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Kicking Rocks It Felt So Good to Kick the Rock and Say “Damnit”. Well Not Really Say the Word, but Whisper the Word

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Kicking Rocks It Felt So Good to Kick the Rock and Say “Damnit”. Well Not Really Say the Word, but Whisper the Word 1 Kicking Rocks It felt so good to kick the rock and say “Damnit”. Well not really say the word, but whisper the word. Over and over she kicked that rock, whispering the word, she knew sweet little girls weren’t supposed to say. “All my teachers think I’m sweet, but they’re wrong. I’m not sweet. I like kicking this rock. I like cussing.”. Zoey’s mom didn’t pick her up from school. “Mommy doesn’t care, neither do I”. “Damnit! I hate her!”, Zoey said it louder this time. She then remembered, God gets mad when you hate people. She knew she didn’t hate her mom. In fact, she felt really bad for saying that. Even thinking it made her feel ugly. Zoey was sure God couldn’t hear her thoughts. The Angels could, she was sure of that. She loved the Angels, they kept her going. She didn’t cry or feel sad when she knew the Angels were there. Zoey believed in Angels, but days like today she was too ashamed to talk to them. She knew they were real. She didn’t blame them because she blamed God. Mommy blamed God for everything. Zoey decided, again, like so many other times, “I won’t hate anyone ever again.” She focused her attention back to her rock. The rock today was smooth, and lovely. It had a swirl in the middle that made it look like it had a secret inside. Zoey had lots of secrets inside, she decided this rock was her friend. The colors in her new friend were soft and beautiful. They joined together and meshed, so friendly and in sync, like they understood each other. “Yes, this is a good rock”, thought Zoey. The days when Mommy left her waiting at school, these were the days she walked home. Kicking rocks. This rock was special, maybe even magical. “God gets mad when people believe in magic”, she thought. “God is a jerk”. She felt bad again. Back to her rock. Her only friend who would walk home with her. 2 “Left foot, right foot, damnit”. It felt like a song to Zoey; with a rhythm that kept her from feeling afraid. The long walk home became a rebellious adventure: She said the bad word with more feeling. A little louder each time. With each “damnit”, her resolve became stronger. She didn’t care that no one picked her up from school, or that kids made fun of her highwater jeans, or that she was walking alone for the fifth time in two weeks. She didn’t care that she was hungry. She didn’t care that she was bad. The Angels would love her, and God was a jerk anyway. “Mommy says ‘Goddammit’ when she’s mad”, thought Zoey. Although she was mad she also knew she wasn’t quite brave enough to say that word. She knew that God got mad when people said bad words, she did it anyway. Zoey knew she was afraid of God. Then Zoey wondered if she believed in God, and immediately felt guilty. She was afraid of Mommy. Afraid of Mommy being sick, but she believed in Mommy. Zoey realized she was cold, and that her fingers were numb. She decided then that it was her fault. “I’m shivering and cold, it’s because I make God mad.”. She had to stop cussing. She knew it. Zoey stopped saying that awful word, but without the whispered “damnit”, the song was broken. Then, grieving the loss of her warmth and her rhythm, she left the rock behind. Angry again, Zoey walked faster than before. She didn’t want to be angry. She wanted her mother, or her teacher, or just anyone to walk with. Or another rock. Just like always, she found herself thinking, wishing, and hoping. She hated it. Zoey was sweet and had honest eyes. People believed her, and she liked it that way. She lied to the teachers, and no one but Zoey the truth. Her Mommy was sick and forgot her sometimes. She waited like a sweet girl, and when it wasn’t too obvious, she’d grab her backpack, run for the road behind the school. Zoey liked to let her sweet teacher think that someone had finally 3 remembered to come get her. She kept her secret. Her secret made her feel as ugly as she did when she called God a jerk. These were the days she kicked her rocks home. She would leave the school, become invisible, no one knew where she was. No one saw her, and