A Conscious Mind
Posted: Sun Dec 11, 2011 4:06 am
There was an email waiting for me this morning from Mom.
I woke up at five in the morning to go jogging with Tori and Juan and there was already an email from mom waiting for me this morning. I didn’t look. I tried to pretend it wasn’t there and just went jogging instead. Listen to my footsteps. Listen to my heartbeat. Take deeper breaths, longer breaths. Run faster. Try and keep up even though you’ve got the shortest legs by far. Double-time, twice as fast, move your arms back and forth steady. Guess how many steps it's going to take to pass from here to the mailbox. From there to the tree.
The email’s still there when I got back.
It was there after my shower; after I got dressed and made my way into the cafeteria for breakfast. When I got back from eating there were two. Read a comic book. Check out some new videos on funny or die. Start to figure out where I'm going to put Serenity, Galactica and Enterprise D around the room. Now there’s three emails. It’s 10 o’ clock and there’s nothing else to pretend to need to do. I open them.
Mom. She worries about how I’m doing in two of them. She says how much she loves me and misses me in all three. There’s a link to an article on meta-humans in one of them. It doesn’t really have anything to do with me but it mentions meta-humans and she’s copy and pasted some bits of the article because it involved a meta human teen girl who raised three thousand dollars for charity. I think she’s telling me that I should raise three thousand dollars? I don’t know.
She wonders about how many friends I’ve made. Whether I’m eating or not. What I’m eating? What my roommate is like? What Church will I go to tomorrow? Do I need her to help me find one? Here’s a link. Here’s a link. Here’s a link for another and she called the youth pastor and he seems really nice so he’ll be looking for me and they have a good volunteer program. I guess my Sunday plans are made. Here’s a link for a community center that’s looking for volunteers and she’s called one of the people there to let them know I was new in town and looking to sign up. Here’s a link for a gym that caters for people like you. Here’s a link to a Girl’s Scout’s troupe in the area and a phone number. Here’s a link to your local Habitat for Humanity office.
I can hear him telling me that I need to just do my own thing. Not sign up for everything and just see. That I should be my own person. I can see the words and watch them get choked out by all of Mom's words. She loves me. She does. She just wants to make sure I do the best I can. That I am the best that I can be. That's what she always says; give everything 110% and it'll give 200% back. Math wasn't really mom's strong suit.
She asks about my weight, what I’m doing for exercises and offers to send me a few work out tapes so I don’t put on a Freshman Fifteen without her making me dinner and lunch. She knows what’s for lunch tomorrow at the cafeteria; I don’t, but, she took one of the menus for the month and signed up for some things so she could send coupon to fun things I could do in Paragon.
She ends each email the same. Jesus and I love you, Pinky. I’m so proud to have a beautiful, devoted, special daughter like you and I tell everyone every day.
But... I don't want to be her Pinky. Not like back home. I spent yesterday wandering around campus and took a nap in the afternoon and hung out with friends. I want to tell her that I love her but I don't want this right now. I want to try something new on my own. I'm growing up and I don't need her help. But... she's all the way over there, I'm all the way over here. It makes it harder. Jackson's leaving this year and Jenny's looking at colleges. I'm still her baby. No. That's the problem, I'm not.
I want to tell her no. I open up an email to write it but I end up looking around on wikipedia for some movie I've never heard of because I can't think of what to say. Jackson would know; he always was off doing his own thing, he knew how to get out of the mom-trap. She reads Jackson’s emails. She'd be crushed. Losing her baby - all grown up and doesn't need her momma anymore. I can't email Jackson. Jenny and her read emails together. Someone else back home? Sarah-Jean? Mom’s best friends with her mom. Leslie’s mom and my mom play bridge every Tuesday like clockwork. Hannah’s been distant since her grandpa died two months ago. I can’t put anything like this on her. That would be selfish. This is nothing in comparison to what's happening to her. Mom and dad didn’t raise me to be selfish.
I dig deeper. I even find something.
I remember him telling me that I need to just do my own thing and be my own person. That’s what I should do - who I need to see. Put my jacket on and start to head out to find him and ask for help. It’s 11 o’ clock now and if I run I can make it to the store and maybe catch him and lunch and tell him everything and he can tell me what to do. Forget rumors. Put on my jacket and I can probably catch him before lunch break.
My phone rings when I'm at the door. A strange number. I shouldn't answer it. Just head out and ignore it. It rings again. But what if its mom - would she get a number just so she wouldn't have to call long distance? It's ridiculous. I don't rule it out. I check the number again. I think it's local? One of my new friends? Maybe him. Maybe her.
“Jordan Cooper?”
“Hey, this is Richard Pike down at Goodman Community Center… did I catch you at a bad time?”
He sounds young. Twenties or thirties maybe. Something about his voice makes me think about Aladdin. There's office sounds in the background. A copier and some shuffling like he's trying to do three things at once.
“Naw, I ain’t doin’ anything…”
“Your mom called and said you were looking for some volunteer work around the city. Are you interested? We don’t really have enough around the holidays. Honestly, it was a life saver.”
Just like that and I’m roped in. You can’t turn down a person in need and it’s just not the Cooper way. Coopers grit their teeth and put their nose to the grindstone. Coopers think of others before they think of themselves. I have my bomber jacket on; I can hear Grandpa telling me Coopers this and Coopers that and it drowns out the other voice that told me 'Don’t put a lot on your plate at first' no matter how right it was. But there’s no way out now. Still... Just a day at first. Then you can back out and say thanks and everyone’s happy.
I agree to meet up with them. I say I'll be by later, maybe with some friends. Rope some people up and turn on the big eyes and the big smile like I’m trying to do my precious moment’s face to see if they’ll want to come along. It’d be okay. Just a day. No commitments. Take it slow.
