Chapter Two: The Letter

To understand my parents, I guess you would have to understand where we came from. My parents were married really young. He was eighteen and she was seventeen. It seems so young to me, after all Jess is already eighteen and I know that he is no way ready for marriage. But I guess things were different in those days, especially when you did something as scandalous as getting pregnant out of wedlock. Yep! That’s what happened with my parents, Jess was conceived before they were married. I did the math once. It was exactly eight months after they were hitched that he was born, so I guess they were already engaged if that makes a difference at all. Jess was born in the spring of 1939. I know from my momma’s stories that they didn’t have a lot then, but they were very happy. Two years later they had me. I was born in July of 1941, a few months before the US declared war on Germany. My daddy was drafted shortly after that so I was almost four years old before I saw anything but his picture. I wasn’t even frightened of him though. I ran to him with my arms open wide; it was as if I knew that I was his girl.

We lived in a little house right near Main Street in town. We went to the public school there, much to my grandma’s horror. She felt that we were neglecting our Catholic roots by going to public school and dad felt that we were just escaping the really strict nuns that he always talked about. It was a constant argument between daddy and Grandma Lucy, but it wasn’t the only one. I don’t think Grandma ever really got over daddy marrying her only girl and the fact that Momma was already expecting at the time broke her heart.

We were so happy in our little house there. Daddy worked in the offices of the local bank. He was an accountant or something like that. He didn’t make a lot of money. He was always grumbling about some imagined expense, but he was at least good-natured about it.

It all changed the year that I was ten and Jess was eleven. Momma was pregnant again and she seemed happy. I know that Jess and I were looking forward to having a baby in the house. We were getting ready, helping momma paint the nursery and getting the old baby things out of storage. But then in an instant everything was different. One day some men came to see Momma. I don’t know what they talked about cause it was kept away from us. We were sent outside to play while the grown-ups talked in the kitchen. I remember that I didn’t like those men. They wore dark suits and shiny black shoes. They carried little notebooks with them and they wrote lots of things down in there. They were shifty-eyed, like they were suspicious of everyone and everything. They left soon enough and Momma went up to her room and just lay there. She tried to hide it from us but we knew she was crying. We kept asking her what was wrong but she wouldn’t tell us. She kind of just stayed on the bed, curled up in a ball, rocking a little with her hand on her belly. Jess and I were scared. We didn’t know where daddy was, so we called Grandma who came over as soon as she could.

Grandma Lucy was great to us that day, and I’m glad of it because that was the last time I would see her for a very long while, so those memories of her had to last. I would cling to them sometimes when I was frightened or alone. She rambled about the kitchen making sandwiches and soup for us. She kept muttering things though. It was as if she was talking to herself in search of an answer that just wouldn’t come. She kept talking about Momma and the poor babe. She was saying something about knowing that that man was no good from the start. I asked her who she was talking about but she just gave me a tray of cookies and lemonade and sent me out to the front porch, then she took care of Momma.

Daddy came home late that night. He smelled of cigarette smoke and another scent that I didn’t recognize. Many years later, upon stumbling on an empty bottle, I would learn that the smell was Scotch, but daddy rarely drank so I didn’t recognize it then. We were sent to bed as soon as he came home. Momma came out of her room then. I saw her as I left the bathroom that night. She looked done-in, tired and remarkably older than her twenty-eight years. She and daddy stayed up all night and talked. Sometimes they were quiet and sometimes their voices were frightfully loud. This was a new sound in our house. They never argued before. We were kept home from school for the rest of the week; in fact, we were not even allowed to venture past our own yard. That Friday, we got into daddy’s truck and we left our cozy little home. We moved out to the farm and that was where we stayed.

Steven was born in the house not long after that. Momma didn’t seem the same then. She rarely smiled. Well, I can’t say that. She smiled on occasion, but it never reached her eyes. She didn’t take to the baby the way that we did, and I could never understand that. Steven would cry for hours, and Momma never went to him. Poppa was always too tired or too busy to see to him and so Jess and I took turns making him bottles and changing his diapers. He grew up happy and remarkably content in spite of them. You could tell that all was not right though. Whenever he got hurt or was frightened, he never called out for anyone but his Jessie and Sissy. I can’t say that they never made a fuss over him. Momma always made him a cake on his birthday or was giving him some other sweet when there was no occasion at all and daddy was forever carving him some new toy. But all that they gave him could never make up for the love that they didn’t. It was as if in some strange way, they blamed all of their troubles on him. Or maybe he was just the pinnacle of their problems. He was born so soon after we moved that he might have seemed like a symbol to them, an emblem of whatever went wrong that day. I gave up trying to figure out why they were like that a long time ago and Steven never seemed to question it. He accepted it as if that was his cross to bear in life and I think their emotional neglect of him gave him the wisdom and strength that made him seem wise beyond his years.

