The All-Girl Filling Station's Last Reunion (15 page)

All three girls did fairly well—all except Tula. When she soloed, she came in far too low on the landing and brought an awful lot of cornstalks down with her. After that, Tula decided to just stick to playing the accordion and roller-skating.

P
OINT
C
LEAR
, A
LABAMA

T
HE MINUTE
C
E
C
E GOT BACK FROM HER HONEYMOON
,
SHE RAN OVER
to see her mother and pick up Peek-a-Boo. “Oh, Mother, the honeymoon was just wonderful. And thanks again for taking such good care of Peek-a-Boo.”

“Oh, honey, I was happy to do it.”

After they had visited awhile and caught up on Ce Ce’s trip, Ce Ce looked at her and asked, “Mother, is there something the matter? You just don’t seem like yourself today.”

“Oh, no. It’s … well … with all my children gone, I’ve been doing a little reevaluating, that’s all.”

“About what?”

“Oh, how proud I am of all my girls. Le Le and Dee Dee have such good careers, and now you’re studying to be a veterinarian. And I guess I’m just feeling a little bit like a failure. I never did anything with my life.”

“Mother, what are you talking about? You worked and helped put Daddy through dental school.”

“Oh … not for that long, and I just did a little simple filing.”

“And you raised four children. You were always there when any of
us needed you. You cooked and cleaned and made sure we all had clean clothes. I don’t know how you did it at all.”

“Oh, honey, that’s just housewife stuff. Anybody can do that.”

“No, they can’t. I can’t. Grandmother sure couldn’t. I don’t know why you never give yourself any credit for all you did every day. And you never complained.”

“Oh, yes, I did.”

“Well, not to us. We never heard you complain about anything.”

“No?”

“No. You were always so easygoing, so sweet. You just went along with everything.”

“I did?”

“Oh, yes.”

T
HAT AFTERNOON
, S
OOKIE CALLED
Dena. “Dena, I want you to tell me the truth and feel free to be brutally frank. You were my best friend in college.”

“Yes, I was.”

“What would you say were my main personality traits?”

“Oh … well, you had a
great
personality. Everybody liked you, Sookie.”

“But why?”

“Why? You were fun to be with and always so—”

“Agreeable?”

“Yes … and you always went along with everything.”

“I knew it!”

“What?”

“I am a nonperson. I never had any real personality traits of my own. I’m traitless. I’ve just picked up things. If I hadn’t been pushed into a personality by Lenore, everyone would have seen that underneath, I am nothing but a dull, traitless blob.”

“Oh, Sookie, that’s not true.”

“Yes, it is. All these years, I’ve just been imitating other people. I’m just an empty suit.”

“Sookie, what happened? You don’t sound like yourself.”

“That’s just it. I’m
not
myself. I’m just one big piece of plasma
floating around in space … the Invisible Woman. Why couldn’t I have found all this out when I was young and still had a chance to change? Now it’s too late. I’m already formed. I’m just a second-banana kind of person, and I always will be.”

“Oh, Sookie, it’s not true. And it’s never too late to change, and do something different.”

“Yes, it is. For me, at least. I don’t think I’ve changed one bit since high school. I’m just older on the outside, that’s all.”

“Oh, honey.”

“No, it’s true, Dena. And there’s nothing more unattractive than a sixty-year-old ex-cheerleader still trying to be perky. I just make myself sick. I don’t even know if I really like people or if I’m just a big phony. Anyhow, thank you for being my friend.”

Dena hung up the phone and felt so bad for Sookie, but she could understand how she felt. She had always thought that Lenore was hilarious and a lot of fun, but then she wasn’t her daughter. And with Lenore, everybody was a second banana.

B
ILLY
B
EVINS HAD MET PLENTY OF GIRLS
,
BUT NEVER ONE LIKE
F
RITZI
. He was twelve years older, but pretty soon, when they all went out after the show, she could match him drink for drink, cuss word for cuss word—and lately, she had added a few new ones he had never heard of. Best of all, she had become almost as good a pilot as he was.

For the first few months in Grand Rapids, Fritzi had her own room at the hotel, and everything had been on the up and up. But as time went by, Gussie Mintz, the wing walker from Altoona that Billy was living with, had seen the handwriting on the wall. She saw how Billy looked at Fritzi and vice versa. He denied it, of course, but Gussie was not a fool. So one Saturday, while Billy and Fritzi were off doing the show, she up and packed her bags and moved back to Altoona. But she did leave Fritzi a note.

Gussie may not have been the most refined of girls, but Fritzi had always liked her. When you got past all the makeup, booze, crying jags, and bad grammar, there had been something kind of noble about old Gussie, and Fritzi would miss her.

