Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
By Walter Cessna
“Un-fucking believable,” Misty whispered to herself as the Greyhound bus pulled into the station.
She looked out the window and saw nothing but the fact that she was officially stuck in the middle of nowhere. As the lights went on inside the bus, her view turned into her own reflection and she was faced with her own stony expression of discontent. She took a few seconds to study herself, but wasn’t quite sure if she even liked what she saw.
Her mousy blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail and held together with a plastic tortoise shell clip that she had swiped from her mom and it looked like it. Her gray eyes were flat, dull, almost dead, but her lips were full of joy, constantly giving the impression that she was ecstatic, even if her heart was breaking. She was model thin, yet had a broad, busty chest that almost embarrassed her. She had been planning on a breast reduction since her thirteenth birthday. She sucked in her chest and blew herself a terse kiss.
Now she was eighteen and getting off a Greyhound in the Poconos. How tragic is that, she thought? She tried to spot her cousin in the crowd and not freak the fuck out. But that was impossible. She was almost in shock, not yet prepared for the reality of where her summer was to be spent. This former denizen of Manhattan’s snobby Upper East Side, had been transplanted to the Poconos in the god forsaken state of Pennsylvania. Home of the ultimate tourist trap and once referred to as the poor man’s Catskills. Only Misty wasn’t here on vacation. More like a work furlough.
While all her other friends would be spending their summer before college relishing the new found pleasures of just turning eighteen by partying their asses off, Misty would be working with her sixteen year-old cousin Kristeen at a tacky family resort in the Pocono Mountains as a waitress. This seems odd at first, especially since Misty’s parents were both wealthy and neither was afraid to show it. They displayed their riches in a vulgar, excessive way and it didn’t seem to bother them one bit.
Her dad, Herb, was a lawyer and incapable of any emotion other than the occasional stifled yawn. Her mother, Plum, worked as a fashion editor at Harper’s Bazaar, which meant she was never home and Misty was therefore free to run amok from a rather early age. She had gotten away with more shit than the typical teen-ager for years and a rude awakening was definitely coming. Which kind of explains why she was now about to spend the next three months working her ass off.
Misty had gotten fucked up on Ecstasy at her junior prom and stole her moms brand new Benz for a quick joyride with her best friend, Tar-Jay. Things were going great until they got signaled to pullover while driving down the wrong side of the street on the Lower East Side. Instead of stepping on the brake to stop, Misty put the pedal to the metal and drove right up the curb and into a group of people waiting to get into some super trendy bar.
Misty was peaking on E and could only assemble things in bits and pieces. Tar-Jay got her out of the badly damaged car and sat her down on the sidewalk along side some of her crash victims, one of whom was badly hurt. The police immediately cuffed her and the last thing she recalled was looking over her shoulder as a cop placed his jacket over one of the victim’s heads. That was when Misty fainted.
Thanks to her father’s devious lawyer skills and lack of concern for anything but his about to be ruined family name, Misty got off with a year in a juvenile home for girls and two years probation. She was released on her eighteenth birthday, a few days shy of Memorial Day, but was hardly free. The court stated she had to attend an alcohol and drug rehabilitation program for the first three months of her probation. The bad news was the rehab her parents had found for her was located about two hours outside of New York City in the Poconos. The good news was if she successfully completed the ninety days, the rest of her probation would be dropped.
She had only visited the area once before. Misty’s cousin Kristeen was born there after her parents Dhalia (Plums sister) and Ice had moved to the country from New York City. When their parents died, Dhalia and Plum were each set to inherit a rather large sum, but Plum and Herb pulled something shady and Dhalia was left with next to nothing. Unable to prove her sister and brother in law had wronged her, she left New York City to attend school at Stroudsburg University in the Poconos.
There she met her future husband Ice and they settled down in a log cabin house by Saw Creek and Dhalia completely lost track of her former city life. Kristeen was born a year later, but it wasn’t until she was ten that she met her twelve year old cousin from the city. Plum had reached out to Dhalia and was trying to rekindle the burnt out family’s embers by appearing unannounced at her doorstep with Misty in tow. Dhalia tolerated the visit long enough to “borrow” a few hundred dollars from Plum, whom realizing she would never see it back, chalked it up to her past deviousness and called it karmic payback.
