Read Bye Bye Blondie for Free Online Page B

full of colors. The car door slammed and her father surged up, a giant, raging with fury, he’d been driving around town for an hour looking for her—turned out someone had asked for her on the phone and they’d realized she wasn’t in her room.
    He had snatched her away—literally and roughly—from the arms of Prince Charming. She just had time to say, “See you tomorrow.” Then in the car, sitting by her father who was yelling and banging the wheel with his fists, she’d begun to realize the acid was really hot stuff.
    Now she was inside a huge grinder, with long steel teeth capable of piercing her innermost emotions. Words plunged in, great shards of glass, meaningless but supercharged with hostile power. She was shut in and clinging to the seat. Her father was attacking her with a frightening passion, all his frustration directed at her, like a flamethrower. Normally she hadways, tricks, and mannerisms to deal with it but just then, her head bursting with LSD, she was visualizing his words as blows to her mental state, with some parts of it irredeemably smashed in.
    Two days later, instead of simply slinking off without bothering them, in the normal way, she had taken the rash step (no doubt prompted by too much acid) of telling her folks where she was going. She’d invented a party in Paris, where there’d be parents in attendance, acoustic guitars, and folksinging. A case of teenage folly, assuming everyone else was stupid.
    In the dining room, they were sitting side by side, watching TV. She’d cleared her throat and launched into her speech. Her father had said, “No!” without a second thought. Her mother hadn’t said anything, just put on her martyred expression, meaning she couldn’t bear Gloria to start making a scene.
    She’d insisted. It was impossible to describe to them the way he smelled, the way his skin felt, or to make them realize what a fantastic erotic opportunity was on offer. She was even prepared to take the train and come back the same night. But they dug their heels in and didn’t see why there was any dispute about it. “But I can’t not go, don’t you see? And why shouldn’t I anyway? If I’m going to a party, Nancy or Paris, what’s the difference? Except in one of them I’ll enjoy myself, and if I can’t go my entire life will be ruined, and I’ll feel like I’m just nothing.”
    Suddenly her father got to his feet in a rage. It’s easy to see where she gets her habit of yelling like one possessed, trying to wipe out her adversary, knock him down, send him flying. He’d begun his usual rant, saying they’d had enough, with her mother going, “You just don’t realize,” and then the first blow, to punish her for insisting, followed by another to teach her to lie down when she was getting a hiding.
    Only then, for the first time ever, facing him, she’d picked up a chair and raised it to defend herself. Bad move. It made her father go absolutely crazy. She’d had some serious beatings in the past, but this one went beyond bounds, and in fact it was the last ever. That he was a violent man was one thing, that he wanted to discipline her was another, but at no time did he actually want to kill her. Her father loved Gloria. She had always believed him when he said he loved her more than anything in the world. But, logically enough, it was like her own love affairs later in life: they adored each other but couldn’t live under the same roof. Let alone talk normally to each other.
    That evening, she had tried to defend herself seriously, refusing to curl up in a corner protecting her arms as she normally did. This time, she wanted to get past him, run away, and somehow manage to join Léo in Paris.
    A doctor had arrived, helped the two adults to pin her down, given her an injection. Cotton wool, at once her head was full of cotton wool. Then the house