Laying in bed, staring at the ceiling overhead as her hand was wrapped around a mug of hot coffee that was sitting on her chest, Natasha tried to remember the last time she'd felt this alone. Not just in the house, no, but in life. Violet was off to school for the day, and now Natasha was with her thoughts, and those thoughts weren't being very kind to her. She sat up and sipped the coffee, then heard a knock at the front door. She sighed, slid to the end of the bed and slipped her feet into her slippers, heading down the stairs to answer it.
As she walked down the stairs, she passed a myriad of photos hanging on the wall and thought to herself, "I should take these down", because a good majority of them still included Stephen, her soon to be ex husband who'd left her for her sister. She didn't need that constant visual reminder. Natasha reached the front door and opened it, surprised to see Jay standing there. She stepped aside and he walked in, pulling his cap off and running his hands through his short brown hair. "You look like shit," he said, half smiling. "Well, then at least it's conducive to how I feel," she replied, "Do you want some coffee?" "I suppose so," Jay said, following her into the kitchen where he took a seat at the table, watching her get a mug from the cabinet; he sighed and added, "You don't really look like shit, for what it's worth. I think you look pretty good, considering." "Considering?" "You know, not...being at the station anymore," Jay said, almost mumbling the last part. "It's surprising what people will let you get away with for as long as you make them money," Natasha said, bringing him his coffee and opening a small bag of donuts on the table for them, digging into it as she continued, "As soon as I was deemed no longer financially sound, I was let go, but as long as I was making them money I could say or do whatever I want and it didn't matter. I was just trying to teach the kids something." "I found what you did rather admirable, for what it's worth," Jay said. "Well thanks," Nat replied, smiling as she popped a tiny donut in her mouth, "That means a lot." "That's actually partially why I'm here," Jay said, "I have an idea, to bring you back." "I don't wanna go back to the station." "No, not to the station," Jay said, leaning back and grinning, "How would you like to go global? I think we should be on the internet." *** Violet and Courtney were sitting in the school library, working on respective homework, Courtney chewing on her pencil while Violet fervently scribbled down notes, headphones clasped tightly onto her ears. Courtney sighed and looked around, then nudged Violet in the shoulder, getting her attention. Violet tugged her headphones down and looked at Courtney. "What?" she asked. "...I don't think I'm going to do well in this class," Courtney said, "I can't focus. If I can't focus, I can't retain information. What do you do if you have trouble focusing?" "I guess I, um, just kind of pinch myself so I don't daydream. We can also go over the work together, and uh, maybe compare notes?" Violet asked, and Courtney nodded, sighing. "That might work...I'm just so worried I'm not going to be able to stick it all out, and go to college eventually. I don't even know that I want to. I mean, if high school is this scary...what would college be like? This is already dangerous for me. Are you excited to go to college?" "I don't know," Violet said, "I don't know that I can leave my mom." "That makes sense," Courtney said. Just then they heard a commotion, and looked to the sunken area of the library, where a girl about their age was seated, rocking in her chair, hitting herself in the head. Violet and Courtney glanced at one another, then back at the girl, in her striped multicolored shirt and blue pleated skirt, while the librarian and a teacher approached her, trying to talk quietly to her, presumably to get her to calm down. After she did, the girls went back to their conversation. "What if we went to the same school, and then we could also keep tabs on our parents?" Courtney asked, "That way we wouldn't have to be alone at college, and we could make sure our folks are alright?" "That would, uh, that would be...nice, yes, I guess," Violet said, before lowering her voice, glancing back over her shoulder at the girl and asking, "what do you think is wrong with her?" "No idea, but they seem to have gotten it under control," Courtney said, turning her attention back to her homework, chewing on her pencil again. Violet wanted to get back to work, but she couldn't get her attention of the girl, who she noticed was reading a large childrens storybook. After a moment, the girl looked around the library, and then dug into her backpack and pulled out a small snack of cheese and crackers and started eating, her eyes eventually catching Violet's. She raised a hand and waved cautiously, a gesture which Violet returned. Something about the girl unnerved Violet, but she wasn't sure why. *** "I can build a