Chapter 2
6 June 1991 again, PM this time
Wow.
Today was just a day, nothing special. I got up, got dressed, ate a handful or so of raisins, fixed breakfast for everyone and went to school, which was also the same old thing. Then I came home and worked in the garden until it was time to wash up and help with dinner, and now everyone's asleep and I have the house to myself.
The wow is that I spent the whole day paying so much more attention than usual. Everything I saw, I was thinking if I wanted to write about it, and if I did, what did I want to say. Most of it I forgot again except for
Deck the walls with lattice towers
Fa la la la la la la la la
'Tis the season to plant flowers
Fa la la la la la la la la
I think I should keep my day job.
I'm tired, but I wanted to write the feeling down, as well as the stupid poem. It doesn't have to be great, it makes me laugh. And now to sleep. More later.
7 June 1991, Friday
Bah, I forgot. Saturday is AP and Dudley's big day out. Today is Friday. Pfui.
So today I went to school. The only thing worth writing down is that I got tapped to run a note over to Mr. Schlesinger and his class was watching some movie. I got to sit and watch the end. Kind of depressing, almost everybody died, but I guess that how you know it's Literature. If it were fun, it wouldn't be good for you.
But anyway, the lead actress in it kind of reminded me of Aunt Petunia. I asked Mr. S who she was and he told me Merryl (Meryl? Merrill?) Streep. Funny thing is, she was the romantic interest in the movie and supposed to be beautiful. I wonder what AP would think if I told her that? Not 'til I get new trainers, I think.
Got in a good broken-field run on the way home and got grounded to my room until breakfast because The Dud (hmm, I like that, I'll have to keep it) fell and skinned his knee.
Which, since I now have tons of time, might be a good opening to describe my circumstances here. (Why bother when I already know? Because writing it down helps me think, and it'll be a reminder later if I feel like getting all nostalgic for cupboard, sweet cupboard.) You see, AP and UV mean to be a lot worse to me than they are. My bedroom for as long as I can remember has been the cupboard under the stairs. But there are shelves and a lightbulb in here (no idea why I've never had to replace it, every other light in the house blows pretty regularly) and more than enough space to stretch out and plenty of odd corners to hide stuff in. From what AP and UV say, I gather it's supposed to be dusty and manky in here. Dunno why, though. I clean the rest of the house. With all the time I spend in here, did they really think I wouldn't clean here too and make it as comfortable as possible? UV I can understand. I don't think the man thinks, and the Dud (yeah, definitely a keeper) takes after him, but AP is pretty sharp when she wants to be.
Hmm. I wonder if she knows how much I do to make my life more pleasant? I'll have to think about that a while.
Anyway, my cupboard is actually pretty cozy and stays nice and warm in the winter because the hot water pipes run up one side. My mattress isn't much, but from what I've read, lots of people all over the world sleep on worse. I have a fair number of books stashed in here, ones that were being thrown away from one place or another, but still. And pens and pencils are easy to find on the floor at school, so I have lots. I've ever managed to get myself a complete set of colored chalks, although it took a while. I think I appreciate my stuff more than the Dud does, cos I had to work for mine.
My most common punishment is that they lock me in here for days at a time, and don't feed me. I should be insulted. It's not like they spent money to put a decent lock on the door, it's just latched from the outside and they think I can't get out. AP sleeps with earplugs in because UV and the Dud snore loud enough I can hear them down here (when I get some, I'm putting down money with Lloyd's that the two of them die of sleep apnea before they're sixty), so once everyone's asleep, I have free run of the place. I only sneak food they won't notice being gone, like raisins and nuts and raw veg, but at least it's food, and sometimes on shopping day I manage to sneak off an entire package of something. I can wash up in the kitchen sink, too. And every morning when I'm locked in, AP lets me out to use the loo, so it's basically a weekend or so of no chores. I can live with that.
Clothes are the other big thing. They never spend money on me (I am endlessly thankful for National Health!), so I get to wear Dud's old clothes, and he's twice my size. But he's spoiled rotten and has more clothes than he can ever wear. Whenever he goes through another growth spurt, AP takes all his old clothes and makes me sort them. The like new ones go to the resale shop and I get the rest. She never seems to notice that they're all either like new or fit for the rag bag, no in between. The in between ones I stash at Mrs. Figg's in boxes marked with their sizes and they wait for me to grow into them. Next year when I'm off to Stonewall, I will never have to wear rags to school again! As it is, at least I get to wear clothes that fit when I'm visiting.
I draw the line at huge, floppy trainers, though. Bad enough Dud's feet and mine are totally different shapes. Every time I get a "new" pair of trainers, it goes on the shoe shelf, which is nice and visible from outside the cupboard, and I only wear the ones that come closest to fitting.
And now everyone's asleep, so time for dinner and clean hair. Hmm, I wonder if the fact that I wash it with dish soap is why it's so impossible.