Desert wild flower (photo by Rusty Storbeck) 
A cat from outside adopted Bill. He named her Priscilla. A few weeks ago she had her kittens. We never saw them till night before last. I found this photo on the web, because it looks so much like our Priscilla, but of course her babies are tiny. 7:57 am, Thursday, April 9, 2009CupcakeI forgot that April is my favorite month. The name is so pretty, April. And it’s my birthday month. And here on desert April is all about the green leaves on trees. They get their leaves on April 1 and each morning is a new glorious sight, because desert is “Jack and the Beanstalk” land. A weed which is one inch tall in the morning, by next morning is 6 feet tall.
Our glorious sunshine makes everything grow so fast. A week ago the new green baby leaves were still so young and small and yellow, chartreuse with lots of yellow still in it. Now the world out my window is lush. The leaves are Kelly green and they are much bigger. They went from baby duckies to second graders, self-assured 7 year olds starting off for school. It’s a whole other world, a transformed world, than the view from my window all winter. Now it is the world of green leaves against the blue sky and it sure is pretty. And green leaves wherever you look. You are always looking into green leaves.
It hit me last week or maybe the week before, that Priscilla did not have her babies in some secret spot in our yard that Beanie (our dog) cannot get to, but instead she has them in the house. Bill turned that second living room, that huge huge room, into an art studio, and in the dark corner by the fireplace all the canvasses are stacked up. But because of the way they are stacked up, I realized last week there would be tunnel thru them. A tunnel big enough for a cat to get thru but not for my Beanie.
And I don’t know why it suddenly hit me that that is where she has her kitties. It seemed such an inaccessible spot, safe in the house, dark, inaccessible to Beanie, and would explain why she is always around. The instant Bill would take Beanie out, she would appear for her food and to say hi to me. And the instant Bill and Beanie were back and Beanie went under the bed for his nap, and Bill was alone in the kitchen making his breakfast, she would appear to hang out with her beloved Bill. And at night when Bill sat down to play chess with the computer and Beanie and I were safely in back room, she would spend all evening with Bill. “She loves chess” Bill would tell me.
The instant I told Bill “Priscilla had her kittens in our living room and not in some faraway inaccessible spot in the yard,” he denied it.
He said “NO! I don’t want her having her babies here! It is not safe from Beanie. I want her to have her kitties outside!”
He was so emphatic in his denial, “I don’t want the kittens in the house, they are not safe here, they are safe outside.”
I took it back, I said “I am sure she has her kittens outside.”
And the odd thing is that when Bill denied it when I told him, and I went along with his denial to please him, the odd thing is that my mind slipped into denial. I completely forgot that I had realized Priscilla has her kittens in that remote corner of Bill’s art studio where everything is stacked up and Beanie can’t get to it. I actually went back to thinking she has her kittens somewhere outside in the yard. And when we drove back from the pool, along our alleyway, I kept my eyes peeled at our easement, our yard, the yard across the way, wondering if I would get a glimpse of the kitties.
And then the night before last while I was reading in my bed and Beanie was stretched out on his featherbed next to me, I heard Bill call out from the second living room/art studio in an urgent voice. “Anne! come here! what is this! Don’t bring Beanie!”
The way he called out “What is this!” I assumed that Beanie had brought in the stale fried chicken I had thrown out in the yard, left it in the middle of the carpet, and I was going to be yelled at about it. That he would say “That is not how you feed Beanie, you break up the food very nicely, take out the bones so they won’t hurt him, and put it in a nice bowl for him.” And then he would say “Why isn’t Beanie eating his food? Does he have stomachache? What did you feed him!” That is the usual kind of emergency for which I am summoned in that urgent voice, “Anne come here! what is this?”
I just didn’t understand why he said “keep Beanie away!” But it wasn’t about the old fried chicken lying on the carpet. Bill had something small and black in his hand and it was meowing lustily, it was incessantly meowing, calling for its mother.
“It’s Priscilla’s kitten” we both said.
“How did it get in here?” Bill said.
It was meowing so hard I said to Bill “Put it back!”
“Back where?” he said. I forgot Bill had denied the kittens were born and being cared for in some spot under all his canvases, where it makes an archway tunnel.
“It must have walked in from outside” Bill said.
“O yes right” I said keeping up the fiction.