No one cared. Zoey could get mad. She thought the Angels still loved her. She was sure that God didn’t. Zoey thought, “Mommy is probably sick”. She trudged on. She missed her rock, her song, her teacher, her anger - her armor. She was too cold to be angry anymore. Feeling vulnerable, Zoey grudgingly tells God again how sorry she is for cussing and feeling so good about being mad. She asks the Angels to get her home safe, and thinks they might listen. It’s dark and she’s cold. “I’m sorry rock”, she thinks, “you were probably the best one. I hope I find you next time”. The sun is gone. Zoey is shivering, shaking, and her knee caps are jumping up and down. It feels like she still has so far to go. Since she’s not mad anymore, she hopes, maybe the Angels will help mommy remember she’s late. Zoey starts to watch for headlights, hoping her mom will come looking. Knowing she won’t. “Please forgive me, it won’t happen again”. Trying to pray again felt empty. Zoey didn’t mean it. If she knew anything, she knew that this would happen again. God wouldn’t understand, he gets mad super easy. Zoey clung to the belief that God only heard the things that came out of her mouth, and hoped she’d said enough good that he would forgive the cursing. As long as she didn’t lose her Angels, she had a chance. She’d already lost her rocks and her mommy. Zoey wished she could remember the one real prayer she knew. The one she learned at the meetings. Mommy learned the prayer there too. The one about changing. It was pretty. They went just a few times, that crazy church they used to go to. They didn’t go to church like 4 other people, not on a Sunday. They taught us the prayer while they smoked cigarettes and drank coffee. “In a church! At night!”, sadly she remembered how much she loved those nights. The smokers, they were nice to Zoey and they were nice to Mommy. When Mommy cried there, they hugged her and they told her to come back. One time, Zoey was hungry. An old man gave her a cookie, and then took her to Denny’s for an omelet. The old man even let Zoey have a Coke, and it was the best time and the best meal. Mommy had pancakes, and she didn’t get sick. That was a happy night for Zoey. Mommy smiled that night, a whole lot, but they never went back. Zoey missed that place. She missed when Mommy was happy, and she got to eat eggs at Denny’s, and she learned that pretty prayer. She should have been excited, she was rounding the hill, and Zoey knew she would soon see the steep driveway that led to the trailer. A twinge of hope crept up in Zoey’s stomach, a little ache that she knew not to trust. Regardless of what she knew, she hoped “maybe tonight Mommy might be home. Might tuck her in and say she was sorry for forgetting.”. The hope vanished, and the ache hurt worse. Probably not, but it made her happy for just a moment to picture it. Last night mommy was sorry for missing her birthday, but Zoey got to hug her mom She should’ve known better than to hope. She almost cussed again, but it wasn’t as fun without her rock. Zoey missed her rock. And her teacher. She had to tell the teacher yesterday that Mommy packed her lunch but she forgot it. Zoey smiled at the teacher and asked for a borrowed lunch, promising that she would bring money for it tomorrow. The teacher smelled like vanilla and honey when she hugged Zoey. She hated lying to her teacher. She felt uglier than before. Zoey really was hungry. “Maybe mommy got a cake, since she couldn’t yesterday”. The thought of a birthday cake, even a late one, motivated Zoey. Alone, without her rock, without a 5 God, wishing she could talk to her Angels, sorry for cussing and with a tiny bit of hope, she rounded the corner. Zoey saw the old trailer at the bottom of the steep hill. Her eyes popped open, still burning from the cold and trying not to cry. She saw them. They were there. She had almost given up, but there they were. The Angels. They weren’t like Zoey imagined but she knew it had to be them. They were flashing blue, bright, brilliant, beautiful lights all around her trailer. Zoey knew they were there, telling her everything was okay. They had heard her and she ran to them. She ran hard, heart pounding, sweating, smiling, gasping for breath in the cold air. They were there, not like she thought they would be, but there.
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