Riding in the Backseat with my Brother is about my life growing up an Irish Traveler, Gypsy, nomad, or whatever they wanted to call us. Roving through the 50âs and 60âs, steered by two Gemini parentsâone a Scots Irish carpenter, the other a wannabe Jewish princessâwe moved in search of a place to settle and call home. My little sister sat between my parents in the front seat while my brother and I, perched high on a pile of blanket-covered boxes, watched the world go by in the backseat of a black Hudson.
As we bounced across the country, sucking up the smells, sounds, and sights of new places, the events along the way formed us, making us who we wereâwho we are today.
Dadâs itchy feet often acted up after the first few months of settling in a town, even though he always said, âThis is where we will stay, maybe settle down,â while we were moving in. His feet acted up even worse with the onset of cold weatherâsouthern points looked pretty good to him then, and sometimes the only way to cure an itchy foot was to scratch it.
Riding in the Backseat with my Brother is about my life growing up an Irish Traveler, Gypsy, nomad, or whatever they wanted to call us. Roving through the 50âs and 60âs, steered by two Gemini parentsâone a Scots Irish carpenter, the other a wannabe Jewish princessâwe moved in search of a place to settle and call home. My little sister sat between my parents in the front seat while my brother and I, perched high on a pile of blanket-covered boxes, watched the world go by in the backseat of a black Hudson.
As we bounced across the country, sucking up the smells, sounds, and sights of new places, the events along the way formed us, making us who we wereâwho we are today.
Dadâs itchy feet often acted up after the first few months of settling in a town, even though he always said, âThis is where we will stay, maybe settle down,â while we were moving in. His feet acted up even worse with the onset of cold weatherâsouthern points looked pretty good to him then, and sometimes the only way to cure an itchy foot was to scratch it.
Riding in the Backseat with my Brother
By
Judi Blaze
Â
Â
Â
 I thought we were normal. I thought all the students had been the ânew kidâ at some point. But I learned differently. My Gypsy Soul never left.
Â
Â
Â
A faded red motel sits on the edge of a highway in a seedy area of Los Angeles. The front of the motel is wind-battered and the grounds are cluttered with cigarette butts, wrappers, and empty cans. Warm, smog-filled air and blazing sunlight stream through an open window where a curtain has fallen down. Inside, the motel is a combination living room and kitchen stacked high with cardboard boxes â some used to make walls for the makeshift bedroom in the corner.
Two toddlers, one with a drooping diaper, race around the room while a twig of a woman sits in a chair staring at nothing. Loud screams and squeals coming from the kitchenette donât stir the woman. The oldest child, Gary, climbs onto the counter and tries to reach a box of crackers, knocking down plastic cups that bounce and flip across the counter then land on the floor near Judy, the younger child. Gary grabs the box of crackers and throws them down to his little sister.
âHere, catch.â
She jumps back and the crackers land on the floor. The mother, a skinny woman with paper-like skin and a pointy nose, rocks back and forth. Her sweater is wrapped tight around her. When there is a knock on the door, Judy jumps and screams while Gary crawls down from the counter and runs to the door. More knocking. Gary tries to reach the doorknob.
           âMama! Mama!â He turns to his mother and, when she doesnât move, he stands on tiptoes, barely able to reach the handle. Finally, the door opens and their Aunt Helen walks in. Her hair is combed back with a barrette holding it in place, and her neat white blouse is tucked in. Helen looks at the children and smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
           âHi, Gary. Hi Judy. Whatâs going on here, kids? Howâs your mama and the baby?â She bends to kiss them, her eyes darting around the cluttered and stinking room. She shuts the door with her foot. âWhereâs your baby brother?â Her smile changes to a look of concern when she sees their mother rocking back and forth in the chair. She sets her purse on the floor and walks over to Alice, whose eyes are focused in the distance.
Helen had seen Alice like this before. Judy walks over to her mother and stands close to Helen. âAlice? I just came over to see how youâre doing with the new baby? Al thought I should check on you. Where is the . . .â She puts a hand on Aliceâs shoulder. Piercing baby cries rise from the corner, where sheets are piled high on a mattress on the floor. Helen walks past the unresponsive Alice toward the mattress and sees the sheets move.
âWhat the . . . ?â
She begins unwrapping the sheets and finally sees the wet, feces-covered baby. âOh my god! Kids! Kids, bring me a towel, hurry! Hurry!â
The kids race toward the bathroom and return with a towel. Helen puts the towel around the baby and races to the bathroom, where she runs water and cleans the baby with the wet towel. The kids peek through the bathroom door and watch while Helen wraps a dry towel around the little body. Then she carries the baby past the kitchenette and stops in front of Alice, who is still staring.
âAlice? Why was the baby in there wrapped up? Alice?â
Gary walks close to Helen and tugs on her sleeve to get her attention. âBaby cries,â he says.
Helen squeezes the baby close to her as tears well up in her eyes. The baby is now silent, sucking on his hand. Gary tugs on her sleeve again.
