Angst by Victoria Sawyer Read Free Book Online Page B

several weeks close to losing it. It makes me feel like
drinking constantly or doing something that takes this fucking shit out of my
mind. Sometimes I really get freakin angry about this. I hate it so much.

March 2, 1995, Third Grade
I’ve launched head first into crazy
    The steamy Florida air is distinctly cool inside the
colorfully decorated Chinese restaurant and I’m crammed in on one side of the
crowded table, surrounded by my parents, brother, cousins, aunts, and uncles. The
buzz around the table is of the impending space shuttle lift off just 35 miles
from where we are now eating. My Aunt Karen wishes we could go see it, even
from a distance and my Uncle Henry thinks we should drive there and see if we
can find a good spot. My parents want to go too, telling stories about seeing
the lift off on TV and how they had always wished they could see it in person.
    I’m wishing we could just go back to the hotel room because
my eyes are burning, I’m tired, entirely too full of Chinese food and soda and
the sunburn that I didn’t realize I had on my shoulders is beginning to ache. My
cousins on the other hand, are talking about what we’ll do tomorrow when we
visit the Kennedy Space Center. As we’re finishing our meals, an older man with
a fishing hat and Bermuda shorts walks up to the table.
    “Heard ya’ll talking about the space lift off and wondered
if you might like to have free tickets to get in across the lagoon from the
launch site. Real first class seats to the grand show,” he says with a
flourish. The table falls into silence and my aunts and uncles look amazed. I’m
thinking, now we’re gonna have to go somewhere else tonight, although seeing
the shuttle lift off could be pretty interesting.
    “Wow,” says my Uncle David, finally speaking up for the
group, “We’d love that. How many could get in?”
    “Well these tickets can get 4 cars on site, so as many
people as you can fit,” the man says, pulling four tickets from his wallet. Everyone
looks stunned, their eyes wide in amazement at our good fortune. “I’ve seen the
shuttle lift off so many times, it’s nothing to me, but when I heard you folks
talking about it and knew I had these tickets sitting in my pocket, I had to
get up and be charitable,” the man continues holding the tickets toward my
Uncle David. My uncle stands up and shakes the man’s hand, thanking him
profusely, and the tickets are passed.
    After the man leaves, telling my uncle that his son works
for NASA, the family ruckus reaches new levels. Everyone is excited, the long
table filled with boisterous laughter and excited ideas about what it will be
like to be so close to a shuttle lift off. Everyone is talking about the
astronauts and what it might look like against the night sky and whether it
might be loud or blinding and who at home will be jealous that we got to see it
up close.
    Finally, after the check has been paid, we leave the
restaurant for the 45 minute drive. We can only take four cars, so several of
my cousins and I pack into the back of my aunt and uncle’s capped pick-up truck
while my parents and other relatives take other cars.
    After we’ve been driving for a while, my cousins chit
chatting, laughing and playing card games together on the floor of the pickup,
I suddenly realize that I have to go to the bathroom, and soon. I’m a shy and
quiet kid while my cousins are a loud, wild crowd, so I start to fidget. I
don’t like calling attention to myself, especially once I realize that the
entire cavalcade of cars filled with my family members will have to pull over
on the side of the highway so that I can pee.
    After trying to ignore it for a while, I know that I really
have to go, so I have no choice but to become the center of attention. Eventually
I get up the nerve to say something to my Uncle Henry and we pull over.  I get
out of the truck, do my thing behind some bushes on the side of the road, get
back in and the moment I sit down something