fear

Hard Time Marrying Part 14

She gathered the children next to the wall in bed with her with the fireplace poker hidden the quilts.  It wouldn’t be much protection from an ax or gun, but she might be able to put an eye out before he got to her.  Fatigued, she leaned against the wall so she wouldn’t be caught lying down when he burst in.  Though she was never aware of drifting off, the sound of the man trying the door awoke her just as the sun was rising.  Peeking out the window she saw he had put a pail of milk and basket of eggs on the step instead of bringing them in like he had every other morning.   “Come on out and git this for them kids.  They got to eat.” Jack trotted happily behind him as he headed to the barn.  When she was sure he was far enough away, she reached for the provisions.  Unable to lift the heavy milk bucket, she had to take it out a dipper full at a time and wasted a good bit trying to strain it into a pitcher.  Filling the baby’s bottle, and struggled to change the wriggling child’s malodorous diaper before finally giving up to let her run free.   The boy tipped a chair and banged his head trying to get an egg. The eggs crashed to the floor. The baby howled in unison with her brother, though he didn’t need any help. She burst into loud wails faced with the hopelessness of the situation.  Clearly, she couldn’t take care of even herself in her condition.  Desperate, she opened the door to the man’s banging.  If he’d wanted to kill them, he could have sneaked up on them in the night instead of bringing breakfast to the door.

“If you ain’t gonna be able to feed these young’uns, let me in so I can.”  She had no trouble understanding his shouted instructions.  He got straight to work, breaking up cold cornbread into warm milk, since the eggs were lost.  Gesturing for her to sit in a straight chair at the table, he handed her the baby girl propping her between Anya’s injured arm against the wall and raised his voice. “You feed this baby.  You need to earn your keep.  That other arm works fine.” 

While Anya fed the girl, she sneaked peeks at the man, trying not to get caught while he crumbled cornbread into the boy’s milk.  He made no effort to fix Anya’s meal, turning to hear and shouted.  “Now when you git your fill, clean this mess up.  I got too much to do to take care of youngun’s and an addled woman.”

Anya lost her fear as her face flamed with fury at the insult. “Addled!  I ain’t addled!  I’m jest kind’a deaf but I’m a’getting’ better!  And don’t go hollerin’ so loud at me.  I ain’t off!  You’d act addled too if you got cracked in the head.  At least I ain’t crazy enough to claim you’re my husband!  Just give me a few days more an’ I’ll be out of here.  I just gotta figure a way to take care of myself and git to a town.”

The damn holding back Joe’s frustration broke.  “I’ll be glad to see the last of you, but I got a crop to put in and cain’t take time to haul your sorry ass thirty miles to town. Me and these kids ain’t gonna starve on account of you!  You ain’t nothing to us!”  He didn’t even realize it was the first time he’d referred to himself and the kids as a unit. “The circuit preacher will be over to the Meadow Creek Church in two weeks for revival.  I’ll take you the twelve miles over there and some of them do-gooders from church can put you to work or git you to town.  It ain’t nothing to me what you do.”

“I ain’t staying here another night.” She spouted, slamming her open hand on the table.

“Suit yourself.  Talphus is thirty miles east and Meadowcreek Church is twelve miles northwest of here.  Them church folks will be gathering after spring planting.  Good riddance!  Come on Little Joe.  Now, you watch the baby out of the fire.  Me and Little Joe got work to do.”  He grabbed the little boy’s hand and slammed the door on the way out.

Six of ’em Got Me!

imageDuring World War II, the Army had soldiers doing maneuvers in the woods near Aunt Mary and Uncle Willie’s house in Sibley.  Aunt Mary had been raving about the sex-crazed GIs running wild in the woods thereabouts, probably more to keep her girls in line than anything else.  She wouldn’t even let them go to the toilet or hang clothes on the line by themselves.  They always had to do everything three at a time.  It must have been lovely crowding three girls in a two hole toilet on a hot day.  God knows, one of them couldn’t have stood outside alone and unprotected.

At any rate, due to Aunt Mary’s unrelenting vigilance, her three terrified girls had remained chaste and unmolested by the lusty soldiers.  One hot August afternoon, Aunt Mary broke her own rule and slipped out to the toilet alone for a little personal time.  Just as she settled her generous bottom on the wooden seat, she disturbed some nose-blind red wasps building a home over the stinking quagmire of human refuse below.  The offended wasps couldn’t resist the tempting target she presented and launched a viscious attack on her tender nether portions.

