Fourteen: Angela in Blunderland, Part 1!
Angela's new house was a trailer. A seriously for real TRAILER.
HOW AWESOME WAS THAT?! It was almost like she was a real poor person, now! God, it was so exciting she couldn't not hardly believe it.
This was gonna be the best summer EVER.
Mom was all upset, but that's cuz she was taking it wrong. She took everything wrong. The divorce, the move, the new house, Dad humping the maid, everything. Her and Dad would get back together, they always did. This was temporary.
It was an adventure.
Dad didn't let them take any clothes or furniture or stuff, which was just the most obvious sign in the world. He didn't expect them to be gone long! He said he was just gonna burn it all, but that was just Dad's natural dramatic flair. He always went a little poetic whenever Mom savaged his genitals. He was always real calmed down by the time the stitches came out, though, so that was nothing new.
When Angela could drag her out of bed, Mary Sue would just kinda rock back and forth in the middle of the combination sitting room/dining room/rec room/breakfast nook and and talk about that one dream she was having where all her teeth would fall out. It was sort of nauseating, but that was really good, too, since they couldn't really afford food yet.
When the alimony checks started coming in, Angela mistook them for her allowance and spent half of the first payment on seasonal blushes and liquid foundation before Mary Sue found out. She pouted for the rest of the month over what they could manage to furnish the house with. Angie knew it didn't matter, though. They wouldn't need it when Dad and Mom got back together.
Mom was seriously just taking this completely the wrong way, and it was really weird that she was the only one who could see that.
See, Angie's parents weren't really divorced. Like, not one hundred percent for REAL. This was just kinda one of those things. Sort of... a vacation from one another. It was really cosmopolitan, when you thought about it.
If the divorce wasn't really a divorce, then the trailer home wasn't really their home. I mean, duh. Really. God. This was kind of... Kind of like camping. Angie would make her own dinners and sleep on an uncomfortable bed and stuff for maybe a week, maybe two weeks. And then she'd go back home, to her real house and her real bed and her real family, and stuff would go all normal again. But until then, Let's play TRAILER HOME!
She really couldn't see what was so hard to figure out about that. Mom was just really taking it way too seriously.
Since Mom was usually too busy crawling around on the bathroom floor in her underthings to bother, Angie was the one who called home, just to see if the folks had figured out when they'd all be moving back in together, yet. Weird thing was, Dad never wanted to talk about that kinda stuff. He was still pretending that divorce thing was all for real, which was kinda silly. But Angie knew this weird little game had rules, so she didn't make a big deal out of it. So she just kinda rolled her eyes again whenever Dad talked about Kaylynn. That was all gonna get really awkward when he and Mom got back together.
Kaylynn was the maid. Used to be, anyway. Now, Dad said they were engaged. Yeah, right. Good one, Dad.
Dad and Mom had fought about her before, but Angie thought it was all a little over the top, this time. It was just getting a little... You know. A little too serious. It was hard to tell he didn't really mean it, anymore.
And last time she called, Dad was a little ... confused.
Dad said that Kaylynn was "getting situated." She was wearing Mom's clothes now, and jewelry and make-up, and doing her hair. It was kind of funny to think of Kaylynn that way. Kaylynn was a maid. Those weren't really people. They were the help. What if strangers or new neighbors came to the house? They probably wouldn't know she was the maid at all. Dad never thought about these things.
But that wasn't even the weird part.
Dad said Kaylynn was wearing one of Mom's dresses around the house... cooking an omlette in a evening gown, if you can believe that... and managed to set herself on fire. On. FIRE.
Angie wasn't the only one having adventures.
But then, to hear Dad tell it, things got... um... supernatural.
The story was never the same twice, but Daniel seemed to think he'd brought the maid back from the dead. He'd get all confused and start gibbering when Angie pressed for details, though. There usually something in there about "energy" and "toxins" and "spiritual cleansing," but not so that any of it made sense.
It was kind of scary. Angie didn't think it was part of the act.
Mom was always a sucker for that mystical stuff, but never Dad. Heck, he was the one who microwaved her Whale Songs of the Crystal Jungle CD after she put that bottle glass in his pancakes. But he sounded really sincere. He was talking about "sharing his gift." Holding "healing circles" that would "pierce the veil."
And he began to correct Angie whenever she called him "Dad."
"No, my sweet spirit," he would say. "Swami Daniel," he would say. "But Swami Dad is fine, too."
Swami Dad said he had come across his purpose the very night of "The Holy Incident," in mid-pork with Kaylynn. The usual crushing chest pains he experienced halfway through coitus were, instead, replaced with a giddy, transcendent lightheadedness. Kaylynn was satisfied to write her similar experience off as smoke inhalation, but not Dad.
So now, he was a guru. Kinda. He said his official swami name was "Absurdly Perfect Being of Stupefying Purity" in The Secret Language, but he would keep his lowly meat-name of "Daniel" to avoid intimidating the sweet, sweet spirits of this... quaint... level of existence.
Angela understood, in a way. But you'd think a being of stupefying purity would be a little better about paying his alimony on time. Not that it mattered, really; it was all temporary. And when Swami Dad and Mom got back together, this dot-n-turban stuff could only help matters.
After all, it wasn't like Dan and Mary Sue were the only ones in love.