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Overview
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781982204709 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Balboa Press |
| Publication date: | 08/03/2018 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 352 |
| File size: | 448 KB |
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CHAPTER 1
A Childhood of Death and Dying
Childhood innocence is a gift that, if nurtured, bestows wings to fly through the uncertainty of life to create a world that is uniquely ours.
I am a Pollyanna. At ten years of age, I do not see that my parents' marriage is struggling until Daddy is leaving the house with his suitcase. Mommy tells me everything will work out fine; but for the first time in my life, I do not believe her. I know my life is changing. I do not cry. I am not a baby anymore. I am too old for crying. Mommy puts her arms around me and promises that she will protect me ... and I believe her.
Mommy gets custody of me, and Daddy gets me on the weekends. Mommy works in the factory where she has met a guy who is already changing my life. Within a year, they marry. Within another six months, Mommy has started drinking by ten o'clock in the morning. I resent the fact that Mommy moved this man into my daddy's house. We live in a small village in Ohio, and this man is an outsider. How could she do this to me? Already, he is taking over. They both work the night shift, so I do not have to be with him most of the time.
I am in the third grade. Therefore, I have to have a babysitter. She only lives two blocks from my house and rides the same school bus that I do; consequently, I am never alone. I do love school. Since I am a "change-of-life" child, my only sister Evelyn is much older and has already married. I think of myself as an only child ... a lonely, only child.
Tomorrow will be Saturday, and my father will pick me up for the weekend. I know I can talk him into taking me roller skating. That has become our special thing to do together. He bought me my own skates because he says that those rental skates are not good for my feet. Mommy says that it is a waste of money because my feet are going to grow. Daddy just laughs at her. He reminds her that I am the smallest girl in the class. Daddy and Mommy are both only five feet two inches tall. He says that I am not going to grow into an Amazon overnight. I do not know what an Amazon is, but I am sure it is something really tall.
Daddy buys me everything I need to be a real skater. He says that I need to start young if I want to be a beautiful skater. Since I am seven years old, this is a perfect age.
My skates are white, and the metal carrying case is bright red with chrome trim. He says I need the stoppers that fit over the toes of my skates, not the ones that have metal shafts that go down to the floor. Those are for racers, and I will be a dancer. I need to learn to stop by placing my right foot behind my left foot and not use a stopper at all. He even buys me black and white fur pompom balls to tie to my shoelaces.
Mommy makes me a shiny, satin skating skirt. It is black on one side and red on the other. It is reversible which Mommy likes, but I love that the red shows when I do spins. Daddy has already taught me to do spins with the rented skates, and he says that I will be even more graceful with my own skates. I love Daddy.
Since Mommy works the night shift, Gloria my babysitter just sleeps in my sister's old bedroom and is here to help me get ready for school in the morning. We are allowed to have the radio on in the kitchen, as long as we keep the volume down low. But, this morning I do not hear any music. I get dressed and comb my straight, blonde hair, gather up my homework, and head for the kitchen. I hear the tea kettle whistle, so I know Gloria is already in the kitchen. I walk through the living room to the kitchen doorway and am startled to see Mommy sitting at the table with a cigarette and a cup of coffee in her right hand. Does she ever lay that cigarette down?
"Vivienne, sit down. I've something to tell you."
She reaches over to the waiting teacup and pours the boiling water over my tea bag.
"How many pieces of toast do you want?"
"One'll be fine."
The sugar bowl and milk pitcher are already on the table, as is a jar of strawberry jam and some apple butter. She butters my toast, cuts off the four sides of crust, and then makes two diagonal cuts to form four, perfect triangles. She knows that I will not be putting jam or apple butter on my toast. I am what people call "a picky eater."
"Vivienne, I'm selling the house. Your step-father does not like living here, and he wants to build a house of our own. The empty lot next to Evelyn's house is for sale, and we want to buy it. But, I have to sell this house, so that we can have the money for the lot and building supplies. Isn't that exciting!"
I sit there silently.
"You won't have to change schools!"
I am still mute. This is my home. I do not want to live in a house that my stepfather builds. She sent my father away, and now she is going to give away my home. I do not care if I go to the same school. I hate the kids at that school. I only have three friends, and the rest just make fun of me because I do not fit in. I do not like to be hurt and play rough games. I like to read. I like to jump rope. Yesterday, they spun the merry-go-round so fast that I flew off, and all they did was laugh at me. When Johnny saw what happened, he came to my rescue and took me inside to the nurse's office to get the cinders cleaned out of my knees. Kids are mean. If we have to move, why not just change towns? Maybe there, I can make some new friends.
The house sells, and the land is now ours. We will need a place to live while they build the new house. Mommy finds a house to rent in the town where they work so I will be changing schools! Mommy is sad about it, but I am overjoyed. She has no idea what it is like to be teased. I know she would like for me to be more confident and outgoing like my sister Evelyn, but the other kids all think alike. They go to the same church, and their families have lived in this community forever. We moved here when I was a baby. They are all cousins, and I am an outsider.
