Bream Gives Me Hiccups Read online

  And I kept worrying that maybe my whole life was fake. Like if Mom was my main relationship and it was fake, then what did I have that was real? I’m friends with Matthew, but sometimes that feels fake too. And I liked Dad but he turned fake and moved away. Sometimes I worry that the only thing I really have is myself and that’s a really scary thought.

  I must have finally fallen asleep because the next thing I remember was really weird: a loud bell started ringing and I opened my eyes to see Mom standing above my bed, wide-awake. Her hair was wet from excited sweating and she looked wild-eyed. She said, “It’s 5:45. We can either go to the morning meeting and spend the whole day doing yoga and eating carrot forks or we can get the hell out of here. Your call.”

  I didn’t even have to say anything. I just nodded, so relieved! And Mom smiled, so relieved as well. Then we grabbed all of our stuff and crammed it into our suitcase and darted out of the room.

  We ran around the Penis Pool, over the sweaty carpets, past the Trust Lockers, and finally into the parking lot. We jumped into the car and, as Mom started the engine, the dreadlocked white woman ran out of the welcome building and called after us, “You’re going to miss satsang!”

  And Mom rolled down her window and shouted back, “Trust me, I’m not!”

  And then the woman said, “We’re sorry to see you’re not spiritually aligned enough to make it through the whole weekend.”

  And then Mom said, “Fuck off!” and pulled out of the parking lot.

  And even though Mom cursed, I started laughing, which is not normal for me because usually when Mom curses it makes me feel like I have a Sister instead of a Mother. But for some reason, I couldn’t stop laughing. Maybe because it was so early or maybe because I was just so happy to leave the Ashram, but I laughed until my cheeks hurt.

  As we were driving home, the sun began to rise and I stared at Mom, who seemed kind of happy for the first time since Dad left. She opened the window and let the air blow her wet hair back, which is something she never does because she doesn’t like fresh air.

  And I started laughing again because I suddenly thought that, a long time ago, Mom was a child like me. I never realized that Mom had her own life before me and maybe she was happy as a child or maybe she was sad, but she probably didn’t think that one day she would be so angry.

  Mom asked me, “What are you laughing at?”

  And I said the truth: “I thought of you as a child.”

  And then Mom started smiling. And I almost didn’t recognize her smile because it was a real smile. And it made her face look different—her eyes squinted and her cheeks puffed out a little. And even though she looked older than when she fake smiles, she looked a lot better.

  And then she said, “I was actually a really pretty girl.”

  And she had tears in her eyes even though she was smiling.

  And then I had tears in my eyes even though I was smiling too.

  And I wanted to ask her if she only took me around so that Dad would pay for her but I already knew the answer: Mom took me around because she needed me.

  Because going through a hard life with someone else is better than going through an easy life alone.

  That’s why I’m giving the Ashram 27 out of 2000 stars and Mom 1892 out of 2000 stars.

  II.

  FAMILY

  MY LITTLE SISTER TEXTS ME WITH HER PROBLEMS

  MY SISTER: Hey u up?

  ME: It’s four in the morning.

  MY SISTER: Yeah.

  ME: Are you okay?

  MY SISTER: No!

  ME: Why?

  MY SISTER: Micah’s being a total dick.

  ME: Did he hurt you?

  MY SISTER: What? No. He’s just being a dick.

  ME: Oh. So can we talk about this in the morning?

  MY SISTER: CAN YOU STOP ATTACKING ME?

  ME: I’m not attacking you. So what happened?

  MY SISTER: We were supposed to just stay in tonight because Wednesday is our quiet night and he invited Jarred over, who’s a pothead but like the selfish kind and the two of them were just making dumb jokes the whole night and I felt totally invisible.

  ME: Do you want me to talk to him?

  MY SISTER: Who?

  ME: Micah.

  MY SISTER: What? No! Why?

  ME: To tell him to be nicer or something?

  MY SISTER: WHAT??

  ME: I don’t know. Is he there with you?

  MY SISTER: Yeah. He’s sleeping. So sweet!

  ME: So it’s okay between you two?

  MY SISTER: YES! STOP IT!

  ME: Okay. I’m gonna go back to sleep now.

  MY SISTER: FINE!