Momma home-schooled us until we were old enough to go to high school and we did that in a neighboring town. Daddy was actually good at farming, much to everyone’s surprise. And no one ever talked about the day we left town, ever. Jess and I could only speculate about it or listen to the rumors that would occasionally come our way in school. Our friends never said anything about it if they knew at all. Sometimes you would hear their parents talk in hushed whispers when we were around. Some ladies meaning to be kind I suppose would ask after us “poor dears” or ask how our “poor momma” was doing. I usually wanted to throttle them when they spoke that way, but I maintained my lady-like decorum and answered a polite “yes”, “no,” or “fine thank you” to their questions. Jess just walked away or on occasion told them that they were “old biddies” and to “mind their own business.” I reproached him when he said things like that. I knew that Momma and Poppa for all of their faults wanted us to be respectful to our elders, but I secretly wished I had the gumption to say to them just what Jess did.

So, that brings us up to that eventful day I suppose. Now you know why it was that momma was never happy and why we should not have been surprised when she left us. But we were. Our house seemed empty without her there. There was no trace of her. She packed up everything, all of her clothes, all of her jewelry, everything. The only thing that she left behind was a note. It was kind of strange, the note started out of kind of faint and scratchy as if she was afraid or unsure, but the last words were bold and clear as if she was doing the right thing. I guess that’s pretty much how she felt. It read:

My dear ones:

I find that the time has come for me to leave you. I can’t stay here any longer. I am not myself anymore; in fact, I have forgotten how to be me. You will all get along better without me, I’m sure. Jess, you are almost an adult now, take care of your sister and your brother. You are strong and capable and will make a fine man. I trust you with their care. Watch out for them and make sure that no one hurts them. Lucinda, you are a beautiful young lady. You are smart and capable of accomplishing great things. Don’t let anyone stand in the way of that. Steven, I may not have always shown it, but momma loves you very much. You will always be my baby. Listen to your Jessie and Sissy, they will look out for you. Remember that I love you all very much. I loved your father too, too much, I think. I’m going west, to friends of mine in California. I will write to you when I am settled and you can all come see me some day soon, perhaps come to live with me there once I get my head together. Take care of yourselves.

Always,

Momma

So that was how Momma left us, there was nothing else save her wedding ring and Daddy gave that to me. I wore it around my neck on a chain all that summer.

We grew up then because we had to. Daddy seemed more incapable of dealing with the loss then anyone. He found comfort in the bottom of a bottle. He let the farm go and Jess tried to revive it as much as I tried to become the perfect housewife. We were just kids though, doing nothing more then playing at house, and like all games when you’re kids, it gets tiring really fast. Jess was angry. He wanted to be out with his friends. He was going into his senior year in high school and farming was the last thing he had on his mind. I couldn’t cope with all of the housework and taking care of Stevie and Daddy too. I went to bed most nights filled with exhaustion and crying myself to sleep. I knew that I could not carry on much longer and I had to do something before we all cracked up like Momma did. I did the only thing reasonable I could. I made a phone call. I didn’t know if the call would go through. If the number had changed, I wouldn’t have known it. If she was even there it would be a miracle, but I had to try.

Remarkably, Grandma Lucinda answered the phone very quickly, although it seemed an eternity to me. I kept my voice in a whisper, as I didn’t want Daddy to know what I was doing. He was sleeping when I called her, I checked first. It was not that he was a mean drunk. He seemed really sorry that he had struck Stevie that day, but we still tiptoed around him, afraid now of what he could become.

“Grandma?” I asked hesitantly.

“What? Who is this? Speak up please!”

“Grandma, I can’t speak up, it’s me Lucinda.”

“Yes, this is Lucinda. Who is this?”

I groaned inwardly at this point … was Grandma too feeble to help us? I spoke a little louder. “Grandma, it’s me … Lucinda.”

The silence on the other end of the phone was deafening.

“Lucinda? Is it really you child?”

“Yes, Grandma,” I said with a sigh of relief, “It’s me. We need you Grandma, we need your help.”