Daddy is also moving. He works for General Motors, and they are closing the local factory. To keep from losing his job, he has to move over one hundred miles away. I will no longer be seeing him on the weekends, but Mommy promises that I will get a long vacation with him during the summer. My life as I know it is over, but it has not been all that great for the past two years. Maybe, things will get better. All I can do is hope for the best.
* * *
Today is moving day. I hear a truck, so I go to the window and peek outside. Mommy's brother is here. I run out of the house onto the porch.
"Hi, Uncle Joe! You're the first one here!"
"Where's the rest of those lazy sons-a-bitches? They're all probably still in bed."
"Joe, don't talk like that in front of Viv."
"Don't tell me how to talk, or ya can move yerself! Where's the coffee?"
Everyone knows that the coffee pot is always full. Mom has paper plates and a fresh apple pie ready for the boys. Uncle John and my cousins should be here soon.
One by one, the other brothers and cousins arrive.
"Dammit Joe, ya gonna eat that pie all by yerself? Viv, git me some coffee. Put cream'n a little sugar in it."
I hand Uncle John his coffee, and he slips me a quarter. He is my favorite uncle. I think that he is also Mom's favorite brother, as she does not correct his cussing.
"That's a tip, young lady! Someday, ya might be a waitress. Ya git that fer good service."
"She ain't gonna be no waitress!" Mom's temper is starting to rise. "I'm not slavin' away in that God-awful factory just to have my girls end up like me. Evelyn's already a bookkeeper, and Vivienne'll probably be a teacher, the way she loves school."
I find it strange to hear my mommy talking like her brothers. She says that we do not talk like that anymore. We need to use proper English. I hate it when her brothers rile her up to the point that she is sucked back into the old ways without her even realizing it.
"I hope yer right, Mary. These kids today need to finish school. They don't wanna end up like the rest of us. Where's that new husband of yers? Is he gonna he'p?"
Mom's face turns bright red, just like her hair. She was never good at lying, but she does not want her brothers to know that he went fishing early this morning.
"He's working overtime. He'll meet us when he gets off."
Her brothers do not like my stepfather. They say he drinks too much. The truth is they like my daddy. Daddy was one of their buddies before he knew Mommy. During the Depression, they all had been hobos together. Grandma always said that if God had not protected them, those boys would have died jumping off those trains. There was no work in our state, so they hopped freights and went out west to work in the fields. They always take care of their own, and that is why they are here today.
The trucks are as full as an overloaded, hay wagon. Mom and I choose to ride with Uncle John to the new house.
"Damn, Mary! I thought ya said it's a house. It's got a stairway on the side. Is that an upstairs apartment?"
"Yeah, but don't worry. Perry lives there with his new wife."
"That's George's boy, right?" "Yep."
I do not know Perry, but I am glad that we are not sharing a house with a stranger. Family is fine.
Uncle Joe is the next to arrive. Mom meets him at the truck.
"Joe, how's Mom doing?" Uncle Joe still lives at home with Grandma and Grandpa, even though he is almost forty years old. Grandma has cancer.
"Well's expected. Don't know how she's hangin' on. Just skin'n bones. Marie's takin' good care of her."
Mom feels like she should be taking care of Grandma because she has always been Grandma's favorite. Aunt Marie does not work outside of the home; her kids are all old enough to take care of themselves, so she is a natural choice. She is still Grandpa's favorite, so maybe that is actually better. He was sixteen years old when Grandma got pregnant, and they have been married almost fifty years. I am sure he is going to miss her when she is gone.
"Tell Marie, I'll come up and stay next weekend, so she can go home and get her own housework done. I should be all settled by then."
* * *
Grandma's home has always been my magical place. It is where the family goes every weekend. When someone asks "Watcha doin' this weekend?", the reply is "Goin' up home." We do not go to church, we go 'up home.' This is where I listen to my elders argue about the past. Who married who and who were their parents. No one minces words about who had done right or wrong, and why someone's husband was in jail for drinking too much before the fight broke out. Evidently, it is okay to fight as long as you are drunk. That is called justification. I learn more big words being quiet and listening to the family tell tales than I do sitting in a schoolroom. Grandpa calls it "the school of life."
But today, being at Grandma's is different. We kids have to be quiet and play outside or upstairs. All of my aunts and uncles will come up sometime over the weekend. All of the husbands have jobs. Emaline is the only sister that has her own car. Some of the other sisters do not even drive!
"Mary, do I hear a car?"
Grandma still has excellent hearing, even though she cannot get out of bed and has lost most of her sight. Mommy looks out of the living room window.
"Yep, it's Marie. I wonder why she's back so soon? Maybe, they've something to tell us? Pop really needs to get a phone."
Marie parks in the barnyard and Sarah and Emaline are with her. This is a strange combination of sisters. Emaline always drives alone. I know something terrible must have happened for them to all come together, but they have big grins on their faces. What is going on? There is no need for anyone to answer the door, as this is their home. I hear the kitchen screen door slam shut behind them.
"What in the hell is going on, Marie?"
"Ssshhh ... Mary. Do you want Mom to hear you cuss like that?"