website, we can host video on the server and we can do or say whatever we want. Imagine it, no standards and practices, and you own all your content," Jay said as they now sat in Natasha's living room; he continued, "It wouldn't cost much, and I'd be willing to foot part of the bill." "Why would you potentially put yourself at financial ruin for my sake?" Nat asked, still eating out of the donut bag as she sat in the large recliner opposite the couch where Jay was. "Because...because you're my friend, and we've worked together forever," Jay said, "and...people need you, Nat. Let me tell you, ever since you were let go, and the show was pulled, we have had so many complaints, phone calls and e-mails asking why you aren't on anymore. People need you, so they don't feel so alone. Wasn't that what it was all about?" "I don't think I'm exactly the kind of person who should be giving people life advice," Nat said, "I mean, have you seen the mess I've made of my life?" "You didn't make a mess of it, he did. And you didn't get yourself fired, that asshole figured it wasn't worth the publicity anymore and wasn't sure where you might go next, but guess what, unpredictability is something society doesn't see anymore, and we need people like you, who are open and raw and honest and-" "Jay-" "-and women, god, you of all people being one should recognize how much society demands perfection from women. How much it hates women who are a mess. Other women who are messes need you to see that it's perfectly fine to be that way, and that they too can be successes even in spite of that. You're a...a hero, dude." Natasha felt her eyes swell up with tears, but she didn't want to cry. She'd never heard Jay be this honest with her, even in all the years they'd worked together. She sighed and rubbed her face on her sweater sleeve, sighing. "...would it be hard?" she asked. "Not at all," Jay said, "We'd have to find someone to edit, obviously, but...I think if we find the right person, the three of us could pull it off. The internet could use some kindness. It's become such a vicious horrid place full of unbridled hatred, and I think a wholesome, helpful place like what we could build would benefit a lot of people online." Natasha sighed and closed up the donut bag, tossing it onto the coffee table. She wiped her hands on her knees, smearing powdered sugar on her pajama pants. "Okay, so...how do we do this?" she asked. *** As the girls were sitting on the bleachers in their gym uniforms, watching the other students do one physical activity or another, Violet couldn't stop thinking about that girl from the library. She glanced at Courtney, who was now sucking on her lip and watching a handful of guys playing soccer nearby. "I'm not like her, am I?" Violet asked, and Courtney looked at her, confused. "Who?" she asked. "The girl from, the, uh, the...library, remember? Her? Earlier?" "Oh, right. No, you're not like her, she's clearly got bigger issues," Courtney said, "You're not like her, Violet." "If I were there, would you...you know, um, like...ugh...be my friend, still?" Violet asked, and Courtney shifted herself to be facing Violet fully now. "Of course I would!" Courtney said, "Why are you asking me this?" "I think we should, um, like, uh...what's that word?" "Befriend?" "Yeah, befriend her," Violet said, "Because she might, like, not uh...not have any friends, and it'd be nice for everyone to have a friend. We should, you know, befriend her." "I mean, if you want to. I'm not exactly sure how capable of communicating she is, you saw how she acted," Courtney said, "why is this bothering you so much?" "Because, like, people are so...nasty to me, and I...I don't want to ignore other people who, uh, who are worse off than me. I don't want to be like everyone else," Violet said, "I wanna be like my mom, I wanna be nice to others." Courtney smiled and patted Violet on the back, nodding, understanding. The two got up and headed to the water fountain for a drink. As Violet drank and Courtney leaned against the wall, still watching the boys playing soccer, she couldn't help but notice that the girl they were talking about was sitting at a picnic table nearby, still reading the same book. She wasn't in a PE uniform, so she wasn't in their class, so why was she out here and not in class? Courtney nudged Violet and pointed at her, and Violet nodded, the two of them heading towards the picnic table. As they approached, the girl looked up and hugged the storybook to her chest. Nobody said a word at first, until finally Violet cleared her throat and tried to open communication. "Hello," she said, "I saw you in the library." The girl didn't respond. "Um..." Violet continued, "what are you reading?" Again, no response. "Why aren't you in class?" Courtney asked, and the girl pointed at a group of other kids their age sitting nearby, with two adults talking to them all. Courtney understood. Special Ed. She sighed and looked at Violet, who so desperately wanted to make