relative
I got a call last night from my cousin Chris just as I was working on the last blog. It was 2am here and 2am there. He's in cincinatti. I hesitate to say "lives". He's homeless and generally in and out of prison. He first started calling me when we were still in philly. The doc and I were coming back from a bar downtown when patrick texted his phone and said for us to come home right away, that my cousin needed to talk to me.
I have a lot of cousins. A lot of crazy ones too. I hadn't spoken to chris in years, not since I took him to play miniature golf and bought him a slice of pizza for his eighteenth birthday a few years back when I lived at the jersey shore. I didn't even speak to him when he showed up to visit my grandmother on her deathbed. No one did. He spent the whole time sleeping on the sand dunes and skating in town, probably getting high with our other cousin closer to his age. So he was really and truly the last cousin I thought would be calling me at 1am with an urgent need to talk to me.
He was drunk that night, talking about suicide, living on the streets, his girlfriend who'd lost his baby, how he was going to jail soon. It was fight. Over some girl at a party and the cops showed up. Cincinatti is not a nice town. Philly has it's ghetto, but Cincinatti is one. Christopher has been running and living on the streets since he was fifteen. His mother is a drunk and he never new his dad. sound like a bad movie. His sisters for some reason have fared better. Their darkness manifests itelf in ways more acceptable in society. Apathy, self-hatred, bad relationships, self sacrifice, sluttiness. Christopher though, since he was a kid, has always raged. When we were kids I used to play with him sometimes, sensing in a weird way how much of an outsider he imagined he was. I used to play video games with him or go rollerblading.
When he called that night this is what he talked about, at length. How he always appreciated what I did for him. it took me a moment to remember, and then another to register that having a 13 yr old girl go to the arcade with him was one of his best memories of childhood.
He's a brilliant skateboarder. It's really true. He's had offers for amateur deals left and right over the past few years and he's turned them all down in favor of jobs in grocery stores and borger joints. It sickens me.
A friend of mine came to visit me a few years ago, around the same time I had bought him pizza and golf, and she said she spied him skating around town. She's lived in philly for years and known skaters forever like anyone of our generation. She said he looked glorious. fluid and beautiful, pulling some strange trick as he crossed the avenue.
so he called last night as he has called many times since that first night. He's out of jail now, on probation. He says he stopped smoking pot. Only drinks. Tells me stories about how he used to smoke crack about a year and a half ago. tells me about the tent he stole from someones basement and was sleeping in the cemetery with it. said he had a dream he had pitched the tent on the railroad tracks and could hear the train coming. he woke up hearing the train in the distance, but had tore the tent down in his sleep with fear.
He's been breaking into houses more and more to eat and steal necessary things. he said sometimes his mom lets him sleep at her house. last night was one of those times.
I have a lot of cousins. A lot of crazy ones too. I hadn't spoken to chris in years, not since I took him to play miniature golf and bought him a slice of pizza for his eighteenth birthday a few years back when I lived at the jersey shore. I didn't even speak to him when he showed up to visit my grandmother on her deathbed. No one did. He spent the whole time sleeping on the sand dunes and skating in town, probably getting high with our other cousin closer to his age. So he was really and truly the last cousin I thought would be calling me at 1am with an urgent need to talk to me.
He was drunk that night, talking about suicide, living on the streets, his girlfriend who'd lost his baby, how he was going to jail soon. It was fight. Over some girl at a party and the cops showed up. Cincinatti is not a nice town. Philly has it's ghetto, but Cincinatti is one. Christopher has been running and living on the streets since he was fifteen. His mother is a drunk and he never new his dad. sound like a bad movie. His sisters for some reason have fared better. Their darkness manifests itelf in ways more acceptable in society. Apathy, self-hatred, bad relationships, self sacrifice, sluttiness. Christopher though, since he was a kid, has always raged. When we were kids I used to play with him sometimes, sensing in a weird way how much of an outsider he imagined he was. I used to play video games with him or go rollerblading.
When he called that night this is what he talked about, at length. How he always appreciated what I did for him. it took me a moment to remember, and then another to register that having a 13 yr old girl go to the arcade with him was one of his best memories of childhood.
He's a brilliant skateboarder. It's really true. He's had offers for amateur deals left and right over the past few years and he's turned them all down in favor of jobs in grocery stores and borger joints. It sickens me.
A friend of mine came to visit me a few years ago, around the same time I had bought him pizza and golf, and she said she spied him skating around town. She's lived in philly for years and known skaters forever like anyone of our generation. She said he looked glorious. fluid and beautiful, pulling some strange trick as he crossed the avenue.
so he called last night as he has called many times since that first night. He's out of jail now, on probation. He says he stopped smoking pot. Only drinks. Tells me stories about how he used to smoke crack about a year and a half ago. tells me about the tent he stole from someones basement and was sleeping in the cemetery with it. said he had a dream he had pitched the tent on the railroad tracks and could hear the train coming. he woke up hearing the train in the distance, but had tore the tent down in his sleep with fear.
He's been breaking into houses more and more to eat and steal necessary things. he said sometimes his mom lets him sleep at her house. last night was one of those times.
posted by emily at 12:47:00 PM
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