4

Daddy Issues

Iris walks to her 98’ green Pontiac Grand Am in the parking lot of her complex, after giving up halfway into the walk, drowning in the rain. She had booked a $32  ride during peak hours with a heavy sigh, right in front of a little thrift shop she poked her head in. Look but not touch. She is exhausted no doubt, but still high on the Ritalin. Exhaustion is only a feeling right now though, and not something she can physically act upon. In that moment, Iris wonders if she can maybe throw up an empty stomach to rid what remains in her system. This ridiculous and negligent behavior cannot go on any longer, and she knows that.

Her car is untouched as she looks at it from the outside. Only a few scratches besides being a 17-year-old discontinued vehicle, and being a pain to deal with at auto shops, whenever there was an issue. She had paid for the car in cash, but it still didn’t make up for the fact that she had to deal with maintenance issues every few months.

As she hesitantly turns on the car, she hears a mouse-like screech come out from the engine. The smell of burning rubber enters her already chilled nostrils. “Jeez,” she sighs, closing her eyes as she backs out of the tiny parking lot.

As she drives a few miles down the road, she passes by a scary skinny old man on the sidewalk, holding up a sign for money and food. She admires people who stand with signs, waiting, rather than approaching someone, being invasive. Iris likes to give to the homeless on her terms, and the old man appears to be on his death bed. He has a bony face, torn green hat on, shredded clothes, and a cart with a few bottles for the bottle return. The cart has a missing wheel in the front.

“Sir,” she calls out at a stop light. She’s holding out an energy bar. “I want you to have this.”

“How kind of you, Miss.” He cracks out a smile as he takes the bar from her, showing her his yellow busted teeth.

He looks eighty-five. Who knows how long he’d been out here? He didn’t even smell of tobacco. She had sensed innocence in this fellow human being’s presence for some reason. Perhaps nostalgia of her grandparents.

“My pleasure!” She smiles at him, her eyes softening more. Older humans for some reason, were people Iris felt like she understood more than others. The ones in their seventies and up.

“Have a nice day.” His voice is so dried out from dehydration, she sees him smack his lips a little after saying good-bye to her.

“Take my water, Sir.” She hands him a water bottle that’d only been sipped a few times today before driving away.

“Bless you,” he says as he smiles again.

“Happy Holidays.” She rolls her window up, smiling, and proceeds onto the long road.

Iris realizes Christmas is only two weeks away and she herself is so poor, no gifts have even crossed her mind to buy for her family and the few friends she has, back in Michigan. As she drives down the rainy road, she recalls the times she spent with her family during the holidays. A few tears leave her face as she lights a fresh cigarette.

“Christmas music time,” she smiles, turning on the radio, trying to lighten the mood.

Paul McCartney’s “Wonderful Christmas Time” comes on, giving her instant and vivid flashbacks of all the times she sang this classic song in the car with her mother.

“Mommy,” Iris hears and sees her younger self now, clear as day, sitting in her carseat with light blue overalls and a bright pink turtleneck. She’s bobbing her head in a spastic but upbeat way. “This is my favorite song.” She’d always squeal whenever that song came on during the holidays.

“It’s been around since I was your age, Sweetie.” She hears her mother’s angelic and carefree voice, still young and oblivious in her early 30s. Her mother would always crank it up and sing along with her.

“We should listen to Christmas music all the time, Mommy.” Iris was such a cheerful child growing up. “It’s always so happy!” 

“If only, Iris.” She’d never forget the day her mother said that, showing tears in the rearview mirror.

Little did she know that her mother had discovered her husband, Adam, was having an affair with one of his coworkers that day. Iris found out a decade later though from her sister, who had nonchalantly mentioned it while they were Christmas shopping together. Alice was on break after completing her 1st semester, freshman year of college. Iris was fourteen then,  old enough to know what “sex” and “affair” meant.

Her mother decided to stay married to him because he had simply apologized and promised it would never happen again. He also made so much money being a lawyer that it was excruciatingly hard to just up and leave with all that stability. He had made her sign a prenup before getting married, leaving her with nothing, had they divorced. She was twenty-five and smitten by Iris’s father at the time. A lot of women were. At the time, he had told her there was no need to worry because a divorce would never happen. She was “the love of his life,” he’d often say after messing up or making her feel bad about something.

Iris still remembers to this day at age four, when she cracked the door open on her father and Haley, his twenty-something wavy-haired sandy-blonde secretary. Long legs and a slender build, sprawled across the bed in matching scarlet colored underwear. Iris didn’t know what sex was, but she assumed at the time, it was strictly business on her father’s end. She had quietly shut the door, after witnessing Haley get blindfolded in bed. Adam’s mistress obviously knew he was married with kids, but didn’t care. She wanted his money too. Eva was away for the weekend with Alice to spend their mother-daughter time, a tradition Iris was never a part of. Where Adam had to play babysitter and yell about it while drinking his Scotch.

