All I Knew

All I knew was we never played in the pool anymore. All I knew was the boat still didn’t work. As I pressed my forehead to the sliding glass doors looking across our back lawn, all I knew was that even the sunshine seemed to be from another time.

All I knew was I liked dad’s old car better. All I knew was I had nothing to wear to school. All I knew was that static blared from the channels where my cartoons were supposed to be.

All I knew was that my brother’s clothes fit me ok, that other girls had plaid scrunchies that matched their plaid skirts, that “window-shopping” was just a way of seeing everything I wanted, encased in glass.

All I knew was that the seconds after a cashier swiped mom’s credit card were starting to feel like waiting for a verdict, and she sent me to look at the candy machines before the verdict came down.

All she said was, “We’re rich in love, right honey?”

All I knew was that the car was stalling again, if the needle on the dashboard fell between the 2 and the 1. All I knew was the power was going out again, when the man in the uniform came through the bushes near my bedroom window. All I knew was that I now had parents who fought, when the tense voices reached through the wall. I could never quite make out the words.

All I knew was that a dollar of gas could get us home. All I knew was that barbecue sauce on bread was better than asking mom why there was nothing else. All I knew was that it filled me with panic when I opened the washer and found dad’s work clothes covered in pen marks. All I knew was that we could not afford mistakes.

All I knew was that the mail was stamped with red words, and mean people called the house, mispronouncing my dad’s name, saying that he had to call back immediately about a very urgent matter. All I knew was that all of life felt like being in trouble.

All I knew was it felt so wrong and weak, the way he held the phone close and said in a lifeless voice I’d never heard, “Yes. Please.”

All I knew was the worst sound ever was my mom’s voice sobbing. All I knew was that my sister never laughed. All I knew was things were getting worse, and since this was my introduction to the idea that life could get bad at all, I had no way of knowing just how bad things might get.

All he said was any day now, the deal was coming in.

Any day now.

All I knew was that the dock was rotting. But I still wanted to see the water. I ventured out alone. The wood planks cracked. They broke, and swallowed my leg. I sat there with the splintered shards biting into my thigh, stinging and scared, and all I knew was that no one was coming to save me.