Experience had already taught us that talking back on Bingo nights, especially those nights when she was not in a good mood, was met with a swift and decisive pummeling. That said, we complied with her orders.
I’m not sure what happened to put her in such a foul mood on those nights, but I often wondered why she continued to do something she knew would upset her. I’d like to think that if I wasn’t forced into something that upset me, I’d just simply quit doing it.
She made us bring in eight, five-gallon buckets full of water. Eddie was hurting much more than I. She had cracked him across the ribs with the battery strap. I had welts on my legs and butt, but he had one on his back and one on his side, right up under his rib cage, and it was slowly turning purple.
We helped Lee wash. Lee and I alternated, each scrubbing two or three pieces, then resting a bit as the other scrubbed. I didn’t realize washing clothes on a washboard required so much effort. By the time we finished, my shoulders hurt bad. After that night, I felt even sorrier for Lee. Eddie and I grew sore after a few hours in the garden, but scrubbing clothes on a washboard for hours on end gave me both a whole new level and a whole different kind of soreness. I would have liked to soak in a hot tub, but that would have required much more labor.
After washing four large piles, we brought another six buckets in for rinsing. Rinsing was far easier than washing. We simply placed the soapy clothes into the tub, filled it with water, pushed on them a bit, then pulled them out.
We finished the clothes at about two o’clock in the morning. Eddie and I stayed outside talking with Lee, as he hung them onto the clothesline. It was dark, but he was pretty good at it. Neither Eddie nor I were tall enough to reach the clothesline, so we handed the clothes to Lee, and he pinned them to the clothesline, one piece at a time.
When morning came, I was surprised Eddie woke up at his usual time. He had two big mason jars in hand. I didn’t know precisely what he had planned, but I figured it had to do with the beating we received on the previous night.
Feenie was still too big for Eddie and me to fight. We knew if we tried to physically confront her, she would beat us silly. But, while she had a considerable advantage in size and strength, we had nature on our side.
Explorers that we were, we took no issue with nature. Feenie, however, loathed it. Bees, snakes and spiders all terrified her, to the point that she had Jeff and The Old Man put up a screen around the front porch to keep the insects out.
We held that nature was solely responsible for providing us with nourishment, and we treated it accordingly. When we gathered, we were careful to leave enough berries and apples to provide for the animals. When we hunted, we made every effort to kill quickly. I had seen documentaries in school about the importance of not making animals suffer, if possible. I agreed with that philosophy.
The Old Man was always working at one job or another, so Old Man Waybright taught us how to hunt. A hillbilly in every sense of the word, Waybright could truly live off the land. He almost had to. He never finished the fifth grade, having been driven away by the merciless teasing he endured for being Albino. Fortunately, society had progressed a bit, and his two albino children endured far less teasing than their father did.
Since we were still very young, Eddie and I could only use the .22. The older kids got to use the .270 or the .30-.30. James and Jeff could handle the 12 gauge. They hunted squirrel and groundhog and rabbit. Eddie and I looked for turkey. We wouldn’t shoot at anything with the .22 unless it was stationary.
It was yet another warm summer day, a perfect day to be in the creek hunting crawdads. Unfortunately, crawdads did not serve the needs of that day. Feenie’s brutal beating with the battery strap the previous night rendered breathing difficult for Eddie. He gasped and wheezed uncomfortably doing the simplest of physical activity.
Eddie’s bruise had grown substantially overnight. It completely covered his bottom two ribs. He was pissed off, not only for the beating, but for the whole maggot incident too. Needless to say, I was also a bit worked up. James was working, so it was up to us to do something.
Two large apple trees stood prominently along the southern perimeter of the field where the cows grazed. A few weeks earlier, we noticed a whole nest of yellow jackets in the center of one tree, right where the branches and trunk met. We didn’t go in the field often, figuring that since the cows didn’t give us any problems, we shouldn’t give them any. Once in a while, Tink and Sis wandered about in there, but only to explore.