And no matter what Gussie had called Billy, Gussie was clearly still in love with him. She hadn’t left because she
wanted
to. But, after all, she herself had kicked some other gal out before she and Billy had gotten together. Just the same, if she had had a gun, Gussie would have shot him right where it counted. It would have made her feel better and probably saved Fritzi a lot of heartache down the line. Billy was not the marrying kind, and he never would be.

A
S
G
USSIE HAD PREDICTED
, things with Billy and Fritzi progressed, and a few months later, she was spending more time in Billy’s room than her own. He said, “Why pay for two rooms when you are only using one?” It was as close to a proposal as she was ever going to get. She knew by now there was never going to be a wedding. Billy didn’t believe in marriage. The choice was hers. She knew it was a sin, but she had stopped going to church a long time ago, so she moved in with Billy. She only worried about two things: Momma and Poppa finding out, and getting pregnant. As Lillian, the other wing walker, had told her, “Honey, be careful. Once you get pregnant, your flying days are over.”

P
OINT
C
LEAR
, A
LABAMA

S
OOKIE REALLY WAS IN A DILEMMA
. S
HE KNEW WHO SHE BELIEVED SHE
was for the past sixty (dear God) years. But it had all been a lie. The real question now was, if she wasn’t that person … then who was she? And then she suddenly remembered something. She picked up the phone and dialed.

“Marvaleen, it’s Sookie.”

They chatted for a few minutes and then Sookie asked her, “So how are things going with your life coach, Marvaleen? Still going well?”

“Oh, yes. I see her for a private session twice a week and then once a week at her Goddess Within group. Oh, Sookie, I wish you would come with me to the group. It will just change your life. We meet every Tuesday in her backyard, in a yurt.”

“A yurt?”

“Yes. She had it sent from all the way from Outer Mongolia, and I swear, Sookie, it has special powers. I feel it the minute we enter. We all enter the yurt completely naked in order to free ourselves of the superficial trappings of Western culture, then we drum and chant to awaken the female goddess within. And after just a few sessions, it’s raised my consciousness to a higher level.”

“I see. Well, let me think about it. What I was really wondering was … do you still journal?”

“Of course. It’s a lifetime journey. Have you started, yet?”

“Not yet. But you said it really helped you find out who you were.”

“Oh, it did, Sookie. You’ve just
got
to journal! First of all, Edna Yorba Zorbra says that all females have been raised in an oppressive society, and so our self-esteem is low, and so we start by doing an Appreciation Journal and build from there, then we go on to our Rage Journal. You can’t get to primal scream until you do.”

“I see.”

“And it really works. At first, all my rage was at Ralph, and then it moved on to things I didn’t know I was mad about—personally and globally—and after you release all your rage, you can begin to lift into a yin state of being. But, Sookie, I wish you would come to group or, at least, yoga.”

“Well, let me see how the journaling goes first. How do you start?”

“Well, you start every morning making a list of ten things you like about yourself.”

“Oh …”

“For instance, like … ‘I like my breasts’ or ‘I like my feet’—things like that.”

Later that afternoon, Marvaleen had printed out instructions and dropped them by for Sookie with a note.

The next morning, Sookie went about creating her Sacred Space. She decided to set up her altar out in the greenhouse. She found a school picture of herself from the third grade and a candle and headed out with her journal in hand. She lit her candle and placed her photograph on the shelf. Lord, she really had looked like Little Orphan Annie. How pitiful. And then she sat down in her big rocking chair, opened her journal, and started to write.

Ten Things I Like About Myself

She had never even thought about body parts, one way or another, except her hair, and she had never liked her hair, but she needed seven more things. Earle always said she had pretty skin, but she had always hated her freckles. An hour later, she still had only three things. This wasn’t going well at all.

Maybe she should just skip this and start with five things she hated. Aha—she had one.

1. Blue jays

Well, no … she really didn’t hate them. She was just mad at them at the moment. And they couldn’t help being how they were. And she couldn’t be mad at nature, could she? Oh, Lord.

Two hours later, her candle had gone out, and Sookie was still sitting
out in the greenhouse. It was clear the “journaling” wasn’t working. As hard as she tried, she had not been able to get past number three on her “Ten Things I Like About Myself” list. Maybe tomorrow, she would try and reread some of the codependent books Marvaleen had given her.

A few years ago, before she had found the life coach, Marvaleen had been attending a twelve-step program for codependents and had dropped some books by. Sookie had read them and for a time she’d really tried to be a little more assertive where her mother was concerned, but it was hard to make any progress. Lenore was just so darned overpowering. And no matter what was going on, she always had to be the center of attention.