Out of Control

22-year-old Tess is confronted about her dangerous lifestyle and given an ultimatum

I don’t think a day has gone by in the past year that my mother hasn’t told me to grow up.  Sometimes the phrase is accompanied by a heavy object being hurled through the air toward my head.  Thank God she doesn’t have very good aim.  I suppose if I were smart I would pack up my belongings and move out on my own.  By the age of 22 most of my friends have already graduated from college and have landed their first real job.  But, there are still some like me who continue to go out and party every night, sleep through most of the day, and feign ignorance as to why no one will hire us when in truth we never show up for the interview in the first place.  

Growing up in L.A. with a semi-famous mother and a slew of eager, younger step-fathers had to share the blame for my current situation.  Now as my mother edged toward fifty and her boyfriends hovered near my age, I tried not to be around as much.  I would crash at my friends’ penthouses, go home with random men, or sometimes even wake up on the sidewalk outside the latest club.

I’ll be the first to admit, I might have a small problem.  I drink too much.  I am way too trusting when someone says “try this” and hands me a pill, powder or liquid.  But I’m looking for something that I just can’t seem to find.  But I know it’s out there.  My best guess is that it’s love.  I never really got any from my mother and I have never met my grandparents.  It’s anyone’s guess who my biological father is.  

So when I opened my eyes this morning, I wasn’t surprised to find myself in a strange bed.  I tried to focus in the hazy sunlight, but the glare was just too painful.  I turned over to avoid the invading daggers of blinding California sunshine and came face to face with last night’s partner.  A throaty laugh came from him as he pulled me closer under the lumpy blanket.   Horror raced through my entire body like a line of cocaine laced with LSD.  I struggled under the heavy covers to push away from him and stumble off the bed.  His laugh came louder and was combined with the wracking cough of a smoker.  

“Whasamatter Tess?  You sure weren’t complaining last night”  his face contorted into a broken smile as he sat up in the bed and reached for his Marlboro’s.  Frank.  The latest man to call my mother his woman.

I pulled on my short skirt, tank and heels (was that all I wore to the bar?) grabbed my Louis bag and busted out of the small, dank apartment.  My cell was dead and I couldn’t find any of my credit cards.  There were only 3 dollars in my bag - nowhere near enough for a cab from Downtown to Malibu.  I grabbed a pony tail holder out of my purse and tried to contain the long mop of fake blonde, including the extensions I just had put in last week, into a less hooker-esque style.  Kleenex and a bottle of water came next to clear off last night’s makeup.   Finally I pulled out a pair of flats and a long scarf to cover myself up a little better.  This wasn’t my first walk of shame.  

About a half mile down the road, Frank’s old blue Toyota pulled up next to me.  He was still grinning that lopsided smile.  

“I’ll walk.  I’m not getting into your car” I said, meaning every word.  I didn’t care if it would take me until dinner time to get back home.  It was worth it not to have to show up on my mother’s doorstep WITH her latest boyfriend.  

Frank kept following me for another two blocks.  He’d honk every now and then so I would startle and he would laugh.  How in the WORLD did I get to this place?  I was never more disgusted in my life.  I didn’t even know what I would say to my mom.  She was going to kill me for sure.  I better think up something …. and fast.  

Frank stopped his car and jumped out.  He stood in front of me with his hands on my arms.  I glared at him as angrily as I could - but I knew it was hard for me to look menacing with my big blue eyes.  I thought about kicking him in the nuts.  In fact I was just about to when I heard him say my Mother’s name.  

“What did you say?” I asked him in my most threatening tone.

“She doesn’t know.   Bree called your mother last night and told her you were completely out of it and she was afraid that you were going to get hurt.”

Bree is supposed to be my best friend.  She is little more than a wannabe starlet that has a huge appetite for men and alcohol, much like myself.

“  I was with Amanda when the call came through.  She TOLD me to come and get you.  The bar was out this way so she asked me to drive you home in the morning.  Geez, chill.  I’m not stupid - I wouldn’t mess up what I’ve got with her.  So she expects me to drive you back Tess.  Get in the car and let’s go”  

Relief flooded through my entire body.  I felt ten shades cleaner and the vise on my brain had loosened by half.  I got into his embarrassment of a car and buckled myself in.  Frank took off toward home and I shuffled things around in my bag looking for some aspirin.  