Misty and Kristeen clicked immediately and forged a bond that would come in quite useful one day. That day came on Misty’s release from juvenile hall. She thought she would simply spend the next two years of her probation attending the occasional Alcoholic’s Anonymous meeting. Her parents informed her that the court had ordered her to spend her probation at a drug and alcohol rehab. They also told her, rather bluntly, that they would no longer be supporting her.
After the initial shock Misty realized that her parents didn’t really matter in her life anymore. In reality, they never had, only now she didn’t have to pretend or act like she didn’t notice. Her father bored her and her mother simply was a bore. So much had happened to her while she was in juvenile hall and they never even asked her what it was like. The only person she had been able to confide in was Tar-Jay, to whom she faithfully mailed a letter each week. She simply resigned herself to the fact that she had to make her own way in the world, but first she had to figure a way out of this rehab situation.
She desperately tried to think of a solution and asked Herb if it was mandatory that she resides at the rehab, or could she attend as an outpatient? Herb told her the court’s rules stated she must stay with a family member if not living at the rehab. That was when Misty thought of Aunt Dhalia and phoned her immediately. Dhalia answered the phone and lit one in a long line of Camel cigarettes as she listened patiently to her nieces pleas. After a bit of hesitation, Dhalia said yes on the condition that Misty got a job and earn her keep. She could probably get one with her cousin Kristeen who was already working at a resort when she wasn’t skipping school.
It didn’t take much to convince her parents. She was after-all, eighteen now and they had no control over her life. All she had to do was get through the next three months and she was home free. She had made it this far and nothing was going to stop her now. Within two weeks she had packed or sold off most of her things and kissed Plum goodbye. Herb was in court but had left a check for a hundred bucks on the refrigerator door to help Misty “get started on your new life”.
Whatever. She left the check on the fridge and instead paid for her bus ticket with money she had gotten from selling Herb’s CD collection. Misty figured it would be a nice surprise and thank you for him when he got home. Yeah, like SURPRISE ASSHOLE, FUCKING THANKS FOR NOTHING. Her second surprise was the cell phone she had gotten by pretending to be her mother. By the time Plum would notice the extra charges on her bill, Misty would have made enough money to pay her back. Hopefully. If not, she’d just deal with it when it finally came up.
The bus trip had been thankfully quiet. She had scared off any unwanted seatmates by rudely tossing her handbag onto the empty seat next to her and spent the entire trip curled up asleep. As she walked off the bus, Misty pulled out her cell and made a call that she had been waiting over a year to. It rang almost five times before the familiar voice of her best friend reverberated through the phone.
“Tar-Jay, its Misty.”
“Shit girl, I been waiting on your call! Damn it’s good to hear your voice.”
“Tar-Jay, I am so fucked. In fact, fucked is an understatement.”
“Whas goin’ on girl? Tell Tar-Jay your troubles.”
“Gee...where should I start. How about, I’m stuck in the goddamn fucking Poconos? How about I’ve gotta spend the summer in rehab and let’s not forget my fat freak cousin Kristeen, whom I shall be attached at the hip for the entire time?”
“Chill out Misty, you are hella uptight. I thought you liked Kristeen, that she was your favorite relative?”
“Yeah, when I was twelve. I haven’t seen her since then except in the pictures she keeps e-mailing my mother who doesn’t even open them, but forwards them to me instead. “
“You stop it! Anyway, I wrote her back once and she’s bombarded me with messages ever since. I’ve never returned one of her e-mails, not one. Yet she acts as if I’m her idol. It’s weird and she kinda creeps me out.”
“Sounds to me as if she’s just got a case of cooler older cousin envy.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Misty said as she guided herself towards a bench outside the bus station and tried to determine if any of the rolly poly pod people surrounding her might actually be her relatives.
“Face it, you grew up in the city. Thee City. Where the fuck is she from? The Poconuts? What the fuck is the name of that town you’re cousin lives in, Bushwhack? Bushhunt?”
“Bushkill. Mother fucking Bushkill.”
“I rest my case,” Tar-Jay smickered as he put Misty temporarily on hold. When he got back on he was coughing, hacking really.
“Tar-Jay were you just smoking out?” Misty demanded as Tar-Jay continued to hack and laugh fiercely.