Eddie’s condition made it hard to get over the gate. I hopped back over and pushed him up. We walked through the field, staying about twenty yards away from the seven cows grazing near the fence along the dirt road. They either didn’t notice, or they didn’t care, that we were on their turf.
As we walked toward the apple trees, we called Feenie every name that a seven and eight year old kid could think of. “Cow poop eater,” Eddie wheezed. “Stinky rat-face witch!” I exclaimed. Eddie tried to laugh, but I could see it caused him a great deal of pain.
We were careful around bees. We had caught many of them in the past. We had also experienced the pain and misery that came with not affording them the proper respect. Eddie had been stung at least ten times the previous year and I probably got it twenty times. I usually got stung about once every five days or so in the summertime. It always hurt like hell, but fortunately, the pain didn’t last too long.
We arrived at the tree with a purpose. I never asked Eddie what he thought the limit should be on how many times he could be stung. I was willing to collect as many bees as I needed, no matter what the cost. Eddie had an equally determined look.
At least a hundred wasps crawled around on many of the damaged apples that had fallen from the tree. I didn’t know if they were eating them or drinking the juice, but they seemed to be content. They didn’t even get stirred up enough to chase us off.
Seeing that, we thought it would be a good idea to put a piece of an apple in each jar. Eddie smashed an apple on a rock. Ample amounts of juice dripped from it. He gave me half to put in my jar and he put the other half in his jar. We then went about collecting bees.
Eddie caught one, then quickly covered the jar with the lid. “Easy as pie,” he said as he screwed the lid down onto the jar. We had stabbed holes in the lids earlier to make sure the bees could breathe.
They didn’t even seem to notice they were getting caught and being held captive. Once inside the jars, they all just went to the apples at the bottom of the jars and crawled around on them. We managed to get pretty close to the hive without getting stung even once. I thought about just scooping up a whole bunch right from the hive, but figured it was probably too risky.
After collecting about forty or so, we headed back down the field, toward the house. I think Eddie might have been having second thoughts, judging by his trembling voice. “She’s going to get real mad. Even if she doesn’t get stung once, you know how she hates bugs.”
I agreed with him, but the plan had already been set in motion. By rule, a plan set in motion could not be stopped, unless it posed immediate risk of serious harm or death to a participant (Feenie excluded). Sure, she would be mad enough to make that a reality. However, if I had a well-thought-out escape plan, then risk of serious harm, while prevalent, wasn’t immediate.
If we could get a thirty yard head start on her, we knew she could never catch us, especially in the creek. We had run through that creek nearly every summer day for the previous two years. We knew everything about the creek. We knew where the unexpected holes were, which rocks were easiest to slip on, and any other possible pitfalls. The creek was a strategic ally. It was our territory.
I told Eddie to go to the creek and get ready to run. He needed a bit more of a head start that day. He again asked if I was certain I wanted to go through with it. “If she catches us, she’ll beat us. I can’t handle another one today,” he said, pointing to the dark purple bruise covering the bottom portion of the left side of his r
ib cage.
“I promise she can’t catch us,” I said. “Can you run?”
He jogged about ten steps. Grimacing, he turned and said “I think so, but not like yesterday. I can’t swing my arms very well.”
I told him to go up the creek about another hundred yards. “She won’t even be able to see you,” I promised. I don’t ever remember her coming up the creek more than thirty or forty yards.
I walked with him a ways up the creek. After we agreed he was at a safe distance, I said “ok, you stay here. Give me your bees.”
We knew that if the plan failed, there would be hell to pay. We also knew that if the plan was only moderately successful, meaning that she only got stung a few times, there still would be hell to pay. I hoped we had enough to sting her to death, but deep down, I fully expected her to survive. I didn’t even really expect that she’d have to go to the hospital.
No matter. I was going to let them loose in her room, and let the chips fall where they may. I planned to mete out some measure of justice for the beating she gave us the previous night. Eddie’s ribs demanded that she pay.