this work, and she felt bad for her. "What's your name?" Violet asked, "I'm Violet, this is Courtney." The girl stared at them, then finally said, "My name is Phoebe." "It's nice to meet you Phoebe," Violet said, Courtney nodding in agreement. "I have a bracelet," Phoebe said, holding out her wrist and showing them a metal band attached around her wrist, which bore her name, her age, and an acronym of one kind that simply read MRF. The girls looked at one another, then looked back at Phoebe who was smiling at them. "It's a nice bracelet," Violet said, and Phoebe laughed, rocking on the picnic table. Just then one of the two teachers out there with the other Special Ed kids called to Phoebe, and she got up and left without even saying goodbye. Courtney looked at Violet and chewed her lip. "So," she asked, "Feel any better?" "Not really," Violet said. *** Natasha and Jay went to pick up Violet that day at school; Natasha was too tired to drive, and wasn't even dressed in actual clothes, so Jay offered to drive her to the school to get Violet. As Violet climbed into the backseat of Jay's car and shut the door behind her, waving goodbye to Courtney, she was confused as to why Jay was here. "Hey kid," Jay said, "Nice to see you again." "You too," Violet said, "Why are you here?" "Hah, uh, I'm helping your mom," Jay said, "We're going to bring her show back and put it on the internet." "That's cool," Violet said, before tapping her mom on the shoulder and leaning up between the two front seats. Nat, who had one leg up on the dash and was reclining, looked back at her daughter and smiled at her. "What's up pumpkin? You have a good day at school?" she asked. "What's an MRF?" Violet asked. "What do you mean?" Nat asked. "I met a girl at school and, uh, and she had a, um, a bracelet, you know? But it said MRF and me and Courtney don't know what it means," Violet said. Nat shrugged and Jay cleared his throat as he turned into an intersection. "I went to high school with a girl who had one of those," Jay said, "Well, she was the sister of a friend of mine, actually. I asked him what it meant one time and he told me it stood for Mentally Retarded Female. Not sure exactly how the usage of that word is still flying by todays standards, especially in the medical community. I mean, sure, it's scientifically accurate but still." "...why don't I have one?" Violet asked, now fully grabbing Nat's attention. Nat looked behind her in the car at her daughter, a look of anguish on her face. "Because that's not what you are, Violet," Natasha said, "You're not that. There's levels to mental blockages, varying degrees and so forth, and you're not that at all. You might have some problems, but they're nothing you can't overcome. You're extremely high functioning. Why would you-" "I tried to be her friend, I wanted...to be like you, and...and um, and help someone," Violet said, starting to sound sad and sniffling, "but she...I don't know if she understood that. I wanna help people too." Natasha exhaled and sat back in her seat, so Violet wouldn't see her silently crying. "Kitten, you're a good kid, and you'll help plenty of people, believe me. Take your friend Courtney, you're helping her feel more comfortable at school, and that's worth a lot," Natasha said, "I'm proud of you." After Jay got back to Nat's house, and after Violet had secluded herself in her bedroom, headphones blaring into her ears while she finished her homework, Natasha opened a bottle of wine for herself and Jay. Jay sat back on the couch while Nat paced, sipping her wine, shaking her head. "I told you people need you," Jay said. "If we do this, if I agree to do this, we need to ensure that some of the money we make from this venture goes to a charitable endeavor," Natasha said, "Helping mentally challenged kids, or...or like, battered women or something." "I'm fine with that," Jay said, and with that, Natasha held her hand out for him to shake, which he did. "Happy to be in business with you," she said, making him laugh. *** The phone rang. It rang again. Natasha curled her finger around her hair and waited. She knew eventually it would be answered. She exhaled and looked at herself in her vanity mirror on her dresser, thinking about this new idea Jay had approached her with, and found she actually felt excited for it, which was a nice change of pace. Excitement instead of dread was something she found she could easily get used to. "Hello?" a voice asked. "Finally," Natasha said, "We need to talk." "What about?" the person asked. "You need to see your daughter," Nat said, making Stephen sigh on the other end of the line.
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Public Access follows Natasha Simple, a self qualified "self help" instructor with her own show on local public access. But when she makes a sudden and surprising statement on air, her entire life changes, for the better...and the worse. Archives
December 2022
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