Part XVII

Mrs. Fish was the exact opposite of Eula.

Eula was short, pudgy, smiling, cheerful and loving. Mrs. Fish was tall, slender and didn't smile much at all. In fact, I don't remember ever seeing her smile. Looking back now, my guess is she wasn't a very happy woman, but at the time I mistook her stern look for a mean one. I would imagine that walking into a chaotic house of total strangers was probably intimidating, but that had also never crossed my mind. I expected her to be happy to see us. I expected her to be like Eula. This certainly wasn't the case. I remember studying Mrs. Fish, knowing I would never run in and hug her like I always did when i saw Eula.

She was going to have to go, but I had no master plan in the works yet. This would take some serious thought on my part.

I would have to put my plan on the back burner for now, because Daddy announced we were having a big barbecue that we needed to get ready for. He had always wanted to use his barbecue pit upstairs on the plateau for a huge gathering, so the house was buzzing with activity in preparation for the big feast. Both parents loved to cook, but they enlisted Mrs.Fish and Grandma to help with this project, and I'm sure my Aunts helped too.

We were excited. Many musical friends were coming, and several people in the music business, who we didn't know but had heard Mom and Dad talk about, were also invited. The big day came, and cars and a couple of campers started rolling up the driveway in the late afternoon. All my excitement turned to disappointment as I noticed no children were getting out of the vehicles, just grown ups. This wouldn't be as fun as I thought... or would it?

I made my way up the long wooden stairs to the plateau where picnic tables, the big brick pit, and all the adults were milling around. Daddy and Mama were happy and excited to be surrounded by friends and family . I wandered around hugging all the people I knew and studied the ones I didn't. I was introduced to a big man with a cowboy hat named Tex Ritter, a pretty lady named Patsy Cline, and many other people that I had heard of but didn't know. I decided to hang around for a while and visit with the Wooley's, the Lewis's, Grandma and Grandpa, and my Aunts. I was having a great time until someone asked Daddy what he was grilling. I was standing pretty close to him but, being in a sea of adults, he didn't notice. "We're having a billy goat!" I gasped, and Mama noticed me behind Daddy. Her eyes got huge as she tried to get Dad's attention but it was too late. I had heard him and now I knew that Billy was the feast all these people were here for. I yelled out, "YOU'RE COOKING BILLY!!????" It came out more like a scream. Everyone turned to look at me and a hush fell over the plateau. I stared at Daddy, and could feel tears running down my cheeks. "THAT'S BILLY??" I repeated. I recall Patsy Cline standing fairly close to us. She said something to the effect of, "You're in deep shit Johnny." Some of the adults dared to snicker, but I glared at them, then turned my glare back to my parents. Mom started towards me but I took off down the long stairway down, still yelling at them.

When I reached the house, Mrs. Fish was in the kitchen making something. She said something to me, but I ignored her and ran to find my sisters. I had to tell Rosanne and Cindy what was happening. They were as horrified as I was. Mama and Grandma followed closely, but this was not open for discussion. I didn't want to hear any talk about raising your own "food" because it was healthier. I didn't care what reason they had, it wasn't a good one. Billy and Trouble were dead and that was all I needed to know.

I stayed in my room for the rest of the day until I went to bed that night. A few adults I knew came to my room to tell me goodbye or give me a hug, but all I could think of was that they had eaten Billy. It was hard to smile at them. When Daddy and Mom came in, I didn't even look at them. I was mad, and intended to stay that way. I cried myself to sleep thinking about Billy. I was on a permanent no meat diet. No matter what we had for dinner, I would pick the meat out or refuse it.

It seemed like a matter of days later Mama was listening to the radio and crying when I woke up. She told me Patsy Cline had died in a plane crash with a lot of other singers. I felt bad about not spending more time with her at our house that day. For a long time after that, when I thought of Patsy I thought of her saying, "You're in deep shit, Johnny." That's when I decided to forgive my parents for killing our cow and goat.

I started riding again, spending time with the Lewis's and my relatives, and then school started again. Being from a Catholic background, our school and my Mom loved John F. Kennedy. Knowing nothing about him or politics, I loved him too. If Mama thought he was good, then I did too. One day in the middle of recess, all of the nuns came outside and started ringing bells. This had never happened before, so we knew something bad had happened. Our principal announced on the megaphone that President Kennedy had been shot and we were to kneel where we stood and pray for him. I remember looking down and thinking, this is going to hurt, but I had to do it anyway. I knelt down in the gravel, folded my hands in prayer and bowed my head. I tried to pray for the President, but my knees hurt and it distracted me. I glanced up to see all the nuns holding their rosaries. I was sad for Mr. Kennedy, but were they really going to say an entire rosary while our knees were bleeding? I glanced around and wished I had been in the grass playing like some of the other kids were. I'm not sure if school let out early or if Mama just decided to come and pick us up. After the rosary, I noticed her car in the parking lot and her sitting in it with a tissue to her face. She cried all the way home telling us that we had lost a good man and to pray for his wife and children. Mama was sad for several days and watched every news broadcast regarding President Kennedy.

That year, our school had decided that we were going to be a girls school, so all the boys went to Holy Cross Elementary. Most of the boys had been in my class since Kindergarden and I found it strange, but I missed them. A lot of girls were happy about it, but I had cousins and friends that were boys and I was mad about it. Boys made class a little more interesting, so now school was duller than ever. I was ready for summer. I joined the Camp Fire Girls and decided to focus my energy on earning all the points and patches I could. Most of my friends were in the group, so we met once a week at Suzie Cummings's house. Her Mom was nice, and a good leader, so I loved it. I loved wearing the uniform to school on the days we had our meetings. It was a nice change from the blue and white plaid skirt and white shirt. I still have my uniform and even remember our closing song.

