“He’s there,” she whispered, pointing under her bed.
“Who? Is someone hiding under your bed?” I asked.
She shook her head violently. “No!” she shouted and pointed to an old wooden RoiTan Cigar box peeking out from under the bed. “That cock sucking Rumpelstiltskin has already taken my girls.”
“Rumpel what?” I sat on the floor next to her. “What are you talking about?”
“Just give me the damn cigar box!” she said, still rolled into a ball. She ripped the box from my hand as soon as I held it within her arm’s reach. She placed it on the floor next to her face and opened it. Her boney fingers pulled out a syringe, a spoon and a small brown glass medicine bottle. She opened the bottle and tossed it across the room. “Shit! Shit! Fuckin Shit! It’s empty!” She smashed her fist onto the floor. “Damn it all to hell! It’s empty!”
***
She laid flat in her bed when I entered her room at the rehab hospital. “You look like hell,” I said. Her eyes were still blood shot. Her dishwater hair was plastered on the left side of her head.
“You ain’t so good looking yourself.”
“Who is Rumpelstiltskin?” I asked.
Her hand shook as she reached for a glass of water. “I hate you for bringing me here, you know.”
“That’s nothing new. I’m trying to save your damn life.”
“You’re wasting your time,” she said as she struggled to sit up.
“Who is Rumpelstiltskin?” I asked again.
She smirked and released a smile. “He’s the motherfucker who ruined my life.”
“Who is he?” I asked. “When I found you, you said that he took your girls. Your girls have already been adopted.”
“You don’t need to fuckin remind me.” She took a drink of water. “Do you remember the fairytale?”
“The one about Rumpelstiltskin?”
“Duh! Rumpelstiltskin is all this shit.” She waved her hands above her. “All the drugs, the cops, the social workers, the system, all of it is Rumpelstiltskin.”
I cocked my head to the side. “You’re losing me,” I said.
“In the fairy tale, Rumpelstiltskin gives the girl what she wants.” My niece narrowed her eyes. “But the bastard made her pay with her first born.”
“But she overheard him say his name and she got to keep her son,” I said.
“That’s the fairytale version,” she said and then crossed her legs under the sheets. “In real life, Rumpelstiltskin takes my kids away, my family away, my money away, everything, even my desire to fuck.” She shook her head in disgust. “Shit!”
I didn’t say anything. I contemplated the fairytale. “Why do you deal with Rumpelstiltskin, with the drugs? You’ve come clean before.”
“You’ll never understand. I can’t divorce Rumpelstiltskin. He is part of me.” Her shoulders slumped. “He’ll never give me my kids back.” She adjusted the pillow behind her back. “I hate to admit it. If I had a druggy mom, like me, I sure the hell wouldn’t want to go back. Shit!”
“Don’t you want to get your life back? To be able to raise your own daughters?”
“That guilt trip shit ain’t gonna work on me. When Rumpelstiltskin wraps me up and takes me to his secret place, our secret place, there is nothing that I need. Nothing, except more Rumpelstiltskin. I want that more than my…” She faltered and looked away. “When I get clean, they’ll throw me back on the street. What can I do? I ain’t got nothin. How am I supposed to raise my girls with nothin?”
I knew she didn’t want me to answer that question. I inhaled slowly and asked, “Why do you call it Rumpelstiltskin?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” She grabbed a handful of sheet between her hands and formed a makeshift ball. “They rumple my dreams, my girls, my fuckin gawdamn future and then they stuff it under my skin.” She blew hard. “In my back. In my fuckin back! where I can feel it every day, but I can’t reach.”
“That’s pretty good,” I said. “They rumpled and stuffed it under your skin.”
She glared at me. “They know.” She pointed her finger accusingly at me. “And don’t pretend that you don’t know. Rumpelstiltskin will find me as soon as he can and….” She sat up straighter in her bed. “I’ll enjoy fuckin the shit out of him until I die. Until I fuckin die!”
