Part XV

Dr. Hall started his research and life went on. Nights had become even more unpredictable for me. I had no idea if I was facing a terrifying nightmare or a sleepwalking episode that may put me in real danger. I was exhausted, trying to find new ways to cope while everything else around me started going downhill.

I was getting used to riding our horse that somehow had been named Snuffy. I have no idea where the name came from. He didn't look like a "Snuffy" to me. I had hoped for a more sophisticated name, but he was gentle, had a sweet disposition and was accustomed to children. I don't remember any of my sisters being interested in riding, though they may have been. Curley had found the perfect horse.

Trouble was in his pasture and wasn't as much of a pain as I thought he would be. I actually felt sorry for him. His entire life consisted of eating, drinking, standing around and relieving himself. I started sitting on the fence talking to Trouble after i'd spend quite a while with Snuffy. He always seemed bored but occasionally looked up at me with his huge brown eyes. Sometimes I talked to him without looking because he ate alfalfa and it was green, foamy and nasty looking. He seemed content, but I still felt sad for him. I was sure he must be lonely. Hewas a big ugly cow with no friends.

Dad was on the road a lot more now. He was gone much more than he was home, so I was comforted by the fact Mom had a lot of friends and family close by. She also became very involved in our school functions and joined a women's bowling team that met once a week. She had volunteered for just about anything that came up at our school. It wasn't long before everyone knew if they needed parental help with a field trip, a bake sale, or a fundraiser, they could call Vivian. Tara was still at home but Mom found time to assist with Cindy's, Rosanne's and my class activities.

We went to a private Catholic school "Saint Catherine's By The Sea" in Ventura about twenty minutes from our house (forty-five minutes by school bus). Our school was a huge two story brick building that I found depressing and spooky. Every floor in the entire school was dark hardwood and every classroom was as bland as the other. The only "decor" I recall were the massive chalkboards and heavy wooden desks with attached chairs. All of the schoolteachers were Catholic nuns that wore garments as grim as the school.

The nuns wore black habits from head to ankle, heavy black ankle boots and a cross around their necks. Those boots on the hardwood sounded scary, but they did serve one good function. They let you know to be very quiet because "Sister Mary Someone" was coming. All of the nuns names began with "Sister Mary". We had Sister Mary Ruth, Sister Mary Jane... you get the idea.

The band around their veils and the heavily starched "bib" on their habits were white. An oversized rosary was worn around their waist as a belt, and every one of them wore a plain gold wedding band. I found that very strange especially when I found out that it symbolized "being married to Christ". Mom had gone to a similar school when she was growing up so she was familiar with this unusual world of ours, but it was all foreign to us. Mass was in Latin at the time and very boring, but with Mama there it wasn't too bad. Being on our own at school was a different story.

Having a very small school had its advantages because two classes were combined. Rosanne and I were in the same classroom from first to fifth grade. I was grateful for that and felt comforted having her in the room with me.

Home was a welcome relief after the long bus ride before and after classes. At home we had fun things to do, but it was lonesome when Daddy wasn't there. Looking back now, I feel sure Mom kept herself busy so the time would pass more quickly. I was uncomfortable with change and too many things were changing.

Eula had recently announced that she was going to be leaving us! I remember that day very well. I could tell Mama had just found out, because her nose and eyes were still red from crying. Eula was an angel that had been with us for a long time. I recall all of us crying and I even promised I would act better if she'd stay. She told us we were her babies, but she was in love and marrying a very nice man. Well, that was just not going to work! I remember thinking what a dumb idea. I blurted out, "EULA! You can't get married! You're too old! You have to stay with us!" I'm sure I hurt her feelings, but we couldn't lose her. I thought she was very old, so she had no business getting married. I demanded to know the name of this man that was taking her away. When she answered by calling him Mr. something I knew they couldn't be in love. If she had called him by his first name then maybe it would work, but calling him Mr. confirmed the fact that she didn't even know him.

I tried every argument I could come up with. I asked her how old she was which made Mama get on to me for being rude, but I couldn't help it. I had to save us from losing Eula. When she answered that she was fifty three, I knew I had a good argument. "Eula, you're too old to marry. You'll die soon! Won't you miss us?!" Mom got upset with me. "Kathy, you apologize to her right now. She's happy and we want her to be happy! We will miss her very much but we'll be okay. Now you apologize this second!" Sweet Eula bent down and wasn't mad at all. She had started to cry and said of course she would miss us, but she wanted to be married and live with this man. She loved him very much. I knew I had lost this argument. I hugged her for the longest time. She told me it would be a while before she left, but that didn't make me feel better. I had a hard time picturing our house without her.

Daddy had been gone for a very long time so I kept asking Mom when he was coming home. I didn't like asking because it made her sad, but I needed to know. I missed him so much. I walked into his office all the time just to look at his things and smell all the familiar scents. The knotty pine walls, photos, his awards - everything made my heart ache. I wanted him to see me riding Snuffy.

