Thursday, June 4, 2009
It is 8:00 am and I am walking down the dirt road that leads to my parents home . I hear that song by Anita Bell called Ring My bell blaring from the fountain shop on the corner owned by my dads compadre . I wonder if it is Melissa , my dads goddaughter, who is a meth addict , listening to this song . I get closer to the corner and remember Melissa as a teenager and how she would wear garbage bags and dance to old school disco songs in the living room of my parents halfway built split level home with no air-conditioning. It was the middle of summer in Arizona. She would do these amazing high kicks and twirls .
As I get closer I see Melissa sweeping her fathers shop and say hi. She asks if I am going running then in the same breath she suggested I purchase a speedometer to keep track of miles ran and some “slow burning” tanning oil .