devices, Lord knows what’ll happen.
He needs his meds. He’s partying really hard. He’s barely eating or sleeping. He doesn’t seem to grasp the gravity of our situation. And I’m ready to rip my hair out because of all the stress.
So, I felt stuck.
And that’s my excuse for doing what I did.
What I did wasn’t ethical. It’s technically not even legal. And believe me, I feel bad about it. But I didn’t know what else to do – and I tried to get permission. But when I couldn’t… well… I’ve just been hoping it’ll work out, that I’ll figure something else out quick and it won’t come back to bite me.
It was this or stay in that garage with our stuff in an even worse neighborhood than I lived in. With a snake and only a dingy bathroom without a shower, even.
What did I do?
I still had Aiden Carmichael’s key. I called him first, I did, but I did that while I was on the way there. He didn’t answer, so I left a voicemail message. He didn’t call back, so I left two more. I also texted but he didn’t answer, either so I called the number I had for Carly. Full mailbox. I tried their office, too, and their reception said they’re both traveling.