I wrote this in 2002.  I am able to recall dialogue from 30 or 40 years ago, verbatim. Annalisa used to also be able to do this, I don’t know whether she still does or cares to.

In this bit we are 13 and 15 years old and we live in the middle of the desert. She is the big sister and I am trying to talk her into adventure which was a pattern in our relationship but also not that hard that do.  She has a Sadge Moon conjunct Jupiter  so although she was a lot more sensible and sensitive to risk than I was she could be convinced to join me in my exploits on occasion.  That I wanted her there reflects the Libra in my chart – I didn’t want to be alone.

If you want to picture this scene (and for her benefit), we were living in the middle of the desert here, sitting outside the house atop of Henry’s signature ping pong tables, the likes of which you have never seen in your life. It had an adobe base (mud) covered in stucco with 2 4″ thick slabs of concrete on top. There was a 1″ gap between the slabs where you could slide the ping pong net mounted on a 1″ X 4″ in and out.

This was necessary because the sun was so hot it would bake and crack the plastic rim of the net in short order so the net was put away when not in use. The concrete slabs would be boiling hot from baking in the sun all day but we’d sit out there with towels under our legs so we could plot and plan because it was private.

We were barefoot and tanned dark by the sun. We had to squint when we talked because it was blistering hot, there was no way to escape the heat and in whatever case I was 13 and I wanted to move to town. I’d had it with the desert is all and you can see our personalities here because we already had them. My impatience, her concern for clothing, etc.

“I think we should leave. Let’s get out of here,” I said.

“Let’s get out of here to where?”

“Anywhere. We’ll stay in a motel.”

“What? You’re fucking crazy, Elsa.”

“Oh come on. Do you want to be out here? I hate it out here. I’m sick of it. Let’s move.”

“We can’t move. What’s the matter with you? Where are we going to move, to? We live here.”

“That’s what I hate. Let’s get out of here,” I said.

“How? Tell me how we are going to get out of here and maybe I’ll do it.”

“We can stay in the motel. The one by your work.”

15 years old, Annalisa had lied about her age and got a job as a waitress in a coffee shop in town about 15 miles away. 13, had also lied about my age and worked in a taco stand, akin to Taco Bell, also in town.

“You don’t know how to stay in a motel.”

“Yes I do,” I said.

“You do?” she asked.

“Oh course I do. Remember when I came home from California? I got a motel then. You just walk in, give them your money and they give you a key. It’s easy,” I added.

“I forgot about that. You were 11,” she said. “You got a motel room when you were 11 years old.”

“So? We have enough money to stay in the motel. You can eat at work and so can I. What else is there?”

“What else is there?

What else is there? Are you fucking kidding? What about school?”

“You know we’re smart. We are smart as hell! We’ll figure it out. It’s two months until school. We’ll figure something out by then. Do you want to be stuck out here all day? I don’t want to be stuck out here.”

“We can’t quit school, Elsa.”

“I didn’t say quit school. I said that I want to go live in town.”

“Well, I gotta admit that it sounds good. It’s not a bad idea. Do you really think we can do it?”

“Of course.”

“Let me think about this,” she said.

“Okay. But don’t take too long. I want to go today if you want. I have 24 dollars. Do you want to leave today?”

“No I don’t want to leave today. Are you crazy? If we do it, we’ll leave tomorrow after we’ve had a chance to plan.”

“Okay. I am going to cross my fingers about it. I want out of here, so let’s do it, okay? I hate it out here.”

“Well I hate it too. I’ll admit that,” she said.

“Well good. Then we should move.”

The next day…

“Okay, I’ll do it. But you better have this figured out.”

“I do! I do!” I said planning to make it up as I went along.

“Okay. Let’s hear how we’re going to do it, and it better be good. One thing at a time. What is the first thing we need to do to get out of here?”

“This is going to be easy,” I said. “Pack! We have to pack our clothes.”

“In what? We don’t have any suitcases.”

“Oh come on. We’ll use a grocery bag.”

“You call that a plan?” she said looking skeptical.

“Oh come on. We have to carry our clothes in something, so what else but a bag?”

“Normal people move clothes using suitcases.”

“Well I’m sorry. We don’t have suitcases so if we want to move to town we have to use a grocery bag.”

“Oh brother. I hope the rest of your plan is better than this,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Well I don’t know what you expect,” I said, thinking she was unreasonable and a pain. “I can’t get us a suitcase but I can get us out of here.”

“Okay. Ohhhhhhhh – kay. Once we get our clothes in the bag, then what do we do? Call in a magic carpet?”

“Hey! You’re lucky I’m doing this. I’ll get us out of here and you know it.”

“You probably will. Elsa, you probably will.”

“Of course I will! Now where was I?”

“The suitcases. Our grocery bag suitcases. We are going to get them to town, how? You’re fucking crazy if you think I am going to walk to the road and hitchhike with a grocery bag. You better get us some transportation.”

“I will! I will! I can do that.  Transportation, I will get us some. We will ride to town.”

“You can get us a ride?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. If you do that  then I will put my clothes into a grocery bag and we’ll move to town. So when are you going to do this?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? How are you going to do it tomorrow?”

“Well, why would I wait? I am ready to go, aren’t you?”

We did move to town that summer. We spent about 2 months working and living in a motel, renting it on a night to night basis. We both went to work and each day I got off first so I’d go get her tips, put them together with my money and some from my high school boyfriend who also contributed and go rent the room.

I have to say we fared very well and got away with everything completely.