“Why didn’t you tell me that we didn’t sleep together?  You could have saved me a whole lot of self loathing” I said to him across the wind whipping my pony tail in front of my face.  

He grinned again and put his hand on my thigh.  “Oh babe, we DID have sex.  Several times.  I’m just saying your Mom has no idea” ****************************************************************************************************

Our house was in Malibu beach.  I’d grown up watching the surfers, joggers, tourists and beach bums outside our dining room window.  I saw my mother watching as Frank’s car pulled up alongside the house.  She seemed happy, so maybe what he had told me was the truth.  Maybe she had no idea.  

I slunk in the side door and walked swiftly to the back of the house where my bedroom was.  I grabbed some shorts and a t-shirt and jumped in the shower to let the hot water burn away the night before.  I smelled of beer, smoke, whiskey and sex - which is generally what I smelled like every morning when I snuck through the door.  I planned to fall into bed and sleep until I could put this disaster behind me.

I combed out my wet hair and thought I smelled bacon cooking - but that was impossible.  My mother was no cook.  Once dressed, I crawled under the covers and pulled on my sleeping mask.  I was just about asleep when I heard a tap at my bedroom door.

“TessAnne?  Come  have breakfast with us dear”  I sat up quickly and pulled off my eye mask.  He must have told her.  He had to have.  She was going to kill me with arsenic in my food.  That had to be it.  There was no other explanation.

“I’m not hungry mom.  Thanks”

“Please, Frank went to all the trouble of making you banana pancakes, your favorite”

I decided that it would be easier to die from poisoning than if she were to beat, shoot or stab me, so I walked into the kitchen.  

I sat at the table facing the Pacific and poured myself a glass of milk.  Frank handed me a plate full of pancakes and bacon.  I glared at him and took the plate.  Mother was already eating, but I assumed that her food didn’t have any arsenic in it.  

Mother was not yet dressed, but sitting in a white silk robe.  She was still a pretty woman at 50, which was why she still received a small part in a movie or tv show now and then.  

“SO what’s with breakfast?”  I asked, knowing there was some type of ulterior motive behind the bacon.  

Frank and Amanda exchanged looks and I knew this couldn’t be good.

“Frank filled me in on what happened last night Tess.  I think it’s time that we made some changes.  This is obviously not working out anymore”.

I stole a furtive glance at Frank and he shook his head, so I continued to listen.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve been found in a seedy bar in a bad area of town surrounded by men, doing drugs and so out of it that you don’t even know who you are.  Frank told me that you had no idea who he was when he took you from the bar, that you thought he was one of your conquests! You should be thanking him for being such an upright, honest man”  

She took that moment to smile at Frank and he beamed back at her.  They held hands across the table and I could see him squeezing her fingers.  

I felt sick.  I was SO tempted to tell her what an ‘upright, honest man’ he was!  But if I did, she would probably take his side and never speak to me again.  So I kept my mouth shut.

“So, TessAnne, I’ve made a decision.  You have two options, and only two.  First, your aunt has agreed to have you come and live with her for the next year, so you can get straightened out.  She will help you get enrolled into a college or at least lead you toward a career path while helping you get off these drugs and stop the drinking”  

I started to speak - to ask her who in the hell this aunt was that she had never told me about - but she gave me a look that made me continue to hold my breath.

“Second, you can get out of my house and live on your own.  HOWEVER, you will not get your inheritance when you reach 25.  I know it’s not a fortune, but I’ve invested well over the years and it is enough to buy a home and start a business or something substantial to begin your life.  But if you don’t choose option one, you forfeit the money.”  

Tears began to roll down my cheeks.  No matter what, I had to leave.  I had to leave my room, my bed, my view of the ocean.  I had to leave my friends and my life.  If I stayed here I would have to find someone to live with, get a job, and then?  And who was this aunt?  My mom had a sister I didn’t know about?  

“Was this Frank’s idea?” I asked, glaring at the both of them, tempted to tell her that he had taken advantage of me.  

“Actually it wasn’t” he said “When she got the call last night and asked me to pick your sorry a*s up, she said she had reached the end of her rope.  She wants you out babe.  Now start packing”

“It’s Thanksgiving in two days - and you want me to just walk out the door?  You don’t even care?”  I asked my Mom, my breakfast churning in my stomach.  She just lit a cigarette and looked out the window.

