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Dangerous Compassions

I love Bakersfield

“I’m going to bake some oatmeal cookies in the car tomorrow,” I told Ming.

“You’re going to put raisins in them, right?” he asked.

“What????” I asked. “Did you not see the meme?”

I made this meme the other day. Not bad!

“Maybe you could put them on top. Do they need to be embedded in the cookie?” I asked.

“No,” he said.

“Maybe you could stick the raisins on using frosting as glue.” That felt like a really good idea, to me. Frosting is a nice glue, I’ve heard, pertaining to gingerbread houses.

“I could put in liquefied raisins,” I said.

“Liquefied?”

“Yeah! Like soak them in water and blend them in the blender. Then you’d get raisin nutrition and raisin sweetness, without the raisins.”

“I need them chunky,” he said.

“Hmm, ok,” I said. “I’m chunky. I’m sweet and chunky!”

We shared a smile. “You’ll never guess what I had a craving for this morning.”

“What?” he asked.

“I wanted to be in Bakersfield. In that parking lot by the library. Can you believe that?”

“Why did you want to be in that parking lot?” he asked.

“I don’t know!’ Good question!”

“We should go on the train. That parking lot is for the train station too.”

“It is?” I slightly remembered. “I used to hate Bakersfield! Now I love it! That museum, that library, when you went to that comics convention, and we stayed there when that uncle had his birthday. Why in the world do I love Bakersfield? That’s crazy! Is that in the DSM?”

“That’s ok to love Bakersfield!”

“Would it be a personality disorder?”

“No!” he said.

“A delusion! Yes, a delusion.” I touched the sunflower on his shirt. He was wearing that go solar shirt.

I was remembering this time at the Bakersfield museum, when I was wearing a new tiedye I got special on etsy, how happy I was, a picture Ming took of me and I txted it to a friend, to show her my shirt. Before Mama was dead. That central valley I used to travel all the time, from Sacramento to Mama and back.

What a naive, ignorant kid I was. I almost envy that kid, who didn’t know certain things yet. I had no idea how lucky I was.

Well, look at me now; I’m probably very lucky, in ways I know, but also ways I have no idea about. Praise Mother God for my current ignorance I’m ignorant about.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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