Mama was spending time in front of the picture window again so I knew that was a bad sign. She cooked dinner every night and sat with us at the table, but rarely ate. I felt as though I had lost her a little too because she seemed sad and quiet most of the time. Even though she went through her daily routine, things were not good. I walked into the kitchen many times to find her on the telephone begging Marshall, Dad's bass player, to please ask him to call home. He didn't. Every time the telephone rang, Mama rushed to answer it, but it wasn't him on the other end. Aunt Reba, Aunt Sylvia and Grandma were supportive, but they didn't know where he was. All they could do was try to cheer Mama up and spend time with her.

I may be wrong, but I believe it was almost an entire year before Daddy came home. Our birthdays came and went, Mom's birthday, their anniversary, even Christmas. Occasionally we'd get a letter or postcard from Daddy telling us how busy he was, but all that did was make me mad. How could he be so busy that he would forget our birthdays? On their anniversary, I recall Mama standing at the window all day long smoking, drinking coffee and crying. As I walked down the hall and came to the foyer, I saw Eula hand Mama a little violet in a pot and a card. I stepped back into the hall to hear what they were saying as Eula hugged her and said, "I know it's your anniversary. I'm sure you'll hear from him soon." Mama seemed to collapse in her arms and sobbed like her heart was breaking. She thanked her for the gifts as she struggled to get her breath. Eula held her for what seemed to be a very long time.

I went back to my room and begged God to make Daddy come home. I was so mad at him, I turned his photo face down and threw my treasure box with his letters across the room. I closed my door and laid on my bed sobbing until my head hurt. My imagination went through every possible scenario. What if Daddy was dead and no one knew how to call us? What if he had an accident and couldn't call? Something had to be seriously wrong for him to be gone so long. Something bad must have happened to him. My anger turned to worry and panic but I couldn't go to Mom about it. That would make her worry more.

I remember talking to Rosanne about it, but she said she thought Daddy was fine. He just didn't want to come home. I knew she must be wrong, but my older sister always seemed to know things and was usually right. "Why would he be fine and not come home or call Mama and us?" I remember following her demanding a better answer. She whirled around and said something to the effect of "Maybe he doesn't love us anymore", or some phrase that put doubt in my head and made me think that had to be the answer. I felt as though I had been slapped. Can that really happen? A Daddy just quits loving you, and only a Mama loves you forever? Rosanne was angry so I left her alone. I felt completely shattered and confused.

To make matters worse, night time was becoming scary for all of us. Daddy's fame had brought many hopeful songwriters right to our front door. Several times a week men would show up with hopes of meeting "Johnny" and giving him a "hit song" they wrote. We'd be jarred awake by men banging on the front door demanding to see "Johnny". Mom's response that he wasn't there was always through the locked door, but she never seemed to convince them. It was obvious they had been drinking and thought it was a good idea to show up at our house all hours of the night. Mama would yell through the door to leave or she'd call the police and many times she had to make that call. Johnny Cash's house became a regular patrol for the police department.

All of the bedrooms were at one end of the house down the hall, so now that hall door was locked every night when bedtime came. I found out later that Mom hardly slept. She was using her bedroom window instead of the living room window to ensure our safety. Gretchen spent many nights barking to alert us of cars coming up the drive. I was getting angrier all the time that Dad had left us afraid and alone on the top of this hill.

Many times we'd be outside playing and find liquor bottles, beer bottles and cigarette butts all over the front lawn. Mom was becoming more nervous all the time. It seemed like she never slept anymore, and it was beginning to show. Her small frame was shrinking and she seemed to be going through the motions of the day. She wasn't as active at school lately, and I could tell when she'd pick us up at the bus stop that she had either been crying, sleeping or both.

Our uniforms were still being ironed and our saddle shoes polished every night but Mom was doing it more like a ritual. She didn't hum like she used to. We also had to line up after our baths so she could put our hair in little pink sponge rollers before bed. Sleeping in those rollers was one more thing keeping me from resting. If it wasn't some drunk at the front door and a nightmare, it was trying to find a comfortable way to lay my head on the pillow without a roller jabbing my head. I was tired.

I wasn't visiting Trouble and Snuffy very often, I rarely played with Gretchen and even stopped feeding Billy. I did talk to Jethro because it required little effort. He was conveniently in the house, and had something to say any time you entered the room. Television was becoming a bigger part of my life now. Jethro had learned a new phrase from my confiding in him. "Where's Daddy, Jethro? Where's Daddy?" I was horrified but every time I tried to make him hush, he'd get louder. Perfect. Now Mama would have a constant verbal reminder that Daddy was missing and no one knew where he was. I remember hearing Mama on the telephone many times saying, "I know you know where he is! Just tell me or have him call home. Please!" Looking back now, I think I was spending a lot more time in the house for several reasons. Not only was I tired but I could make sure Mom was okay and if Daddy called, I would know it.

My visits to the Lewis' house and my Grandparents had become less frequent. I kept thinking that if I stayed home, Daddy would show up. Grandma called every day to talk to Mom, so on top of all my other feelings, I had guilt for ignoring them. Aunt Reba and Aunt Sylvia either called or visited often, but I wasn't in a mood to play with anyone. Occasionally my cousins could coax me to do something, and it was a welcomed distraction from reality.