  ME: Night honey.

  MY SISTER: I love you! Call me sometime! I miss you!

  MY SISTER: Hey u up?

  ME: I am now.

  MY SISTER: Have you bought mom a birthday thing yet?

  ME: A birthday thing?

  MY SISTER: Like a present?

  ME: Oh. Yeah. I did.

  MY SISTER: WHAT? WHY!?

  ME: Cause it’s her birthday. Can we talk about this in the morning?

  MY SISTER: NO! Dad’s being a total dick. He’s like “your mother’s not turning 60 again. Do you think she wants to remember this as the birthday you didn’t get her a present?”

  ME: Well why didn’t you get her anything?

  MY SISTER: BECAUSE I’VE BEEN BUSY?! CAN YOU PLEASE NOT ATTACK ME RIGHT NOW?

  ME: I wasn’t attacking you.

  MY SISTER: What did you get her?

  ME: I got her a small giraffe statue. Like the one she liked from that antique place in New Hope.

  MY SISTER: Can you say it’s from both of us?

  ME: Okay, do you want to split it?

  MY SISTER: Well how much $ was it?

  ME: Like 200?

  [NO RESPONSE]

  ME: Okay, I’ll say it’s from both.

  MY SISTER: Thx. And call me sometime! I feel like we never talk!

  MY SISTER: Hey u up?

  ME: No.

  MY SISTER: Having major crisis!

  ME: K. What?

  MY SISTER: 25 pg paper due in four hrs!!! Professor’s being a total dick.

  ME: Do you need any help?

  MY SISTER: Do you know anything about Cameroonian separatists?

  ME: No.

  MY SISTER: Then no.

  ME: So can I go back to sleep?

  MY SISTER: NO! I’m distraught!

  ME: Why?

  MY SISTER: They want to start their own govt in the south which is totally fine but the Cameroonian Loyalists don’t want them to because it would include the oil-rich Bakassi peninsula! So UNFAIR!

  ME: Uh huh.

  MY SISTER: And the Loyalists already ADMITTED that it didn’t belong to them! It’s like, JUST LEAVE THE AMBAZONIA REGION ALREADY!!!

  ME: Right. I’m really tired.

  MY SISTER: It’s total domestic neocolonialism and it’s like, HELLO! GIVE THEM THE POLITICAL SOVEREIGNTY THEY DESERVE UNLESS YOU WANT ANOTHER RWANDA ON YOUR HANDS!!!

  ME: Sure. It’s just I kind of have a big day tomorrow.

  MY SISTER: Okay fine! Go to sleep.

  ME: Thx. Good luck with the paper.

  MY SISTER: Don’t patronize me

  ME: I wasn’t patronizing you.

  ME: Hello?

  MY SISTER: Hey u up?

  ME: Haven’t heard from you in a few days.

  MY SISTER: I know sry bout that.

  ME: No it’s been good actually. I finally got some sleep. Lol.

  MY SISTER: Can you please not joke now?!

  ME: Oh. Sorry.

  MY SISTER: Not in the mood!

  ME: Okay why?

  MY SISTER: I was taken hostage by the Cameroonian Loyalists and just got cell service.

  ME: What?!

  MY SISTER: They read my paper.

  ME: Are you serious?

  MY SISTER: And Cameroonian Prime Minister Philemon Yunji Yang is being a total dick. Telling
me that I can’t leave till I take back what I wrote! It’s like FREEDOM OF SPEECH, you know?

  ME: Oh my god! Should I call the embassy?

  MY SISTER: NO! They make such a big deal. And DON’T TELL MOM! She always overreacts. Remember when I was vegan?? Argh!

  ME: Are you in danger?

  MY SISTER: It’s like, I’LL EAT WHATEVER I WANT, MOM!

  ME: Okay. But Are You Safe???

  MY SISTER: STOP ATTACKING ME! YES! I’m safe. I’m just pissed off.

  ME: Okay. So can we talk about this when you get home?

  MY SISTER: Yeah, can you pick me up from JFK when I’m released?

  ME: Sure, send me your flight details.

  MY SISTER: And don’t just drive around the terminal. Actually park and come in and get me ;-)

  ME: K.

