This is what writing can be like, at its best and worst moments.
My Mother and I have a Superior Adventure 3
This is a strange story. Strange, yes, but a lot of fun indeed.
After I wrote my book I began planning the second. At this time it is about 2/3 finished and this was in 2006. This tends to happen.
I knew that I would base the second novel in the series–I planned a series of three novels called The Rivers Women Trilogy–on my mother, when she was about 44 years old and my father had died suddenly. Quickly following this decision I had this idea. I wanted something kind of funky and off-beat so I got this picture in my mind of the no-man’s-land that exists between Oakland and the Hill District. I had an image in my mind of a large house, formerly occupied by rich people, then abandoned for years. Some way I would build the story around “my mom” finding this wreck of an old house and feeling drawn to it, then rehabilitating it, then having it be her own and rent out rooms. After that I unfolded my creased, falling-apart street map of Pittsburgh and looked at the area where my intuition led me. There was a street on the map called Allequippa Street; it was a short street and came to a dead end. This was the place.
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After a while, on a trip to Pittsburgh, I asked Peter and Michael if they would go with me and find Allequippa Street. Being the superior husband and son that they are (I’m bragging, I know) they said yes, let’s go. And Michael never goes anywhere without his camera. We found Allequippa Street. It goes uphill, the street is bumpy, and it ends with a huge wall of trees, shrubs, and what we used to call “jagger bushes.” We drove up to the top, I looked to my left, and saw several concrete steps leading to something but I couldn’t see. Already I was in such a state of excitement that I could hardly breathe. I pushed the leaves and branches aside and–there was my house. It wasn’t a mansion but it was a house built into the hill, as houses often are in Pittsburgh. Thank God for my son who had his special camera with him. Because I was afraid that I might have dreamed this, he took many pictures of the place so I would know for sure it was actually there. I had dreamed it/it was real.
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Then I began writing this book. I had a job working overnights in a group home and I thought it would all fall together, working nights and having plenty of time to write because the individuals who lived in the house were sleeping. Sad to say, it did not work out that way and I–according to a friend of mine– “lost my fire.” What I had written got saved in my computer and then not thought about; not entirely though. I knew it was there and would haunt me if I “buried” the manuscript and I was right. However, I did nothing about this. Life and its multiple concerns used up all my time and I didn’t fight these concerns and finish my book.
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When I began visiting my mother the year was 2010. As I said, I was always trying to think of fun things to do with her. One day it occurred to me–I told my mother that we were going on a super adventure to a place she’d never seen. She was happy just sitting in the passenger seat of my old car, watching Pittsburgh fly by. I found Allequippa Street easily and drove to the top and looked. What I wanted to do was go around the place and see the other side. To do this I had to drive up a short hill with many potholes. Praying that I wouldn’t blow out a tire, I pushed on. My mother was in ecstasy. Not only had she never been there before; nobody she knew had been there before.
We made it up the hill. This was the moment in time that I have locked away in my memory of those times spent with my mother. It was a sunny day; she walked further out to the cliff edge–I was watching carefully of course–and she looked down, then looked out at the river and the Fort Pitt Bridge. She was breathing deeply and JUST FOR ONCE, SHE DIDN’T LOOK LIKE A BIRD IN A CAGE. SHE WAS FREE. So my mission was partially fulfilled.
Then we explored what was there. “My house,” the one I dreamed up and was in existence, was locked up and abandoned, just like what I wrote. My mother was a woman with a mission–she tried several doors, looked in all the windows standing on tip-toe. I watched her and my spirit was filled with joy.
“I wish we could get in there!” she said. I said I felt the same way.
We walked around a little, just looking at things. My mother was poking around in the shrubs and bushes; I was hoping she wouldn’t get poison ivy! What would my aunts say about that?! But she knelt and pulled out something that had been buried in the shrubs. If you take a look at my photo you’ll see a big owl. That’s what she found; and some may laugh at this part but she pulled it out in such a way that it resembled delivering a baby. In the mean time I was getting nervous. Here we were, almost in the Hill District, and trespassing, in a way. Plus I had to keep an eye on my mother, except that she was just so happy rooting around that I didn’t want to leave.
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Then a man came out of the house that was nearest “my house.” God, I was scared. I thought for sure—I don’t know what I thought exactly would happen– we were in a strange place. But he was very nice and friendly. He didn’t even ask what we were doing there, so I told him the truth. I said that I’m a writer and the house behind his was going to be a big part of a book I wanted to write. He was very surprised and happy. He couldn’t quite believe that in this God-forsaken part of Pittsburgh, a writer would find something to write about.
Then I showed him the owl that my mother had “delivered” from the bushes. I was so overcome by 1) seeing my mom so happy 2) standing at the top of Allequippa Street and dreaming about my book 3) the appearance of the owl that I began to almost babble and I offered to pay him something for the owl. He laughed and said he didn’t even know the thing was there. What he did ask me was–would I tell him when the book was finished? So of course I said yes.
At this point my mother I were both kind of exhausted for different reasons. This was the only experience we had together that she was able to recall. Wow. That was food for thought. But then thoughts ballooned into dreams and I decided I was going to take my mother to live with me and we would do all kinds of fun things, there would be many happy days just like this one, etc, etc. I knew this would not ever happen so I decided to remember everything about this day when we went to this rocky, lonely part of Pittsburgh, I did not get a flat tire, my mother found my owl, and the man living there was nice to us.
lgmwriting 