The Nameless Namesake
It was broad daylight. The parking lot was busy. I sat there trying to make up my mind. I kept telling myself that if I could drive there then I could drive home, but I didn’t feel so good. I was gonna throw up again. Uhhhhh. I grabbed the steering wheel for leverage. I could feel the gurgle from my stomach move towards my esophagus. Soon some poisonous anesthetic toxin would burn my throat making all the memories flood back and I’d feel like crap all over again. As the car quietly idled, I moved my hand towards the seat buckle and clicked it open. I reached for the door handle, so I could yank or maybe even kick open the door. Spewing the day’s events onto the pavement was not the highlight of my day. “Keep it between the yellow lines.” I heard him say from the seat on the right.
*
James McMiller. Oh yeah. Ninth grade baby and James McMiller was who I had my sight set on. That is of course if one can have their sight set on another human being in a sexual way at thirteen. I was lovestruck. He was just my type. If I knew what my type was. I daydreamed about what I could do to him. I mean kiss and hug him that is. I didn’t know about anything else, not at thirteen. I mean kissing and hugging wasn’t necessarily going to make me hell-bound but anything else… well it’s like this: GOD IS ALWAYS WATCHING! What a mind screw. I mean how is that good sex advice for a thirteen-year-old? Yeah no, it’s not. One night I found myself at a party and in a bathroom all alone with James McMiller. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I hadn’t ever kissed anyone before. One minute the lights were on and the next they were off. Once it went dark it was like some sweaty werewolf jumped on me and was trying to suffocate me with his face. “Stand up.” Wait no. “Sit down.” On the toilet? Eeww no. That’s just gross. “Lay down. On the floor.” Okay maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, but it’s happening!!
*
Keep it between the yellow lines. Is he kidding me? I didn’t know whether I should yell or say nothing. In a matter of seconds, I decided saying nothing was a far better direction to take. I was coughing it all up and leaning outside the car door of my old beat-up green Volkswagen Jetta. That car saw things and now it was seeing me, but so was everyone else. Once I finished with one last hack up, I looked around and noticed that I was sitting in a bustling parking lot and people were definitely staring at me. They knew what I had done.
*
As I walked into the cement building that was void of any kind of identification distinction, I found my way through the maze of unmarked doors and stumbled into the reception area of the office. “Hello dear. How can we help you?” She seemed like a kind lady. A bit older in age. A couple of wrinkles or maybe expression lines that showed her vintage. I was scared. I mean scared in that I didn’t know what the heck I was doing. “Dear, did the doctor give you something to give to me?” She had this creepy, but kind face. She knew what I was there for and she knew I was embarrassed. “Yes,” I said. “Here it is.” I reached into the back pocket of my hand-me-down no-name blue jeans and pulled out some notes scribbled on a prescription sheet. I handed them to her and our eyes locked. She gave me this smile that said: I’m sorry for you but you’re probably doing the right thing. “Okay hun. Why don’t you grab a seat, and we’ll call you in a bit.” I walked to the first open seat I could spot. When I initially walked into the room, I hadn’t the time to take inventory of the crowd, but once I sat in the worn-out foam seat, I realized we were all there for the same reason. Literally all of us were there for the same reason.
*
Tony LoPorto. Biggest dirtbag in town. No job. No life. Nothing. Couldn’t even finish high school until he was twenty-two. What did a silly little sixteen-year-old know anyway? He said he liked me. I was cute, funny, smart, so okay I was game. He wanted to show me things I didn’t know about. Yeah, he did alright. He showed me what a drug dealing no-goal loser looked like. At a measly five-foot two inches he resembled the arcade version of Mario from the video game franchise. He was more like the original 1981 version that first showed up in Donkey Kong, but his kong was definitely not impressive. This time GOD WAS WATCHING though, and I was in deep. That kid helped me book a first-class ticket to hell for all the naughty dirty things we did. And we did it everywhere. It wasn’t just standing up or sitting down; we were always lying down. You name it, we did it; cars, bathrooms, parks, dirty old sheds, abandoned houses…it didn’t matter. It all just kinda happened and then it didn’t.