Aunt Mary burst out of the toilet, shrieking in pain and shock, peeing herself while trying to run with her drawers around her ankles.  Bursting through the screen door to the back porch rubbing her wounds, with tears running down her face, she shrieked at her terrified girls, “There were six of ’em.  They got me when I went to the toilet!”

Assuming she’d been accosted by the fearsome soldiers she’d warned against so often, all thee girls ran down the road, screaming for the neighbors to come to their rescue.  Even though poor Aunt Mary was in no condition for company, very soon she had plenty!

 

 

Lou and Lynn Part 10 Aunt Kat’s Comforting Visit: A Bedtime Story

The girls headed back to the bedroom. Lynn’s mom sat down and patted the bed beside her. Lou sat next to her. Lynn sat on the other side of Lou holding Lynn’s hand. Lynn’s mom put her arm around Lynn. “First of all, let’s get comfortable. My name is Kathy. My nickname is Kat. Would you like to call me Aunt Kat? That seems a lot closer than Miss Kat. I think we’re gonna feel like family before we get you home. We will get this figured out, somehow. It’s really confusing now but I can tell you and your grandma love each other a lot. She’s not the kind of person to forget about someone she loves. You can bet on that.
That sheriff is not taking you anywhere. You’re staying right here with us. How else would your grandma find you? Now don’t you worry. I’ll take care of you just like you were my own. Lynn, get Lou one of your nightgowns. There’s plenty of room for both of you in Lynn’s big bed. See this pretty quilt on the bed. My grandma made it for my wedding present. You two girls can play till bedtime. You are guaranteed to sleep sweetly under it. I’ll be back to tuck you in.”

Lou felt so much better. Lynn spread out her Chinese Checker set out on the floor. In a few minutes they were giggling. I’ve never seen this game.” said Lou. “It’s a lot of fun! I usually just play on my IPad.”

“Oh, I don’t have to play this on a special pad. Me and Billy usually just sit on the floor. Mother doesn’t want us to play on the bed.” Lynn explained.

Lou laughed, “An IPad is an electronic tablet that has lots of games on it. I play with mine all the time. Do you have a tablet?”

“Sure, I have tablets but I have to save them for school. I save my old papers to draw pictures on and play tic tac toe and hangman. Do you like to draw pictures?” Lynn asked.

“Yeah. What do you draw?” Lou asked. “I like to do monsters and robots. Sometimes I do really good robots crashing down buildings and bridges.” said Lou.

“ I do really good horses and mountains. Sometimes I do cowboys camping or wagon trains. Do you want to have a contest? That would be fun!” Lynn jumped up and got some paper and pencils. They lay on the floor and sketched. Then Lynn’s mother came in with a plate of peanut butter sandwiches. She also brought cups of cocoa.

“Thanks, Mother.” Said Lynn.

“Yes, thanks, Aunt Kat” repeated Lou.

“You girls didn’t eat much supper, so I brought you a snack. What’s this?” she asked, looking at their pictures. These are really good!

“We’re having a drawing contest! Who wins?” asled Lynn.

“Don’t make me choose.” she said. “You are both really good. Lou, I believe I saw a little smile. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, “she smiled. “I am. I know Grandma will be back for me.”

“There you go. I’m sure she will. Now, clean up and go to bed. Don’t talk too long. We have a busy day tomorrow.” She kissed them both and tucked them in.

“Mother, you always say that.” giggled Lynn.

“That’s because tomorrow is always a busy day. Good night, girls.” she closed the door quickly.

“Your mom is nice.“ said Lou.

“Yeah, she is.” said Lynn.

“But your dad’s a little scary.” Lynn told her.

“Yep.” said Lynn.

Lady, Your Kid’s Stuck in the Ditch

A dispassionate young boy pounded on my front door. Looking at me dully, he announced. “Lady, your kid’s stuck in the ditch.” I wasn’t expecting that on a cold, rainy morning. The city had been installing a new sewer system. As soon as the ditches were deeply excavated the rain started. It rained and rained and rained. The ditches ran like a river. My five-year-old, John, hadn’t been out for days. Finally, the weather cleared.

John was desperate to get out. I made a bad decision, agreeing to let him play on the carport with a box of toy parts. I checked on him every few minutes, glad to see him deeply involved in his favorite pastime, disassembling his toys and building something else with the random parts. In combination with an erector set, this could occupy him for hours. His dog, as always, was at his side.

