Beyond The Veil

Fairy tales are for children. That is what my mother always taught me; among the many other life lessons she managed to spew out in between drunken nights spent on the couch with her head in a bowl and a cigarette dangerously close to the gross polyester that has seen more men than a public urinal. And as terrible as all her lessons were I learned from them so as not to end up like her. Thus my three rules to scrape by through life were created: Rule 1# If it comes between yourself and someone else, always choose yourself since no one else will.   Rule # 2 If you can’t afford to pay for something upfront don’t get it. Yeah credit cards are nice, shiny, and alluring like a siren song. Let me tell you though   And finally   Rule #3 Never trust a man when he says he will take care of you. Sure he will give you some pretty words about how you are forever but the second a shinier, new PYT comes along he will drop you like last seasons Prada.   Yeah my rules might seem harsh but they are how I managed to make it to twenty-one in the garbage dump that we call home and this great sparkly thing we call life. Gross note the sarcasm. Besides, although working as a waitress in a run down mom and pop diner isn’t the most glamorous of occupations at least it is better looking than my night job at “Shady Joe’s Exotic Wonders”. It’s not actually called “Shady Joe’s” but it might as well be with how creepy the current owner is. Even when we girls are fully clothed it feels like he is mentally undressing us every time he looks our way… it’s so gross!   It’s true what they say though, every thing in life teaches you a lesson of some kind. From my job at the diner I learn how to smile and play the role of the giggly air head whose only wish in life is to serve. It’s my night job that has taught me some of the most valuable lessons of all; how to be confident even when inside I just want to curl up and cry. I’ve also learned how to exude the s*x appeal that draws men to me so that I might be able to use them to get what I want. Well we both benefit so is it really using them? They get the girlfriend experience that their wives either can’t or won’t give them. They get to feel young and powerful once more before they go back to their cookie cutter life. And what do I get out of all this? Money, resources, a life I would never be able to experience on my own, and even a little bit of fun.   Any material gifts of affection that I receive either on the dance floor or on dates are carefully hidden away or else it would be gone in a flash, straight towards my mother’s two boyfriends; Mr. Heroin and Mr. Vodka. Don’t get wrong though, I do love my mother. She raised me all by herself after my “no good, damn dirty bastard” of a father left her to go back to his wife and children. Not that I blamed him when I was a child cause what did I know. Mom always told me that he left because he loved us so much and wanted to make a better life for us and once he had he would come back and take us away to live in a shining castle. Well obviously that didn’t happen or else this would be a completely different story.   *   No instead I met him on complete accident when I was taking my little sister Lizzie Trick or Treating in the rich part of town the year I turned fifteen. Lizzy being only five at the time was in complete shock and awe at how the other half lived compared to our humble apartment on the other side of the tracks. To me though, most of the houses looked the same. All big and over done, like who needs a house that large unless they have a million kids. It just all seemed a bit ridiculous to me as I scoffed as all the rich kids passed us in their fancy, obviously not cheap store bought, costumes which were probably worth more than what I would have made at my part time job at the diner if I saved up every penny for year. A part of me felt a bit embarrassed as I looked over my cheap Walmart bought fairy costume that was fitted over leggings and a t-shirt to fight off the October chill in the air.   I remember growing tired and the gross display of wealth being put on parade by everyone that I told Lizzie that this next house would be the last. The disappointment on her face still haunts me as she realized that the dream would have to end. She zombie crawled up the winding path to the last house, as if hoping to make the dream last just a bit longer. When we got up to the door I impatiently and with much sarcasm motioned for my sister to knock on the door. Letting out the littlest sigh she brought her dirt stained hand up to the knocker, yeah this house had door knockers like from that David Bowie movie my mother was obsessed with, and knocked twice.   A beautiful blonde lady answered the door with a smile so bright that it had to have been fake. Though once she saw the kids standing at her door the smile was replaced with a scowl as she carefully pulled out a single piece of candle and practically threw it in my sister’s bag before she could even say “Trick or Treat”.   “There! Now get on back to your side of town filthy children. You don’t belong here,” the nasally voice that emitted from her mouth was like nails on a chalk board. Both her voice and what she said to my sister put me on the immediate defense. Covering my sisters ear I look at the lady with full fury.   “Listen here Malibu Barbie! I know it’s only Halloween but could you like not act like such a raging b***h to a child just for the sake of the holiday?” I snarl back at her as I glare through half lidded eyes. Shock marred her otherwise pretty features as an older man came to the front door to see what all the commotion was about.   “Darling? What seems to be going on here?” the poshness of his London accent shocked me as I stared up at the face of a man that I said goodnight to almost every night. Though much older now this was definitely the same man as the one in the picture that my mom had given to me when I turned ten, saying how it is only right that I know what my father looks like. Though even without the picture the resemblance is uncanny. The same bright blue eyes that seem always to light up with mischief or humour. The bow of his lip is a little thinner than my own but those were definitely my dimples hidden beneath the most damning evidence of all, bright coppery hair that shimmers like fire in the sun.   Even this dark out I can see the flames of his hair and how close it is to my own, something I definitely did not get from my overly blonde mother. I must have zoned out since the man was now standing right in front of me with his arms cross at his chest and a smirking Barbie behind him. Though the look on his face is stern it is also inquisitive, like he can’t seem to figure me out.   “Now I know a young lady such as yourself must have been raised with better manners than the ones displayed tonight.” he scolds as I quirk an eyebrow and cross my own arms to match his stance. “What would you father say if he saw you acting out like this?” I bark out a laugh at the sheer irony of the situation as Barbie looks at me as if I am deranged. Though Absentee Dad just looks rather confused by the exchange as his arms lower and he says a woman’s name. “Helen?”   Hearing him call my mothers name I resume my stance though this time with my steel in my spine as a hard edge reaches my voice. “How the hell do you know my mom’s name?” His spine stiffens as he glances out of the corner of his eye to check on Barbie but she doesn’t seem to notice the inner turmoil of her husband. Clearing his throat he turns to look at his wife and gently takes her hand in his before raising it up to his mouth to drop a little kiss on it, gross gag me please, before turning back to us.   “It seems to have been an awfully long night for all of us. Why don’t you children head home, I am sure your parents are worried about you,” his wife begins to protest before he shoots her a look. “Darling why don’t you put on a spot of tea to calm the nerves and we can retire early for the night. Brandon and Jessica are staying with friends so there is no need to stay up any later.” For some reason his words seem to calm Barbie down and she heads back inside to do as she was bid. Talk about a Stepford wife. Looking back at us one more time the man says “good night” as a proper gentleman ought to and followed his wife inside.   The conversation that occurred as soon as Lizzie and I got back home was a s**t storm to say the least.   * Reminiscing about the past is always a b***h and a half for me. Bringing up old feelings I would rather keep hidden way deep down but are bubbling up that at any second they could explode. Yeah it’s so much fun in my head. Though that might be why I enjoy dancing as much as I do. To be able to lose myself in something to the point that I don’t know where the music ends and I begin. So what if when I do dance it is half naked for the thirsty rednecks in this s**t hole town. It gets me paid and I have fun doing it most nights.    Tonight though seems… different. Like there is a charge in the air that is riling up anyone with half a brain cell. Even I’m more irritable than normal and some guys like to tell me that I must be constantly PMSing with the amount of attitude I sling at them everyday. Well if some of them weren’t such dumbasses I wouldn’t have to throw attitude. The gods though are smiling on me as I just finished with my shift for the night and can finally head home for some much needed R&R. So I quickly change from my “uniform” and into some comfy yoga pants and tank top as I shove everything else into my go bag and head up to the bar before leaving for the night.   “You did well today lil mama,” Tiny nods to me as I hand him the stack of ones to be counted and exchanged. “Have you thought anymore about that offer?” I had thought about the offer. A small frown crosses my face as I put a few stands of hair out of my face. To be able to move up into an actual gentleman’s club in the city, it could be life changing for me. The amount of money I could potentially make would almost make it worth it to just up and leave. Though the possibility of failure is also very real as I look around the small town club and think of all the other girls that would be my competition. Sure I do alright here but in a big city, no way. Better to be safe than sorry.   “Now just isn’t the time to be making big life changes my dude,” I shrug as he hands me my earnings for the night. A thick eyebrow raises as he looks me over in slight disbelief. “Besides who would look after Mom if not me?” A harsh laugh escapes him, you know the kind that says ‘I’ve been smoking for twenty years and now just starting to regret it’. Closing the till Tiny looks me straight in the eyes and counters. “But what about your rules, huh? Aren’t you breaking them yourself by staying behind?” Shooting him a glance of annoyance I shove the bills in my bra, cause I’m classy like that.   “Mom doesn’t count. She has been through enough in her life that the least I can do is help her out now,” it wasn’t meant to come out as a whisper but any louder and the emotion behind the words would definitely shine through. Tiny gives me a soft smile, well as soft as he is capable of, and waves me off to head home. “Go take care of that momma of yours.” Saying my goodbyes I exit the club and embrace the warm summer air.