I got up from the table and overturned my plate of pancakes and glass of milk.  I kicked the chair and stomped down the hallway.  Fine!  They wanted to get rid of me?  Then I’d go.  I’d leave and I’d………..   I’d what?  I had no real friends.  No experience to get a job.  Nowhere to go.  What in the hell was I going to do??????

I weighed the options put in front of me.  Every ounce of my being wanted to just tell them to leave me the hell alone, walk out and never look back.  But that wouldn’t be a smart move.  Maybe I would go to my aunt’s for a month or two, figure everything out and then take off.  Yeah, that really was the only thing to do.  

Without further tears or hesitation, I took my two large suitcases out of my walk-in closet and began filling them with all my favorite designer clothes.  The one good thing about my mother, she had always been easy with the cash and credit cards.  I loaded up the jeans, tops, dresses, pajamas, shoes, scarves, jewelry, belts and everything else I could squeeze into the oversized rolling cases.  I grabbed a carry on and filled it with all my makeup, bathing gear, hair care, and perfumes.  Another bag full of my purses, sketch pads and all my colored pencils and pastels.  

An hour later I was ready to go.  I told my Mother that I had decided to go stay with this “aunt” she had made up out of the blue.  Seriously at this point, I didn’t care who the hell she was.  

I sat in the old leather recliner in the corner of the living room, across from my mother and Frank, cuddled up on the red patterned couch.  My mother was an aging beauty.  Crystal blue eyes, beach blonde hair, perfectly proportioned body and a glowing smile.  Such a California girl.  Frank was a typical scruffy b*****d she had found playing a dive bar out in San Bernadino a few months back.  

“I’m ready to go”  I said, barely louder than a whisper.

My Mom sat up and nodded her head.  “I’ll call Shelby and then Frank can drive you to the airport.”

My head whipped around to look at them both.  “Airport??  Where am I going exactly?”  

Frank grinned his lecherous smile.   “Your Aunt Shelby lives in Idaho”  he paused to let his words sink in “On an old farm”  Another smile.  “I’m sure you’ll just love it there”

*************************************************************************************************

Airplane flights had never bothered me before, but this one had been insane.  The flight had been full of turbulence and I had been sitting next to a dark-haired man who smelled of motor oil and allspice.  There were not one, but two screaming babies and the flight attendant ignored me the entire trip.  I was more than ready when the plane touched down in the Boise airport.  I had spent most of my time learning all there was to know about my temporary home.  

Horseshoe Bend, Idaho.  Under 800 residents.  And it was COLD.  Freaking cold.  That was about all I could find on Google.  Scary stuff.  

My Aunt Shelby was supposed to meet me at the luggage pick up.  I had no idea what she looked like or if she would even be there.  I easily found my way down to the conveyer belts and kept my eye out for my Louis luggage.  I looked around, trying to see if I could catch anyone’s eye, but no one seemed to be waiting for me.

I finally saw my bags rounding the corner and I pushed my way through the small crowd to grab the first large bag.  I sat it next to me and went for the second one, but it went around the bend before I could grab the handle.  A woman in a cornflower blue coat and matching eyes grabbed the bag and yanked it off the carousel.  She rolled it over to me and gave me a tentative smile.  

“TessAnne?”  she asked in a soft, comforting voice.  

I smiled and held my hand out for her to shake.  She held it gently in her hand and then pulled me in for a hug.  

“How did you know it was me?”  I asked “Do I look that much like my mother?”  I knew that I did resemble her, but then again, my aunt may have had pictures of me over the years as well.  

Shelby feigned a laugh and shook her head.  “Oh no dear, you have your father’s eyes!”  

I stepped back and crossed my arms across my chest.  I know the look on my face must have alarmed her.  

“So you are my FATHER’S sister?”  I asked her suspiciously.  

“Last time I checked”  she laughed.  

“I don’t even know who my father is - let alone who you are.  Maybe this was a mistake”  

Shelby pulled a worn wallet out of her purse and flipped through a few pictures.  She showed me a picture of myself at about 3 years of age with a handsome man who did, indeed, share my eyes.  And Shelby’s too, although the shape was different.  Then she showed me a picture of Shelby and myself at the same time.  

“Is this the last time you saw me?” I asked.  I was so confused.  I had no idea what in the world was going on and I felt completely out of control.