Grandma hesitated to answer me, “What is it child? Does your mother know you are calling me?”

“She’s gone, Granny. She left last month for California. We’ve been trying to hold things together but Daddy is not feeling well now and we can’t cope. Jess would never admit it, but we need help.” I didn’t want to tell her about daddy’s new habit. I was afraid to lay all of our problems on her at once, at least not until I knew where we stood. Grandma startled me when she let out a sob that she had tried to restrain.

“Are you okay Grandma?”

“I’m fine dear. It’s just; I can’t believe she left without saying goodbye.”

“I think she was ashamed to be leaving and she was probably afraid if she stuck around too long she would never get the courage to leave,” I said, voicing my own answers to the questions I had asked so many times. It was the first time I had said that aloud and it felt better in some small way.

“You said your daddy is sick, child. Is he really sick or just missing your momma or is there some other illness that might explain it, something that might be found in the empty comfort of alcohol?” Grandma asked, and it was the first inkling I had that the old lady’s wits were indeed still about her. In fact, she was as sharp as a tack.

“He … uh …” I hesitated, not wanting to betray my daddy but knowing that I could not disguise those bloodshot eyes or the countless empty bottles that piled up around his office. I was never allowed in there, not even to clean it. “He’s drinking Granny, everyday, all day.”

“That’s what I thought, child. Aw, you poor children. All right, pack up your suitcases, you and Jess, and I’ll come get you in the morning. Then we’ll see about finding some help for your daddy. Right now, though, it’s not a safe place for you to be.”

“But Grammy….”

“Yes dear? Come on don’t dawdle.”

“What about Stevie?” I didn’t actually think Grandma didn’t mean for us to bring him, but I don’t think I could have borne the thought of another person blaming him or not loving him as I did right at that moment.

“Who is Stevie? A pet of yours or something?”

“No Grammy! Stevie is our brother; he’s six. You remember, Momma was having him when we left town.” Good gracious! If she had forgotten that maybe she was getting senile.

“What? You mean that child survived? I tried to get in contact with your mother after you all left, but your father would have none of it. He told me that the child didn’t make it. Oh, I’m so happy that I have another grandchild. Oh, I can’t wait to see you all. Pack up all your suitcases, honey. You’re coming with me tomorrow!”

“All right Grammy. I have to go now, before Daddy wakes up. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

I hung up the phone feeling one hundred percent better. I didn’t know how Daddy or the boys would take it but I felt I had done the right thing. I waited until late that night after Daddy had passed out again to tell them. I knocked on Jess’ door and brought him and Stevie to my room.

“What’s up Cinder?” asked Jess, feeling all of the tension of the situation at hand and looking every bit the haggard boy that I knew him to be.

“You need to pack. I called Grammy today and asked for her help.”

“We have a Grammy?” asked Steven with an air of hurt about him as if we had deliberately kept the greatest and most treasured secret on earth from him.

“You did what?” Jess shouted.

“Shhhh! You’ll wake daddy. I called her Jess. I told her what was going on. We can’t do this. This house is no place for any of us to be until daddy gets sober again. Stevie is afraid of him and he’s too much for me to take care of. This farm is too big for you to handle anyway. You should be out having fun, not stuck around here looking out for us.”

I was prepared for Jess to be angry, but not for the hurt that I saw on his face.

“But, taking care of you, of this farm, that’s my job. That’s what Momma asked me to do. I have to stay here Lucinda. What would daddy do without us? Who’s going to take care of him? We can’t go.”

“Be reasonable Jess. Daddy isn’t going to get help until he is ready to accept it. He can’t take care of us if he’s drunk all the time. Momma asked you to look out for us, all of us, yourself included. This is what she would want us to do, Jess. Let’s let the grownups take care of us for a change. I’m tired of cleaning up their messes!”

“Alright, Sissy, alright. I guess we’ll go then,” Jess said, borrowing Steve’s nickname for me for a moment, “Grammy is such a nice old lady anyway. You’re gonna love her Stevie. I’m just not sure what daddy will have to say about all of this.”

“I don’t know either Jess, but right now, I don’t care anymore. I just want to be somewhere that I can be myself again, where you can relax and not worry so much and where Stevie can play like a normal kid instead of tiptoeing around all the time.”

So we went to our rooms to pack our belongings in whatever suitcase or bags we could find. I helped Stevie pack as many toys as he could take and then we went to bed. We all slept a little easier that night, knowing that tomorrow was going to be better for all of us.