Fortunately wherever Beanie was, he did not come. Bill had that black cupcake in his hand, meowing its head off, and didn’t know what to do with it. And neither did I. And the next thing we knew I saw Priscilla trotting in from somewhere way in the backyard. She wasn’t racing but it was determined-face trot. The instant I saw her I went right to my back bedroom to make sure Beanie was there, he will stay where I am.
And Bill reported to me a few minutes later that Priscilla instantly took the kitten by back of neck and moved it to where she wanted. Of course Bill thinks she took the kitten back outside to its nest. Altho he said “I didn’t see her go out with it.” He was just so happy and pleased and relieved that Priscilla arrived so fast to rescue both Bill and her kitten, as neither were happy in that situation. The kitty wasn’t scared in Bill’s hand, but she sure was crying her head off for her mother. And Bill was absolutely flummoxed. “What should I do with it?” he kept asking me.
It took both of us two hours to calm down afterwards. If it weren’t for Beanie this business of the kittens would all be sheer delight for everyone. But we just don’t know if the kitties are safe with Beanie. That is why Bill wanted to believe so badly Priscilla has the kittens in an alcove in the yard which Beanie can’t get to, and is why Bill still believes that. He has not changed his story, he actually thinks that kitten found its own way into the house looking for its mother. Bill said “I heard it crying the whole time I was playing chess, but I thought I was imagining it, and then finally I went in to look, and there it was.” “She took the kitten away in her mouth” he said.
But I remembered when I used to have a cat which had kittens in my apartment in the Lower East Side. I had made spot for her to have her kittens in the closet, but she wanted bottom drawer of dresser. And each time I put the kittens back in the box in the closet, she took each one by the neck and moved it back to the drawer. After this happened 3 times I gave up and let her have drawer for her kittens, so I knew Priscilla had taken her kitten by the neck.
And the next morning, yesterday morning, when we were all calm and happy again, Bill said that’s what Priscilla did, she took the kitten by the back of the neck.
“You said it was black?” I asked.
“Not exactly black, but very dark charcoal.” He said how the kitten wasn’t really scared in his hand, just bewildered. “She trusted me” he said, “she knew I was safe.”
And we both realized Priscilla only did determined trot, and did not fly across the living room, when she saw that Bill had her kitten, because she knew the kitten was safe with Bill. “Priscilla came in and rescued me” Bill said, “she knew I didn’t know what to do with the kitten, she solved everything.”
And we both realized that is why we have not seen Priscilla around so much for past two days. As long as all her kittens did was sleep and nurse, she was free to hang out with Bill as much as she wanted when she wasn’t actually nursing. But as Bill pointed out, now that the kittens have gotten rambunctious she has much more work to do. And it is true. Before, as long as Priscilla felt Beanie was not around, she could be hanging out with Bill or me or her house, occasionally she took recreation in the yard, I would see her thru open window in the sunshine. But the evening Bill found the kitten was after a day we had not seen Priscilla at all. Just for one minute in yard, while Bill was out in front yard with Beanie.
I wonder what Priscilla does do all the time now. I guess she has to hang with her kitties. She lets them crawl around in whatever space they are, but when they go too far, out into middle of big living room, she has to bring them back. Unless of course, after that episode, she did change their spot. It’s always possible she did bring them to some safe secluded spot in the yard, we will never know. That small black meowing thing in the palm of Bill’s hand is the only real evidence we have of the kittens. Everything else is deduction. She used to be so fat, now she has her figure back. She used to spend all her time on top of the refrigerator surveying everything, now she only comes at designated times.
When we got calm and relaxed and secure about the kittens yesterday, got confidence that Priscilla would manage everything perfectly and we didn’t have to worry, that she knows Beanie and would know how to keep kitties away from him, Bill said “you know, if we adopt that little kitten I will name him ‘Cupcake’ because it was exactly like having a chocolate cupcake in my hand.”
Desert wildflower (photo by Rusty Storbeck)
hahaha the truth is we are all unusual desert wildflowers, junior high is when we try to conform, but it has a happy ending, we take the long way around and wind back at our true selves...
