Part VIII

I was so afraid that Grandma and Grandpa wouldn't want me to spend the night again after that episode, but I should have known better. (I was a first class worrier.) I spent so much time at their house, I remember Mama asking me if I was unhappy at home. It wasn't that at all, I liked having my Grandparents to myself and loved all the things there was to do at their house.

I explored the orchards and took walks with Grandpa collecting fruit from the trees. Grandma was teaching me how to peel and quarter apples, I got to use her dough roller and roll the crust for pies, we hung laundry out on the line, I learned how to sew a button on a shirt. I helped Grandpa collect rent, play horseshoes, hopscotch, and had so many fun things to do there.

The only thing I didn't like about staying the night was they wouldn't leave a light on when we went to bed. Grandpa said "burning lights when you're sleeping was wasting money." I even liked the railroad tracks that were a little too close to the house. There was something strangely comforting about the sound of that train squealing by during the night.

It seemed like time was passing much too quickly. I remember the day Mama told me I had to start staying home more because we had to shop for school supplies and have an earlier bedtime so we'd get on "a schedule" for school. I had been having so much fun that I had almost forgotten "the plan." Now it was urgent that I find alone time with Daddy.

Daddy spent a lot of time in his office writing on long yellow pads of paper and "picking his guitar." I found a good time to quietly knock on his door, and when he answered, "come in," I quickly pulled the door behind me. I just stood there, taking a deep breath trying to figure out how to tell him. Daddy gave me his full attention and said, "Hi, Baby, everything okay?" I just stood there looking at my feet. "Baby, is something wrong?" I didn't know where to start, so I stammered and then it felt hard to swallow. I was trying desperately not to cry, but I couldn't seem to stop it.

Tears started to flow, and I saw Daddy squirm a little. He hated to see us cry, so he immediately came to my rescue and told me, "Tell Daddy, what is it Honey?" I blurted out why I shouldn't go to school and pleaded for him to "talk Mama out of it." I had every reason in the world pop out of my mouth on why it was such a bad idea, and finished with "and I'm scared! PLEASE don't make me go!"

I was relieved that Daddy didn't laugh at me like Grandma had, so I thought he would say he'd talk to Mama. Instead, he started telling me why school was important and mentioned all the same reasons Mama and Grandma had that I needed to go. My heart sank. He was my last chance. Now my hope was shattered.

I tried to talk to Rosanne about it but she was excited and thought I was acting like a baby. She would be no help at all. I was doomed. Time went much too fast, and before I knew it, I was wearing a uniform and walking into a strange room filled with other five year olds and a nun for a teacher. My room was called "Kindergarten."

My older sister had given me very stern orders to NEVER call her "Bawe" again, and informed me that her name was "ROSANNE." That was unbelievable! I couldn't believe it, but she was not only on their side, she was also making new rules for me!

Mama drove us to school the first few days and walked me into my room, but also told us that we'd start riding the school bus soon. When we got to school and I saw all these yellow buses lined up, I was petrified. How would I know which bus Rosanne would be on? Why couldn't I just color pictures at home instead of having to go to a school to do it? Why did my teacher make such a big deal about "staying in the lines?" Mama let us color without making a big deal out of staying in lines. This whole idea was dumb, and I hated it.

Looking back now, I'm sure I wore Mama out for the first couple of months of school. I tried everything, EVERYDAY.

If it rained, I hid my raincoat and rubber boots in my toy box. Somehow, Mama knew right where to look, so that didn't work. I tried making myself throw up, I cried, I tried every trick in the book. It had to be exhausting for her and I was barely getting any sleep due to the terrors and staying awake trying to come up with a new trick to sabatage going to school.

All the scheming changed one day when a little girl named Nancy Mahan walked up to me and offered to share her black crayon. (Every picture we colored had to be lined in black crayon, and I had just broken mine by pressing too hard.) Maybe this wouldn't be such a bad place after all...

Nancy was my saving grace.

She was brave and didn't think I was being a baby. She didn't make fun of me and soon became my best friend. We were inseparable and she taught me the secrets about school. Soon I acquired another friend named Kimberly. Recess was my favorite "class" of course, because the three of us were always together. I had friends that weren't cousins, and that was great because I didn't have to share them with my sisters.

Nancy went home in her Mama's car, but Kimberly went home on my bus! Now Rosanne didn't have to be mad at me for always wanting to sit with her and her friends. I had my very own friends and sat with Kimberly on the bus all the way home. I could tell Mama was happy, so life was much better than I thought it would be. Mama seemed happy about me liking school, but she wasn't as happy at home as she usually was.

Kindergarden went by fast, and I loved school now. School was a nice break from home, because things weren't so happy there anymore. Soon after we started school, Mama and Daddy had a lady named Eula move into the "maid's quarters." We loved her, and she wasn't scary at all. Eula helped Mama a lot, and after the dinner dishes were washed, Eula woud get her purse and disappear out the door until the next morning. I was glad she was there, because Daddy was gone so much more now and Mama wouldn't be so lonely.

I worried about Mama when she was alone. She didn't eat much anymore, and drank a lot of coffee, while she smoked a lot of cigarettes. For some reason, she stood in the big window in the living room just staring straight out looking at nothing. I remember standing in the foyer where she didn't seem to notice me, watching her in the dark studying her silhouette. Her shadow was a lot different than it had been because she was going to have a baby. Her tiny body looked the same except for a big tummy that looked like it didn't belong on her. She cried a lot now. When I'd ask her what was wrong, she always said something about "being tired or missing Daddy." I didn't believe her, but I knew she didn't lie so all I knew to do was ask Grandma or Eula.

Daddy didn't call us as much as he did before when he was gone, so I thought he was mad at us or was starting to forget about us. When he did come home, he didn't act as happy as he used to. He always said he was tired, but then he wouldn't go to sleep. He was acting different, and I didn't like the way he acted. He wasn't hugging and kissing Mama or us like he used to. He quit bringing us presents, and if I asked about the "present suitcase," he wasn't mean, but he wasn't nice either. He'd say something like, "Daddy is working, and I didn't have time to shop." My heart sank. He used to tell us that he "almost missed a plane shopping at the airport if he didn't get to shop in the place he was working."

I thought Mama would be happy when she finally got to stop looking out the window for him, but she just seemed tired and sad and she cried a lot. I hated seeing her cry. Eula said she cried more because "being pregnant makes you feel more." I noticed Eula hugging Mama more and now when Mama talked on the telephone, she usually whispered or talked low.

I had a sinking feeling, and something told me that Mama and Daddy weren't getting along well at all.

Be Sociable, Share!

• 

• Tweet