  MY SISTER: Thx. I love you. CALL ME SOMETIME!

  SEPARATION ANXIETY SLEEPAWAY CAMP

  8 A.M. Campers begin the day with an early call to Mom. Those campers who have wet the bed will have an opportunity to change clothes or, if they prefer, to remain in their soiled pajamas as the warm stench of their own urine may be more comforting and remind them of home.

  9 A.M. Breakfast is served in the main dining hall, though most campers will choose not to eat breakfast, as it is hard to eat first thing in the morning because the day hasn’t started and this thought is mortifying. Those campers who boldly choose to eat will be given pancakes in the shape of their names, which will remind them of home and likely cause indigestion.

  10:30 A.M. Swim time. Campers will swim for seven minutes in a shallow wading pool, with two lifeguards per camper. Campers will wear pre-inflated floaties on their arms and legs and around their necks. After swim, campers will have an opportunity to call their mom to let her know that they have not drowned.

  If the camper has drowned, Mothers will be notified by the Counselors in Training, or CITs. The Counselors in Training will then have an opportunity call their own Mothers.

  NOON. Lunchtime. Campers dig into one of Mom’s prepack-aged lunches. Campers are encouraged not to read enclosed notes until after food is digested, which will be difficult as the thought of the unread note will be unsettling.

  Following lunch, campers are given a free reading period, in which they may read their notes from Mom. If a camper has not received a note from Mom, one of the Counselors in Training, or “CITs,” will forge a note and pretend it was lost in the refrigerator that housed the campers’ lunches. Attempts to match Mom’s handwriting will be sincerely made, although complete accuracy cannot be guaranteed.

  2–3 P.M. Campers will be given a “free period” where they will have one hour to explore the campgrounds, kayak on nearby Lake Winooski, build a campfire, or write a postcard to their Mom. Calls to Mom are also possible during this time.

  4 P.M. We follow free period with an afternoon call to Mom. At this point, campers may also ask to speak to their father, but this is strictly optional. Most likely, Dad will not have time for the camper or, if he does have time, will likely talk about himself and how stressful work is or how well the camper’s sister is doing in her sports camp. If Dad is spoken to during this period, campers will be allotted twenty additional minutes to debrief with Mom. Tissues provided.

  5:30 P.M. Campers may choose from a variety of electives including Show-and-Tell, where campers can present a relic from their home to their fellow campers, who will likely not be able to focus on something from someone else’s life as this requires a level of interest in others that campers do not possess during periods of great agitation.

  Campers may also choose Arts and Crafts, where campers can draw family portraits wherein the Mother figure is unconsciously drawn much larger than the Father figure, who will likely have an X drawn, again unconsciously, through his face.

  We will also be featuring a new elective this year, called “Lamentation Period,” where campers are given time to reflect on their relationship with their mother and lament the futility of life away from home and the terror that accompanies leaving the house. Fears of college can also be prematurely contemplated during this time.

  7 P.M. Dinner is served in the main dining hall. Campers are encouraged to eat freely as the day is almost over and they are one day closer to being home. Though it is optional, campers may even enjoy themselves briefly and, if desired, experience the slightest amount of relief that they are a few hours closer to going home than they were at breakfast.

  AT 9 P.M., it is lights out. Unless a camper would like to stay up all night and call their mom. If this is the case, a call to Mom is possible at this, or any, time. If the camper chooses to sleep but then has a nightmare, a call to Mom is allowed and encouraged. If the camper chooses to sleep but wakes up before his bunkmates, the camper may call his mother. If the camper chooses to sleep and makes it through the whole night without a call to Mom, he will be escorted home by one of the Counselors in Training, or “CITs,” to apologize to his mom for being aloof.

  Counselors in Training will be made up of campers’ moms.

  MY MOTHER EXPLAINS THE BALLET TO ME

  Where have you been? It’s starting in five minutes! I hate having to leave your ticket at the box office. Why can’t you just show up on time like a normal person? You think you’d be able to be here early since you’re not coming from a job, a girlfriend, any kind of rich social life or commitment to public service. Anyway, I’m glad you’re here. Give me a kiss.