When I got to the house, I expected her to be up and about. As I approached, I saw Lee in the kitchen, cleaning dishes. He glanced down at the jars. I put my finger to my lips, gesturing for him to be quiet. I whispered “where’s Mom?”
Lee was broken, both physically and mentally. Grandpa Joe used to say he was a different kid when he was younger, but all the beatings had broken his spirit. “She’s trying to turn him into the daughter she never had,” he said.
I hadn’t known any other Lee than the quiet, timid one tasked with doing virtually all the inside chores. He was the third oldest, but James, the fourth oldest, was much stronger in every way, except running.
Indeed, Feenie demanded nothing short of perfection from Lee. Clothes and dishes had to be spotless. The shack had to be kept clean, an impossible task, given so many kids making messes. Most importantly, he had to remain at the ready to give Feenie anything she wanted. He didn’t get outside to play very much.
Grandpa Joe said “Thank God she didn’t have the medical know-how or she would have given him a pussy.” I didn’t know what he meant until later on, when I asked James. Gross!
“She’s still in bed,” he whispered back. Looking back down at the jars, he began to understand the purpose of the question. He quietly ran out the back door, leaving it open for me. Lee didn’t need the creek to get away. He ran cross-country for the junior high team. He could run for miles, never seeming to tire. Feenie could never catch him if he was outside. For that matter, I don’t think The Old Man could, either.
I pulled back the blanket that covered the doorway to her room just enough to peek inside. She was still sleeping. Standing there all alone, I thought for a moment about not going through with it. I thought that if she caught me before I got away, she would literally beat me to death. Fortunately, my fear was fleeting. I was doing it for my brother.
I shook both jars until the bees got mad. Buzzing angrily, they wanted out of the jars. I knew I would be stung many times if I just unscrewed the lids and let them fly. “There is only one way,” I thought. “I have to lob them into the air in her room. When the jars hit the hard floor, they will break and the angry bees will take her down.”
Again I peeled back the blanket. With one jar in each hand, I tossed them into the air towards the corner closest to her face. As I ran out of the house, I heard the glass break. I didn’t look back as I raced for the creek. I heard screaming. “Good,” I thought, as I sprinted across the yard. “I hope they make her pay.”
I made it to the creek and ducked down. Staying low, I looked back to see if she had seen me. Thankfully, she hadn’t. She must have been too busy dealing with the bees. In all the commotion, I remember hearing four distinct screams.
Careful not to make any noise, I slowly crawled through the creek bed, forty or so yards, to where Eddie was. Well-hidden behind a tangled maze of thick brush, we watched her run from the house, out into the garden, screaming. I was happy she was getting her just desserts.
“You bastards!” she yelled, studying her surroundings for clues as to who could have done it. As soon as she began to turn to look in our direction, Eddie and I lay flat in the creek.
As she continued to survey her surroundings, we peeked up over the bank to catch a glimpse of her. I didn’t know where Lee was, but I figured he ran up the mountain, towards the Grants. Wherever he was, I sensed he, too, was watching.
After ten fruitless minutes of screaming and yelling for us to “get our asses back to the house,” she relented and went back inside. We watched from the safety of the concealing brush as she chased bees out of the house with the broom. I’m certain she killed all those that elected not to leave when prompted.
Still pretty early, Eddie was upset she was able to get away. He said that she would just wait and beat us silly when we got home. We decided that staying away for the day would be best.
We played in the creek all day. We found some blackberries. In the early afternoon, we slipped undetected into the garden and picked some tomatoes, washing them in the creek. They tasted bitter, but we surely did not want to go back to the house.
Evening came quickly. We hoped it was Bingo night. As we made our way toward the house, we saw The Old Man’s car. We were relieved that the blue Chrysler was nowhere to be found.
