|
|
||||
|
More Writings |
||||
|
SHORT STORIES SECRETS By Darby West
It had only been two weeks since we buried Uncle Ruben. I had never known anyone that had died; he being the first person in my life to have passed away. I remember that day as if it were yesterday. As the school bus made its way down the dusty dirt road to our house a strange feeling came over me. I didn’t know what was wrong, but I knew that something was not the same as it was when I left that morning to go to school. I walked slowly up the path leading to our house. The front door was opened, but no one responded to my “I’m home!” There was no note; which was not like Mommy at all. I went out on the back porch and looked towards the field behind our house. “Daddy! Daddy!” I called out. Still no one answered. The sheets were still on the clothesline, blowing gently in the cool breeze. I gathered them off the line and carried them inside the house. After laying them in Daddy’s recliner I went to the kitchen to fix myself a snack. I removed a paring knife from the block and began to peel an apple. The peeling fell away from the apple and into the sink in one long peel. I smiled proudly because I had been practicing that for months. Too bad Mommy wasn’t here to see it; she would be proud of me as well. While I ate the cold, crisp apple I couldn’t help the feeling that kept coming over me convincing me that something was so very wrong.
I decided to ask my Mommy’s sister, Aunt Marie if she had seen Mommy and Daddy. Aunt Marie lived just a hop and a skip away from our house; less than a quarter of a mile. Aunt Marie liked flowers, so their driveway was lined with large white-washed stones with azaleas planted between each stone. Her hedges were neatly trimmed and roses went up the trellis that led to her backdoor. Halfway to her house I heard her crying loudly. I ran the rest of the way, worried that something had happened to my parents. I took the porch steps two at a time. Swinging open the back door, I stepped inside quickly. Mommy was holding Aunt Marie tightly in her arms, rocking her back and forth. Daddy sat on the tip of the chair with his head down. He looked up when I called his name. His eyes were red and blood shot, tears rolled down his face. I stepped back a half step and waited for him to speak. “Ruben died today,” he said softly, his voice breaking. I knew about death because we lived on a farm and I had seen many dead animals; I just never knew a human that had died before. I shook my head no and put my hand to my mouth. He pulled me into his arms and held me while I cried. Uncle Ruben was Daddy’s youngest brother. There was eleven months difference in their ages; but they were as close as twins.
Aunt Marie had just one son who was grown and living in Nashville. “Call my baby! Call my baby!” Aunt Marie wailed. Daddy put his hand over my ear and pulled me closer to his chest. Death was an awful, evil thing. I had read a story in school that described it as a person. It wore all black, and kept its face in the shadows. It carried a staff and only had to point the staff at you, and you died. I hated it!
Lots of people in the neighborhood came by that evening to check on Aunt Marie. Most of the people were family; the Credles, the Adams and the Murphys. Most of them brought food that they left at our house when Aunt Marie’s refrigerator got full. My cousins, Stephanie and Lisa came by with their mother, my Aunt Bett. She was Mommy’s youngest sister and lived near the church that Mommy and Aunt Marie attended. Stephanie and Lisa followed me upstairs to my bedroom. I shut the door and we sat down on the bed.
“This is weird, isn’t it?” Lisa said, breaking the silence. It was so weird; this feeling that had taken over my body. I wanted to cry, but there were so many people crying that I felt that I had to be strong. I clutched a pillow to my chest and sat on the bed crossed-legged.
It wasn’t until two days later that I overheard my father and some of my older uncles talking about Uncle Ruben’s death. He had gone to work that morning, just like always. He worked for the State, helping to maintain the grounds around the government buildings downtown. At lunch time he opened his lunch box and began to eat his food. As he leaned against a large oak tree enjoying his lunch he began to hemorrhage. He choked to death on his own blood. When he didn’t return to work, they went looking for him, but it was too late. I didn’t know what hemorrhage was, so I looked it up in the dictionary. It said hemorrhage was to bleed profusely; a gush of blood.
The day of the funeral Mommy laid a black dress on my bed with a white collar. I looked at the price tag and wondered why she had to buy me a dress just to go to a funeral, and why it had to be black.
“Everybody knows you wear black to a funeral. Whatcha wanna wear? Red? Get dressed and greet these folks when they get here,” she said angrily. I was sorry that I had asked. I put the black dress on, and pulled my hair in a pony-tail.
I rode in the family car with my first cousins trailing behind the other family car that contained my aunt, my mother and all of my Uncle Rueben’s brothers. I could still see the coffin from the back window of the car, and I fell silent. I had been so busy serving food, making beds, and being there for everyone that I didn’t really think about missing Uncle Ruben. As we drove to the church that morning, it dawned on me that I would never see him again. He would never bring me bags of Tootsie Pops when he went into town. He would no longer pull my pony-tail and tease me about, “All that hair on your big ol’ head!” He and Daddy wouldn’t sit on the back porch on Saturday nights drinking white lightning from Mason jars and eating boiled peanuts. I would never see him and Aunt Marie dancing in the sitting room on Friday nights, when the whole family got together and celebrated. He was gone and I would miss him dearly. I began to cry, and it had a domino effect on everyone in the car with me. By the time we got to the church we were all a mess. However, no one took it harder than Aunt Marie. She walked up to the coffin and stood there looking at Uncle Ruben and whispering to him softly. She bent down and kissed his face. Her son, RJ went to get her, but she pushed him away. “Take me too, Lord!” she screamed over and over.
