Lolita: A New Beginning

Chapter III

   American school systems differ tremendously to English ones. Mother graduated top of her class and spoke at the ceremony as her schools Valedictorian. She left the day after graduation at eighteen, with 600 US dollars in pocket and a bag of clothes. The first place she wanted to go was London.
   I never asked why she picked London- the city is ten times the size of Deering. Had I not grown up there, I would be intimidated by the size alone. Taking into consideration with the wildness of 1970- Anarchy at its finest- I wonder how she survived a night alone.
   She never talked about before she met Father. Every story she told somehow involved him. She would talk about Berlin and how frantically amazed he was when the wall fell. She would talk about the many wine villas they visited on their honeymoon in Italy. Their pre-me holiday to Iceland. But never pre-Karl.
Mother never missed a moment to call out her father, though. It didn't matter what she was doing, or who she was with. Once, when I was thirteen, our family went to visit Oma and Opa Keller, my mother did nothing but act pissy because Dad had both parents- and she had 'none'.
   One time, just after Dad's death, I awoke in the middle of the night to find my mother sleeping next to me. She had passed out with a bottle of whisky hanging in her hand, almost tipping. I nudged her awake, asking if she wants some sleepwear.
   Her drunk manner was angry and confused. She slowly turned to me before slurring her entire sentence.
   "Okay Lolita."
   It was my first hearing of the word. At first I brushed it off, thinking her brain was far too gone to say my name correct. She was piss drunk in my bed at four in the morning.
   "Okay Mum, slowly." I helped her up, pulling the fancy blouse over her messy bed head and the few necklaces she wore. I put a tee shirt my father wore on weekends over her bare chest.
   I didn't give her trousers, letting her fall to the pillow to sleep everything off. Just as I had gotten back under the toasty bed sheets, I heard sniffling.
   "I know Mum. I miss him too." I whispered.
   Her two arms snake the bed, finding my waist, and pulling me to her. I tuck my head into her chest, letting her wet face sit on my head.
"I'm glad you got the time you did with him. I just wish he took more notice of his family at the end. I would love to have met my mother. If she hadn't died maybe my family would still be-"she stops her sentence.
I felt every sob she held in. Every 1 euro cent shaped tear that fell to my forehead. All of her sadness leaked from her pores to mine.
  I should have paid more attention to the name she called me. I should have remembered it- that damned name.
|| ||
The morning came and went.
I spend most of the day preparing my room. Richard explained he had set the room up even after my mother left for the US. He had hopes she would return- but I guess nothing can bring her back if only I'm here.
   I took the posters down, enjoying the plain white walls with one orange. It's different. I pushed almost all of the old clothes to the back, finding a few pieces I would most definitely put in my collection. I replace the photos of Mother and mystery boy with ones of Dom and I, or Avery and I, or all three of us.
   Lastly, I decide to change the bedding. I was able to get my royal blue Egyptian Cotton Sateen 1,020 thread count sheets to fit with my bags and shoes. I cover the pillows with embroidered cases that hold my initials.
   Everything sits in its place by time the sun begins to set. I have been sitting in my room for hours reading my Bible. Never leaving the four walls since seeing the man with daunting eyes.
I had been far too shocked by his sudden appearance and beauty to say anything. Standing with a slight shake from the air kissing my sticky body.
   He didn't introduce himself, carrying on with bringing me a glass of water and pain killers. He just placed them on the vanity, walking out as fast as he came.
   I hadn't gotten him off my mind since. Who is he? Where did he come from? Why hadn't Pilip mention him? I almost don't realize my feet are taking me to the door until I'm down the hall and down the stairs to the living room. It's as if my feet know the floor plan before my mind does.
Sitting in the chair Pilip said he would be is Richard. He's reading a book, while smoking from a small pipe. He wears what I can only assume most Alaskans wear, a flannel jacket with jeans.
Now that I see him like this, calm and relaxed, I see just how much Mother looks like him. They have similar resting smiles, and slender noses. Their hair is close to being the same- Mother's is just more red- while they both hold height in their legs.
More music plays from a record player in the corner of the room. Conway Twitty sings softly while Wheel of Fortune plays on the telly. A smell I've never smelled before comes from the kitchen just down the hall. The whole house is alive. It feels like before. It's a good feeling.
"Ah! Lola, how long have you been there? You may turn the channel if you'd like- but I gotta say, there isn't anything else." Richard laughs, pulling a marker to keep his page, before closing the book and turning to me.
