BITTER MEMORIES: A Memoir of Heartache & Survival (25 page)

Yeah! Uncle Henry to the rescue! But, when she turned her gaze from him and looked down at me, her eyes were monster black again. Poor Uncle Henry. By trying to help me, he’d made her mad, too.

“Let’s go, Sarah. Now!” Olivia snapped.

I followed her and Auntie Bitch to the area where twelve chairs were set up for the family. She handed me a handkerchief, which I didn’t need, but I took it anyway. Uncle Henry sat down next to her, and gave me a glance and a little smile. I smiled back.

After everyone had been seated, only nine chairs were filled.

Brother Joe, the pastor of the Southern Baptist Church located a few blocks down the main road from my grandparents, had just taken his place at the head of the grave. He stood solemnly while waiting for everyone to gather. He held a black book with gold lettering on the cover so tightly his knuckles turned white. It looked like the book on Grandmother’s nightstand, so I figured it must be a Bible. 

I was glad no one had talked to me since we’d arrived at the cemetery. The looks of pity still came my way often, but most everyone was now busy planning how long to stay for the reception at my grandparent’s house.

Out of boredom, I decided to count cars parked behind the limos—all the cars that belonged to the “friends” who’d followed our limo. One,
two,
three, four, five, six, seven,
eight, nine….

A very heavyset woman was standing behind me, and when she began laughing it caught my attention. I listened as she talked to her friend.

“Peggy, if they don’t have chocolate cake, I’m not staying!” Then, almost in a whisper, she added, “I want chocolate so bad. You know, I think funerals make me want cake.”

Peggy smiled, and whispered, “I know, Maggie. I know.”

I thought: Look at yourself lady! You look for
any
excuse to have cake, ice cream, pie
…
anything full of sugar to put more tonnage on you! Peggy rolled her eyes, and smiled, shaking her head. Maybe she had the same thoughts as I did.

Oh well, where was I? Oh yeah! Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen. 

That’s it. No more cars. 

Brother Joe had started waving his arm to get everyone’s attention, once again. I thought to myself,
this preacher has so much patience
. If it’d been me, I would’ve been yelling for everyone to shut the hell up long ago!

Several women were still talking when
chocolate cake Maggie
turned to one of the ladies and snapped, “Kate! Be quiet so we can get this over with!” 

Kate also rolled her eyes, but she stopped talking. 

Another car pulled up, parking in front of the white limo. I watched as a man and a woman got out of the front seat while two kids climbed out the back. The girl appeared around eight or so; the boy a little older. I was thinking
more
strangers
when I heard Olivia say to Grandmother, “John, Beth and the kids are here.”

More family
? 

I watched them walk across the grounds toward us, and wondered which side of the tree they’d fallen from. I knew some of Olivia’s family had arrived at the chapel just moments before the service had started, but I hadn’t been introduced to anyone. 

When they got closer I recognized him as the man I’d seen talking to Uncle Jason outside the funeral home. I started to ask Olivia about him, but Brother Joe was still trying to get everyone’s attention, so I knew right then wouldn’t be the best time for me to be asking questions. 

John and the woman sat down in the row behind us, the girl sat next to her mother, and since there were no more chairs, the boy stood next to John. Looking back at John, our eyes met for a moment, and I sensed some kind of connection.

I felt I should know him! 

Brother Joe finally had everyone’s attention, and had started speaking softly to the crowd. “Please bow your heads for a moment of silent prayer.”

I lowered my head, but I still looked around as much as possible. Glancing at the other family members, they all had their eyes closed. Even Aunt Olivia wasn’t watching me, for once! So, again I looked back at John, just as he looked right at me.
Busted
!

Brother Joe began speaking, “We’re gathered here today to lay our sister, Violet, to rest. Ashes to ashes; dust to dust…”

My thoughts drifted away wondering if John had known my mother. He and Uncle Henry looked similar, but I knew Olivia never had a kid. I’d have to ask Uncle Henry about him. Maybe he was a cousin…

Ripped out of my thoughts by the iron hand on my arm, Olivia glared at me with her black monster eyes. I hadn’t heard Brother Joe say it, but since everyone had their heads down and eyes closed, I lowered my head, hoping that would be good enough to get me out of the doghouse, for a while.

I listened to the preacher. “Our Heavenly Father, we send one of Your children who has passed on from this earth to join You, the Creator, in Heaven. Watch over and guide the family and friends gathered here today in their time of grief. Help them to be strong and to know our sister, Violet, is in a much nicer place in Your Kingdom. In Your name, we do pray. Amen.”

The moment he stopped talking, those who were standing began chatting again. I started to stand, but a strong hand pulled me down, and Olivia snidely whispered, “Sit down, Sarah! Brother Joe shakes hands with the family before we leave.” 

So, I sat and waited as he walked from one family member to the next shaking hands. Most everyone was telling him it had been a nice service, and when he got to me, he smiled and said, “Sarah, if you’d like to talk to me later,” he glanced at Olivia, “Let me know.”

“Thank you, Brother Joe,” Olivia answered, taking his hand. “We’ll bring her to see you if
we
feel she needs someone to talk to.”

I thought it might’ve been nice talking to him, but it sounded like that would be strictly up to Olivia. Besides, I wouldn’t want to talk to him with her in the room. I might ask a
stupid
question. But, without her around I’d be able to relax, and maybe I’d get some of my questions answered—however, I saw no use even thinking about it further since I didn’t have a choice in the matter.

As we started to leave, John came up and told Uncle Henry he’d see us back at the house in a little while. Walking away, he looked at me, and again, I felt that strange connection. He smiled. I smiled back, thinking,
I have to find out who you are—and very soon
. 