Mommy gives them the evil eye, and they just laugh. My family is really good at reading faces. Grandma threatens to tell Grandpa when someone is lying. If the lie is to cover up something that they have done that is wrong, she will tell Grandpa. If we tell her the truth about something we should not have done, she protects us if Grandpa finds out. No one ever lies to Grandma.
He will be the one to set things straight and make sure they do not do it again. It only takes one "talkin' to" from Grandpa to put the fear of God into a person. He would never use his belt on one of us girls, but watching the boys "git theirs" teaches us that we better not do what they did. Grandpa is not big on second chances, but he is all about the apology and promise of never doing the wrong again. He says a "whippin'" is something to remind us when he is not there to keep us out of trouble. Grandpa knows everything about trouble. He is the hellraiser of the family.
Aunt Marie speaks first. This is the pecking order for talking: Marie, Helen, then June.
"We have news for Mom."
Why did they not bring any of my cousins with them? None of this makes any sense. We all go into Grandma's bedroom.
"Did I die?"
Everyone laughs and is encouraged that Grandma still has her sense of humor.
"Not yet, Mom!"
Even Grandma knows that her days are growing shorter until she will be no longer be on this earth. The porch talk is that she is holdin' on to something here on earth. Either that or someone here is not ready to let her go. The time will come when it is time, so no need to try to figure it out. Everyone knows that she will go to heaven, but they are not so sure about Grandpa. He says he does not believe in God. Strange, because he knows he is going to Hell. He says it all the time.
"Well then, who died that it takes four of ya to tell me?"
"Mom, no one died. Lydia had her baby."
Grandma loves babies more than anything in the world. She had eleven of her own, and now this will be her twenty- fourth grandchild. Lydia already has two boys and a girl under five years of age. I cross my fingers and hope that it will be another girl.
"Mom, she's doing fine, and so are the babies. She had twin boys."
"Oh, my gawd." Grandma knows that five children under the age of five are more than most women can handle. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. There is no longer any "hangin' on."
This is the first death that I experience. Mom rushes me out of the room as tears come to her eyes. Grandpa and Joe will be home from the dog races late tonight, so everyone stays until they are back. Arrangements need to be made, and they will have to decide who is doing what. Grandpa is in charge, they know that for sure. I hear through the porch talk that now everyone knows why Grandma refused to die. She was worried about Lydia. She is the daughter who is most like Grandma. She married a hellraiser just like Grandma did. He loves to flirt with danger and is a race car driver.
Grandma already has her burial clothes stored in a box in the dresser. Everyone knows that Mom will do her hair. They will use the same funeral home that the family has used for years. All that really needs to be decided is who will notify the rest of the family. That is the toughest job of all.
The next week is a blur, even for me. I am surprised that the funeral is not at a funeral home, but is at the Quaker Church. I never knew anyone in my family attended church. I thought Grandpa did not believe in God! His father had forbidden his mother, Grandma Jennie, to attend "the white man's church," which should have told me something. I thought that was just more porch talk. Kids have to be careful about deciding what is true, and when adults are just 'pulling our legs.' It is strange how natural it is for people not to ask questions.
I am told that Grandpa's brother defied his father and went to the Quaker Church. Grandpa wanted nothing to do with it, but he did not stop Grandma from going if someone would take her. He already has two graves in the local cemetery. Grandma will be buried like a queen. Money is not an issue. Everything will be perfect.
Dog racing and gambling provide a good income, and Grandpa is a master at both. He has a world champion dog named Truman, and the trophy is almost as tall as I am! I would love to go to the races, but Grandpa does not allow it. He says that is not a proper place for women. There are a bunch of drunks and too much gambling. Grandpa believes in two different worlds: one for men and the other for women. And, he is the head of the Cantrell clan. Everyone knows not to argue with Grandpa. He always sees things as black or white – right or wrong – good or evil. He taught us that it's wrong to judge men by the color of their skin. It is what is in their hearts that matter. There are lots of black folks that have good hearts, and plenty of white men that are just plain evil. I am not sure, but I do not think that he sees women as evil. He says that women know right from wrong, and their most important job is to teach all the young'uns to be good. A good woman can make a bad man walk a straight path when the time comes that he sees he is on the wrong trail.
* * *
When my mother and I visit Grandma's grave the following spring, Grandpa has put up a beautiful granite headstone carved with her nickname, Nellie. The kids wanted her Christian name, Sarah Genella, carved into the granite; but he said that "By God, she lived by Nellie, and she'll die by Nellie."
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Mom Said, "Don't Mess with This Stuff""
by .
Copyright © 2018 Saraigh Emma Belle.
Excerpted by permission of Balboa Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Foreword, ix,
A Childhood of Death and Dying, 1,
Somethings Have No Answers, 29,
Deciding to Live, 47,
Altered State of Awareness, 61,
Scientific Theory of Replication, 71,
Fears Can Come True, 89,
Exploring a New Realm, 113,
Connecting to Spirit, 135,
Accepting My Reality Has Changed, 159,
This Stuff, 177,
Living in a Spiritual World, 203,
Control Over Life?, 221,
Haunted Houses ... Oh, My!!!, 243,
What Happened to Mariah?, 265,
Living a Magical Life, 295,
'Spirit of One", 319,
Endnotes, 337,