“Whatever, Miss Thing. You’re just jealous cause you can’t smoke anymore due to your friggin weekly piss test.”
“You are so cold Tar-Jay. Yes, I’m jonesing and it sucks not being able to get stoned, but I’ve only got three more months of good behavior to go, so don’t fuck me up.”
“Fuck you up?”
“Mentally. I’m finally getting my head into a good place and I need your support, not your spite.” There was a long, uncomfortable silence and then Tar-Jay did the right thing.
“I’m sorry, you know I’m just fucking with you. You’re my girl, you know? It’s been crazy without you. Things just ain’t the same.”
“I miss you Tar-Jay. Are you gonna come visit me?”
“Girl, you check out the scene first and let me know if the coast is clear for visitation and shit. If it’s all good, I will most certainly drag my faggot ass out to the country. Are there any cute boys there?”
“I just got off the fucking bus and all I can see are Wal-Mart wearing pod people and their ilk. Oh my God, one of them is waving at me.”
“I think your number has finally been called. Misty?”
“What,” Misty asked nervously, caving in to a sudden sadness that gripped her entire body.
“Don’t let it get to you girl. I love you, but what’s more important, love yourself. Even if it kills you. At least you’re finally away from your parents. They’re such snobs you won’t have to worry about them visiting you.”
Misty laughed at Tar-Jay’s more than true joke and looked for the right way to say goodbye as a group of four quickly approached her.
“Tar-Jay, if you don’t hear from me in one week you’ll know that I’ve been turned into a fat, K-mart clothed fat deer hunting redneck that picks up fresh road kill for dinner.”
Tar-Jay was not having it.
“Excuse me, Ms. Dramatic in Effect! You need to take a deep breath and give it a...”
Misty clicked off the phone just as her cousin Kristeen threw her arms around her in a huge bear hug. Her Aunt Dahlia and Uncle Ice joined in the love-fest and it was all Misty could do to keep from passing out. A small, skinny girl with huge, Japanimae eyes skirted the background, offering a slight smile, but no hug. Misty was finally released and realized this was the beginning of the end. Hers.
“I told you she was gonna be skinny ma.”
“I know ya did honey, I know it. Misty girl, you sure are skinny!”
Misty just looked at them in horror as she collected her bags and struggled to keep up with the conversation. Her uncle was next on the comment roster.
“Well she sure ain’t no skinny minnie up where it counts!”
“Ice!” growled Aunt Dahlia.
“Dad, you are so gross! Misty, don’t pay him any mind. My father is a confirmed pervert, but lord knows he’s never done anything improper.”
“That’s nice,” Misty replied as she noticed that the other girl was staring rather intensely at her.
“Who are you?” Misty nearly demanded, knocking the girl out of her trance and causing her to stumble backwards.
“That’s Jenna. She works with me at the resort,” answered Kristeen as she grabbed the bags from Mistys startled hands and shoved her towards Jenna.
“Hi, I’m Misty,” she said as she extended her hand towards this curious girl. But instead of taking it, Jenna grabbed Misty and brought her lips close to her ear.
“I am so fucked up on Ritalin right now.”
“Yes,” Jenna continued in a whisper, “I’m totally gakked. If I do anything weird will you cover me? They don’t know I’m high.”
Welcome to the Poconos, Misty thought to herself, but looked Jenna knowingly in the eye since she had been there a million times before.
“Don’t worry kid, I got your back.”
“You rock, thanks.”
And with that seemingly easy deposit of trust, Misty and Jenna got into the backseat of Ice’s bright red Jeep Wrangler. Kristeen wedged her way between them and spread into the middle of the seat like a large mass of unleavened dough. Misty looked over at Jenna who was giggling and blinking at her. Misty returned the wink and chuckled herself.
“This is going to be the best summer ever Misty,” Kristeen suddenly announced, almost as if to her-self. “I’ve got it all planned out, you’ll me amazed!”
Misty’s chuckle turned to an uncomfortable cough and she looked out the window as they drove in silence through the thick green mountains that looked like they had popped out of a fairy tale. The stars twinkling in the sky made it seem as if anything could still come true, if you believed hard enough, that is. Misty closed her eyes as Kristeen continued to babble on, drowning her out with nothing but thoughts of her own future. For the moment that was enough.
