Chinatown Rose

My earliest memory is that of my mother crying and of my attempts to comfort her. Maybe I was five, yeah, I must have been five... because it was on my sixth birthday that it happened for the first time. I blew out the candles on my cake. I remember tilting my head back in a glorious laugh. Why did mom keep one eye covered the entire time of my party? My Uncle whispered he'd give me my present later. My mom saw him whispering to me and left the room. I was praying for a "Glenna Cries-a-lot Doll" -- I knew I could make her feel alright. I kept asking for my present, but Uncle just kept saying, "Later!" Finally, my mother tucked me into bed, and whispered how much she loved me. When I asked her if Uncle had forgotten my present, she just turned and walked out of the room. My eyes were getting so heavy -- then I heard the door open! My gift! Uncle whispered that he had to blindfold me for the surprise. He tied something around my eyes and said that even though we were alone, I had to be very, very quiet. I agreed, although I didn't understand why. He pulled down the covers. I thought at first he was going to take me by the hand to go see my present. But instead I felt him pull up my pajamas and tug off my panties. I kicked and he slapped my bottom very hard. I started crying. He opened my legs, I could tell he had a flashlight. He stayed still for the longest time. I tried to go to sleep. Maybe I did. Maybe I just had a bad dream. But I remember his mouth down there and his fingers. I felt my body shudder strangely -- and he said for my seventh birthday he'd give me something extra, extra special, but it would be our secret. Did I remember my mom's crying and her face? I had better never, ever, tell anyone that he was my Guardian Angel. Okay? I whispered, "Okay." He tucked me in and kissed me on the forehead. I could hear him telling someone on the other side of my door, "That was sweet. Next year you can have Monica." My cousin was five! Now I knew why mother was always cursing God. I couldn't let myself cry. I think that was the first time that I saw Her. She was suddenly at the foot of my bed. I couldn't move. She came to my side and held out a Rose for me to smell... and so the years passed. My birthday presents became worse -- and then they became several times a week. I lived numb. I was tested for a learning disability at school. I pretended to be dumb. I would stand out on the playground and stare at the sky. When other kids would ask what I was doing, I would say I was looking for my Rose. They would laugh and taunt me. But they couldn't hurt me. I was made of steel. I was as hard as a rock. I was definitely harder than what he shoved inside me. I was going to turn fourteen on Saturday. I felt myself getting stronger everyday. Mother stopped talking years ago. I was alone except for Her and the Rose. Every time she held the Rose to my face, I felt life and hope surge into me. They were fools for treating me like an idiot-girl! When he came into my room again, I swung my feet to the floor and told him to leave and never come back. I told him that I would fight him with an army of angels -- maybe I said devils -- beside me. I snarled and jumped up at him! He ran out of my room and I never saw him again! I was free! What I don't remember is how I ended up in this tent in Chinatown... yeah, it was me. I heard them shuffling frantically about saying he was dead, that he had overdosed. I scrambled out of my tent, climbing over some idiot's body to get out. Sure enough, Gabriel had stopped breathing. I started CPR. I yelled for someone to call 911. It took forever, but I felt life tugging at me, he was pulling at my life, trying to come back, trying to come back... then the ambulance arrived. They said I saved his life. I just said I gave him my Rose. I think I'll go to Oregon maybe. It's time to start a new life. Yeah, it's time...

Based on a True Story

-- Robert Daniel Smith

Inside a lover's heart there is another world, and yet another inside the friend of this community of lovers, an ear that interprets mystery, a vein of silver in the ground, another sky. -- Rumi