Rosemary’s Children

Chapter One

San Sebastian Avenue

by

Jon Presco

Rosemary’s Children

The first hint I got that someone related to me wanted my mother, dead, was when Aunt June and her husband, Uncle Vinnie, came to visit it us on San Sebastian Avenue. Being a Child Mind Reader, I always got a good hit of June’s hidden agenda, because she couldn’t wait till Rosemary was dead to start erasing all her sister’s input, and install her world view in us. For reasons never divulged June and Vincent did not have a child. We could be had if June was cunning enough.

I can admit to having fits of exaggeration from time to time. Being a surrealist artist at the age of twelve, a poet, and an avid reader of Fairytales, I often prefer fiction to non-fiction. I like to mix the two, because we Presco Children grew up surrounded by hidden agendas aimed at doing us no good. The Parents were never found guilty of anything, thus they were slipping their shame-based eggs of evil into our innocent being around the clock! There had to be something wrong with us – all the time! We never got a break. When our beloved Christine died, the Executor invited strangers and outsiders to come on down and win some cash and prizes in the ‘Guess What Reality Is’ game. One biographer claimed Christine hid in a closet and rendered adult-like works of art. She was three, going on four. My sister Vicki is about three in the photograph above.

Let me offer this image unto you, my reader. Lil Christine sneaks away from the T.V. room and tip-toes upstairs. Looking over her shoulder, she turns the knob on the closet door. Heaving a sigh of relief that once again she escaped detection, she fumbles for the flashlight. Seeing that the batteries are running low, she knows she must work fast before they fail. God knows where she is going to get the money to buy more batteries.

“If Christine’s parents had embraced her talent, there might be existing works from her childhood, but this was not to be. Fearing that Christine would steal her brother’s spotlight as the family artist, Christine’s mother, Rosemary, forbade Christine to draw at home. The only time she could express herself was at school or in her closet, by flashlight, when everyone else was asleep. Though we don’t have images to prove it, Christine’s kindergarten teacher has said that, by age five, Christine was already drawing with adult skill. She can remember Christine’s pictures of animals having near perfect detail and perspective.”

Vic and Rosemary bought me a professional easel and bid me to set it up in the T.V. room and paint away as my loving family watched ‘Father Knows Best’. When Christine tried to pass a note to Uncle Vinnie, begging him to take her away from hell, I snatched it out of her hand and told Mommy on her. I squealed with joy as Rosemary beat my sister with a clothes hanger. This is real, or, another attempt by outsiders to drive a wedge between the Presco Children, and our Parents, so we can be dragged off to make it all work for them?

Our aunt began coveting our mother’s children when Vic got caught stealing Granny Goose potato chips, and lost his bond. His career as a chip delivery guy had ended a year earlier, and, no one would hire him. How shrill and skinny Rosemary managed to evict four beautiful children from her womb, blew everyone’s mind. I was a firm believer that it never happened, and was willing to be crated off to the Rice home, if not for the fact June was a specter. She sacred people, and no one dare say so.

When June looked at you, she made it clear she was not pleased with what she saw. Everything – had to go! We were – trash! Oh sure we had become attached to tiny little souls, and our flawed identities, but, we were not Catholic enough. We were, impure.

Blowing into town for Easter, Rosemary did her best to make us look good. But, when we ran out to see their new Dodge convertible – with the giant fins – we were all over them! Vincent tried to protect his babies, but, we were out of control with envy. Vicki was drooling on one of them, which caused June to jump from the car and shove us in the backseat. When Rosemary came out of the house to see her sister, June snarled at her as Vinnie peeled rubber down the street.

“I’m taking your children shopping! How could you! How could you!”

Now, to be honest, I do not recall the car that Vinnie drove, but, I will never forget the Bigalows making that right off Hollywood on to San Sebastian in their brand new Chrysler New Yorker convertible. Aunt Bonnie was wearing shades and a long white scarf. Seeing me, they pulled over and parked behind the 1936 Plymouth. Getting out, Jim went and checked out the old wreck

“Who owns this? Look, the front door is held closed by a piece of hemp rope.”

When Christine became the world famous artist known as Rosamond, she bought Micky Roonie’s firs house and a brand new Cadillac. Her probate makes a stink about her spending sprees, and her biographer rakes her over the coals for her – Love of Shopping! She took the rap! But, you see, when your rich relatives denigrates you and make you feel you will be taken from your home and seperated from your siblings you love dearly, you never forget this abuse. Everyone loves – payback!

Christine is wearing a pink sweater buttoned at the top, with flowery dress and small purse wherein is the dollar June gave her to put in the collection box.

Vicki is wearing her famous doll look. She has this way of looking at the camera that needs to be defined.

“I am here!…………Just, here.”