After loosing Sandra and her sister in the street she ran to the train station. They were not there.
She sat there for the night. Partly because it was her last effort ditch effort to meet up with her again. Part because in her quest to be famous she forgot to find a place to stay.
In the morning the ticket taker woke Bobbie "Baby, you gotta buy a ticket somewhere or go. And don't thing about sleeping here again. This was a one time thing. Got me, child?"
"Yes, Mame." Bobbie Sue said as she took her bag and strolled out of the station.
She got a room in a sleazy boarding house. That was easier than she thought. She just lied about her age, and they didn't really care anyway. She found someone who got to doctor an ID so she could get a job and a driver's licence. She felt scared and alive and free all at the same time. She felt like she was told being a teenager was suppose to feel like. She did not want to look back.
She saved a little. She meet other young people. She meet a young man. Young, he was 25. She thought daddy would shoot him if he ever knew. They moved to San Francisco. He had friends there who were all sharing a house. Young people providing themselves a family when they have none. This appealed to her. She was not alone. She was not so scared. She felt alive and safe.
No more of the old school. No more woman the salve to man. We are modern. We have jobs. We have men who tell us we are free and liberated from the chains of our mothers.
The guys still make the women do the dishes and wash the clothes and clean up after them. She wonders where the liberation was. Every time they grabbed her ass and whispered free love into her ear she remembered. Liberated from being a good girl. When they would bring it up the men would talk about doing the stronger tasks. "Separate but equal, babe. Everybody works in the commune." They still didn't seem to work much, more sitting and talking.
They introduced her to pot, hash and shrooms. Now that felt liberating. She felt free to enjoy the making love not war even when the boys didn't know how. She wondered with her mother's "no sex before marriage" rule, how she ever knew if Daddy was good in bed. She decided it was much better to check out the merchandise and throw the inadequate ones back. She did a lot of throwing ones back, than fished them back out again to see if they learned anything.
Free love plus drugs = me.
Welcome to my conception.
It was an orgy.
I have 5-8 possible fathers. My mother could only remember 4 of their first names. 2 she actually knew last names of.
Well, the night started off with the normal meal, cooked by the women. Lentils, brown rice, you know typical hippie earthy crunchy stuff. Next came the hash brownies. Some friends of friends came by with their "old ladies". And Bob's your uncle...
What, you thought I would tell you this part. If you want a sex story there are plenty out there, films, too, I am told. Especially of the orgy verity. I never asked her the details of an orgy. Mostly because I was sure she would tell me. Some things you should not hear from your mother.
When she turned up pregnant and throwing up a few months later the men in the house got together and decided she should have an abortion, for a baby would really drag everyone down.
The next day they gathers some cash together from their fathers and....
Of course she didn't! I couldn't tell you the story if she did, could I? Maybe I could, from the aborted fetus part of heaven or limbo or where ever aborted babies go. Sorry, my Southern Baptist up bring comes back at the worse time.
Well, she told them. And all the women in the commune told them too. They had their own little revolution. Women's liberation. Explaining what a woman's right to choose what happens to her body meant. It meant a whole lot more the lending them her body for mutual enjoyment.
The women were so furious that they went on strike. Oh, the men laughed. They said anything girls could do they could do better. This went on for weeks.
The men cooked.
Well, the burnt a lot of food. You see their mother's didn't teach them to cook. After a few days they decide raw foods were healthier for all of them special a pregnant woman.
The men cleaned.
They decide cleaning was bad for babies. Because there were toxins in cleaners. The women pointed out no toxins in hot water and a mop and elbow grease. There mother's didn't teach them to clean either.
The men did the washing of the clothes.
The cloths were all pink. Many a dress got shrunk to the size of a 6 year's dress. Mother's never taught them how to sort laundry, either.
The women ended their strike when they could take it no more. The woman not the men.
The men had a house meeting. They admitted the real reason for the abortion suggestion. They all could be my father. They didn't know how to deal with it. They were all taught real men take care of their responsibilities. But she was the first girl they could not convince to have an abortion. They really didn't know how to deal with this.
They all decided to wait and see. Who ever I resembled would be my father and he would take care of me and my mother. One of them had did a study in college where the results were the babies resemble the fathers. It was nature's way of getting the father to bond with the baby instead of killing it.
Not very scientific, I know. DNA tests were not around back then. Until I was born and let them all know, they would all treat her as if she carried his child inside her.
This made me the commune's baby.
Mother enjoyed herself. She was pampered as if she was a goddess. It was the first and last time this happened. She was very grateful for me during this time. I was appreciated. I too, was adored and wasn't even born yet. They would all sing to me. I could hear the music through my mother's skin. Words of love were spoken I am told.
The months passed. I grew, my mother's stomach grew.
During yet another orgy, I decided to make my appearance. The water broke. I am told nothing stops and orgy like a woman's waters braking.
This should have been a sign to her. The party should have been over.
They had all agreed to have a home birth.
My mother changed her mind halfway through. "Drugs, I want drugs!"
"The baby is almost here, it will only hurt for a moment. " One of my fathers said to her.
She responded by hurling a lava lamp at his head. One person screamed that it was expensive. Mother screamed because she burnt her hand.It did take her mind off the pain. That father screamed because his face was burnt. He still has the scares today.
With all this screaming, down the birth canal I came. More things were thrown as advice about my mother's pain being mostly in her head were said by people who would never feel the joys of birth without drugs.
A lot more screaming issued from mother and the people she got with her easily identified flying objects.
When I came out. The noise of the house stopped. The only noise to be heard was my crying.
They handed me to her, naked and bloody and cord still attached.
"Get it away! It's UGLY! God has punished me!" mother cried.