Iris was supposed to be asleep across the hall. That night, she had a fever though and needed to ask her dad for help, even though she constantly feared his presence. Her mother didn’t find out about the affair until a year later. She had explained to Iris and Alice that Daddy had broken trust. Iris felt bad for not saying something earlier, as she then realized maybe the thing he did with Haley was not what normal married human beings did with their colleagues.

Eva had kicked Adam out of the house for six months, causing him to stay between motels until they figured things out. Adam had returned as a changed, wonderful man again, after going to therapy and showing Eva proof of the bills on his credit card statements. He had made amends and agreed to even go to couples’ therapy with her. She was in love again without a doubt, but little did she know, her husband still held a grudge.

Iris remembers playing in her room  with her stuffed animals, Gordy and Ellie, a giraffe and elephant she had gotten last Christmas, from her father. It had been a few weeks after her father moved and settled back in. Her father had stormed in, snatching her two stuffed toys from her.

Iris is driving in the rain, back to reality, shutting her eyes for a second to erase that scene. She opens them instantly though to focus on the blurry streets of red lights changing every few seconds with stacking traffic. As she’s slowing down, she spots a forty-something man on the sidewalk. Towering height, not even resembling her father in the face, but the demeanor of an expensive looking trenchcoat, shiny wing-tipped shoes, and a phone glued to his ears, causes her to leave the presence once again.

“Can’t believe after all I’ve done for you, Iris.” She sees her younger self back on the floor, mouth slightly dropped. Her eyes had lightly bounced back and forth at the two stuffed animals he’d been holding up high from her. The two stuffed animals she slept with every night, holding them to her chest closely. A rememberance that her daddy loved her because he bought them for her.

His stubbles were neglected and had a few nicks from shaving in a hurry. His hazel eyes were glazed as usual with lips chapped, smelling of fresh alcohol. “So you’re the brains behind this shit show! I should have known.” His eyes had pierced through hers as he suddenly tore Gordy’s head off with just one hand, throwing it across the room. His hand had turned beat red from the pressure he used, even though he was a strong man. She’d always remember that rug burning red color.

“D-d-daddy?” Her eyes were widened in horror at the crime scene of a toy that helped her get through life.

“Can’t believe it took Haley this long to tell me she JUST rememembered hearing a creak at my door, the night I was on business with her. You were supposed to be asleep, Maggot.”

She hears the word “maggot” ring in her ears as she proceeds to drive through the green light, back to the present. A demanding voice with slight grimace behind it and a playful cackle, all in that one word. A name-call he still used on her as an adult when he had too much to drink. “Maggot” was his definition of a disgusting ugly bug and disrgace to all the other kinds of bugs out there.

MAGGOT. MAGGOT. MAGGOT. MAGGOT.

Iris decides to resume the flashback so it’ll finish from her memory. Trying to dodge it while driving was actually more dangerous because it was so hard to block out in the first place. Her memories were always so real to her, sometimes she felt like she could even touch the people in them.

“Daddy?” Iris was confused at the time. How anyone could have heard her quietly shut the door after about two seconds of seeing something uncomfortable. Even four-year-old Iris knew not to stay and watch. Her dad was always a private man anyways.

Alice had told her in that decade later conversation during Christmas shopping, that Mom found a pair of underwear wedged behind their bed post a year after he had the affair. Her mother didn’t tell Adam that though, apparently. Eva simply told him that she knew all along he was having an affair with someone. The problem was, he only did it that one time with his secretary. The only other times he’d regularly cheated were when Iris was a teenager, but by then, she knew to keep her mouth shut and pretend like he was a saint. Despite her doting and oblivious mother, she wanted nothing more than for her to be happy.

Iris almost hits a car next to her, distracted still of this flashback that happened seventeen years ago. She had her blinker on, but made a poor judgement call on the amount of space it would take to change lanes. The black Honda Civic is blasting its speakers abruptly now, holding his honk longer than ten seconds. The man inside the car is behind her in fury now in the next lane. She sees his eyebrows, even from a blurry distance, drop down to the most aggravated stare. The abrupt honking only brings her back to the memory again. The stuffed animal incident that had sirens going off in the background at the time, as Chicago usually did every few hours. No honks in the memory, but a jostling noise of that nature is enough to tip her back to the past.

Little Iris had observed the body of her first deceased stuffed animal, Gordy, in horror. His body was thrown next to her and his detached long-necked head had landed on her pink and white checkered bed. Her eyes widened as her father held up Ellie next, right in front of her. The soft baby girl elephant with eyelashes, smiling innocently. This one would be much harder to mourn over, she remembered.

Her father ripped Ellie in two, right down the middle, and stuffed it in Iris’s small waste basket.