April 5th, 2009, Sunday, 9:10 am
“Junior High School”8th grade had been quite a year for me. I had started out junior high school in a Rapid Advance class, which means doing 3 years of junior high in 2. My dad had done Rapid Advance way back when he was young plus skipped so many grades, that my aunt Ruth told me he graduated high school still in short pants. My mom did not want me to take Rapid Advance. She pointed out there are social things too, that because my birthday was April 4th and the cut-off date for starting school was April 30th, I was already youngest girl in my class and Rapid Advance would make me even younger, I would now be 2 years behind socially the other girls in my class. She thought that would be a mistake.
I had zero interest in any of her considerations. I didn’t even know what she was talking about when it was that time in 6th grade to take the test for Rapid Advance. It is a city-wide test, every 6th grader takes it every year. Rapid Advance was originally invented as a solution for overcrowding in NYC public schools. I don’t know when it started, very early I guess if my dad took it too, maybe when the huge immigration arrived. It meant doing junior high school in 2 years instead of 3. Everyone wanted to “make” Rapid Advance, I am not sure why now, I guess if you pass the test and make Rapid Advance it is like a Brownie badge, you are officially a smart kid. I don’t think I cared about doing Junior High in 2 years instead of 3, I couldn’t wait to start junior high. My idea of junior high was paradise because to me it meant being a teen-ager. I just wanted the ego of being labeled a smart kid and being in the smart kids class.
And I guess because all had worked out for my dad, he overrode my mom’s objections, I was allowed to be in Rapid Advance after I passed the test. All my cousins passed the test too, but I wonder if they took it. I assumed at the time they did, but now I realize they all graduated high school at the normal time, nobody skipped a year, and Rapid Advance would mean graduating high school year early.
But in fact I found Rapid Advance too hard. The work was too hard. I did not "get" French, I did not "get” science, which were both given in Rapid Advance but not given to any other 7th grader. And it was all I could do to understand the 7th grade version of geometry which was taught then. I knew I was failing and I had never failed at school before, I had been good at it. I became desperate and finally my mother realized what was going on and came to speak to the Assistant Principal and next day I was informed I was no longer in Rapid Advance, I was in a regular 7th grade class.
That might have been in the Spring. Since everything taught in my regular 7th grade class I had already learned in Rapid Advance, I just dreamed my way thru those last 4 months. I had to absorb the shock of what happened to me, my failure to be a smart kid. I saw all my classmates from Rapid Advance in the hall but kept away from them, I think I was ashamed. And I didn’t really make friends in my new class either. Altho I did become friends with Irene, she was an oddball like me, altho I was trying to fit in and I don’t think Irene was. We discovered we both liked to read so we would walk home from school together and talk about books. At that time I was just reading teen-aged romances which I took out of the school library, but Irene had read “Gone With The Wind” and kept raving about how great it was. So one day I took it out and read it too. I liked it.
When 7th grade ended, my mom said “regular 8th grade has a lot of special classes too, you can be in one of them.” The logical thing would have been to put me in Creative Writing, since writing was the one thing I could and liked doing. Maybe it was filled or maybe she didn’t want to listen to me, because she had enjoyed playing the flute so much in high school, she decided to put me in the orchestra class. And we spent that whole summer up in the Adirondacks with me trying to learn to flute.
And when 8th grade began there I was in Orchestra Class. And then my troubles began! That class had been together in 7th grade, was together now, and would be together in 9th grade. Each one played an instrument and they were all good at their instrument. However I had zero talent for music and zero talent for the flute. LOL again I was up against something which it was clear I would fail at. But that wasn’t my biggest problem with that class. My biggest problem was the year before there had been a very pretty girl in that class with very pretty clothes. And they had all tortured her to death and that Fall she changed schools. I wasn’t aware of it till I joined that class.
Altho I had remembered seeing that girl in the halls. I had liked all her petticoats. She would wear a skirt with many many crinolines, I liked it. But it didn’t take me long to find out that the previous year they had all worn “I hate Natalie” buttons to class, her name was Natalie, and made her life a hell. And I understood perfectly what went on because they were doing the same thing to me. My crime had been being in that smart class. They could have put two and two together and realized if I was no longer in that smart class, which now was a 9th grade class instead of an 8th grade class, it meant I couldn’t keep up, and I am sure they knew I had been taken out of it. But maybe logic has nothing to do with it. I don’t know why they made the decision to tear Natalie apart, maybe just because she was cute and dressed so cute, the ringleader of it may have resented that. And who knows, maybe it wasn’t because I had been in Rapid Advance that the ringleader got everyone after me. I always assumed that was my big crime but maybe I was just a new girl in class and there was bloodlust.
