Don't Let Me Die In A Motel 6 or One Woman's Struggle Through The Great Recession (30 page)

She never made it to Seattle.
Her next stop was Oakland, America’s most dangerous city.
She was put up by this guy and one of his girls in a series of cheap motels.
There,
they plied her
with
liquor; shot her up with Ecstacy in vodka.
She was made to walk the streets – in tight leggings, a spangled top, and thigh-high boots
,
all of
which I’ve seen – and sell herself as a
bay
prostitute.
She serviced as many as six men a night.

Back in L.A., we were frantic.
We didn’t know where she was.
We gave her
photo
to local police
;
Nigel
visited
her favorite haunts:
the m
alls, the buses.
Nothing.

El
even days later, I got a call
from the Oakland Police.
They had Aurora at the station.
She claimed she’d been beaten up badly by the pimp and his whore, but she didn’t show any signs of it and had managed to escape.
She’d
been put
in
temporary custody
until
Da
niel
could fly up to
get
her.
At the moment, she was safe.

I can’t describe my feeling as I listened to the officer.
It was a mixture
of sickness, rage, and anger, a
noxious potion
that has
made
better women
kill.
“Goddamnit, that stupid bitch!”
Anger.
“If I ever find that guy, I’ll blow his fucking balls off!”
Rage.
Then, after
I cooled off
, it hit me, even in my
irradiated
state:
Pity
.
Pity for
this
poor
child,
now fifteen, who’d had such
a tragic
life, and who’d just made it ten times worse
because, like Nigel, she had no
impulse control.

There followed
a few more episodes of this longest-running
soap
:
Aurora running away from a foster home
(I had screamed at Daniel for an hour not to put her there, that she would flee – by the time the words left my mouth, she was gone).
Aurora running from her next
group h
ome
, situated in the armpit of Hollywood
.
How could the DCFS be so fucking clueless?
!
Didn’t they realize that if she were not in total lockdown, there would be an Oakland Part 2? 
Or worse?

As I had
predicte
d, the
love affair with Nigel extinguished with the rapidity it had ignited.
  More the fool he.

And w
hile we’re on the topic of fools
, o
n April 17
th
I did something
I swore I would never do.

I took Aurora back.

I used to work on Lifetime Movies when I was in
audio
post
(another of my stops on the
Magic
Movie Bus
).
I noticed they were always titled “Diary Of A
Madwoman
”
or
“Portrait Of A
Homicidal Maniac.”
Maybe they had formed a focus group and decided that’s what attracted
women
.
Who knows.

On April 17
th
, i
t was
10
at night
and I was tired.
I got a call on
my
not-smart
cellphone.
Aurora
.
She was at the corner of De Soto and Victory – could I
come
and
pick her up?
To say the least, I was surprised, and not at her running again.
We hadn’t spoken at all during my
Days o
f Cancer
.
Once, when she was talking to Nigel, she
’d
told me to go fuck myself in Hebrew (a legacy of David) and I also heard her yell that she hoped I would die.
Be
sides
this,
there
had been
no contact.

What was it that made me
s
c
hlep
to my
Saturn
and
drive into the night?
Why didn’t I do what I shoul
d have
–
call the DCFS
?
Because I was nice, Dear
Reader, and to quote Morrissey, late
of The Smiths, “I have spent my whole life in ruins because of people who are niiiiice.”
I had become
one of
those people.

I saw a tiny figure on the corner,
bending
in suggestive poses.
Not
a great start.
She looked very different:
her hair, naturally blonde, was now dyed a jet black
and she wore heavy makeup.

“Hey.”
Aurora was as casual as if
we were meeting for
dinner
.

“
You know,
I’m putting myself a
t risk
here
. I could be arrested.”

“Yeah.”
She turned those
hazel
eyes on me.
“It’s just…I don’t want to live in group homes anymore.
I want to live with you.”

Oh
sister
.
“And what about your Dad?
He thinks you want to live with
him
.”

