I spent the rest of the day stressing over my lack of ….documentation.

I would rather go through life with no documentation than saddled with Joe Jr's birth certificate and history.

I also suddenly realized ….I'm technically a minor with no legal guardian.... which makes me a prime target for the 'social welfare' system. The MAN... in all his infinite benevolence... would strip me of my freedom and put me under the control of foster-strangers simply because I haven't had the official number of birthdays. ….and once I DO have the official number of birthdays, the MAN will remove me from foster care and take direct control... shipping my body and soul to southeast asia to do his killing for him.

I HAD to deal with the 'documentation dilemma' sooner than later.

I got to work about a half hour early as usual. Got the usual wide smile from Buck the Bouncer ...okay, he was officially Buck the doorman, but we all called him Buck the Bouncer ...or Bouncer Buck... because that was his real talent and job. And without saying a word, I started helping Manny the barback set up for the night.

It was a good crowd for a Tuesday. The band wasn't bad, but I didn't think I'd see them on American Bandstand anytime soon. They called themselves “Cerulean Enigma” and I got the impression that they wanted to be Pink Floyd, only commercial. 'As if Pink Floyd could somehow get on the radio or the billboard charts', I chuckled to myself at the thought of a record promoter trying to talk Kasey Kasem or Dave Hull into playing 'Careful with that axe, Eugene' or 'Mademoiselle Nobs'.

Well, what these guys lacked in musical originality, they made up for in presentation. Whoever was doing their lightshow was fantastic. I think most of our crowd had dropped acid before they came and were just nursing drinks until it kicked in. I was sure the light show guy was going to hit it big, and eventually end up with a band that was going places. Maybe Lothar and the Hand People, or Major Domos Obsidian Express....

It was a good night. Not an outstanding night, like the time a drunken Jim Morrison crashed the stage and ended up jamming with this Doors cover band, the Reptile Royals. Not an outstandingly bad night like when Jack Stryker of the Reigndevils OD'd right in the middle of the show. No, this was a good night. Nothing to tell friends about, and nothing to make you want to take a scalding hot shower when you got home. The mood was mellow.

While Manny was closing up the bar, I wandered over to him.

“You like your job?”

“Sure. What's not to like?”

“Yeah. Me too. I don't even mind being paid under the table...”

He nodded. I went on.

“What with taxes and social security and stuff.... even at the minimum on the books, I'd go home with less....”

He nodded and looked at me, patiently waiting for me to get to my point.

“Still, I don't see myself doing this forever......”

Another nod and a slight smile.

“And there's gonna come a time when I'm gonna have to show someone a social security card...”

Nod.

“But to get that... you need lots of other paper work.....”

“Yeah... it sucks.”

“Yeah....” I wasn't sure he was going to bite, but even if he didn't, I was sure he wouldn't narc me out.

“There are guys who know guys who know ways....”

“...wish I knew one of them...”

“Yeah... they're not cheap....”

“Well, they wouldn't be.... not if they do things right.... they would have to know people... in places.... and that all costs money....”

Manny just nodded. “Yeah.”

“Funny thing is I should have my own papers.... but mom left home when she found she was going to have me... and I don't know if she gave birth in a box or behind a stove...” I tried to plant the idea of a feral cat having a litter.

Many just nodded. “Super sucks girl. Now you're officially nobody.”

I nodded and sighed. “...yeah....”

“I can't even ask anyone on the reservation where my Mom grew up”

“You were born on an Indian Reservation?”

I smiled. Little nibbles. “My memory's not as good as you think. I couldn't tell you. All I know is that's where my mom found out she was pregnant. I just remember being a kid growing up in a trailer park in Junction City Kansas. I do know my folks moved there after I was born.”

“Why don't you just ask your folks?”

“Well, Dad was lost in 'Nam and Mom split with the trailer by the time I got home from school.”

“She split while you were at school???” His jaw dropped.

I laughed ruefully. “No. It wasn't like I got off the schoolbus and found an empty space.... They sent me away to boarding school when Dad shipped out, so Mom wouldn't have to deal with me.”

“Boarding school. Damn. I don't see you as raise-hell-girl.” he smiled.

I smiled back sadly. “No.... that would've been Mom”

“And you have no birth certificate or drivers license or nothing?”

“Not even a library card.” I tried to smile.

“Damn. Must be records somewhere.”

