Valentine

Chapter Two - Elizabeth

We lived far out, in some backwater town that’s long ago lost its name to Meyerton. I hated it there. We were dirt poor, lived in a small two-bedroom house if you could even call the three by five-meter space a bedroom. My parents had nothing and I hated them for it. My father, a failed farmer that tried his hand at every job under the sun to no success. My mother, a hippy in every sense of the word, sold beads and fake jewels at market stalls on weekends.

I tried my best to love them. I really did, but my resentment outshone any love they could have given. Maybe it was their bad taste in who they brought over, drug-addled fools and peddlers. I realized late, that this was their only coping method. Hitting the bottom of the bottle, or the end of their stash. Uncle Phil couldn't live without his pills, and he was the main dealer to my mother and father. I remember the day the doctors gave him the news, he had a tumor the size of a ping pong ball in his head; I was elated.

Not that I was the best daughter to deal with, I was stubborn and had a lack of empathy towards them that came out often. Worst of it all, I often prayed that I was adopted, but my mother and I looked too much alike for that to be true. The high cheek bones, ample bosom and mousy brown hair, with strands of ash blonde that shown throughout. It was hard to tell us apart sometimes, I guess it was my mother’s laid back nature that kept her looking young, and it was my constant worrying that made me age before my time.

“Honey, are you going to go to school today?” Mother asked. She preferred the days I answered no. Her first concern was dragging herself out of bed to take me, her second was the money wasted driving into town to drop me off at the community college. School was never on her list of priorities for me.

"I think so. I'll take myself if you want me to." Having my license for years already, I never knew why they wouldn't let me get behind the wheel. They explained it was a safety precaution, and that was the end.

In my youthful irritation, I believed it was because they cared more about the car being stolen than me. In my eyes, they were horrible people with a cruel maliciousness behind every action. That’s why we lived so far away from everything and everyone. The polluted lake that hadn’t seen flowing water in a good few years, stank up the house. Mosquitoes and flies a constant nuisance, feasting on us as they pleased. Another one of my father’s get rich quick schemes.

“I don’t think your father will like that, baby-girl. I’ll just take you. I’ve got to get into town anyway, to get some more beads.” My mother said.

“Yeah, right. I’ll be ready in twenty minutes then we can go.” I shaved the time in half so that we could get out of there as soon as possible. It was growing into a warm day, with the sun that rose higher and higher, the air grew thinner, heat blistered the wasteland that was my father’s property.

We got into the old Chevy truck that survived from the sixties. Getting it started was always a mission, it shook and sounded awful. The car was dying, just like its owners.

When my mother got it right, the engine roared to life in defiance, threatening with every gear shift to cease. We drove this way from our spit of land into town. Not a word shared between us.

“Thanks for the ride mom.” I broke the silence as she pulled into one of the college parking spaces.

"Of course, baby." She smiled a sickly smile, that showed missing teeth with the rest decaying. My mother was a beautiful woman, once. She looked like me. Young, vibrant and full of life, but by that time she could have been a walking public service announcement on drug use. She was haggard, aged before her time and feeble. My father was the same, apart from his swollen belly.

I got out of the car and headed to school.

~ ~ ~

With dreams of being the next Charlize Theron, Sandra Bullock, Jessica Chastain and everything in between, I took to drama. It was a terrible class that offered open lessons to those who wanted to come and go. There were no entrance exam, nor requirements. It was done in a gym hall, with paint peeling off the walls, stained floors and the teacher reminded me of a weasel.

But it was all I had.

“Ladies and gentlemen, today we have a very special guest. William Santiago has come to speak with our class, for some reason,” Mister Lewis seemed confused as to why, so it definitely wasn’t a scheduled visit, “From what I’ve been told, William is a well-renowned actor on Broadway shows in New York.”

William, or who I assumed to be him, walked up to the center of the class, his eyes looking from student to student, judgingly. I looked away, not wanting to meet the gaze of his steely blue eyes. He was gorgeous, beyond even. A strong jawline, and black hair that made his eyes pop. I turned back, a moment too late. Our eyes met and I knew, I was going to be asked a question I could not answer.

“What does it mean to be an actor?” He asked.

"I don't know," I replied.

“Then you’re on the right track.”

He continued his lesson, talking senseless artistic gibberish and every second of it took my breath away.

After class, William Santiago caught up with me. I didn’t think I’d ever see his face again, let alone have it rushing towards me through fully crowded halls.

“Wait, I want to talk with you.” He called out, and I stopped dead in my tracks, looking over my shoulder at him. Turning my head back, I bit my lip. I was nervous, butterflies began billowing in my belly.

“What can I help you with?” I asked.

“I’m going to be in town for a while. I’ve got some business to attend and I would love if you would show me around.” He responded.

“Show you around? There’s really not much more to see than this. You go a street up and you’re in Meyerton’s hub, you go a street down and you can buy a few chickens. What business could a big shot city boy like you even have here in Meyerton?” I inquired. He would have done his research and if he was really here on business, it wouldn’t have been for much longer than a day or two. Meyerton was the epitome of a one-horse town.

“You seem like someone I could be interested in spending time with. You don’t have to say yes, though.” I couldn’t help but think he was after an easy target, but I don’t believe (apart from our look) I showed any real interest in him. Besides girls far prettier than I gave him more admiration than I ever could.

“Well, if you’ve got a ride to take me back home, I’ll show you around town just fine.” A few hours away from home. I could actually get behind that idea.