âJudy peed on the floor. In the catâs food.â His furrowed eyebrows are like caterpillars against his dark skin. Helen closes her eyes, unaware of what Gary said. When she doesnât respond, he yells, âShe peed, sheâs in trouble.â Helen opens her eyes and touches the top of Garyâs head, then goes to the closet and grabs some diapers, bottles, and baby clothes, and throws them in a garbage bag.
âKids, I have to go now, but your daddy will be home soon. You tell him to come and see me.â She kisses them and walks out with her purse, a bag in one hand and the towel-wrapped baby in the other.
The kids hear their fatherâs truck pull up outside and run to the door, scattering the crushed crackers across the room. Al opens the door and walks in. The kids jump on his legs, laughing. He is dark-skinned, with black wavy hair framing a round, Irish face, and a spherical body to match. Cigarettes are rolled up in his shirt sleeve. Like his sister Helen, his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. He tosses his lunch pail and thermos down on the counter and lunges for Gary, then Judy, hugging them.
âHey, kids. Give your old fat daddy a kiss.â
The kids giggle and kiss his cheek while he looks around the room, his eyes landing on his wife sitting and staring. After he gives each of the kids a twirl, he walks over to Alice and touches her shoulder.
âAlice. Alice?â he says, bending to kiss the top of her head. âHey, honey, whatâs happening?â He shakes her shoulder and, when she doesnât respond, he goes to the bedroom area, looks at the empty mattress and pile of sheets, and walks back to her. His words come out louder than he had planned.
âWhereâs the baby, Alice?â When she doesnât answer he yells, âWhereâs the goddamned baby, Alice?â His face is red and his eyes bulge; veins stick out of his neck. Sweat begins to dot his forehead. The children stick close to Al. Gary bends to pick up the cat.
Finally, Alice blinks, turns her head, and looks up at him.
âBabyâs gone,â she says.
Judy starts crying loudly and Gary pushes her out of the way. His eyes open wide and he takes in a deep breath before speaking. âJudy peed again on the floor.â He glares at Judy.
Al shakes his head and blows air from his mouth, walking away before he turns back to Alice. He bends down and touches her hand, speaking gently. âWhat do you mean the babyâs gone? Whereâs our new baby? Whereâs little Dougie, Alice?â
Gary goes up to his dad and taps his shoulder. âAuntie Helen took him. She wiped the poop off him, then took him. Can we have some more crackers?â
Al puts the kids in the backseat of the old Hudson and races to his sisterâs house â oblivious to Judy rolling down the window and sticking her face out into the wind. The tires squeal briefly as he brakes in front of Helenâs house; the car is still moving slowly when he flings the door open. When it stops, he jumps out and the kids stare silently. âStay there,â he yells as he races to the door and begins pounding on it.
Embedded in a mass of avocado trees and lilacs, Helenâs house faces a busy road cloaked in the unnatural quiet following rush hour. Alâs thumping resonates down the street as early evening light plays with the lavender flowers.
A voice comes from behind the door. âStop that pounding, Al, and come in. Figured youâd be here soon enough. You ever gonna get a phone?â Helen opens the door and he walks in. The house is modest, with furniture showing signs of wear. Family photos line two walls and cooking smells drift from the kitchen.
Al pushes past her and turns. âWhyâd you take the baby, Sis?â Pain twists his face and his eyes sag with sorrow, making him look older than his thirty-five years.
Helen folds her arms. âShe canât take care of him, Al. I went over there, the place was a mess. Piss and shit everywhere and the baby wrapped in sheets barely able to breathe.â Her voice is stern and firm.
Al sits down on the couch, bends his head, and folds his hands.
âLet me get you some coffee. Iâll be right back.â Helen goes to the kitchen and brings him back a cup of coffee. Al continues to stare down into his hands while the news blares from the TV. Helen hands the cup of coffee to Al; he takes a sip, then looks up at Helen.
âI donât know what to do. Alice has been like this for a long time. You know that. Hell, I have to work, I canât . . .â
Helen sits beside him on the couch. âOf course you canât. Without you working those kids would starve. Itâs not your fault, Al.â
Al takes another sip. âI donât know . . . It feels like it is . . .â Tears well up in his eyes. He hurriedly wipes them away, trying to regain his composure when he sees Helen staring at him.
âItâs not your fault, Al. Donât waste your time beating yourself up.â After a slight pause, she says, âWe have more important things to talk about.â She points through her open living room window toward the car where the kids are now hanging out the window bare-assed. âLook at them. Those kids need better than that. You canât afford to take care of all of them, Al. At least let me try it with Dougie. Let me give him the chance to grow up in one place, give him some security.â
This time a tear escapes and rolls down his cheek. He breathes in deeply, his face scrunching up.
Helen smiles and tries to lighten the mood. âHell, the way you move around you would be lucky to fit all the kids in the car, let alone the cats.â She laughs, but Al remains silent. After a moment of awkward silence, he seems to come to, and sits up straight. His face lightens as a thought visibly arises in his mind.