“It is.  But not by our choice.  Your mother reconciled with your father for a short time.  She came back home and we were so happy to have you here with us!  It only last a short while.  Your mother got a job in a soap opera and she took you back to LA.  We exchanged a few phone calls over the years, but she made it clear that she didn’t want us to be a part of your life.  Or hers.  Then she called me out of the blue two days ago and said you needed help.”  

She began to pull my largest bag toward the exit sign.  I pulled the other behind me, topped with my two oversized carry ons.  I followed her through the walkway to the parking structure.  She led me to an 8-passenger van.  

“It’s about a 35-minute drive to the farmhouse.  Would you like to get something to eat before we get there?”  Shelby asked warmly.  

I shook my head, too full of questions to be worried about food at this point.  

We loaded up my luggage and we headed out to the main highway.  

“Why did you agree to let me stay with you for awhile?”  I asked out of curiosity.

She smiled again and handed me a brochure.  “FIrst of all, you are family.  Second of all, this is what we do!”  

I looked down at the three booklets she had handed me.  There was a picture of a beautiful sprawling farm house on close to 100 acres of land.  Underneath the picture read “Ephesians Farm”  Tess flipped through a few pages before she realized what type of farm she was going to.  She felt like she was going to panic and flip out, but she tried to keep her wits about her.

“Your home is for the troubled?”  she asked plainly.  

Shelby shook her head.  “Your mother didn’t tell you anything at all, did she?”

I shook my head.  “Nothing at all”  

“Ephesians Farm is a private home.  We sponsor up to five young people, ages 16-24, who are having difficulties in one way or another.  It could be drugs or alcohol, depression, acting out, or some just feel plain lost and need to be found.  We are a Christian home and we expect you to be respectful at all times.  You will accompany us to church on Wednesday evenings and Sunday mornings.  Weekly Bible study on Fridays.  Everyone is expected to participate.”

I sat there baffled.  Wordless.  My mother KNEW they were Jesus freaks and she didn’t tell me?  Because she knew I wouldn’t have come.  I would never have come.  

“TessAnne?  Are you alright dear?”  she asked quietly.  

“I don’t know if I can do this Aunt Shelby.  I’ve pretty much taken care of myself since I was about 8 years old.  I’ve done whatever I’ve wanted.  I’m used to hanging out with my friends, going out to parties, meeting guys and drinking.  Sometimes even worse.  I don’t think I’m right for this program.  I’m not a Christian.  I will probably mess everything up.  Maybe you should turn around and send me back home”

Shelby patted my leg.  I knew she was trying to comfort me, but it ended up annoying me instead.  Let me tell you a little about the people we have in our program now, and then you can tell me if you think you’ll fit in.”

Joslyn is our youngest.  She’s 17.  She was kicked out of three schools for outrageous behavior.  She has given birth to two children, both given up for adoption.  She was a meth addict when she came to us, shortly before her 17th birthday, five months ago.  

Jesse is 18.  He came from the foster system.  He likes to start fires.  When he was 16, he burned down his foster mother’s home with her inside it.  Thank the Lord she managed to get out in time.  

Olivia will be your age next week.  She is a liar and a thief.  She slept with her college history professor and then turned him into the dean, saying that he raped her.  She recanted after he paid her 5,000 dollars.  Shortly after she was caught shoplifting for the 5th time and had the choice to come here or to jail.

And David.  Oh David.  She shook her head.  

“David turned 24 last month.  He has suffered from depression and other mental illnesses for as long as I can remember.  He is the son of a dear friend of mine.  He finally came to us after his 3rd suicide attempt nearly claimed his life.  He’s a sweet, charming young man with so much potential, but he just has this dark sadness inside of him”  

“So you see TessAnne.  None of these young people are perfect.  None of them came to us as Christians.  We do not force you to give your life to Christ, we just ask for your participation and attendance.  Your relationship with God is entirely your business.  So why don’t you give us 30 days.  Stay with us through the holidays, and if you decide after that we are not the right fit for you, I will buy you a ticket back to LA.  Is that a deal?”

I wondered if I belonged with these people.  I was a liar.  A thief.  I slept around.  Did drugs.  Drank alcohol.  Shoplifted a time or two.  I had never started a fire, but I had inadvertently hurt people when I was high.  Where else did I have to go?

I looked at my newly found aunt and nodded my head.  “Thirty days”.