“That's what I thought, but I found nothing anywhere. That's why I think she must have had me like some kind of stray. I don't even know if I was born in a hospital. If I was, I never found it... and it's not like I haven't been looking.”

“What about that ….boarding school?”

“I think the only paperwork they're interested in is the back tuition bills.”

Manny nodded and scowled. “Sounds like you'd be better off just starting from scratch.”

I nodded solemnly. I think I was reeling him in.

“A birth certificate from that ...reservation... probably would be kinda hard to doublecheck...”

“Someone would have to be pretty determined” I nodded. “And it's not like I'm some wanted criminal....” I smiled.

“...or an escaped heiress off on a fling” he smiled.

That actually made me laugh. “...I WISH!...”

“So you need a birth certificate from the reservation or tribal council or whatever....”

I nodded. “With that I could get a social security card... and a drivers license....”

“...AND a library card.” he laughed.

I suddenly felt better about my prospects.

It took a few weeks... and a lot of double shifts... and Colin, who offered his van to roadie for other bands to help me raise the money. My housemates even had a 'rent party' where everyone paid a cover so they could make their rent, but it really was for me. I was really touched, and really freaked, since I could have bought a brand new Karmann Ghia with this money... and I still wasn't sure that it wouldn't all go wrong before I got my 'papers'.

But somebody out there likes me, because a guy knew a guy who knew 'people'.... I figured it was someone with a printing press and a real talent... because I got a very official looking birth certificate stating that Olivia Bracco was born to Nadine Bracco on March 22nd 1951. I didn't want to change my actual birthday, but I wanted to be able to work, and stay out of the childcare system... so I made myself two years older. Frank Lightfeather was listed as the father – not spouse. I didn't mind being the illegitimate daughter of an unwed mother. In fact, I thought 'Love Child' sounded like a totally hippie thing to be.... who would want to be an 'obligation child' or an 'indifference child' ...or, oh no... a 'guilt child'! I was totally cool with being a child of love... and I guess the Man was too... because I got my social security card and the clerk at the counter barely even looked at me.

So now I could start paying taxes... and get called for jury duty... and... man... being an upstanding citizen was turning out to be a total bummer!

Well, not a total bummer.

When I handed my birth certificate to Doctor O'Brien, she examined it, smiled at me and said 'very good!'. I'm still not sure if she was commenting on the certificate itself or just that we could now wrap up the paperwork and move on with her research. I think that's exactly the way she wanted it.

I continued to work under the table at the club. The last thing I wanted to do was get Manny in trouble by handing the boss my social security card and expecting minimum wage and taxes withheld. But having a social security card, and once I was able to talk Colin into letting me use his van for the road test, my drivers license, I knew that my next job would be a real job... like at a bank or an insurance agency.

I wasn't expecting that my first 'real' tax-paying job would be as a projectionist at a foreign movie house.

Really, I was supposed to work the ticket booth, but once the tickets were sold and the film began, I'd go up to the projection booth and hang out with Max. I think he still thought he had a chance with me, and I still thought he was weird.... but harmless, and once you learned how to take him, he could be funny and interesting. He knew a lot about stuff no one seemed to care about. He could go on about Bergman and Sergei Eisentsein and the French New Wave... one night we were showing Goddard's Alphaville and he made me watch it while he 'deconstructed it' then let me go down into the theater and watch it myself ...with my eyes opened by all the ideas he had put there. He really should be back at college, taking film and philosophy classes. Heck, he should be teaching film classes... I liked having him around, and I was eternally grateful that he let me on the bus way back when... but he seemed to be wasting his time and talents. I wondered when he was finally going to move on.

A mere two weeks later, it turned out. Somehow selective service tracked him down and he got a letter that since his student deferment was no longer valid, he was to report for processing in 14 days.

“Processing... they call it.... you ever read Upton Sinclair? “The Jungle”? That's the kind of processing I'm talking about. We're all just sides of beef on meathooks, lined up to be processed by the war machine!” he railed.

When Harold the manager came to me in my ticket booth and asked me if I had seen Max today – he knew we were housemates – I saw the panic in his eyes, and just knew what happened.

Max split. He was probably halfway to Canada by now. And Harold had a theater full of people and no projectionist.

I had spent enough time with Max in the booth and paid attention. I was curious about what he did, and he was proud to talk about it, explaining that it only looked easy because he was so good at his job.

