Walking over to me, she bent down and slid her glasses down to the end of her nose revealing enormous green eyes, like a magical cat from a fairy-tale. She smelled amazing.
Is that you, Stephen, you little punk? asked the stranger in a hoarse laugh, Eat all your vegetables chicks love tall guys, got it?
And thats how Annie entered in my life. She was my fathers prodigal younger sister, the black sheep of the family, the skeleton in the closet of our respectable home, and the bane of Benningville. She was 16 when she left home, and hadnt returned until this moment (she was 25 now). No wonder I didnt know anything about her! Coming back from the neighbors, my mother almost fainted when she saw Annie. And she had absolutely no idea what to talk with her about until my father got home from work, and he didnt know what to talk with her about either.
But it wasnt a problem Annie talked enough for all three of them. Having poured herself practically half a glass of whisky and smoking her beautiful cigarettes, she cheerfully told them about how she lived in New York, that she was married for the second time (his name is Rodriguez, a gangster for sure, and a jealous bastard, but, boy, is he loaded!!)
In just one evening this eleven year-old heard a hundred times more swear words than I had in my entire life up to that point. Finally my mother, white as a sheet, came to her senses and quietly gasped with difficulty, Stevie, sweetheart, go to your room
Come on, really, whats the big deal Marsha? protested Annie, Its the weekend tomorrow! Let the kid hang out with us for a while, he might learn something!
Of course I listened to my mother, got up, wished everyone good-night, and went to my room. But I couldnt fall asleep for a long time. I just tossed and turned. I was afraid that my father would throw his indecent sister out of the house, and tomorrow when I woke up, that fantastic otherworldly automobile would no longer be sparkling in front of our house.
But I was wrong. At the end of the day, my father was as afraid of Annie as I was. In a different way, of course, but not any less.
I know that Annie was sent to me from heaven. In order for me to become who I was meant to be. So that I wouldnt spend the rest of my life working as a shift mechanic at the electric substation of Benningville the town of white picket fences and eight television stations.
I only called her aunt two times the first was at the table on the evening of the day she arrived.
When I called her Aunt Annie the next day, she sauntered over to me, sunk her taloned claw into my shoulder and said:
You know what Stephen Wright? If you ever call me Aunt again Im going to tear your skinny little ass off and feed it to the crows! Youre making me feel like an old granny, you got it, you little shit?
I swallowed, frightened, but nevertheless I didnt hold my tongue:
You cant be an old granny. Youre so young
Annie smiled crookedly, Well, thats already a little bit better. Youre improving before my eyes
And thats how Annie appeared in my life. She stayed for two weeks, then she came back again after a couple of months. Then again And she did it only for my sake. I knew it, I felt it. And she didnt hide it.
I told Annie everything. She had the answer to any question and advice for any situation. With a generous sprinkling of strong language, she happily, and in an unassuming way, did what neither my mother or father could, nor could my school teachers or friends she told me what this wonderful and boundless life was really about about Good and about Evil, about money and sex, about success and failure In a word about Everything!
She taught me how to drive her car a blood-red Mercedes convertible. Before I met Ann I knew, of course, that there were other cars besides just American and Japanese. However, the villains with their manly red faces and the saviors of the world who defeated them mercilessly crashed their Aston Martins and Maserattis in a different cinematic dimension, which disappeared, as expected, erased by the credits crawling across the screen, and the real world, to which I was sentenced, moved around in Fords and Toyotas, as simple, reliable and faceless as their owners.
Remember Stevie, real men only drive cars with a stick shift! Annie succinctly explained as always, because only driving a stick makes you feel like you are in control of your whole life! Automatics are for losers and back-seat drivers who are afraid to take the wheel themselves. Look here! You push on the clutch First, second, third, fourth, fifth Got it?
I didnt understand it at all. I had never even sat in a car with a stick shift. But in a week I was flying over the surrounding roads, screaming through intersections and leaving black tire marks on the asphalt.
Youre doing great! encouraged Annie. You are going to be a big success in life Im sure of it
On my thirteenth birthday my father reluctantly allowed me to go visit Annie in New York (which was good, because I wasnt taking No for an answer). By this time she had already managed to divorce the mysterious Rodriguez, and get married and divorced again.
The city just amazed me. It was so much better than my wildest dreams. It was the City of Cities, the Center of the World.
So many different cars from all over the world crawled and raced through its streets.
Its televisions had over one hundred channels, and every one showed sin with abandon, Good and Evil locked in their eternal conflict
On my birthday Annie got me a call girl. She was expensive, very young, delicate and skilful.