Driving back to the funeral home, Auntie Bitch and Olivia were lost in thought, and I, as usual, lost in my own world, wondered what life would be like living with my grandparents. I knew I’d have to go to school, which didn’t thrill me. 

With Daddy, it hadn’t been safe to go to school. He was afraid to stay anywhere for very long, and he always looked over his shoulder, scared the police would spot him and pull him over. 

After Mama brought me home, I didn’t have to go to school because it was so close to the end of the school year, and she said we needed time to catch up. That, of course, made me very happy, but we didn’t get to spend much time together because of her drinking.

Thinking back now, all I could remember was her coming home drunk, and the fighting. Mama and Auntie Bitch screaming at each other, and so damn much fighting.…

Again, the iron grip on my arm shook me out of my thoughts, telling me I’d been spoken to. At the rate I was going, I’d have bruises all over my arms!

“Come on, Sarah!” Olivia was saying. “Everyone’s waiting for us at the house.”

I hadn’t noticed we were back at the funeral home, or that she stood outside the limo waiting for me. “Sorry, Aunt Olivia.”

“Just get out of the car, Sarah.” She expelled a deep sigh, and turned to her husband. “She just isn’t on this planet, Henry. I swear I don’t know what I’m gonna do with this child.”

“Give her time, Olivia.” His voice sounded very tired. “Just give her time.” 

Auntie Bitch had already planted herself in the back seat of my uncle’s blue and white Ford Fairlane. She appeared ready to bite a hole in her shorts. I knew she was dying for a cigarette and a shot of bourbon.

I got in and leaned against my door, as far away from the bitch as possible. Each time she gave me a sideways glance, I looked away. The entire day had been very tiring and I just wanted to be alone. 

My grandparents lived halfway down a dirt road in a country-like setting. It was still in the Lubbock city limits, but not by much. At the end of the road was the lake where Granddad and I had gone almost every day since I’d come home. For hours we’d sit on the pier looking at the water. Before Mama had started drinking again she’d come with us, sometimes.

I miss those times with Mama
.

Uncle Henry pulled up and parked in front of the house. Cars were parked as far down the road as I could see. I figured old hefty Maggie would already be inside chomping down on cake, and I couldn’t help but giggle as an image of her shoving down a whole triple-decker in one bite came to mind.

“Just what’s so funny,
missy
?” 

The Bitch! Speaking to me? Go to hell, you witch! “Nothing,” I replied coldly, then waited for her to mouth off again. She didn’t. She must’ve decided to let the issue drop, for now. 

My grandparents’ very large yard was surrounded by a white picket fence that needed a coat of paint. The entire left side of the yard looked so beautiful covered in a thick carpet of Bluebonnets. Granddad had said they were the state flower of Texas and they grew wild in his yard.

On the right side, a cedar bench under a big tree had always been a special place for me. Granddad and I had sat on that bench for hours just letting time pass us by. From the very start I’d felt relaxed, even peaceful, being with him.

The house, although old, felt comfortable. The small living room had an old brownish-gold colored couch, two brown chairs, and a small end table next to each chair. A lamp with yellow roses painted on the round globe base sat on the table next to grandmother’s chair.

Granddad smoked a pipe, so he had a special rack with five pipes in individual holders and an ashtray on his table. He also kept a bag of tobacco and another pipe in his pocket so he could smoke whenever he wanted. 

To the right of the front door sat a console-type black and white TV with rabbit ears stretched toward the ceiling. Between the chairs, on the left, was a door into my grandparent’s bedroom.

Straight ahead, a door led into the bedroom I shared with Mama. When I first came home, looking around the rooms and at the furniture, everything felt strange. I couldn’t remember ever living in the house, and wondered how my life could just not exist before Daddy took me away. 

“Sarah, get out of the doorway.” 

“Sorry, Aunt Olivia.” I stepped out of her way.

I didn’t volunteer what I’d been thinking about, and luckily, she didn’t ask. Still, I saw that scrunched up smirk as she walked past me, shaking her head. 

The largest room in the house—the kitchen/dining room—was the room where most guests congregated to when they came for a visit, and where most of the people had headed the moment they walked into the house after the funeral.

Of course, that was where all the food that had been brought in during the last few days was at!

From the dining area, another door went into my grandparent’s bedroom, and in the middle of the dining room, another door led into the bedroom I shared with Mama. The bathroom had been built off the kitchen at the far end, which I thought a strange place for a bathroom! 

I’d tried so many times to remember living in the house years ago, but everything had remained a total, depressing blank. I stood in the doorway of the bedroom, and a frightening thought crossed my mind—what if they expected me to share Mama’s bedroom with the bitch?

Well, they could expect all they wanted, but I wouldn’t do it! The Bitch could go straight to hell! They all could go straight to hell, but I would
not
stay in the same room with that damned old bitch who had killed my mother!

“Sarah, are you all right? Your face is white as a sheet!”

Startled that anyone was near me, I looked up into the face of my uncle, and smiled. “Yes, Uncle Jason. I’m just tired, I guess.” 

“You sure? Maybe you should lie down.”

“No. I’m fine. Really.” I broadened my smile, hoping to reassure him. After nearly a minute, he smiled, gave me a pat on the back, and headed on into the kitchen. 

Whew! That was close
! 

I knew I couldn’t tell anyone how I felt about the bitch or anything else. There’d be too damn many questions I couldn’t answer. I figured I’d better think about something else since the next person might not give up as easily as Uncle Jason.

The door on the opposite side of the kitchen led to my favorite places—a screened-in porch and the backyard. On the porch, a small cot, a ringer-type washing machine, and some boxes of who-knew-what were in the corner. No one ever came out on the porch except to do laundry or to take a shortcut into the backyard.