Corset

You’re going to dress up as what? Good luck. Why the hell would you want to . . .? Nevermind. . . I don’t want to know. Go as whatever you want, so long as you don’t get arrested or use any drugs. Stay out of trouble; the last thing we need right now is to pay for an attorney.

They could be anything in the entire world and they pick that. Why that? Why can’t my kids be normal. Probably got the one kids in the hood who won’t eat Kix cereal, right? Most kids be going as a dog, cat, a superhero, nop, mine picks some crazy old shit from a billion years ago that ain’t no one going to recognize and I did my sales pitch telling her she’d be happier if, but she ain’t having none of that. Fine, she be over eighteen, who am I to tell her what to wear for holidays, as long as it ain’t her birthday suit, it ain’t illegal, do your thing, girl.

But what would her mom say if she saw Rebabecca going around in that crazy shit? I don’t know; I ain’t no medium. And I tried telling her she’d be too old to be dressing up as a … what she say this thing was, again? A corset. Ain’t nobody heard of no corset before. Girl done lost her mind, but went to Michael’s and got all the shit she need to make it. Long as no one else care and she be having fun. Ain’t nobody heard one be wearing those things no more. Wore them during the renaissance or the Stone Ages. Long as she be happy. Ain’t nobody gonna know what she be and there be some costume contest where y’all gotta pay to enter and bet you anything someone dressed as the popular superhero, cartoon, etc. but I did ask her why. Why you be dressing as that? Be taking a lot of work for one day and then it be sitting in your closet forever.

She be real smart with some things. Not book smart but smart smart. Like how she be saying people be spending thousands of dollars on bullshit weddings and half then idiots wind up divorced or miserable, whereas this here corset be making her happy.

She best be wearing her bra and panties under there That’s all I be saying.

*

It be Halloween and she be out there trick o treatin like a ten year old. Don’t care. Everyone gone be asking her W T F she is, but that’s her problem, ain’t mine. Gotta remind meself she be grown up. It be paradox like. She want be treated like she be mature but she want be actin like a child. Which is it? I asked her and she said everything in life ain’t black and white like that. People act like kids at parties and call it having fun. They get drunk off their ass and call it fun too. She ain’t doing that. But, who she be trick or treating with? Her friends all be packing up for college and stuff. This ain’t the best neighborhood but she do gots her phone if shit happens.

Thing is though, I used to go with her to make sure she be safe, but she too old for that now. She be needing a boyfriend and she be having boyfriend in the past, but not lately. Now, she ain’t no lesbian or nothing. I be knowing if she be a lesbian. How I know? Paternal instincts. Sides, she ain’t bringing no girls or boys here. I be overreacting like her mama used to do. So why a corset? It coming back into style like LPs?

Thing is I be overreacting. She a grown woman and I be trying to give her a curfew. She gave me the “really?”look. I understand. I wouldn’t want that if I be 18. But I be a man who could defend himself. I had a gun on me and all she got are milk duds. They ain’t gonna do her . . . Calm down. How happy you think she be if I come looking for a corset in my car. She be pissed off as fuck and who could blame her.

But she be more pissed if something happened. This be like fish or cut bait. Now, she got in some trouble when she be young but she went in 12 steps programs and they helped, but people relapse. I best be going back to Al Anon.

Then, it be 10:08 pm and I hear the insert. It’s in the hole and as long as it be her and she be happy, I be happy and the key turns and it be her in the weird corset and the corset be fine, she be happy, and got a big bag of candy. I can breathe now. She asked about trick or treaters here and there were, but fewer than last year. She went up to her room, changed into her pajamas, thanked me for supporting her in being a corset, hugged me, said she loves me, and went up to wash up, like any other night. When she went up, I checked to make sure the front door was locked and it was, I checked the garage door was shut and it was, and I went to the kitchen , opened a Budweiser, poured it in a flask, and sipped it.

After an hour, I went to my bedroom and heard my daughter snoring. I entered master bedroom and looked at the indentation where my life, Clarissa, used to be and I locked the door. Yea, I know my daughter’s sleeping and doesn’t care if men cry, but I was always taught to muffle my cries into the pillows. Women cry, men don’t. Just like women cook and clean and men kill the cochroaches and unclog toilets. That’s how we were brought up. There’s a men’s room and a lady’s room, men’s clothes, women’s clothes. So don’t be an idiot, daughter, be a woman.