Rosie's Diary

I Don't Remember When I Started Hating Her

January 15, 2000 - 4:45 am

Okay back. I didn't get another drink. I made a sandwich.

So as I was saying -- From that night on I am so stressed out I can barely eat. Not only because of what I overheard, but because AC doesn't show up the next day, nor the day after. Is she on her vacation being happy or is she somewhere worshipping the devil?

Three weeks pass without a visit from or a mention of AC. On Daddy's birthday, he comes home with a 12-pack of beer and I'm scared to death. Even at 9 years old, I know Daddy and Mama don't consume alcohol because drunkenness is sinful. But that night he drinks more than half the box before Mama and I finish frosting his cake. We end up having his birthday dinner on TV trays in the living room because the man can barely stand. I sit on the couch staring at him bent over his food, eyes half focused on Doogie Howser while I salt my green beans with silent tears. When we get to his present and he rips the paper with such force it tears the box, I decide I will never see AC again.

Finally, on the last day of school, Mama picks me up and says, "Your Aunt has been sick so we are going to take her some soup." Well, my ass is in the car before she can put a period on the sentence. When we get to AC's apartment, Mama gives her a quick hello before disappearing down the short hallway with her grocery bags. I wait, not sure if all of this is a trick or not. I was sure the second I opened my mouth to speak to AC that Mama would snatch me by the arm and take me away from her again. But Mama stays in the kitchen long enough for me to find my courage. I place my hand on AC's forehead. "You're not sick, you're fakin' it, I can tell!"

She takes my hand from her forehead and gently squeezes it. "If you can tell, then everyone can, can't they?"

I ask if she missed Daddy's birthday because she was praying to Lucifer. I don't remember AC's expression changing in the slightest. She simply says, "I am a child of God, Rosalinda."

"Did you tell Mama and Daddy that?"

She nods.

"Then I'll tell them too."

"No, baby, leave it to me. I will tell them again."

Thinking the devil issue settled, I jump to the next matter-- her vacation. I ask how it went.

"It was nice."

"Did you go everywhere you wanted to go and do everything you wanted to do?" This is something AC always said to me after we got back from our annual trip to San Diego. It was my first time asking her.

"Why, yes I did."

"Did you see your friend?"

Aunt Conny's eyes search my face. "Yes, I saw my friend."

"Did your friend have a nice vacation?"

"Yes, I think so."

Surely Mama would be coming out of the kitchen any second so my last question had to be a good one, the most important one. "What's your friend's name?"

AC grins at me from ear-to-ear. She's pleased by my question. She says, "Lorraine."

Well after that visit I am REALLY confused. First, I wanted to know why they thought AC worshipped Satan. Daddy always said you have to take a person at their word, and AC said she was a child of God. But more pressing on my mind was why would Daddy and Mama be mad Aunt Conny had a friend named Lorraine? If I knew anything, I knew women had girlfriends. Mama had her girlfriends come over to play cards and drink lemonade every week, so why couldn't AC go on vacation with Lorraine?

CUT TO: A Sunday in 1993. There's a gay and lesbian march in Washington D.C. that the pastor wants to talk about. In fact, he wants to scream about it. He keeps shouting, "WE are the people of God and we will not AH-WAAARD this sin. WE are the people GOD and we shall NOOOT AH-WAAARD this SIN." Over and over as folks nod in agreement. I decide it isn't his best sermon, and wait patiently for AC to show up so I can tell her so-- but she never does.

After church I expect to find AC waiting on our doorstep. Although she didn't come over as much anymore, she always came by on Sunday afternoons for our Winley tradition of simultaneous board games, where we play two board games at once, which ups the stakes because you have to be focused on two different strategies. But she's not there when we get home. I decide she must be at the donut shop and I don't worry about it. We play Guess Who and Operation, me and Daddy against Mama. Daddy and I win, we eat dinner and Daddy plops down in front of the TV. Everything is fine and dandy until the news mentions the march the pastor had been yelling about. Daddy turns off the TV and says, "Conny shoulda been at service today. Woulda done her some good." Then he announces he's going to bed early.

Not concerned about his Conny comment, I grab the TV guide and happily take over his couch duty. When Daddy hears the television come back on he stomps into the living room and orders me to bed. Well, it isn't my bedtime and I tell him so. He shouts, "If I tell you to turn that filth off, you turn it off! GO TO BED!"

Filth? Well, I was about to change the channel, but now I need to know what he is talking about. I get ready for bed at lightning speed without another word. After a few minutes in the quiet darkness I tiptoe across my room to the little TV/VCR combo I used to watch my Disney movies. I turn the volume down so low I can barely hear it, but it's okay because what I see is all that matters. Right there on the news for the whole world to view are lesbians and gays holding hands, singing, dancing, waving flags and signs. Some people are old and some are wearing military uniforms. It's not a riot like the pastor made us believe, and it's not just a group either. It's a multitude! I watch as the people chant and smile and wave at the cameras.

I'm only 12 years old, so I don't know shit about stereotypical lesbian looks, all I know is some of the women have a quality all too familiar. They remind me of AC. It starts to come together in my mind. AC is like them. AC is a lesbian. AC is a perverted, sick woman with nasty thoughts about other women. AC is going to be turned away from the kingdom of heaven by God and his army and she will live in eternal fire after death as punishment.

You know what I remember thinking? Why didn't they tell me? Why would my parents passionately agree these people were the Devil's puppets at church and then FAIL to mention we were related to one? I was mad at Mama and Daddy for hiding it from me, but I never told them I knew. The worst part is this: I don't remember when I started hating Aunt Conny. Right now, as I sit in my dorm room, I'm trying to convince myself I didn't start hating her because she is a lesbian.

But what if I did?

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More to come... (◕ˬ◕✿)

To all my fellow lezzies, gays, queers, pans, aces, transqueens, kings & everyone in between. I see you. <3

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Rosie's Diary. Copyright © 2013 Jai//Em

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