I woke up at five in the morning to go jogging with Tori and Juan and there was already an email from mom waiting for me this morning. I didn’t look. I tried to pretend it wasn’t there and just went jogging instead. Listen to my footsteps. Listen to my heartbeat. Take deeper breaths, longer breaths. Run faster. Try and keep up even though you’ve got the shortest legs by far. Double-time, twice as fast, move your arms back and forth steady. Guess how many steps it's going to take to pass from here to the mailbox. From there to the tree.
The email’s still there when I got back.
It was there after my shower; after I got dressed and made my way into the cafeteria for breakfast. When I got back from eating there were two. Read a comic book. Check out some new videos on funny or die. Start to figure out where I'm going to put Serenity, Galactica and Enterprise D around the room. Now there’s three emails. It’s 10 o’ clock and there’s nothing else to pretend to need to do. I open them.
Mom. She worries about how I’m doing in two of them. She says how much she loves me and misses me in all three. There’s a link to an article on meta-humans in one of them. It doesn’t really have anything to do with me but it mentions meta-humans and she’s copy and pasted some bits of the article because it involved a meta human teen girl who raised three thousand dollars for charity. I think she’s telling me that I should raise three thousand dollars? I don’t know.
She wonders about how many friends I’ve made. Whether I’m eating or not. What I’m eating? What my roommate is like? What Church will I go to tomorrow? Do I need her to help me find one? Here’s a link. Here’s a link. Here’s a link for another and she called the youth pastor and he seems really nice so he’ll be looking for me and they have a good volunteer program. I guess my Sunday plans are made. Here’s a link for a community center that’s looking for volunteers and she’s called one of the people there to let them know I was new in town and looking to sign up. Here’s a link for a gym that caters for people like you. Here’s a link to a Girl’s Scout’s troupe in the area and a phone number. Here’s a link to your local Habitat for Humanity office.
I can hear him telling me that I need to just do my own thing. Not sign up for everything and just see. That I should be my own person. I can see the words and watch them get choked out by all of Mom's words. She loves me. She does. She just wants to make sure I do the best I can. That I am the best that I can be. That's what she always says; give everything 110% and it'll give 200% back. Math wasn't really mom's strong suit.
She asks about my weight, what I’m doing for exercises and offers to send me a few work out tapes so I don’t put on a Freshman Fifteen without her making me dinner and lunch. She knows what’s for lunch tomorrow at the cafeteria; I don’t, but, she took one of the menus for the month and signed up for some things so she could send coupon to fun things I could do in Paragon.
She ends each email the same. Jesus and I love you, Pinky. I’m so proud to have a beautiful, devoted, special daughter like you and I tell everyone every day.
But... I don't want to be her Pinky. Not like back home. I spent yesterday wandering around campus and took a nap in the afternoon and hung out with friends. I want to tell her that I love her but I don't want this right now. I want to try something new on my own. I'm growing up and I don't need her help. But... she's all the way over there, I'm all the way over here. It makes it harder. Jackson's leaving this year and Jenny's looking at colleges. I'm still her baby. No. That's the problem, I'm not.
I want to tell her no. I open up an email to write it but I end up looking around on wikipedia for some movie I've never heard of because I can't think of what to say. Jackson would know; he always was off doing his own thing, he knew how to get out of the mom-trap. She reads Jackson’s emails. She'd be crushed. Losing her baby - all grown up and doesn't need her momma anymore. I can't email Jackson. Jenny and her read emails together. Someone else back home? Sarah-Jean? Mom’s best friends with her mom. Leslie’s mom and my mom play bridge every Tuesday like clockwork. Hannah’s been distant since her grandpa died two months ago. I can’t put anything like this on her. That would be selfish. This is nothing in comparison to what's happening to her. Mom and dad didn’t raise me to be selfish.
I dig deeper. I even find something.
I remember him telling me that I need to just do my own thing and be my own person. That’s what I should do - who I need to see. Put my jacket on and start to head out to find him and ask for help. It’s 11 o’ clock now and if I run I can make it to the store and maybe catch him and lunch and tell him everything and he can tell me what to do. Forget rumors. Put on my jacket and I can probably catch him before lunch break.
My phone rings when I'm at the door. A strange number. I shouldn't answer it. Just head out and ignore it. It rings again. But what if its mom - would she get a number just so she wouldn't have to call long distance? It's ridiculous. I don't rule it out. I check the number again. I think it's local? One of my new friends? Maybe him. Maybe her.
“Jordan Cooper?”
“Hey, this is Richard Pike down at Goodman Community Center… did I catch you at a bad time?”
He sounds young. Twenties or thirties maybe. Something about his voice makes me think about Aladdin. There's office sounds in the background. A copier and some shuffling like he's trying to do three things at once.
“Naw, I ain’t doin’ anything…”
“Your mom called and said you were looking for some volunteer work around the city. Are you interested? We don’t really have enough around the holidays. Honestly, it was a life saver.”
Just like that and I’m roped in. You can’t turn down a person in need and it’s just not the Cooper way. Coopers grit their teeth and put their nose to the grindstone. Coopers think of others before they think of themselves. I have my bomber jacket on; I can hear Grandpa telling me Coopers this and Coopers that and it drowns out the other voice that told me 'Don’t put a lot on your plate at first' no matter how right it was. But there’s no way out now. Still... Just a day at first. Then you can back out and say thanks and everyone’s happy.
I agree to meet up with them. I say I'll be by later, maybe with some friends. Rope some people up and turn on the big eyes and the big smile like I’m trying to do my precious moment’s face to see if they’ll want to come along. It’d be okay. Just a day. No commitments. Take it slow.