Travis

presque isle, maine
i moved there on a whim
following a false lead on life
to the cheapest apartment i could find
in the shortest amount of time
it was part Section 8 housing,

and even though i was in my mid-20s
my mind was like an 18 year old-
impressionable after a year and half
in Pennsylvania
had taken me down a few pegs

a teenage mom lived next door
school age
but not attending.

sometimes we would meet in the stairwell,
her eyes always averted mine.
lack of confidence.
lack of worth.
she really had no chance.
her body language dripped shame.

she might have been
the most beaten down person i have ever seen
when you are 16, in that position
i don't think things can get worse
and they certainly aren't headed for better.

Travis would come up the stairs
wreaking of weed,
talking to his cronies.
blast through the door
as the man of the house
yelling and throwing things around,
but he wasn't shit.

The baby would cry for hours.
Is anyone even around?, I would wonder...
But then Travis would yell "SHUT UP!"
and something would go flying.
And I wouldn't get involved.

One night, a fight ensued.
Baby screamed.
Mother screamed.
Travis went on a tirade,
and the apartment shook as he slammed the door
and ran down the stairs.

It was -30F that night.
I seriously debated whether I should follow him
and toss him off the dam and into the freezing water
and end his worthless life.

I almost justified going to jail
to free this girl-
with her slumped-forward shoulders, downcast eyes
and her infant
of Travis

Shaking, I bolted across the hall,
opening the door without knocking,
to make sure everyone was okay.
Teenage Mom was there with her teenage friend.
Both wide-eyed and in shock
As a good samaritan, I was an intruder.
Help is not help
if it's unwelcome.

It was then that I knew
She must have grown up in this shit

She was going to hand down
those same life parameters, standards, and expectations
over to that poor baby

my belief that humans were inherently good
perished that night


kp