The School of Ascension
by
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At 12 years old I stopped going home, I didn’t say goodbye I didn’t pack a bag I took what was important. I stayed with friends, calling in every night to keep them off my trail. Mom and Uncle Teddy the Peddie. Who as of late decided lying in my bed with me was the way to my heart. I guess he figured Mom was passed out why not go feel up the step child. I tried to tell my mom what he was doing and some how it became my fault something about my red hair and green eyes being from the devil or something stupid like that. I’ll never understand her drunken addled brain. The years that fallow found me living in an ally. My memories are hard to recall all I see now are the lessons I learned on the street. I do have my journals to help me recall So let me tell you my story as the observer. The throw away kid “God if you ever helped me before and I know you did please get me out of this house with these crazy people. That was my Mantra for many years then I hit the street.” Hike two blocks over to the artesian spring tap where I fill water bottles. Lazy days at the docks where pleasure crafts bobbed with the freight ships. About twice a week dip in to the Y when Neko was working the early.” His brown eyes sparkled as she came in, her hat pulled low over her brow a mass of curly red hair flagging behind her. “Jennie girl, Where you been at?” She felt such shame to be living in a dumpster, a non person in socie-ty. Living off of the fine eating establishments dumpsters like an ally cat was demeaning. Before she slept each night she wrote down her hopes and dreams in her diary she kept with her meager belongings in a back pack. Before she closed her eyes she prayed they would come true. Some nights were the worst; her fears could not be put to rest. The cold was biting her toes and fingers, the sounds of the street kept her alert. Often early in the morning hours she put her arm over her ear to muffle the noise from the street and cried herself to sleep. That morning she woke as the dump truck came down the small alley. Not a nice way to wake up as she scrambled to slip on shoes and grab her bag she flipped up the heavy metal top. The driver was positioning the forks to haul the dumpster in the air when he was surprised to see Jennie standing on a deep pile of paper. Her green eyes flashed in the morning sun. The driver spilled hot coffee in his lap as his foot slid off the brake. Jennie jumped straight up in the air clearing the side of the dumpster as the truck lurched forward. The driver stringing expletives together to express his surprise and anger watched Jennie leap from the dumpster and hit the ground running, she looked back once. Her green eyes he would not soon forget. After he realized why she would be there at 5 am the anger bled off and sorrow replaced it. He thought about his kids still warm in their beds while this young person spent this frosty night in a printers dumpster. Jennie’s heart was bursting from her chest when she scram-bled out of the dumpster. After she cleared the alley and no longer heard the cussing driver she leaned against the wall of the building for a moment pinching her waist to ease the stitch in her side struggling to slow her breathing. She recovered enough to move on before the dump truck finished in the alley. Jennie slung her backpack over a shoulder and headed to the Y. Ice crunched beneath her feet as she blew on her hands to warm them. She wondered if the cat that came to sleep in her hair made it out. Then memories of home flooded her mind. How her mom’s day started with a cigarette and a beer. Then she hacked up a lung over eggs. She wouldn’t eat them if they were offered but they weren’t made for her they were for him everything was for Uncle Teddy. There was always a blue haze of tobacco smoke around her. Her lungs were as black as her heart. Jennie hung around the double doors of the Y until she saw Neko behind the counter. She quickly walked through the lobby and past the desk where he was on the phone. Neko winked and smiled as he handed her a coffee with cream. She slid into the ladies locker room to grab her suit and cap from her locker then headed to the shower. In the cool water of the pool she swam laps until her heart was beating fast as she felt all the kinks and cares flow away. She cleared her mind of everything but stroke and breath, stroke and blow, stroke breath, stroke blow. A voice spoke in her head. “Alaric,” Stroke Breath, stroke blow. “Make the connection.” Jennie stood in the shower rinsing her hair as she thought about the voice in her head. Thinking about what it could mean when she dropped a quarter in the cup for the banana she took from the breakfast bowl; waving to Neko she headed out the door.
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About the Book
In New Mexico between Albuquerque and Farmington is the Chaco Canyon. A stretch of Desert with river beds made new every spring by flash floods. There is a secret hidden in the Canyon. Riding Quads through the washes was what I lived for but I was carefully warned not to go to Chaco Canyon for it was guarded by sharp shooters. The Mesas hold the reservation of the Navajo people in the shadow of Ship Rock . They know it's a Mystical place but what is there? My dreams tell me many things…
About the Author
In New Mexico between Albuquerque and Farmington where my mother lives is the Chaco Canyon. A stretch of desert with river beds made new every spring by flash floods. Here is the heart of the dreams that kept me up all night to write about Jennie and the school of Ascension. There is a secret hidden in the Canyon. Riding Quads through the washes was what I lived for but I was carefully warned not to go to Chaco Canyon for it was guarded by sharp shooters. All around are Mesas they change color from yellow to red to blue then purple then black against the Stars. The Mesas hold the reservation of the Navajo people in the shadow of Ship Rock. They know it’s a Mystic place but what is there? My dreams tell me many things……
Shelley was born in Roswell New Mexico the first day of January, no one knows the year, so she says. Her parents were young and ready for adventure so they moved the family to Anchorage Alaska.
She with her brother and sister played two block tag until midnight with the neighborhood kids, the street lights were just starting to blink on when they found their way home. She was a wild child, sneaking out at night to tube on the river and ride her trail bike up into the hills. Her Brother was a great source for diversions. Crawling under the fence at the drive in movie to pick up money and beer on a Saturday night was fun and profitable.
When she was a pre teen she found a little church where she learned to worship and wonder about her soul. Who God is has always been a question to be answered. All her family lives South she settled in the Northwest, where she is gainfully employed at a profession she enjoys but her passion is writing.