Every night, Mom listened to records after we went to bed while she was ironing and doing her nightly routine, but the music she was playing now was different. From my room I could faintly hear Ray Charles singing, "I Can't Stop Loving You" and "Take These Chains From My Heart". Marty Robbins was one of her favorites so he reminded her "Don't Worry." These songs played so often I knew them all by heart. I noticed Daddy's records were barely listened to anymore. It was a relief. Even though I would give anything to hear his voice, I felt too sad when I heard him singing.

Easter came and I realized I had done very little around the house other than dragging myself around. My grades had gone downhill and I didn't even care. My teacher showed her disappointment, but I didn't care about that either. I was glad to have time away from there and I didn't have to talk to any of them or deal with it. Our playhouse was rarely used now, and poor Gretchen was hardly visited. Billy hadn't been tied up for a long while, so I told myself since they had each other, I didn't need to worry about playing with them. Mama had taken on feeding the animals so when I realized it, I felt bad for her. No wonder she was so skinny. She worked hard all the time. Eula would be leaving us soon too because she was talking about her wedding more and it was getting close.

I made up my mind to start helping Mom more. I felt sad about Snuffy and Trouble, so I started going down to brush the horse and visit the cow. I told them everything. I made sure the trough was always filled with water and took them hay and alfalfa by handfuls. I had tried the shovel and realized it was much too heavy. It was a slow process but I welcomed it. Rosanne and I started exploring our surroundings a little more, and even talked Mom into letting us walk down the long drive to the only store in Casitas Springs, if you could call it a store. It was actually the United States Post Office, but a tiny section off the side of it was a mini market. The only thing they carried was candy, a few snacks and soft drinks. Walking helped us feel better, and any change was welcomed.

As you entered our miniature town, a green sign on each end of Nye Road said, "Casitas Springs, pop. 303". I remember asking what "pop" was and found out that's how many people lived there. The post office had one small wall of little boxes at one end that held people's mail. Our box was one of the biggest ones and had "44" on it. When Rosanne and I went, we always took $0.50 each. That way we could buy 25 pieces of gum or candy and a drink for the long uphill walk home. When you looked straight up from the outside of the post office/store, you could see our house sitting alone on the side of the hill. Over to the right of the house was the long winding driveway. There were 4 or 5 small houses on the right of our driveway for the first flat section and then it climbed uphill all the way.

Every time we came out of the store and looked up at our house, we could see a tiny speck which was Mama standing at the fence watching us. She had always said, "Go right there and come straight home", so I assumed that's what she was doing. We were also instructed not to talk to strangers, but we rarely saw any strangers in that town. After living there for years, we recognized everyone.

One person we talked to, other than the postal worker and candy clerk, was a little boy about our age named Bruce White. Bruce was the only kid that was actually nice to us in the whole town. Mama said some of the children were probably jealous of us, but that didn't make me feel better when we'd run into them and they'd call us names. Bruce would make the other kids stop the harassment and he'd walk to the first cattle guard with us. We always gave him a piece or two of our candy, and that made him happy. I got the feeling he didn't get to buy candy much, so I was glad he was friendly.

One day I remember hearing Daddy's voice in my sleep. Maybe I dreamed it. I turned over and made myself wake up. "It is him, he's really here!", I thought. I jumped out of bed and ran as fast as I could down the hall and into the den. The den was always a little dark because it was on the back side of the house. Dad was on the brown leather sofa and looked sleepy but I jumped on him anyway. "Daddy! What happened, where were you? I thought you were lost, or sick, or..." My voice trailed off. I studied his face when I realized he wasn't hugging me back. My heart sank when I saw what a mess he was.

Dad was thinner than I had ever seen him. He had wrinkles all over his face and his eyes looked different. I had seen him tired before but this was different. I remember thinking, "Daddy is dirty". His clothes were wrinkled and his hair wasn't combed. That shocked me the most. He had always been clean and smelled like soap. I had a feeling my fear of him being very sick was true and wondered if he needed to go to the doctor. "Daddy, are you sick? Do you need to see the doctor?" Mom was sitting in a chair opposite the couch. I couldn't tell if she was mad or sad. "Daddy has been to doctors. Why don't you brush your teeth? He's going to take a nap."

I couldn't believe it. Mom knew how much we missed him and how long we had waited for him. "I don't want to! I want to stay here with Daddy. Daddy! Tell me where you went!" I surprised myself by yelling at both of them. I expected to get in trouble but didn't get a response at all. That was a bad sign and I had no idea what it meant.

I don't remember much else about what time of year it was or how long he was home. I know the master bedroom door was shut while he slept and we had to be quieter than usual around the house. It seems like that went on for a few days. Mom seemed relieved in one way but there was no sign of happiness or laughter. I waited a long time to show Daddy how I rode Snuffy, but when I did, he didn't act interested. I felt worse than ever and spent a lot of time outside alone.

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