Falling Into Grace

It was a typical Sunday evening on the brink of an age old fall. The crisp feeling of season evolving into one another loomed in the air and I could almost taste the changing colors of the leaves.1

Doubt screamed in my face as I made the familiar turn from Saxton on to Center. This particular turn I spied Dota skipping towards me from the opposite direction. Dota. Wow, you could spot that girl from a mile away! She always stood out among the people in this city. Instead of wearing Steve Madden boots, she wore bright orange Chucks. Instead of having salon styled brown hair, she had florescent red braids. Unlike all the other “trend setters” who wore platinum tennis bracelets and enormous hoop earrings, she wore rubber bands and beaded necklaces and other crazy jewelry. She lived a sheltered life yet her mind was anything but concealed.2

She approached me singing softly singing the lyrics to her favorite song, “Unknown” by Lifehouse. She had just finished up the lines “...And if this night wont let me rest, don’t let me second-guess what I know to be real...” before she greeted me, cheerfully, as usual.3

“Howdy Lone star!” she exclaimed in the worst Texas accent that ever puked in my ears.4

“What bring you ‘round these parts stranger?” I mocked back with a pretty bad Texas accent. I couldn’t do it as badly as Dota. It takes much talent to do a Texas accent that badly.5

She opened a pocket of the neon yellow utility vest she was sporting, and pulled from it a piece of folded music.6

“ I was, uh, wondering if I could tag along with you to see your daddy,” she muttered. “ I was kind of, uh, hoping he could play this for me so I could get the sound of it before I picked up my guitar.”7

Dota, (Dotie as we called her), then handed me the sheet of music. Sure enough, it was that damned Lifehouse song she’s obsessed with. As I was reading the music, she continued to sing8

“… Put away all I know for tonight, and maybe I just might, learn to let it go…”9

“Mmkay Dotie, I guess you can come…” I slowly replied. Normally I don’t like it when Dotie tags along but today was a rare exception. I’d been “clean” for five days now and this addiction is really taking its toll. I figured that if Dotie came along her presence would keep me mentally occupied.10

Thus we were off making our way down the vast canals of pavement. I looked at her. She looked at me. When she noticed my wrists and her facial expression quickly changed from a bright eyed grin complete with dimples, to an angry and depressed scowl that gave definition to the look of disappointment in her eyes. Then, after several moments of silent staring, she spoke in between her gritted teeth.11

“This ends NOW Shane!” she threatened forcefully, “ It ends right NOW!”12

No. Dotie was wrong. It SHOULD end now but it can’t. Telling me to stop doing so would mean taking my security away from me. I thought frantically, trying to create a logical reason why invoking self-injury was a good thing. Feeling defeated, I managed to snap back, ” Damn it Dota! You don’t have to know everything!”13

I can clearly recall at that point sinking into this unknown mentality. I must have looked like I needed a spontaneous antidote or something because Dotie stopped walking, turned to me, gave me a hug and girlie squeaked, “Oh Shane! Faith makes everybody scared! It’s the unknown that keeps us alive day to day!”14

We turned down a bricked alleyway that intersected a street lined with crowded shops and boutiques. We walked in silence. Why? Because I had nothing left to defend. I lost and it was not like I could have pretended everything made sense. I’m glad I had Dotie with me, though, she pissed me off royally in an almost a strategic manner.15

The sun was in the middle of its set period creating a mix of sherbet colors holding up the sky. Dotie still seemed a little peeved about my habits but was a little more at ease after the confrontation. See, Dotie is like a volcano in that she can’t go on with her life until everything boiling up inside of her spills and if it kills everyone in its path, so be it. 16

We stopped at Ga Ga For Guitars and Dotie picked up some new strings, a zebra striped pick along with an orange fake leather strap for her acoustic. Then we picked up some printer paper at The Copy shop before crossing the street to Dunkie’s to get Fruit Coolattas. Then we made our way to my dad, Tucker’s, house.17

