A page out of my book-The Gingerbread House on LaCollina Drive-Her Gilded Cage

Chapter Two:
Her Gilded Cage

(A page from Chapter Two-unedited version)

 

               

               

For the first few weeks, I dreamt about my mother, she had no face.  Standing in a doorway she waved to me, welcoming me back home.   Excited to see her I make my way towards her but the closer I feel I’m getting, the further away she became.  I started to run out of panic but she is gone before I reach her. Not giving up, I continue to run as fast as I could until I find myself looking out from the back window of a familiar car.  Below me I see the street lines zipping by taking me away from my mother.  I felt trapped and restricted.  I began to bang on the window hoping to brake free screaming “I WANT MY MOM” but the station wagon keeps on driving away. I hear Mrs. Erickson’s voice from behind me as she drove in the car. “You’re the problem, I’m taking you away” was all she said, over and over again all I hear is “I’m taking you away.”  It echoes in my mind and I just want it to end I want to escape and so I go back to banging on the window with all my might, until it shatters into a thousand fragments. I than find myself falling, and I see street lines zipping by me faster and faster until I awaken.

 

            Although Gary was next to me in bed, I felt alone and sad.  It wasn’t the first time I’ve had that dream, but each time it seems my mother is going further away and her face is becoming more unrecognizable. I could no longer remember what she looked like, and wonder if I even ever knew her. Something else about the dream that up till then I tried not to think about, her waving to me.  For a long time I thought she was waving hello, that she was welcoming me back home but perhaps she was saying goodbye.

                In the passing weeks at the house, I began to address Mrs. and Mr. Spector as Mom and Dad. The Christmas decorations were all gone, all that remained was the tree, stripped of its ornaments and lights as it stood neglected wilting away.  When it was nothing more than a lifeless tree brittle to the touch, it was thrown out. A trail of dead pine needles leading out the front door was all that was left behind, until Mr. Bill, the maintenance man, vacuumed them away.

                Mom was often lost in thought, with a cigarette in one hand and a glass of wine in the other she often gazed out the window, longing for some kind of freedom.  She felt trapped and alone. Her singing career was on hold so she could raise a family, only she couldn’t even do that as that job was also taken from her. Once a lead singer in the group The Ronettes, singing songs such as “Be My Baby” she was slowing becoming like the Christmas tree, wilting away, stripped of her glamor and sparkle.  It was too much too soon, a mansion in Beverly Hills, three kids many dogs and all in a short amount of time. Though she seldom left the house, she hardly seemed present.  Even if in the same room she was somewhere else, detached and alone.  The only thing that awoke her from her trance, was the sound of Dad’s voice screeching through the hallways calling out for her and promptly she went. Her only escape would be signing up to Alcoholics Anonymous. Weather she felt she needed it or not, was not the concern, getting away from Phil Spector was.