[Fiction]

From Chapter Two of Girl Walking Backwards

By Bett Williams

Riley and I met on my first day at my new school. I was standing in line to get some papers signed. Other students waited in chatty groups while I stood alone, feeling self-conscious. Riley came out of nowhere and introduced himself. Instant social life. He was gorgeous and philosophical. We liked the same music, wore the same clothes. People thought we were brother and sister. We were so perfect we made everyone sick.

My mom and Riley's mom, Heather, were never really friends. They were in the same aerobics class once. Heather didn't rat on me because she liked my mom all that much. She didn't. She did it because she had something against me. She used to tell my mom in aerobics class that she thought I was dyslexic or had some kind of learning disability because my attention span was short. She based this on the fact that I would fall asleep while watching TV at their house. She thought she was some kind of child expert because she had taught at Montessori schools all her life. Anyway, Riley told his mom about my bendable sexuality and the very next day she called my mom to vent her "concerns" for me.

I got home from school one windy day in the fall to find my mom sobbing on the bed.

"What's the matter?"

"Get out," she said with icy bitterness.

"What?"

"You freak. You liar. Get out of my house!" Spit flew from her mouth.

"What are you talking about?"

"Why do you lie to me? Heather called me today," Mom managed to say between heaving sobs. "She asked me out of the blue how I felt about you being gay." She said the word gay as if it was some gastric outburst, then sobbed again.

"She doesn't know me."

"I'm the one who doesn't know you."

"You know me."

"No, I don't. I don't know you at all. You're a stranger." As if it was the most corny moment in the worst After-School Special she asked, "Are you a lesbian?"

"Maybe, yeah. Actually, I'm bisexual, I think. Whatever. What's the matter with you? It's no big deal."

Then I witnessed Mom just break into pieces. It was old pain. It had a smell. All the parts of her that were hidden, secretly anguished, and unfulfilled came bursting up to the surface like some monster pimple. Seeing Mom in such a state sent me into shock. I saw Mom at different ages, as a teenager, as a young adult, in her prime trying to be glamorous. All her pain was a black hole full of sludge and she was putting it all on me. I knew right then not to take it personally, she'd gone insane. I thought she would snap out of it eventually. But I was mistaken.

She came in and out of my room, yelling at me all through the night. She ripped pictures off my wall. She picked up my copy of Vogue zine and screamed, "What is this, your Playboy?"

Her image of me was so sordid. I tried to ignore her until it just became too much to take. About four in the morning, I calmly walked into the living room and in one swoop knocked a long row of stacked CDs off the shelf with my hand. The cases made quite a racket as they split apart and cracked. Mom's CD collection always pissed me off. She just bought whatever was shown on television.

"Why did you do that?"

"I don't know. You're making me crazy. You have to calm down. I can't stand this."

"You can't stand this! Do you know what you've done to me? Do you know?"

She got down on her knees and started picking up her CDs -- half of which were lesbian contemporary-rock singers. What a hypocrite. I didn't say anything. I went back into my room. It just didn't make sense. Mom was countercultural. A vegetarian. I wouldn't have expected her to act like that in a million years.

The next morning she wouldn't talk to me. I sensed her venom before I even woke up and decided to pick up a muffin on the way to school instead of making a bagel in the kitchen. That became ritual. Mom's mood didn't change.

From Chapter Two of Girl Walking Backwards

By Bett Williams

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