It seemed to take forever to get there but around seven we hit the three quarter mark at Ol’ Murphy’s Gas where Dotie’s boyfriend works. I told her not to talk long because we had to get going but it was “ The Trent Man” who was “ tall”, “poetic”, “heroic” and “ dreamius maximus”. After innocently yet intimately indulging in a game of tonsil tennis, they bid their tragic goodbyes, longing for each other until tomorrow. During that period I mentally disappeared. I let Dotie have her love. It keeps her alive and anyway it doesn’t matter now. She got that one feeling of love for the day and quickly went back to the non-boy crazy Dotie I knew and tolerated. We then continued our journey.18

At quarter of eight, just as the last ray of the sun kissed the earth goodnight, we climbed the stairs up to my dad’s third story apartment. Tuck left a note saying that he took Spooty, our kitty, to Aunt Katie’s house because Spoot was in labor and he finds labor intimidating and scary. So I unlocked the door and Dotie and I made our way to the kitchen where we attacked our hunger in Wheat-Thins and salsa and made ourselves comfortable on the kitchen chairs.19

Dotie got up and circled the room looking at all the pictures my dad had taped on the peach colored walls. Tuck didn’t believe in frames. He said they take away from the unorganized single father stereotype.20

Dotie removed a picture of me and my dad from the wall that we took during a fishing trip with my mom. The picture was dated August 14, 1990, six months after my fourth birthday. On the back of the picture it read, “Tuck and Dota, the seafaring men!” in my mom’s writing.21

“Remember that?” Dotie asked gleefully,” You named that fish and everything, and when Momma cooked it you cried. Tuck felt so bad and it was the only night they let you have desert without finishing your supper!”22

“ Yeah it was!” I chuckled, “ We were so happy. It was the first time I saw Momma happy after her younger brother, Shane, died a year earlier of cancer. Shane was my middle name sake.23

Dota looked around, and then pulled down another picture. It was of me wearing a Cartman tee shirt on my twelfth birthday blowing out candles. “ It was the first birthday I had after my parents divorced.” I reminisced, “ A year after that I began to refer to myself as ‘Shane’ instead of ‘Dota’. I was born of Valentines Day in 1986. I was named from the word ‘dote’ which means ‘to love’. I didn’t feel loved after the divorce.”24

“Exactly!” exclaimed Dotie.25

I looked into the mirror on the kitchen wall and I saw Dotie in my reflection. I had to figure this thing out. For the first time in three years I felt as though I could win the battle against myself and for the first time ever, I was ready to fight it. All I had left to do was to fit these scattered pieces of myself back into my head. Now instead of seeing Dota and Shane in the mirror, I saw Dota Shane Skylar by herself. It scared me. Then, as quickly as it came, my confidence was gone.26

“ I’m not ready!” I began crying vulnerably.27

Dotie showed herself for a couple of seconds, “Yes you are!” she replied. 28

Then she was gone for good and I was left floating in my own cloud of darkness. I started shaking violently back and forth in my chair as though I was having a seizure. I was kicking and screaming and scratching my wrists until the bled. I then bolted to the bathroom to look for a blade. Rummaging frantically through the closet I saw my life pass before my eyes. Then, I blacked out.29

I woke up the next morning in my bed with Tuck leaning over me rubbing my back like he did when I was younger.30

“Morning Sweetie.” He said gently. 31

“What happened?” I asked, dead tired.32

“ I don’t know,” he replied uneasily, “ When I got home I found you lying on the bathroom floor. So I picked you up and put you back in your bed.”33

“Thanks, Dad.”34

“No Problem, Kiddo.”35

Thinking randomly about why Tuck was out in the first place I asked, “ Did Spoot have her kittens?”36

“Yeah.”37

” We keeping them?”38

”Of course!” he exclaimed excitedly.39

Then he kissed me on the cheek, got up, and said in a super hero, prestigious tone of voice,40

“I'm off to the stove! Fair thee well my dear child!”41

And he was off.42

I Sat up in my bed and looked around my room at all the bright colors and all the things I once had interest in like pipe cleaners and beads. Something came over me and I felt as though I should do something creative like make Spoot a new collar or something. 43

I looked to the corner of my room to where my black and pink coat rack was. Draped over it were a couple of jackets, some hats and my neon yellow utility vest. I walked over to the vest, reached in the pocket and took out the sheet music to “Unknown” by Lifehouse. Limp with sleep I grabbed my acoustic guitar with my other hand and hobbled tiredly to the kitchen.44

“Hey Dad!”45