He wasn't that good. And the job wasn't that hard if you paid attention and thought ahead. Sure there were little panic moments like film breaks and gate jams, but I noticed that if you let the film run loosely between your fingers as you rewound the reels, you could often feel the damaged sprocket holes and apply an ounce of prevention before it broke in the projector. As for jammed film gates, let's just say that, like so many boys, Max wasn't so diligent at keeping things clean.

Once I bailed out Harold and got through the evenings three showings, he offered me Max's job – if Max never came back. Then he said if Max ever did come back, he'd fire him anyway. So I guess either way I got the job. And, due to the little things I already mentioned, showings started going a lot smoother.

So my life quickly settled into three main parts. Lab rabbit with Dr O'Brien and the 'mad scientists' as I fondly nicknamed her colleagues. Working girl... waitressing at Quay's, and projectionist at The Lightbox. And my volunteer work at the shelter. And in my spare time, being 'Aunt Olive', and hanging out with Kesey and Colin.

When Max lit out for Canada, I mentioned to Colin that we were looking for a new housemate, and told him what his split of the rent would be.

“You want me to move in with you?” he smiled.

“Well, it's not moving in with me... Actually, it's Max's old room.... and there are others... have you met Saffron or Delila?”

He shook his head and smiled. “So, it's a house full of chicks... like some kind of harem?”

“Dream on, Don Knotts. It's no harem and you're no love god.” I laughed. “God, maybe you're too much like Max! And you won't be the only 'cock on the block' Chill is Delila's old man, and he practically lives there.”

“You mean he sleeps over?”

I nodded and smiled. “A lot. But I don't think there's much sleeping. Why? Are you a light sleeper?”

“No!” I can't believe you! He glared at me.

I squinted and pulled my head back like a pigeon. What the hell was he getting uptight about?

“I can't believe you'd expose your nephew to all this hippie decadence!”

I exploded with laughter as Colin tried to keep up his disapproving glower and Kesey just cocked his head, seeming perplexed.

“OK. Maybe Chill isn't the best male role model...” I laughed “That's why he needs to spend more time with his dad..... it would be so much more convenient if he were as close as the next room....”

He rubbed his chin. “...and your housemates would be ok with this?”

“Oh. I think you're pre-approved.”

He returned my warm smile.

“Oh, no... I have nothing to do with it....” I held up my hands. “....but any friend of Kesey....”

He grinned. “Sounds tempting....” and he leaned back against his van. “still, I've been at my old place since I moved out here, and I'm kind of tight with the landlord....”

I tapped the side of his van. “I know it will be tough to leave such luxury... but do it for Kesey... he needs his dad.” I smiled. “Anyway, if you don't take it, they may end up renting it to some square who works in an office or something.”

“....OK. I'm in.” he grinned. “...but I'm only doing it because our little one needs a mom AND dad.”

“Hey, wait a minute! I thought I was the cool aunt? I get to do the fun things with him. I'm not ready to be a mother!” I kidded ...and died just a little inside when I thought to myself 'I never will be'.

“Hey. Whoa. ….earth to auntie Olive.... can you hear me major Tom?....” Colin waved his hands in front of my face.

“Oh. Sorry. Just lost in thought there for a moment. I'm back now.” I smiled weakly.

“Second thoughts? Is me moving in a problem?”

“Oh. No. God no.”

“...because for a moment you looked all...”

“Oh. Nothing to do with you. No, you moving into Max's old room is totally cool. Everyone likes you....”

“Everyone?” Colin shot me a look.

“OK. Max doesn't like any guys. I think he's really insecure and gets all threatened around other guys.

This really seemed to tickle Colin.

“Really?... I threaten Max's ...what?... his masculinity? His....” he was groping for words

“Rooster-ness?” I smiled. “OK. Not a word.... but I think it's the best description...."

Colin smiled. “Works for me..... So, I threatened Max's....studliness?” he flashed a goofy grin.

“Oh, god... that's worse than roosterness!” I laughed.

“Yeah. But I've actually heard people say 'studliness' ...so it is a word.” he leered.

I shook my head vigorously “Please don't ever say that word again, or I'll have to cut my ears off.”

Colin just laughed. “OK. OK. ….so, Max didn't like me because I'm all....” and he pursed his lips and pouted like Mick Jagger and did Mick's little strut-walk, just ...taunting me....

“Argh! OK. OK!” I laughed “...even ..worse!...: and I covered my eyes.

Colin let out a hearty laugh

So it was done. We had a new housemate, Kesey had a permanent pad, and I started seeing a lot more of Colin.