They tortured me for a long time and it was hard. I didn’t tell my mom, I didn’t tell anyone. But going to school was a nightmare for me. The instant I got home I put my nose in a book, I just wanted to escape. My mom didn’t understand and wanted me to go outside for fresh air. I refused. So finally she physically forced me off the couch where I was reading my book, and pushed me out the front door and locked it. And I just stood there. I guess you could say I had reached bottom.
And then one day the orchestra teacher had us each play solo so he could see how good we play. I was dreading it because I knew I could barely play at all, was faking it. The ringleader, Arlene, also played the flute, so did Marilyn Weiss. Marilyn Weiss was the best at flute, the ringleader was second. And really I was not in their class, I was in no class, I didn’t get music at all. And so when I had to play the flute alone, my terror came thru in every note.
And looking back at it now I wonder if that is what saved me. At the time after we put our instruments away and were on the steps Arlene came over to me and said “I really liked the way you played Anne, it made me cry.” And I said “thank you.” But it made no sense to me. I was a disaster. But now I think it liberated me. I mean I think the reason Arlene had organized “I hate Natalie” is because she had decided Natalie was stuck up, because she was pretty and wore pretty clothes. Arlene would have liked to be pretty and wear pretty clothes. She and Lynn were the two popular girls who got invited to all the boys’ Bar Mitzvahs, but I think Arlene was so popular by dint of personality. Lynn was a beautiful dresser and lovely girl. And I guess Arlene had decided I was stuck up because I had been in Rapid Advance. But after I had been such a colossal failure in music in the music class, a public failure, everyone in that class had held their breath in pure pity for me as I played. I guess Arlene felt it was no longer necessary to continue with my destruction. The torture campaign against me ended. Hahaha it turned out to be a wise move on my mom’s part to put me in that orchestra class after all.
Because very soon after that when I answered a question in science class right (we had Mrs. Simon for science, the same teacher I had had before in Rapid Advance for science when I could not “get” science and could not understand anything, now a year later I was starting to grasp what she was teaching) -- Arlene got excited when I answered the question right and asked me if I wanted to do science project with her. Of course I said yes. And she invited Lynn and Marsha to do it with us too. She and Lynn were tied because they were the two popular girls, and Marsha was included because she was Lynn's best friend.
And so we began to meet at my house on Friday nights, or whichever night it was, to discuss our science project plans, and we all became friends. And of course nothing could have been sweeter for me, after my long period of ostracism and torture, to be friends and have friends. We had a wonderful time at our science project meetings. We didn’t talk about our science project, that was quickly decided at first meeting, what we talked about was sex, which we were all hugely interested in.
And one Saturday morning we all went into the city together to the Museum of Natural History to look at their dioramas, we had decided to do dioramas for our science project. And we enjoyed that so much, we went back to the city another Saturday to go to the movies at one of the fancy movie palaces. We saw “Teacher’s Pet.” And then went for ice cream sodas across the street at Howard Johnson's. And another Saturday we came in to see “Bell, Book, and Candle” and had ice cream sodas again across the street. I don’t know who picked the movies, they were not ones I would have picked then, they were quite grown up. But interestingly now they are my two favorite movies, someone in that foursome had very good taste in movies.
Altho as a 12 year old, I did not become 13 till that April, my taste in movies ran to “Tammy” or “Roman Holiday.” I liked movies about runaway princesses or a young girl. “Teacher’s Pet” was about a very successful career woman, and it was in black and white, when I liked color movies. “Bell, Book, and Candle” was odd too.
I don’t think there are any words to describe my happiness that Spring. I was now included in my class. I became best friends with Marsha, we started to play squash together at the neighborhood playground. And I was getting interested in boys. The boys came into the handball court and that made it exciting. And Marsha’s great friend was Stefanie, they lived in same building, and Stefanie and I found out we had a lot in common. We both liked to read plus we liked each other a lot. I never did become close to Arlene or Lynn, a little closer to Lynn, but Stefanie and Marsha became my two best friends and I loved them and they loved me. And I stayed best friends with Stefanie all thru high school and to this day I miss her.