Then, I decided to vacuum, my second bad decision, hence the pounding on the door. The kid pointed to the overflowing ditches where John stood, thigh-high in the deep running water. His little dog was running up and down the ditch, barking desperately. Horrified, I flew out and grabbed his arms, trying to pull him out. He was stuck! What on earth? I waded in, braced myself, grabbing him under the arms and tugged. With a strange sucking noise he broke loose. We both rolled backwards in the muck. Instead of relief at being rescued, John wailed,”Daddy’s boots! Get Daddy’s boots!” There was no getting those boots stuck deep in that muddy ditch. It turns out, John had helped himself to his dad’s knee boots, sure he’d be able to ford the ditch. Retrieving them was his major concern.

All’s well that ends well. My kid survived being stuck in the “ditch.” About four days later, Bud took a shovel and dug his boots out of the mud.

Six of ’em Got Me!

imageDuring World War II, the Army had soldiers doing maneuvers in the woods near Aunt Mary and Uncle Willie’s house in Sibley.  Aunt Mary had been raving about the sex-crazed GIs running wild in the woods thereabouts, probably more to keep her girls in line than anything else.  She wouldn’t even let them go to the toilet or hang clothes on the line by themselves.  They always had to do everything three at a time.  It must have been lovely crowding three girls in a two hole toilet on a hot day.  God knows, one of them couldn’t have stood outside alone and unprotected.

At any rate, due to Aunt Mary’s unrelenting vigilance, her three terrified girls had remained chaste and unmolested by the lusty soldiers.  One hot August afternoon, Aunt Mary broke her own rule and slipped out to the toilet alone for a little personal time.  Just as she settled her generous bottom on the wooden seat, she disturbed some nose-blind red wasps building a home over the stinking quagmire of human refuse below.  The offended wasps couldn’t resist the tempting target she presented and launched a viscious attack on her tender nether portions.

Aunt Mary burst out of the toilet, shrieking in pain and shock, peeing herself while trying to run with her drawers around her ankles.  Bursting through the screen door to the back porch rubbing her wounds, with tears running down her face, she shrieked at her terrified girls, “There were six of ’em.  They got me when I went to the toilet!”

Assuming she’d been accosted by the fearsome soldiers she’d warned against so often, all thee girls ran down the road, screaming for the neighbors to come to their rescue.  Even though poor Aunt Mary was in no condition for company, very soon she had plenty!

 

 

Death of a Mean Girl (from Kathleen’s Memoirs of the 1930s)

Vernell Mullins and Jessie Hollins cornered me as I headed out of the schoolhouse after school one terrible day, cutting me off from the troop exiting the building.  Backing me against me against the wall, they bent over and got right in my face. “We’re gonna pull your pants down and look at your tile.” (They pronounced it tile, but I know now they had to have meant tail) I was terrorized.  They must have been at least sixteen.  To have been singled out by them for such a horrific and shameful threat changed my life.  It had never occurred to me before that I had any such thing to fear from them or anyone else. We were so modest at our house that we didn’t even refer to our private parts or answer from the outhouse.  Thankfully, they had accosted me in a public place.  I could hear their vicious laughter as I fled.  My shame overwhelmed me.  I obsessed over it but would have never told Mama, feeling I had somehow deserved it.  I was quiet the rest of the day at home, dreading another such attack tomorrow.

The next day and every day thereafter, I gave them a wide berth, taking care never to get caught alone anywhere.  I felt like prey, about to be run down any time.  Coming in from school one afternoon, I got a biscuit and glass of milk as always, along with Mama’s usual admonition to change out of my school clothes and hang up my dress before I went out to play.  Mama was having coffee with Miz Reagan when I came back through.  “Oh did you hear the terrible news?” asked Miz Reagan.  “Vernell Mullins died today.  Her kidneys just shut down and she died!  They thought she just had the flu……a young person like her.  Isn’t that just the saddest thing?”

I was ecstatic!  After the fear I’d been living with the past couple of weeks, news of Vernell’s death was a blessed relief.  Then and there, I started praying for Jessie’s death, watching her hopefully for signs of developing illness over the next few days.  Even eighty years later, knowing Vernell’s death was not a judgment from God, in one little six-year-old corner of my heart, I can still remember the macabre joy with which I received the news.

Excerpt from Kathleen’s 1940’s Memoir

Though I was raised during the depression, with parents who farmed and probably never had more than a few dollars in their possession at one time, I never did without. My mother, Lizzie’s canned goods were stacked up high against the bedrooms walls. She sewed everything our family wore except overalls and pants. My father, Roscoe repaired Continue reading →