An hour later they arrived at the house. It was an old school log cabin, gorgeous and big and really rustic looking. It was for lack of a better word, idyllic. This might not be so bad, Misty thought, until she walked through the front door and was greeted with reality on a mass destruction scale. Her relatives lived like pigs. The inside of the house gave new meaning to the term shabby chic and none of the definition was positive.
Misty was instructed to room with Kristeen and they would have to share a double-bed. Misty was not thrilled with this, but Kristeen was ecstatic.
“I’ve never had anyone but Jenna stay over before and she hogs the bed!” Kristeen blurted as they entered her room. Jenna was following close behind. There was a sleeping bag unrolled on the floor with a large stuffed Tweety Bird doll tucked under it. Jenna immediately headed for it and plucked the doll up into her arms.
“Kristeen, lock your door,” Jenna said as she sat down on the floor cross-legged and began to fumble with her Tweety. Kristeen shot her a knowing look and did as asked. Kristeen took Misty by the hand and lead her over to Jenna where they joined her on the floor. Jenna had opened a slit in the back of Tweety Bird’s head and pulled out a glass pipe and a small clear plastic baggie of some sort of white substance. Misty started to grow visibly uncomfortable, but tried not to give herself away.
“What’s that?” Misty asked.
“Crank. You know, crystal,” answered Jenna.
“Like meth, crystal?”
“Yeah. Everybody up here is gakked on the shit,” cut in Kristeen. “We started smoking it a few months ago and things have been hella wild.”
“Hella whata?” Misty asked as she watched Jenna expertly fill the pipe and proceed to take a deep long toke of the foul smelling speed. She offered it to Kristeen who took a deep drag of her own, then exhaled directly in Misty’s unamused face. Misty stood up and tried to breathe away from the acrid air engulfing the other two girls. Kristeen tried to offer her the pipe, but Misty swatted it away, sending it crashing on the floor underneath the bed.
“That is so fucked up!” Jenna seethed.
“Whatever. I can’t be smoking no fucking tweek,” said Misty. “I get drug tested every week and I am not about to go to jail for breaking my probation.”
“Oh shit, I forgot. I’m sorry Misty, we just thought you’d be down and shit,” said Kristeen, sounding kind of lame. Jenna didn’t even attempt sincerity.
“That’s cool, more for me,” chuckled Jenna as she opened the baggie and sprinkled a mound of crystal on her fist then snorted it in one fitful sweep.
Misty couldn’t believe her luck. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to get high. She was desperate to. Only now she was stuck with these two crazy girls who were getting gakked right in fucking front of her. How long would she be able to resist the temptation, if at all.
Jenna finally put the pipe away, but she was acting sketchy and shit and it was bugging Misty out. Kristeen didn’t seem to be high at all. Maybe it was because of her extremely large size or she had an unbelievably high tolerance for drugs, but the girl did not seem as fucked up to Misty as Jenna did. Suddenly Aunt Dhalia breezed into the room, surprising all three girls at once.
“Misty, you have to be at the rehab by eight tomorrow morning,” Aunt Dhalia perkily announced. What kinda happy pills is this one taking, Misty thought to herself and where can I get some.
“Thanks Aunt Dhalia,” Misty politely replied. She noticed Kristeen was poking through her bags so she walked over to her and tried to nicely move them away. It was too late. Kristeen had managed to pull the one thing out of her bag that was sure to cause a storm of conversation. Her dildo. You see, Misty had gone through some interesting changes in juvi, but they were changes that would have happened no matter where she was. Misty had discovered that she liked girls.
No, she loved girls. She loved to lick them on the backs of their necks and the insides of their thighs. She like to stick her tongue down their throats and stick her fingers deep into their wet horny pussies. But Misty’s favorite sexual shtick was to fuck a girl with her big hot pink dildo while she kissed them hard and long on the lips until they both came with a completely crushing climax.
The thing was nobody knew her secret. Not even Tar-Jay. She had started fooling around with this older girl in juvi who had initially tried to screw around with her in the shower once. Misty had resisted but had discovered herself thinking more and more about the pretty butch girl. They finally connected a few weeks later and Misty pretty much became her bitch till she got out.
Now, she was bitchless and horny, but stuck in this strange hell with these two gakked out teenagers. And one of them was waving her dildo around like a god damn baton. Aunt Dhalia was not amused.