Hope Pukes

Please refer to the beginning of this blog if this is the first time you have read it. This is a series...

Hope didn’t speak to anyone for days following Doodie’s passing. She had called her ex when Doodie put his nose to hers and they agreed it was time.  A person doesn’t spend their entire adult life with a dog and not know what they are saying. It’s like a child in most ways. It’s a huge loss and leaves an individual empty and vacant.

The following weekend Hope met up with her friends. She was still very upset but knew she needed a distraction. They all went out and Hope started drinking in a way she never had before. The Crown Royal was going down like water after being lost in the desert for two days. It probably wasn't the healthiest way to deal with grief but a good drunk once in a blue moon never hurt anyone. Well, until the next morning that is.  At 2 a.m. when getting in the cab she knew she was in trouble. The cab driver was driving like Jeff Gordon on crack with Rusty Wallace chasing him.

“I’m going to be sick” she bellowed while muttering something else about “If I wasn’t so drunk Ali Baba would have my foot shoved up his ass for driving like a monkey with a banana allowance.”

“Just hold on a minute” her friend Liz said to her as the cab driver took the next corner on two wheels.

The cab came to a stop and Hope fell out of the cab and stumbled towards Liz’s apartment, walked in the door said "oh fuck," backed up, bounced off the door frame then turned around to walk up a flight of stairs, across the lawn area and grabbed a tree and lost some contents.

Liz wanted to assist, however laughter consumed her. Hope was only four steps from the bathroom when the country girl in her came out. Talk about nature called.

The following day she heard the story and was told she was 4 or 5 steps away from the bathroom when she turned around to be with nature. Hope was on the couch nursing her hang over, listening to her voicemail and stories of her drunkenness.

Suddenly she went lifeless again. The message was to tell her of her friend Belinda’s death. She sat there with no expression. Too afraid to say anything because how in the hell could this happen again? Her friends were going to think she was a magnet for demise. “What in the fuck is going on” she thought.

Hope had experienced three deaths in thirty three days. What were the odds? Not only did she have those three deaths to grieve but her home of 9 years was gone. The love of her life was gone. Now Hope was in a strange new region with none of her longtime friends. Experiencing grief for the first time was no easy task for the girl. The walls were being built higher and higher.

“My friend Belinda died” she explained to her Mom on the phone.
“What?” her Mom replied. “How, are you serious?”
“No, I am making the shit up Mom. I suggest you stay away from me if you value you your life because people around me are dropping like flies.”
“No kidding, are you okay?”
“I don’t know anymore. I think I should go to the funeral but I don’t want to go to Houston but I am going to. I will be back in Washington in a couple of days” she replied as she hung up.

Upon returning to Washington Hope simply had no will to exist. She was not suicidal but simply did not care. She managed to make it day to day. Depression, grief, and fear were overwhelming her. Doodie was missed beyond comprehension. It was clearly time to attend more therapy sessions. Yet she trudged on, gathering with friends on the weekend, meeting new people and working during the week.

It was a beautiful time of the year to be in Seattle and people enjoyed Hope’s company. There was something about her personality which seemed addictive. She attended barbeques, picnics, volleyball games, gatherings, clubs and parties. There is no way to determine how many people she had met. Every person was instrumental in her healing process.

Mitch and Hope had been friends prior to his marriage to her Mother, Barbie. They met in Texas where they worked together. He was from Michigan and had no family in Texas. She invited him to her Mother’s home for Christmas 14 years ago and he never left. He is only a few years older than Hope, three to be exact. They spent many of the evenings during the week together. She was starting to emerge a little from her depression. Mitch provided a good ear to her as well as teaching her the “ways” of the island life. 

Recycling is a must on Vashon Island. Hope remembers reading articles about Vashon prior to her arrival and she had visited numerous times. According to census reports there are many lesbians with 1.8 children on the average. Hope wasn’t sure how someone could have .8 of a child. Were they missing legs, arms or was it their mentality? It must be a slow child. Poor kid!

Two grocery stores exist on the Island. One is the favorite of the two. It caters to the organic Hippy like residents. This makes up about 88% of the island. With a new region come new rules which Hope was learning by the day. She went grocery shopping one afternoon. When checking out the checker asked if she had any bags. Hope looked the cart over and didn’t see any. What in the hell is he talking about?  Surely she didn’t need to point out the obvious to this long haired jack ass.

“Umm, no sir I don’t have any” she replied

The man gave her a dirty look and said “we charge 10 cents per bag; you need to bring your own. Do you want to pay the ten cents?”

Hope thought, “What am I supposed to say? Well what the fuck do you think? Just shove the shit back in the cart and I will push it out to the car and dump it like a load of sand in to my trunk.” Instead she replied quietly, “Yes I will need the bags.”

Hope looked around at the other shoppers and sure enough most had these little cloth bags in their carts. She just knew at any moment there would be an announcement from the loudspeaker “lady in checkout lane number 2 forgot her own bag.”

She looked at the man bagging her groceries with double bags and thought “Damn and they look at me as if I had just dumped toxic waste in Puget Sound.”

Hope brought in the groceries and asked Mitch about the cloth bags. He informed her there were 3 in the trunk of the car. She should have known this. If there were a natural disaster Mitch is prepared to live months out of the car. Her friend Dorothy had been out to visit her on the island and mentioned if an earthquake hit Seattle she would be the first one on the ferry to live comfortably at Mitch and Barbie’s home.

Hope liked the housekeeper named Ying. Obviously, an Asian woman if you didn’t figure that one out on your own. She was the topic of many journal entries. The earliest time she realized Ying was a source of entertainment was the first time she laughed after Doodies passing. Ying showed up at her usual time to clean the house. Hope was walking up the stairs to get more coffee. Ying inquired about the whereabouts of 'the little dog.' Hope looked down at the floor and said “He was sick and didn’t make it through and died.” Because of the language barrier Ying looked at her and said “Oh, no wonder he so quiet.”

Hope couldn’t help but laugh. It was the laughter she needed.

Unfortunately Ying could not read English either.  One day she decided to spot clean the carpet with bleach cleaner. Barbie was furious and begged Mitch to find out if she was insured. The argument over his refusal to do so was escalating and Hope interrupted the shouting and said “I don’t know what the big deal is. We can now play twister whenever we feel like it now.” Damn, why do people have to be so serious about everything? Man.

The truth is Hope was growing frustrated with Mitch’s behavior towards Barbie. She was close to wishing he fell off a cliff or super glued his lips shut. The problem was Hope did not know what to do about it.