“No, h
e
hasn’t changed
. He’s too clingy.
He
treats me like a baby.”

“Aurora,
if
this happens, and I’m not saying it will, things need to be different.
I will not tolerate being hit or cursed
anymore
.
No more ditching class.”

“
In Oakland
I realized how bad I was to you.
I’ve changed, I swear.”

The mention of Oakland made me wince.
I
drove
her back to the
apartment
– made sure she had something to eat.
Then
, following Nigel’s copious lead
,
I drafted the following document:

SANE & SENSIBLE HOUSE RULES PART II

1.
    
No violence

2.
   
No shouting or cursing

3.
   
No lying

4.
  
No stealing

5.
   
No drinking or drugs

6.
   
No impulsive decisions

7.
   
No angry outbursts/
NO VERBAL ABUSE

8.
   
You are responsible for cleaning up after yourself.
That includes the kitchen
& bathroom.

9.
   
Take Angel for a walk every day at 5 PM

10.
Boyfriends must be around your own age

11.
 
Simp
ly let me know and we will
get birth control.

12.
MUST
take medication daily

13.
No visits to the mall (or anywhere else) alone, unless you are going to meet a friend

14.
No driving by yourself

I handed the list
to
Aurora, who read it
gravely
.
“I agree to
e
very one of these,” she said, huddled on my bed (the only one we had).
This admirable resolve lasted
all of a
week
.
At the end of
2.5
months, here is Aurora’s Report Card:

1.
    
No violence
.
This time
, she didn’t hit me.
She said that after being beat up in Oakland, she didn’t have the strength.
But
unknown
to me at the time, she was cutting
,
hiding the wounds
beneath
Goth
arm wraps.
A little s
omething she’d
picked up
from
Albert Hall.

2.
   
No shouting or cursing
.
I wa
s being told to Go Fuck Myself
on an almost minutely basis.

3.
   
No lying
.
Aurora wasn’t able to sleep, and stayed
up till morning
texting and
Facebooking
.
One night, about 3 A.M., she went into the bathroom.
I hated myself for doing this – I didn’t want to be a Nigel – but I
’d
read
that parents should check
up on
their kid’s social networks.
Now
Aurora had told me she wanted to ta
ke “a vacation”
to Seattle, to visit with old
school friends
.
She
would not see Nigel, of course.

What I discovered:
she
’d
lied her ass
off
.
She was making plans to stay with some guy she’d last seen in second grade, and her intent
, per Facebook,
was to “do it every day.”
When
I called her on it,
she stormed out
of the apartment.

4.
  
No stealing
.
The Oakwoods, always thoughtful,
supplied an ATM
in the lobby
.
Aurora started coming home with studded be
lts, shoes, and other sundries
from
the Mall.
She claimed that the money was hers.
I checked my
online
balance – not quite!
She’d
been stealing
$60
at a time from me, and I wasn’t exactly rich.

“Aurora, I’m
really
disappointed.
How can I have
a thief in my house
?”
She smirked.
“It’s not the money.
It’s a violation of trust.
I took you in – I’ve taken you to the Outlet Ma
ll to get new clothes and shoes
(
since most of
hers
were stolen
)
– and this is how you rep
ay me?
Nice.
How am I
supposed to
trust you
?”
Again, she stormed out.
But
atypically
, when she returned, she
was quiet
.
“I see your point,” she said.
That was as close to an apology as I would
ever
get.

5.
   
No drinking or drugs
.
Aurora told me that when she’d AWOL’ed from Pico Pico, she’d go
ne
with some older guy
back to his
house
to get drunk
.
With us, s
he’d always been a teetotaler, a mini-
Carrie
Nation
who
accused
Nigel of alcoholism if he had a single beer.
But
as you’ve figured out by now,
Aurora did not have what Scott Fitzgerald called
“…the ability to hold two opposing ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function. . .”
With her:
it was Black or White,
I Love You or Go Fuck Yourself.