*
I could feel my butt starting to form a symbiotic relationship with the foam seat. We were becoming one. I began to lose track of time as I sat in that cold and unsettling waiting room. I was alone. Well, kinda. At ten o’clock as the sun really started to peek in through the windows the truth started to show itself. The white blinds that tried to keep the light and everything else outside finally showed what was happening inside. Those blinds had so much dust accumulated on them it was obvious that place never had a professional cleaning. The faces of everyone sitting in those chairs all looked the same. Grim. Tired. Anxious. Scared. It was like staring into a mirror. I started to feel uncertain about why I was there. What had I done to deserve all this? Oh yeah, I was a dumb butt. I didn’t use my good judgement. All of the negative thoughts started to rush in. What could I have done differently? What if I said no and I mean really said no?
What if, what if, what if.
Names started to get called. I could feel my body, no not my body, my soul began to quiver. This was it. My face started getting hot and I had to hold back the tears. I was going to do this; I had to. I had no money, no food, no place to live, no way of doing this. I mean I barely weighed one hundred pounds. My meager and frail frame could not go through with it. One of us would certainly die. It wouldn’t be fair for anyone. Later down the road when I was ready, I could do all of this for real. That would be the best thing for everyone.
The door swung open, and another group of names were read aloud. I think I hear mine but all the noise in my head muffled all other sounds. She said the names again and looked in my direction. She smiled gently and gingerly opened her arm out as if to welcome me. I took a deep breath. I stood up. You can do this.
I was taken to a room that was the size of a dressing room or closet. I had to remove everything which would be placed in a bag that would be waiting for me when it was all over.
I walked down a hallway where institutional white and gray colors were painted everywhere my eyes seemed to settle. No light, no life, nothing existed in that place. I was waiting; waiting for what, I was not sure. The same sweet nurse finally came to get me. She told me they wanted one last picture. Oh, great one last memory to save and have.
I was laying down. Back met metal and feet were in the stirrups. My skin shuddered from the pang of coldness that breached well into my bones. Goose bumps officially made an entrance. My head fell off to the right and I stared at the wall pretending to be somewhere else, anywhere else. “There we are,” she said. “Go ahead take a look dear.” I knew if I did, it wouldn’t be good. I mean what was the point. But I did. I looked. She took the pointer finger on her left hand and placed it on the screen, “You can barely see anything, so this should be easy.” Yeah, she was right. But I still saw it. The machine printed out a copy for the file. “Can I have one too?” I blurted out. I hadn’t even considered my reason for wanting it. “Hmm well we’re not supposed to.” Her sorrowful gaze finally made her seem like a real human being with feelings. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise. I’ll just put it away and I won’t tell anyone.” I was hoping she might budge and let it slide just this once. “Well okay, but it has to be our little secret.” She offered me this cheerful wink as she handed me the picture.
I roamed the halls until she took me to another room to wait. After a while, I saw a hand. A left hand with a wedding ring and band pushed open a white creaky door to yet another room. It was like Dante’s worst nightmare with layer after layer of hellish stratums where I was to be examined. “Okay dear let’s lay here and try to get comfortable.” I finagled my body onto the cold steel table. A thin piece of tissue paper gently draped over the rectangular metallic medical slab as if to dress up the place. I laid down and stared at the ceiling and thought that things would never be the same. You’ll be damaged. Impure. Wasted. Unwanted. Immoral. Unchaste. Tainted. You’re certainly not going to get into heaven. You broke one of God’s rules.
*
“You dumb useless bitch.” I fell for another one. George Rodriguez’s hands were tight around my neck and it was difficult to breath. Maybe this is the way I go. Maybe it is at the hands of a boy who was so evil he might convince me that I should go along with his homicidal actions. It all took place in the backseat of my own car. At least the car was clean. The seats weren’t too worn so maybe they could lift some DNA after all was said and done. “You think you can tell me what to do? I’ll kill you!” Well, I certainly hope not. I mean this was not the way I saw all this going. Honestly, I was just trying to piss off my parents by dating a kid from one of the worst neighborhoods around. Yeah, I would like to forgo the whole regular beating stuff. I never said that, but I probably should’ve. He was one of the worst people I could’ve invited into my life. Other men would take his place, but he was one of psychos of the world that you hope your daughters, sisters, nieces, granddaughters never make acquaintances with. The charm. The unique perspective. The rebellious nature. It was all alluring and different. I was a nineteen-year-old who was yet again lovestruck and love drunk on the worst kind of fool. The most unfavorable human being wondered into my peripheral and somehow, I was dumb enough to let everything happen, again.