"Oh- erm- not long. I'm sorry, I just wanted to ask if Pilip got home well?" I ask, looking around the room.
My boot clad feet walk around the room stopping at anything interesting: a small rabbit skull, cool ancient arrow heads, and pictures. I stop dead in my tracks as I look closer to the photo. Picking it up, I see a young couple in front of a rickety old home in the desert. The woman looks young- my age- with a large tummy. She's dressed in a large floral printed dress.
"Yes he did. His wife was more worried about you than him." Richard laughs. "But he made it back just fine."
She's stunning, I can see that even with the age of the photo and distance from the camera. She isn't innocent looking, but more strong. She looks like shes seen some shite. The man is handsome and strong in build. He's holding her like she's his lifeline. He's Richard.
"That's my Dolly. Delores, but I called her Dolly. Your mother named you after her." Richard speaks from just behind me. There is this edge in his voice as he says 'Delores'.
"I'm sorry you lost her so young Mr. Keller. I would have fancied meeting her."
He takes the unframed photo from me, looking to it with so much adoration and love, I think he might cry. His eyes stay on the woman, looking to her as if for answers.
"Me too." He whispers.
   Instantly, his mood changes. He puts the picture away, turning to me with a smile as he smacks his lips together, "Please, call me Dick or Richard or Grandpa."
I smile, following him back to the sitting area. He picks up his book. I watch his every move, trying to find something to hate about him. He doesn't seem at all like the monster Mother made up.
   "How about Pops?"
   He stops reading, and looks directly to me, a warm smile creasing his smile lines, creating dimples, "Yeah. I like that."
I didn't ask about Blue Eyes. I couldn't; Richard asked one million questions about me. He wanted to know my favourite colour, my mates, what London was like. He sat, his book open and waiting in his lap, but his attention was on me completely.
He was inquisitive and persistent on seeing if I grew up well, "And do you go to church? Do ya volunteer? Was she fair?"
His last question catches me off guard- why did he care if she was fair? And how would a parent even be fair? She was never really there. She couldn't be fair if she didn't care.
"Yes. Yes, and yes." I lie through my teeth. I decided it's best if he didn't know how she truly was. After all, most wasn't a lie; I am active with my church- well was- as well as a very frequent volunteer through said church. I like helping- as the Gospel speaks it.
"That's good. Yes, I think it is." He whispers to himself. He hits off his pipe, quickly going back to reading.
   I take that as the end of our conversation. I slowly get up, walking to the hallway, deciding to familiarize myself with my new 'home'. Going the opposite way of the kitchen, I wander a lone hall finding two light varnished doors. One leads to a toilet. It's forest themed, with a small sink.
The second leads to a room. It's unlit, but the light from the hall lets me see a proper amount. The smell is instantly welcomed. The newly familiar manly musk and vanilla invades my senses, inviting me in. I walk to the bed, finding the same duvet that introduced me to the new place, tucked and made perfectly.
   My hand traces the fabric as I look around the lit area. A desk and chair sit front of a wall of pictures. Pictures of mountains, rivers, and forests litter the board. There are pictures of a mother bear with her two cubs. Pictures of people dressed in traditional garments, dancing with furs and drums. Whales coming up for breath in the middle of the ocean.
   I grab one, looking to see Blue Eyes standing on a mountain cliff, the sun bright and shining over water and trees. His body is sitting on the edge, a dog perched just by his side.
   Maps and tools for navigation lay on the desk. Everything has a place, neat but messy. Why would a picture of him be here?
   A loud bang is heard from what sounds like the kitchen. I jump, running straight out the door and as far from the room as possible. I jet up steps, and to my room before exhaling a breath I didn't know I was holding.
   I close the door, landing on the backside. My breath jagged and tight. Relaxing, I try breathing exercises, slowly calming my erratic heart.
   In my hand, is a picture I didn't know I was still holding. Beginning to feel guilty of something, I run to the vanity trying to find the perfect place to hide any evidence. Like magic, my eyes go to the floor underneath the furniture. I spot a green book peaking from under.
   "Perfect."
   I reach out, taking the book by the spine. The next thing I see sends chills down my spine. 'Lolita, or the Confession of a White Widowed Male' is pressed into the hard cover. A silver paint glistening the word I thought was ignorant.
   "Lola, supper is ready!" Richard calls from the hall.
   Heat rises up my neck as I begin to feel sick. "Erm- oh-okay! I'll be right down!" I shout back nervously.
   "Are you okay dear?"