âI could quit moving, settle down. I know Iâve said that before, but . . .â
Helen touches his hand and pats it. âYou mean well, Al. We all know you do, but settling down is not ever going to happen. Youâre as much an Irish Traveler as any of âem. Hell, itâs not for all travelers,â she said, walking towards the window. âI just happened to be able to settle down. Let me keep Dougie. I can raise him as my own. Right here. Iâm not a traveler. You know I wonât move.â Helen turns and heads toward the kitchen, then turns. âYou think about it. Iâm going to get some cookies for you to take to the kids. Iâve got a meat pie coming out of the oven, too.â
Al takes a few deep breaths, fills his cheeks with air, then blows out. He sees the photos of his whole family before him, scattered on the walls and along the shelves, and walks over to them. All Irish Travelers, except for Helen and a handful of others.
Itâs not like I canât trust her, he thinks. I can always count on her being here.
Helen returns carrying a large cardboard box. She sets the box on the floor and walks over to Al, hugging him. Tears have streaked his dark face, and when she sees them, she begins to cry as well. Unable to talk, Helen points to the bedroom and walks toward it as Al follows. The baby is asleep on Helenâs bed. On a table nearby are boxes of diapers, pajamas, and blankets. Al bends down and kisses Dougieâs head, then touches his cheek with his thumb.
âTake care of my baby.â He turns and leaves the room.
Helen hands him the box before he leaves the house. âThereâs a fruit pie in there too. Donât worry, Al. I will take care of him. You donât have to worry about that.â
Â
Two weeks later, an orange U-Haul trailer sits in front of the red motel attached to Alâs dented black Hudson. Al and Alice are putting the last of the boxes inside it. Gary and Judy jump up and down in the backseat on blankets and pillows that cover a layer of boxes, laughing. Gary screams through the window, âJudyâs diaper fell off!â and then breaks down into a fit of laughter.
Al closes the back of the trailer while Alice grabs her purse and sweater, then they get into the car. Al slides into the driverâs seat and adjusts the mirror while the kids continue jumping up and down. âHey! You kids settle down! If I have to stop this car, you know what will happen.â Gary laughs and Judy joins in.
âYou always say that. Youâll dump us off like you did the cat. You wouldnât ever do that to us! Never!â Gary screams with laughter. Alice winces almost imperceptibly, and then makes a show of adjusting herself, pushing her purse under the seat and looking for her sweater. She turns to the kids with a scowl that quickly becomes a smile.
âCome on, kids. You listen to your dad and settle down. Youâre getting loud.â
They quit laughing and look out the window as the houses of the neighborhood glide by. Gary spots his friendâs house and shows Judy.
âLook! Hey, thereâs Martinâs house. I like him. Canât we stay?â
           âNope. Got a better place to go,â Al says as he lights a cigarette.
Gary looks sad, then perks up as if remembering something. He jumps up and bends over the front seat, his upper body leaning toward his dad. âHey! Hey, Dad! What about the baby?â
âWhatâs that?â
âYou know! The baby! What about him? Is he coming with us?â
Al looks over at Alice. She looks straight ahead, her face expressionless. Al looks back at the road and then again at his wife, trying to get her attention. âOh yeah. The baby. Heâs your little cousin, and when we come back, weâll go visit him.â Al finally makes eye contact with Alice and nudges her with his hand. âWonât we, honey? Come and see him? As often as we want.â She turns and looks at him, gives him a wan smile, then stares out the window. âYouâll always be around him, kids. No matter where we go.â
Al sees the grim look on Aliceâs face and gives her shoulder a playful nudge. He smiles and says, âCome on, smile. Itâs only gonna get better, right kids?â He laughs while the kids scream with excitement. Al looks in the rearview mirror and sees the happy look on his childrenâs faces. âHell, weâre going to Montana!â
The kids yell, eyes bulging, âYay! Whereâs Montana?â Gary asks.
âIt doesnât matter,â Al says. âWeâre going to the Big Sky Country!â
Â
Â
Â
Â
Â
Â
Â
Seven Years Later
Chapter 1
Â
As I lay in my bed, my sister on the floor nearby, I can hear the insistent scratching from inside the trailer walls â probably a rat looking for warmer territory. Goosebumps formed on my ten-year-old spaghetti arms and my breath came out in clouds, dim in the early morning light. The only warm spotÂ
In her book, Judi Blaze gives the reader a peek into the lives of Irish travelers, who find comfort in the unconventional ways of living their lives - on the road. For someone brought up in the conventional ways of living, this book was an eye-opener for me. Initially, because of my set ways, I struggled to relate to the story. Why can't they settle down? How can the parents be so irresponsible by not giving their children a stable life? But a few chapters in, I had a shift in perspective.
Perhaps a story of my life brings out the same emotions for someone else. "How can she stay in the same place her whole life? How will she ever get to experience the real world? How does one form real bonds without being in situations that test your faith in your relationships?"
Once I got over my initial apprehensions, I saw the McAlpin family as someone familiar. In many ways, the sibling bond and the presence of a mental illness resembled different facets of my own family. I recently read Shuggie Bain, which was a depressing and hard-to-finish read for me. Riding in the Backseat touches upon a similar theme of parental neglect, but this book is so much more than just that. It is about a family fighting to stay true to their roots and live a life of balance and respect. It urges the reader to follow their true purpose in life without giving much care about society.Â
A heartwarming story I would recommend for all to read.