  What did you think of that usher? She seems pretty, a little chunky maybe, but nice, right? A nice face. You need to find someone like that. Did you like her? Did you say anything to her or did you just nod and shut down like you do around any girl that’s not Sarah? Anyway, she is a bit chunky. Not for you.

  O.K., it’s starting. Do you know anything about this ballet? It was $125, you should know what you’re seeing. It was written by Wagner, which is pronounced “Vag-ner” and who was a Nazi but before Hitler. O.K., turn your phone off. It’s starting.

  You see, what’s happening now is that she’s in love with those three men. That’s why they’re all holding roses. And she’s courting them at the same time. Like when you drove all the way to Providence for Sarah’s graduation and she decided she didn’t have any time for you. But I’m sure she was able to squeeze in some time for what’s-his-name. Patrick? Are they still together? They deserve each other. She was never right for you. She brought almond cake to the house after your grandmother’s funeral. As if one death in the family wasn’t enough, she wants me to go into anaphylactic shock at my own mother-in-law’s funeral? I’m not telling you who you should date, it’s not my business and I respect your “process,” but that girl was an ungrateful hussy who never appreciated you.

  Why can’t you stand like that guy on stage? Look at his posture. Forget that he’s black for a second and just look at his body. His shoulders are back. He has confidence. You look like you’re apologizing even before you open your mouth. You walk in a room, no one notices. He walks on stage, we’re all looking. Look at him, he’s like a walking picture. I never dated a black man. Your father was so attractive in college. It stifled me, in a way. I used to be very progressive.

  Stop nodding off. What did you do all day that you’re so tired? Are you sweating? You smell like you’re sweating.

  Look who she’s dancing with now. Quelle surprise! You see? When you stand up straight, she takes your rose. It’s just about the confidence you project. If you had confidence, people would notice you. There was a kid in a wheelchair back in Elmhurst but he was so funny, he knew how to laugh at himself and, in a way, we all liked him.

  What she’s doing now is called a pas de chat. It’s French and we all know how you did in that class, so I’ll just solve the mystery and tell you that it means “step of the cat.”

  Ah, look at that! She just fell! Ha! Clumsy. I could do that. “Step of the cat.” I used to dance, did I tell you that? I could’ve been successful if I hadn’t had your sister. She tore my bo
dy apart. She’s still destroying me, in a way. I could’ve done that. It looks harder than it is.

  Oh, he’s back! Look at him! He’s an Adonis. Do you think he puts something in his pants to fill it out? No one has such a big thing, right? Your father is the only man I’ve ever been with. Can you believe that? It’s noble, in a way, but I’m not going to Heaven for not having any fun.

  Can you please pay attention for a second? Your fidgeting is distracting me. I understand you’re impatient. I’ve been impatient too. Like when I was impatient for thirty-six hours while you took your sweet time ambling down my birth canal. That wasn’t exactly fun for me either. It felt like I was trying to shit out a watermelon. Had I known about the size of your head, I would’ve gotten a Caesarean. Hindsight, right?

  Okay, what’s happening now is we’re being kicked out because I’m talking too much. The usher, who I initially thought was pretty—Hi, dear!—is escorting us out. And understandably so, I haven’t stopped audibly insulting you since this started and it’s distracting to the other patrons. She is actually cute up close. A little flabby in the neck, but cute. Try to get her number.

  Listen, I can’t drive you home, you’ll have to take the train. Traffic is a nightmare at the tunnel right now.

  I’ll see you next week. Try to be on time. I think it was a great idea that we got these season tickets. Give me a kiss. Love you, sweetheart.

  AN EMAIL EXCHANGE WITH MY FIRST GIRLFRIEND, WHICH AT A CERTAIN POINT IS TAKEN OVER BY MY OLDER SISTER, A COLLEGE STUDENT STUDYING THE BOSNIAN GENOCIDE

  ME: hey amy . . . just got home from food shopping with my mother. She takes FOREVER in every aisle . . . Thought I was going to die . . . This is why I hate summer.

  AMY: lol. I never go shopping with my mom anymore for that exact reason. Guess you are learning . . .

  ME: How was day “numero uno” of ballet camp?

  AMY: day numero uno was “bien,” thank you for asking. I missed you tho. I keep thinking how nice it would be if you were up here and dancing with me the whole time!