“Maybe far away or maybe real nearby…”
I know the lyrics to the entire musical and can sing them to this day.
“ANNIE” on Broadway, I saw it with Sarah Jessica Parker playing the role of “ANNIE”. That was back when my maternal grandmother still loved me and my parents pretended to be married.
Somebody bought me the record album of the Soundtrack from “ANNIE” and I played it over and over until I knew every word. I chubby kid, behind closed doors (locked too), I would sing and dance and I was somebody else. Actually I believed that I was the actress instead of the character. I was Sarah Jessica before she was famous; singing and pretending to get ready for my BIG performance. Always behind locked doors.
The only family that I ever had was flawed at best. What remains is a shambles that I keep away from until they come knocking to ask for something. It was always MY family that was sick or wrong.
Maybe it’s me. Maybe I ruin families. Or I’m simply not meant to be a part of a family – I am poison. Like the doctors returning from Africa, with only the best intentions, I should be isolated and studied. Instead of seeking the cure for Ebola, they would study the little girl who was never meant to be a part of a family.
Maybe everything I touch, everyone I touch is hurt. I should be exiled to a place where there are no other humans. Leave me alone with dogs, books, paper and pen and stay away. I am not meant for people.
Fool that I am, I jump through hoops and do whatever my in-laws need. Their children hate me. My husband goes between my comrade in arms and the lion tamer – complete with whip and chair. He tells me that its me and he must be correct. The damage that was genetically imposed upon me has created a monster.
I hate being a monster, all I want is love and family. Each time I get close enough to touch my dream it is pulled away, leaving me with hands filled with splinters.
How I miss my father, my sweet baby hound, my sister-cousins and now the children that have been stolen from me because I am “bad”. My mother was right, I am “bad” and anyone near me is in danger. Every female family relationship I encounter: I ruin.
My dearest Alexandra and Matthew – I love you both as though you were my own. Your parents have decided that I am toxic and want to protect you. Please know that I’m not a monster, I love you both with my entire heart.
I don’t want to ruin more than I already have at this point. Perhaps I should simply take my little dog and disappear rather than risk hurting any of you.
“Please come get your baby – maybe”.
Maybe far away
or maybe real nearby
he may be pouring her coffee
she may be straightening his tie
Maybe in a house
all hidden by a hill
she’s sittin’ playing piano
he’s sittin’ paying a bill
betcha they’re young
betcha they’re smart
bet they collect things like
ashtrays and art
betcha they’re good
why shoudn’t they be?
their one mistake
was giving up me!
so maybe now its time,
and maybe when I wake,
they’ll be there calling me baby, maybe…
Betcha he reads
Betcha she sews
Maybe she’s made me
a closet of clothes
Maybe they’re strict
As straight as a line
don’t really care
as long as they’re mine!
So maybe now this prayer’s
the last one of its kind.
won’t you please come get your baby, maybe…