The ceiling resembled the same kind of tiles that offices with cubicles have. It was that mix of white sheetrock cardboard with perforated performative decorative lines that attempted to make the ceiling look normal, but it didn’t. Each tile was perfectly squared out by a metal frame but markings from a water leak could be seen because of a small yellow stain exactly where droplets decided to make a home. I had forgotten where I was until I heard her sweet voice, “Okay dear here is the doctor.” Even though I had finally become comfortable I suddenly felt anxious and unsure. I mean I’d never meant for any of this to happen. I folded my body upward on my elbows in an awkward position so that I was still laying but had accomplished a complex crunch move and I could see the man who would change my fate. I couldn’t really see him though. He had a full blown protective sterilized mask on and a serious head cap too. Suddenly, I felt like I was becoming the victim of an experimental medical research study. Perhaps I was just like every other young and uninformed girl he had performed the task on many times before. I could tell you this much, if I bumped into him on the street, I wouldn’t know him, and he wouldn’t know me. It was the perfect setup. As I lifted my head up, the anesthesiologist told me not to worry, “You won’t feel a thing, but you might not feel too hot afterward. You have someone driving you, home, right?” He asked. “Yeah. Sure. Of course,” I replied. My mind suddenly faded to the jerk waiting in the parking lot. The jerk who got me half-way in this position. He wouldn’t be able to drive me home; the idiot didn’t have a license. I guess I’d be driving post-op. and he would be supervising. A tap on my right shoulder brought me back to the reality of the moment. The doctor peered over me and explained the procedure. “Okay hun so this is what we’re gonna do; I’m gonna take this plastic suction tool that looks like a tear dropper and I’m going to wiggle free the fertilized egg from your uterus. It’s a fairly easy procedure. You’re gonna be okay hun.” I took a deep breath.
Thank god.
It’s not a hanger.
I felt my head tilt back and hit the table.
I was awake. Everyone was crying. I was crying, but I didn’t know why.
Where was I? What happened? My face and mind were drowsy. My eyes were swollen, my mouth dry, and my throat was sore. I didn’t know where I was. I slowly pulled my body upward and started to gather the gravity of my neck and head so that they were not tilting to-and-fro like a drunk person. My eyes couldn’t stay still and for a moment it felt as if I was dreaming. My trance was broken by a girl laying to my right. She too was there for what we all needed to take care of. She tried to get my attention, but her voice was hoarse. “It’ll be okay. You’re going to be okay now.” My head slowly gathered the force it needed to fall to her side and in a mumbled non-sensible murmur I said, “Thanks, you too.” I fell unconscious again and the only sound I heard were the cries of young girls. Crying for their future babies. Crying for their unborn babies. Crying for themselves. Crying for their future selves. Crying for the jerks who would probably leave them now that they didn’t have any responsibilities.
“Come on dear. It’s time to wake up now.” She gently wiped the tears from my face with a pure white cotton tissue. I don’t know how long I was there. It could’ve been minutes, hours, or days.
I couldn’t really talk. Instead, she guided my body out of the post-procedural triage and helped me back into the corner dressing room. It seemed even smaller now and my body couldn’t seem to handle the claustrophobic-ness of the space. As I tried to get my clothes on, I would bounce back-and-forth from one wall to the next. I was stuck in some old school pinball game. My legs and arms couldn’t seem to find themselves into the right holes in order to escape. I thought it was the last torturous moment of the day.
“Keep it between the yellow lines. HEY, did you hear me? Keep it between the yellow lines. I wanna get home at some point.” The day was wearing on and the parking lot was looking less attended to. I leaned out toward the left one more time to let go of everything. And there it was, my left-over yellow bile was splattered on the asphalt offering a lasting impression.
Then I drove him home.
And me, I kept driving.
Dear you, whoever you are, or were going to be:
I found a picture of you. The one last memory I wasn’t supposed to have. I must’ve hidden you away for a long time, but I found you. I was sitting in the sunroom enjoying the light that radiates through the clear single pane stain glass windows. It is a constant. It warms my spirit. While my husband was repotting our herbs that soak up the energy and light in order to grow and prosper, I was reading. At least my intention was to read, but then I found you. There you were. A faded picture I had tucked away into my favorite book.
I did the right thing. It wasn’t the right time. I wasn’t ready. I’ll probably never be ready. You’re in a better place. I think of you sometimes, but not long enough to bring me back to the past. You’re okay, and I’m okay. That’s the way it was meant to be. Let the soul of the universe coddle you until we meet. Until then I’ll dream of you. I promise.
Forever mine,
Your namesake
Meridith Leo, an emerging writer, teaches rhetoric and composition as well as creative nonfiction at Suffolk County Community College in Long Island, New York. She earned her Ph.D. at St. John’s University.