   Panic floods my whole being. I shove the photo in the middle of the book, throwing it under my bed. I run to my door. Throwing it open, I scare Richard.
   "Yeah Pops. Why wouldn't I be?" I ask out of breath.
   I cling to the side of the door frame, holding my balance with the door. "I was just exercising." I say, coming off as more of a question.
   He looks at me clothes, his forehead creasing with question. "You were exercising in jeans and a windbreaker?"
   "I forgot my gym garments." I'm quick to rebuttal. It's not a full lie- I don't wear gym garments because I don't go to the gymnasium.
   "Well-" he looks around in my room from above me, "Jimmy made his cod. I think you'll love it. Every woman in this family did. Like cod that is." He speaks fast, confusing me for a moment. His American accent tripping me up every few words.
Pulling me from out the door, I follow on his heels to the room connected to the kitchen. A giant round table with six chairs around holds a large plate of fish with small bowls of vegetables. Five plates are already made, with a glass of water by each.
A deer antler chandler hangs just above, casing a warm glow over the sitting chairs. I find a spot, sitting closest to the exit. A habit in foreign places.
"Why are there five plates?" I ask, looking around.
Right as Richard is about to answer, the door bell rings through the home. "I've got it!" Comes from the kitchen. Loud and assertive.
   The whole time I've been here- a feeble twenty-nine hours- there hasn't been a single hint to a dog; but as the door opens and feet smack against the floor, three sets of growls and yips run passed the hall and to the front.
   "You have pups?" I squeak, sounding younger than seventeen. My leg is bent, sitting on the seat, as I turn fully around, to see what Richard is doing.
   "Ah- Yeah! I do! Twelve- but most stay in the barn. I'll go see what's taking them so long." He says, pulling his hands from his pockets as he walks away.
   As I wait, I take my windbreaker off, letting my cute cropped, pine stripped shirt with a giant heart on the chest. It's tight and looks well cool with my highwaist jeans. I had taken my shoes off wanting to feel more at home. Mismatched socks kick under the table as I sit impatiently. My back slides down the chair as I cross my arms and huff.
   "Jättää!" The voice from before shouted. Suddenly three balls of fur run passed the room again, to God knows where.
Richard talks with a feminine voice giggling softly. The first body to enter is none other than Blue Eyes. His black long sleeve is taught, showing just how fit he is. I gulp, instantly taking my eyes off of him. Pilip is next, walking right to a chair.
Richard enters with a beautiful woman. Her long black hair bounces with volume over her exposed tanned skin, as she spots me instantly.
"You must be Lola!" She gushes, "I've heard so much about you! I'm happy Maggie decided to finally let Dick see you." She says, pulling my body straight as she bear hugs me.
I feel eyes on me as I try being released. "It's- swell- to meet- you too.." I gasp out.
She pulls away, letting me breath, "Sedna- but everyone calls me Sis," She whispers before finding her eyes on the food, "Yes! What a great way to start off this season with you, Cod!" Sis cheers, running to sit beside Pilip.
   "Erm- what's going on Richard?" I pull back, still feeling eyes on me. I don't dare look to see who they belong to, knowing it can only be one person.
   "I wanted something nice for your first night here. Do you not like it? Is it too much?" He asks, desperation for acceptance clear as day.
"No, nonsense! It's really- well thank you Pops for this introduction. I think I might fancy Alaska more than I thought." I smile letting my eyes sneak a single glance to Blue Eyes, who drops his blonde head fast, tossing food around his plate awkwardly with his fork. "It cant be worse than Germany- Especially with when the wall was still up."
   Richard nervously laughs, ushering me to take a seat. I sit hastily to the right of B.E. and the left of Richard. He says a prayer for thanks, "Father, Praise You for the life that You provide. Thank You for meeting our physical needs of hunger and thirst," my eyes fly to the body beside me. "Forgive us for taking that simple joy for granted, and bless this food to fuel our bodies forward into Your will for our lives."
Richard stands, looking down to me as he speaks now, "And Thank You kind Lord for bringing my granddaughter home." He puts his right hand on my shoulder, smiling as he did with the picture, at me, "In Jesus' Name, Amen."
|| ||
Sedna (Sis) portrayed by Nicole Scherzinger

Dinner prayer: https://www.crosswalk.com/faith/prayer/prayers/10-prayers-for-before-meals-short-simple-beautiful.html (short, simple, and beautiful- just how I like my prayers!) *said because am not believer*

Jättää in Finnish should mean 'to lay'- but I only barley speak German and am American, so god forbid that be right!
🌚