Back at home?

We existed in foster care for more than we should have.  The state wanted to make sure my mom had a good job, a reliable car, a clean place to live, and food on the table.  While we were in care, my mom melted down.  She did everything she could to keep us with her, and she was devasted when we got taken away.  I knew she got into a car accident, rolled her car by the Bradbury sign near Byers, Colorado, and we heard she went into a detox facility.  We finally got visitation with her on Sundays, and we went over to her new apartment.  It was nice and clean, and we even had beds.  We loved spending time with her, and we never wanted the day to end.  We watched tv with her, all snuggled in together, and when “Mork and Mindy” came on we knew it was almost time to go.  We hated going back, we hated leaving her alone.  We couldn’t be sure that she wasn’t drinking anymore, and even if she was drinking, we wouldn’t tell.

We got to move back in with my mom on Christmas Eve.  We were so happy to be back with her, even though there wasn’t any presents under the little tree she had.  There was three little presents there in the morning; I got a yellow pair of mittens, and a candy cane.  It was a great Christmas.  A few days after Christmas my mom told us we were moving, and that if police come to the door-not let them in.  My older sister and my mom left my younger sister and I at the apartment and we were supposed to start packing.

My older sister had two 45 records that I used to ask to listen to all the time-she always said “no”.  I thought that this time would be perfect to record her records onto my cassette so I could listen any time I wanted.  I recorded “Escape”, (The Pina Colada song) without incident, but when I started to record “Pop Muzic”, police banged on the door.  My sister and I stopped the record, and hid behind the chair.  They banged again on the door, but we stayed silent. We heard them tapping on the door, and then they left.  We stayed hidden for some time, and then I started my recording again while my sister kept lookout.  The song seemed to be  as long as “Stairway to Heaven”, and my sister yelled “they are home!” way before the song was over.  I decided it was in my best interest to get the record back in my sister’s room before she came in so I just ‘sang’ the last verse…”everybody talkin’ bout Pop Muzik, talk about!”  I almost got away with it until I played my cassette, and the owner of the records (my older sister) didn’t believe I recorded them off the radio.  I got caught, and as luck would have it, I scratched her “Pop Muzik” record.

There was a new eviction notice on the door, and the police had put a padlock on the door. My mom was livid!  She wanted to go over and chew the landlord’s ass for putting us in danger, but her boyfriend thought it would be better if we got our stuff out first.  We packed our stuff and put it all in the back of a horse trailer, and we pulled out after midnight- after mom put her own padlock on the door.

We found ourselves out at a ranch in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of a group of people we had never seen before.  We were all together, with mom, and these people seemed really nice.  We stayed out there for a few days, and we watched the yearly televised movie “The Wizard of Oz” and a new scary movie called “Aligator” where an alligator was flushed down the toilet and into “radioactive goo”.  The alligator grew to 20 feet and ravaged the city, and it scared me to death.

A few days later we moved to our new home; a trailer in Deer Trail, Colorado.  

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