Summer finally came and I was focusing more on Mrs. Fish now. I had tolerated her, but I was mad about a lot of things going on in my life. Daddy was gone a lot more again, the drunks were coming to the door more often and we still had Trouble in the freezer. Mama was back at that picture window too often and I was tired of seeing her sad. The postcards from Dad were occasional, but they always said the same thing, "I'm working hard..." I didn't care how hard he was working, I wanted him home. We seemed to have enough money, so why did he have to be gone so much? I spent more time with my Grandparents again because, after observing Mrs. Fish, I figured even though she was skinny, she could scare someone off just by looking at them. Looking back, I was angry with a lot of things in my life and Mrs. Fish was an innocent bystander. At the time, though, I considered her public enemy number one.

One day, Mom had to take Cindy somewhere and Rosanne was in her room so I came up with a brilliant idea. When Eula used to open cans of food, she removed the entire lid and put it way down into the bottom of the kitchen trash can. When Mrs. Fish opened a can, she left the lid hanging on the can and threw it on top of the trash. Tara was small and curious, so Mom worried about the cans. She asked Mrs. Fish to shove them way down into the trash, but it was a habit, and she usually forgot. Before Mom left with Cindy, she reminded her again to please make sure the cans were at the bottom of the trash. Mrs Fish remembered this time, but I saw this as a golden opportunity never thinking of the consequences. I waited until no one was in the kitchen and told Tara to come "see something."

I pulled a can out from the bottom of the trash and showed Tara how pretty the can was. Seconds later, Tara ran her fingers over the jagged top of the can and was bleeding badly. Oh no, I hadn't planned on her hurting herself like that! I thought she'd have a small cut and Mrs. Fish would be in trouble. I panicked. Just as Tara started to squeal, Mom and Cindy came walking through the back door right into the scene of the crime. Mrs. Fish followed closely, and Rosanne came running from the opposite side of the house. Mama scooped Tara up and ran her hand under cold water to see how badly she was hurt. I felt bad for hurting my baby sister, but also a little smug knowing Mom would be upset with Mrs. Fish and fire her on the spot. Instead, she turned her attention to me. "Kathy!! You were standing right by the trash can when I came in, did you do this to Tara?!" My answer wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the truth either. "Mama, Tara took a can out of the trash! Mrs. Fish doesn't take the lids off the cans." Both women just glared at me, knowing I had something to do with Tara cutting herself. Mom wrapped Tara's hand up, and decided to take her to the hospital for stitches. My imagination went crazy thinking our housekeeper would kill me while they were gone. I begged to go to the hospital with them, but Mom said no. I was sent to my room instead after I had to clean up all the blood. Tara had stitches, I got into big trouble, and Mrs. Fish was still there.

I spent a lot of free time at the Lewis's and my Grandparents, riding again and wandering around the trailer park. I made it a point to go during the week so I could avoid Mrs. Fish and went home on weekends, brushing Snuffy and playing with Gretchen and my sisters.

One day, Rosanne and I had been outside for hours and we were hot. We went to the freezer looking for popsicles, but we didn't have any. We did have a lot of those silver metal ice trays though, so I suggested licking them to cool off. How was I to know metal and tongues don't go well together? One touch of the tongue and we were stuck. That wasn't the worst part; the ice trays were stuck to the freezer shelf. Do you know how hard it is to yell for help when you can't use your tongue? After making as much noise as possible inside a freezer door, our muffled voices were futile. Finally, we could hear someone walk in the kitchen behind us. It was Mrs. Fish. My imagination told me that Rosanne would be freed and I would be stuck to an ice tray for the rest of the day. I jerked my tongue off even though the pain was unbelievable, and screamed in agony. Mrs.Fish told Rosanne not to do that, and poured a little water on her mouth which freed her instantly. It took forever for my mouth to heal, but I learned a valuable lesson.

Aunt Reba and her kids, Aunt Sylvia and her girls, and many friends were visiting often so Mom had a lot of companionship, but Dad was gone a lot. When he did come home, he went on his camping trips again, and never came home when he said he would. Tension was growing again and it was worse than before. I was older now and noticed things that I hadn't noticed before. Dad's behavior was strange, unpredictable and sometimes scary.

One night, Mom tried to talk to him but he wasn't listening. He was yelling and threw something, so Mama got us as quickly as possible into her car and locked the doors. As she backed the car up, Daddy came out to the driveway and told her to let him in. I was sitting right behind Mom, and Daddy looked wild. He yelled at me to open the door. Mom said, "Kathy do NOT open that door." This went on for a couple of minutes with him telling me to open it and her telling me not to. I was petrified and furious that they would put me in this situation, so I put my hands over my ears and screamed, "I hate you both! STOP IT! STOP IT!"

Everything went quiet. I looked up and Dad was in shock. He stared at me as if his heart had broken and I noticed his chin quiver. I couldn't look anymore. I glanced up at Mom in the rear view mirror and saw tears flowing down her face. Rosanne and Cindy were staring at me and Tara burst out in tears. Dad hung his head and let go of the door handle. Mom turned the car and slowly made her way down the driveway. No one said a word but all of us were crying. I finally got the courage to quietly apologize to Mama and reassured her that I loved her and Dad. In a soft voice, she said she knew I did then she told me how sorry she was for doing that to me.*

We stayed at Aunt Reba's that night and I could hear them whispering at the kitchen table for a long time into the night. All I could think about is how sad Dad looked and I hoped he knew I really didn't hate him.

NOTE:* This scene was originally written into the script for the film "Walk The Line" and Dad approved it. Dad and I discussed this scene and he wanted it in the movie to show how destructive family life gets when a parent is using drugs and/or alcohol. After his death, this scene was changed to appear Mom was angry about something else portraying her to be a jealous wife.