Juniper

Chapter I

"You shall have no other gods before me."

Exodus 20:3

The sun was rising for yet another hazy and looming day. Appearing over the 405 in the year of 1978. In the masses a russet red and white Ford truck with yellow scuffs can be found blazing down the way. We see it venture around the city in a haphazard manner. Harry, the lack luster truck hat and flannel wearing male, was driving his low libido wife to a place no one dare speak of. His little wife, Bea, leaned her head on the glass staring out into a world that she longed to know because she wanted to be anywhere but here, with Harry, who was sadly her Harry. She sat there silently cursing herself for marrying him that one winter day three years ago. Appearing relaxed to any onlooker but with her head leaning against the glass, while they were driving on the bumpy streets, it felt like her brain was being blended and she was most definitely gritting her teeth thinking about exactly how she got here.

It was 1975 when she had decided to have a winter wedding to spite her mother as she was already angry that her mother had won the marriage debate anyway. Her mother said that would be all Bea would ever be good for, marriage and children and that was about it. She was three years into her Texaco cash register career when she met Harry. Harry was a regular at the bar she frequented with Charlene and Pam after work. He and his leather jacket and Harley-Davidson seduced her even though she wouldn't dare admit it. She beat him at a game of pool and he bought her a beer and so their saga began with their cigarettes in hand.

He was a mechanic for some sort of manufacturer just at the edge of the city. Harry didn't say much. He was Protestant, which Bea knew would drive her Catholic mother absolutely mad, which made him just that much more appealing. His favorite topic when he did talk was how he wanted to take care of Bea and how they should get married already. The man would always bring it up so nonchalantly swooping his long greasy hair back. Bea had her bogus job and felt like she wasn't moving forward anyhow. She never thought growing up that she would feel this way. She had dreamed of working hard for a career. School became an obscure option when her father had fallen ill. She needed a change and she thought that this would be the way to do it. Harry seemed like a decent enough guy who cared about her. He was also the first guy who was interested in her since she was a teenager. She felt as though she had no other choices out there. That she wasn't pretty enough and she began to worry about how she was getting older. She wanted to settle and that is exactly what happened. Her settling and insecurity did not get her where she wanted, surprise, surprise.

Her settling wouldn't be too surprising to anyone that observed, studied, or knew Beatrice; who would be known by many aliases thereafter. Her first would be Beatrice Carpenter as Harry's dutiful wife but before that costume she was Beatrice Martinez. Beatrice Martinez grew up in a three bedroom house in Glendale to an overbearing zealot mother and a quiet but whipping hard time of a father and her three older sisters, Raquel, Valerie, and Debra who of course all outshined that tiny godforsaken mouse. Raquel was known as the pretty one. She moved out at fifteen to try to make it out in Hollywood with her boyfriend Brett but became addicted to the rush hour; that hell dust that reigned supreme in the sixties. They hailed it as an epidemic even. After shooting up one day she made it to her car turned it on with the windows rolled up in the garage of the duplex her and Brett shared at the time. She passed out and a new light shined on her soul and Brett's too since after he found her he ran frantically into the kitchen and slipped and of course cracked his head open on the island corner before being able to reach for the red cord telephone, tragic. Then there was vicious Valerie who married a spineless accountant named Gary. Poor gutted Gary, who was already balding, since Valerie stressed him out so much he began to pluck out his own frizzy curls mindlessly. They moved to Michigan to never be seen again. She wrote to her mother though twice a week on the dot. She loved her mother, punctuality, and consistency. Now Deb was Bea's favorite and was a real salt of the earth type of gal. She was the protector and playmate of the gang growing up. She was a debate queen and a boss brownie turned girl scout. Her fearlessness gave her, her career of being a top notch lawyer in Philadelphia circa 1973. Deb was busy and didn't visit much or even call for that matter but Bea understood and loved her from afar anyway. And Bea, well, she wasn't very good at anything. She was just known as the little sister. The one to forget.