“Daddy!” her voice had blatantly croaked, tears filling up. The ripped elephant had barely fit in there; it was a bright pink princess themed waste basket, only a little bigger than the ones in bathrooms.

“Guess you’ll need to take out the trash, Iris.” Adam roared in laughter, seeing the elephant’s legs sticking out.

Her five-year-old face was sinking in disturbance, hiding the glare she wanted to shoot back at him. Her father caught on though, dragging her out of her room by the tiny arm she had attached to her. Nobody else was home as usual, whenever this sort of thing happened. She was a little confused why he had taken her to his room, locking it. Then again, everyone including herself in the family always locked doors out of habit. He had nearly ripped the socket of her arm out, once the door locked. His yank was strong enough to tear her limbs and put her in a doctor’s office. Iris’s face had turned beat red after her father had given her a sudden smack across the face. She had stumbled near the bed, picking herself up slowly with a twisted ankle.

“Don’t you ever tell Mommy what Daddy does in the bedroom anymore, you hear me? Because of you, I almost lost the love of my life due to a misunderstanding, you pathetic child.” He had grabbed Iris by the shoulders, shaking her fast, her head bobbing viciously, causing kinks in her neck.

“Daddy, stop! You’re hurting me!” She had grown frightened of her father since that day, and he’d never really changed like her mother had made him out to be, after the affair.

“You’re a messed up child and always will be, Iris. I wish Eva never had you. I wish we never took this burden on our plates. You’re no good to any of us with your disorder. You’re just useless on this planet. And a big useless piece of shit child!” Adam had finally released her, allowing her fragile five-year-old body to gracefully catch a whiff of the hard wood floor. He had chuckled to himself, grabbing his Jägermeister on the end table. “At least Alice is already getting straight A’s in grade school. She’ll go far in life. It’s what we need to continue our family’s legacy.” He had tilted his thick head back to absorb the alcohol down his throat smoothly. “Besides, Maggot,” he had choked on a light chuckle. “You never belonged anyways.”

“Daddy,” Iris looked at him, still on the floor, shivering. She remembers crying quiet but intensely in that moment, pleading for a speck of her father’s approval. “Never belonged? What does that mean? W-w-h-hy don’t you love me?” Her lower lip had trembled, staring into the identical eyes of him.

The front door downstairs opened abruptly in that exact moment though, and he knew to change his gears. “Honey, it’s not that I don’t love you. I just don’t love what you are. But don’t worry, in a few years when you’re old enough, we’ll fix you and make things right. It’s not your fault you were born.” He patted his daughter on the head, then suddenly shoved her to the ground as he left the room.

Young Iris had realized that the Jaeger bottle was consumed halfway that day. Despite her father being drunk at the time, she’d never forget the day he began to physically and verbally abuse her, reminding her that she wasn’t supposed to exist in this world. That there had been complications in the emergency room the day Eva gave birth to her, causing Iris to be tweaked a little, apart from other human beings.

“Prick,” Iris mumbles underneath her gritted teeth, throwing the cigarette out the window. Replaying that flashback had caused her entire body to tense up, hands gripping the wheel in a deathly manner.

She realizes she forgot her bag of homework for finals before leaving in her car, and has to turn around. Twenty minutes go by and she finally makes it into her place to grab the bag and feed Stella. The kitten meows a high-pitched plea as she leaves again. Iris feels bad but decides after finals, she’s going to get her a toy from the Dollar Tree.

The library is quaint but crowded, with students studying before the holiday break, as soon as she arrives. The dimmed lighting and spacious openings to walk around and explore, with a café as the main study area, is exactly where Iris wants to be right now. The smell of people her age relieve her, and the background Christmas music soothes her anxious beating heart. A sigh of relief enters her lungs now, reminding her that her new life can be better than her old life.

After all, she’d left home almost four years ago. Six months after high school graduation, where  many other classmates stayed behind. She couldn’t face that town again though. Not after what Eliawa put her through, exposing her to be the freak that she really was. After four years of living in Grand Rapids as the new person in high school, who had an invisible alien friend, and living in Chicago the first fourteen years of her life, Iris never felt at home in either. She didn’t even feel at home here, even though Portland was supposed to be a place for all the weirdos. Not weirdos who lacked anti-social skills and had imaginary alien friends though, apparently.

Iris is seated by herself in one of the single study rooms on the 2nd floor. The cafe area, filled with attractive business-major-looking guys, would make her feel like she’s at work, or replaying the scene of her horrendous recent coffee date. The room she’s in is completely blank. Clean slate, just like her life’s daily motto: Fresh start. One day at a time. New beginnings.

“Maggot,” she laughs out loud for a few seconds before slapping on a serious face, shaking her head. Iris begins to write down some notes and in that moment, decides she is capable of taking care of herself from here on out. And her cat.

Next Chapter: Down The Rabbit Hole