Finding Her

Willow

 

  As we pull into my spot at the Fenton Lake Campground I'm reminded of why I love this place. I get plenty of shade throughout the day to keep the Bus cool if I needed to work inside on anything, there are plenty of trees to choose from for me to hang my hammock, and since it's late August the few people I have to worry about coming up this far are only here for one to two days for one last overnight camp trip before fall comes.

  We enjoy leisurely mornings here at our home on wheels parked in spot 25. The only thing that encourages me to be up before the sun is the fish waiting to get caught for a nice dinner tonight out on the Lake.

  I get my bicycle out from the back of Blue Daisy, have all the pups situated in the baskets on the handlebars, side saddle bags, and milk cart I've attached to the back. Once everyone is secure and ready we can bike the two miles down to our favorite spot on the Lake.

  When I bike out to the Lake for some fishing I always think of the woman who took me in for the longest while my parents did anything but raise me. Her name was Charlotte and she seemed like the most wise woman I'd ever known. And thinking about it now- she more than likely was.

I had always thought of Charlotte as a wacky old witch. Looking back know I realize she was no older than Thirty-five and was just living an unconventional lifestyle. Most of the people my parents dumped me on were old people from whatever church they could find that believed whatever bullshit story my parents could come up with. I was used to furniture covered with plastic, fancy dishes full of butterscotch candy, and doilies covering every surface. 

  Charlotte lived in the mountains of Colorado. Her home was a small cabin in the middle of the woods.  I think she was probably the first person to volunteer to take me in, she didn't need to hear a bullshit story. She saw a twelve-year-old girl sitting out in the truck while my Dad drank away in the roadside bar she frequented. She saw me huddled up in the back seat trying to keep warm and sleep. She marched right up to my Dad and gave him a piece of her mind, but not after breaking her hand with his nose of course. My Dad obviously only had bullshit reasoning for the mild child abuse and when Charlotte questions him on it her told her, "Well if you think you can do a better job, be my fucking guest!" And Charlotte accepted.

I lived with Charlotte for five years. My parents would come by periodically throughout the years, always telling me how much better was without me. They didn't use those exact words of course, but the general attitude was there.

Charlotte always did something to make me feel special after these visits. Many times it was going fishing or walking in the woods to talk about my feelings. Charlotte never wanted me to ball things up inside. "Keeping the bad feelings in only makes the bad feelings grow, Sweets. You don't wanna let that shit take root deep down, you're too good for all that bad"

  Charlotte was the only person who seemed to understand the magnitude of what my parents were putting me through. She didn't cover for them like the old church people did, she said it like it is, "your parents are selfish dickheads. The Universe knew you needed someone like me, and I needed someone like you." I think it's because of Charlotte's brutal honesty I made it to be a productive un-dickheaded adult.

  We had a great life together. Charlotte bought me my first bra, showed me how to use a tampon, and even bought me my first vibrator. Not that I ever used it, but Charlotte believed in being as connected to yourself sexualy as you could. It was as important as being physically and mentally connected. I of course never told her that it was weird because what the fuck did I know?

  Everything changed once my Dad was cut off from my Nonas money. Nona was finally sick and tired of my Dads bullshit. It took her a long time, but once she decided she was done she really was. My Dad had never held down a job in his life and was used to getting that cash in his account every month. He needed something that would get my Nona's attention and make her give him what he would say, "his rightful share."

My Dad came to get me from Charlotte one day out of the blue when I was 17. He told Charlotte that he was ready to be a Father and thanked her for all she's done for me, but it was time for me to come home. I told him that my home was here with Charlotte and I didn't want to go. He did not take that well and then attempted to force me in his vehicle. Charlotte of course did not allow that and broke my Dads nose for the second time. The Police were called and as it turns out my Dad was prepared for that exact situation and you can't convince me that he didn't plan for it to go that way. Once the Police got there he provided all the documentation he needed to prove I was his child and legally Charlotte had no claim to me.

The Police had all the evidence they needed to give my Dad the okay to take me and then decide what he wanted to do with Charlotte. My Dad pulled Charlotte and me to the side and gave us an ultimatum; I leave with him willing and without any trouble, or he decides to go forward and have Charlotte arrested for the punch in the nose.

Charlotte was more than willing to spend some time locked up, but I wasn't willing to take that chance. I decided to leave with my Dad. I was heartbroken to leave the only stable home and real loving family I'd ever had, but I wanted to protect Charlotte. I promised her that I would come back as soon as I could.

As we left the Police had to hold Charlotte back and she very nearly almost broke another nose trying to get to me. The worst part was her screaming and crying for my Dad not to take me. I've never forgotten now cruel my Dad was that day.

I hate when I get to thinking about these awful memories. It makes me feel like such a failure to Charlotte and to myself; I should've put up more of a fight for the only woman who ever truly cared about me.