Once inside, Eddie took his shirt off. He reasoned that if The Old Man saw the bruises on his ribs, he wouldn’t allow her to beat him about the torso when she got back. The Old Man was lying down on the couch. Eddie walked past him, making sure he saw the condition she left him in the previous night. The Old Man had been in bed asleep the previous night when Feenie pulled us up out of bed and beat us. He saw Eddie’s bruises, but he never said a word.
James came home a short time later. He usually brought home any extra bread from the bakery that didn’t get sold while still fresh, but they sold everything they made that day. Ms. Schmidt, the bakery owner, gave him a gallon jug of peanut butter. Seeing that, Lee ran for the spoon, while Eddie got a loaf of bread.
When James saw Eddie’s ribs, he blurted “that stupid bitch needs to die!” Then he looked at The Old Man and said “look, if you don’t want us, tell us. We’ll build a place over in the other field. This shit’s got to stop. If you won’t stop it, I swear I’m going to gut the bitch.”
The Old Man yelled “I don’t want to hear your shit tonight, boy. I know it’s gotta stop, but goddamn it, you boys deserve to have your asses beat once in a while.”
James went over, got Eddie by the arm, and took him to within about two feet in front of The Old Man. He shouted “you tellin’ me a seven year old kid needs this shit? Is her pussy that good that you’d let her kill your fuckin’ kids? You’re a dumbass.”
The Old Man jumped up and backhanded James, knocking him to the floor. Standing over James, he shouted “I said I don’t want your shit tonight!”
James remained defiant. As soon as The Old Man walked away, he jumped to his feet and shouted back “The hell with this. I’m going to bring the cops back home tomorrow night after work. Maybe they’ll do something.”
The Old Man grew more agitated. “I said that’s enough. You bring the cops out here, and I’ll beat you to death myself! Now, you’d best get your ass to bed, or you’re going to get hurt.”
James stared at The Old Man for about ten seconds, testing his patience.
“MOVE!” shouted The Old Man, his patience clearly having worn thin.
I sense that The Old Man knew there was too much violence, but I think he hated the thought of confronting Feenie about it.
Sensing The Old Man was ready to explode, James slowly trudged away.
We ate our sandwiches and went to bed. Expecting that Feenie would come in and yank us out of bed in the middle of the night, Eddie and I put on two extra pairs of underwear. James taught us that trick, saying “it works pretty well, providing she beats yo
ur asses and uses a belt, but it ain’t gonna help if she gets a hold of a battery strap. That still hurts like hell.”
I don’t know what happened that night, but she never came in. We were both surprised and relieved when we woke up the next morning. Eddie was feeling a lot better, taking in full breaths again. We hoed the garden for about two hours, then went down to the creek, spending the bulk of the day catching crawdads.
Chapter 5: The Indian
Eddie and I headed to the creek earlier than usual on that July morning. The Old Man told us it was going to be very hot, so we began hoeing the garden at first light, each working non-stop for three grueling hours or so. We had already brought in the day’s necessary water on the previous night.
Before Feenie came out of her room, we each ate one peanut butter sandwich and wrapped another in foil, to be eaten later in the day in the event we would be unable to locate something a bit more palatable. We bid farewell to Lee, who was sitting on the couch, awaiting the day’s first demand of him. He remained at the ready, knowing he would soon be required to make Feenie her morning coffee as soon as she woke up.
As we made our way across the yard toward the creek, we stopped for a bit, playing in the hole Jeff and The Old Man were digging for the new outhouse. I didn’t understand the need for even making a new hole. The outhouse wasn’t yet even halfway full. Nevertheless, they had already dug a pretty impressive hole, perhaps three feet wide and long, and about two feet deep. They had been working on it, as time allowed, for close to a whole week. I figured they had to go a little more than twice as deep as they had already dug in order to copy the one in use, though I wasn’t about to jump into the old one to confirm my guess. I wondered a bit about how long the new one would last. The one we had been using had been used by all of us for several years.
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