That evening, after most of the family had returned to their respective homes I walked over to Aunt Marie’s to check on her. She was lying down in the guest room, afraid to go to their bedroom. I went in and sat down on the bed beside her. I hadn’t gotten the chance to tell her that I would be there for her, always. Her eyes were blood shot and puffy, and she was rocking back and forth. She smiled when she saw me, and patted the bed beside her. I took off my shoes and lay beside her, facing her. She pulled one of my pony tails. “He loved to pull your hair, didn’t he?” “I’m gonna miss that.” “He wasn’t but forty-eight years old. He wasn’t no old man. I just can’t understand why he left me. He knows I can’t live without him.” “Yes, you can. I’ll be here for you. You know I will.” She pulled me into her arms and we held each other until she fell asleep.
Mommy was going to stay the night with Aunt Marie as she had done ever since Uncle Ruben had died. Everyone had gone back home and gone on with their lives. I went to the kitchen where Daddy was carving a ham. “You hungry?” he asked. I nodded yes. He got another plate from the cupboard and placed three slices of ham on it. I put some potato salad on the plate and a sliced of pone bread. I went to the setting room and turned on the TV. Daddy joined me on the couch.
“I’m gonna miss my brother” he said. I cut up my ham and poured hot sauce on it and chewed my food slowly. I didn’t want to talk about Uncle Ruben anymore. I just wanted everything to go back to the way it was before.
I put some clothes in my backpack and went to the door. “I’m going to spend the night over Aunt Marie’s,” I said to Daddy. “Alright, baby,” he said softly.
I turned on the porch light and stepped outside. The moon was full, lighting up the sky eerily. I was suddenly afraid to walk the path. I laughed at my silliness and stepped off the porch. I walked to the path leading to my aunt’s house and stopped. It was suddenly dark so I looked up at the moon. A cloud had passed before it. I wanted to run back to our house, and to the safety of being near my father. However, I knew that I had to go to my aunt’s house that night. I walked quickly down the path, the sweet intoxicating smell of the azaleas beckoning me on. The cloud moved away from the surface of the moon and it lit the sky again. I ran down the path quickly while I could see the glistening, dew moistened ground. I sat down on the porch to remove my shoes, when I heard my mother’s voice, angry and hateful. I couldn’t believe that she would be talking to Aunt Marie that way when she knew she was in so much pain.
“Tonya is sixteen years old. Sixteen! We’ve carried this secret for sixteen years and we will carry it to our grave. If you even look like you might tell it, I swear I will kill you!” Mommy said angrily. “We’ve been hiding this secret long enough. She’s my husband’s child! I’m gonna tell her!” Aunt Marie shouted. I heard a hand hit flesh and then a gasp. “She’s my child!” Mommy screamed.
I ran from the house, hot tears burning my face, the truth of the lies that had been buried for sixteen years exposed. Uncle Ruben was my father! He and my mother had an affair! Oh Lord, no! This would kill my Daddy. I fell on the dirt, muddying my jeans. As I scrambled to my feet and began to run again; I saw what appeared to be a snake curled up, head raised to strike. I was running too fast to stop short of it and too fast to maneuver around it. I leaped into the air above the snake, as I saw him make a striking motion. In one swift look my brain registered that the snake was a blowing adder. They were dangerous and deadly. I didn’t want to die. I hadn’t been kissed by a boy yet. I hadn’t gone to the prom, or graduated from high school. I was lifted up into the air, way above the coiling snake, my feet never touching the ground until I was on the front porch of our house, some ten yards away. I fell to my knees panting and trying to call my Daddy so he could explain this strange phenomenon. What had lifted me up like that, I wondered as I lay there trying to catch my breath. I tiptoed into the house and went to my bedroom, where I removed my dirty pants and curled up in a ball crying softly.
The next day, as I prepared to go to school I watched Mommy as she moved laboriously around the kitchen. “Does your knee hurt?” I asked seeing her holding onto the counter as she made her way to the table, bringing a platter of eggs and ham.
“I hit it against something last night. It’s a bit sore,” she said forcing a smile. She touched my hair and smiled again.
“You know you’re old enough to wear your hair in another style, not just in pony-tails. I think you’ll look real pretty with curls,” she said.
“Can you fix it for me when I get home today?” “Sure, baby,” she replied.
She continued looking at me, fighting the tears. I knew that her knee was hurting because she and Aunt Marie fought. I knew that she didn’t want me to wear pony-tails anymore because it reminded her of Uncle Ruben. All traces of him had to be removed from our lives. He couldn’t be remembered as my favorite uncle, Daddy’s baby brother, Aunt Marie’s husband, or Mommy’s lover.
Daddy came into the kitchen and kissed Mommy.
“Did you sleep on the couch last night?” he asked. Mommy mumbled and went to the cabinet to get him the hot sauce. We sat there, Daddy and I talking about work and school while Mommy looked at us confused and loving us so much that she would rather die carrying this secret with her, sealing it in her coffin forever.
I got my backpack, and kissed Mommy on the cheek. Daddy put his work boots on and stood up. Mommy looked as if she would fall to the floor in a heap any minute.
“You get some rest today, baby,” Daddy said holding her tenderly.
“I love you, baby,” she said not wanting to let him go. Daddy and I went to the car and got in. Mommy was standing on the porch with one hand to her chest, the other holding a corner of her dress, her bare leg showing bruises. Daddy had told me once that all of women in Mommy’s family play with the corner of their dresses when they are nervous about something. Her head suddenly turned towards the path leading to Aunt Marie’s house. I followed her gaze to see my aunt standing near her rose trellis, breathing heavily making her dress tremble with each inhalation. One hand was to her chest and the other held the corner of her dress. I could see the pain in her eyes, and knew that she too loved me enough to die with this secret sealed in her coffin forever.
THE END |
||||
|
|
We Accept:
|
|||
