by Joy Redmond
Bonnie Sue yelled from downstairs, “Do you need me for anything else?”
Bonnie Sue’s whiney voice caused his erection to deflate, completely. He walked to the head of the stairs. “Yeah, I need you to steam press my suit.”
Bonnie Sue was standing at the bottom of the stairs and she looked up when Lance answered her. Then her eyes bugged from their sockets.
Lance laughed. “What’s the matter, baby? Haven’t you ever seen a naked man?”
She turned her back and flatly asked, “Where’s your suit?”
“Never mind, you can to do it tomorrow. I’m tired and I want to go to bed,” he said, holding back another laugh. He strolled back to his old bedroom, stretched out on the bed naked, and chuckled. Bonnie Sue reminded him of the red, windup top he had when he was a small boy. He raised his arms over his head, stretched and yawned. He was tired, and the joint and bath had relaxed him, but he knew when he closed his eyes, his mind would start spinning as it always did.
He closed his eyes. Suddenly, the face of the young girl from Vietnam flashed through his mind. Her face disappeared. Mrs. Moneybag’s face danced before him. He got out of bed, fumbled in his jeans pocket and pulled out his pill pouch. He popped two Quaaludes into his mouth. “There’s nothing better than a couple ludes to chase the ghosts away.”
Before he lay back down, he pushed his briefcase under the bed on top of the loose slats where he had hidden his get-away money.
Knowing ole Ruby was out of the house, being back in his old room, listening to familiar outdoor sounds was comforting. He flopped over on his stomach and pulled his knees to his chest. Then he reached down, picked up Teddy, and tucked the stuffed bear under his armpit. Soon, he began to float. “Aah, sweet ludes,” he whispered.
The next morning, he awoke to the smell of bacon frying and coffee brewing. He picked up his shaving kit and shuffled down the hallway, a bit loopy. He lathered, shaved, wiped off the remaining lather with a washcloth, and splashed Aramis over his smooth face.
He went back to his bedroom, reached for his jeans, and fished through the pill pouch. “Two black beauties and a cup of black coffee will get my blood going,” he mumbled. He popped the pills into his mouth and headed for the closet. He opened the door and smiled. Bonnie Sue had pressed his suit while he was sleeping, and ironed his white shirt. “Sweet, annoying Bonnie Sue,” he said as he reached for his clothes.
He searched through his suitcase and found his navy blue wingtip shoes, and a pair of navy blue socks. He quickly dressed, then admired himself in the mirror over the chest. Yeah, I’m one handsome dude.
He bounded downstairs, feeling the effects of the pills. He crept into the kitchen, snuck up behind Bonnie Sue and said, “Something sure smells good,” patting her butt, causing her to drop a plate of scrambled eggs.
“Crappy-doodle!” she cried. “I didn’t know you was anywhere near. You about scared me out of my wits,” she said, eyeing the spilled eggs she had carefully cooked and placed on the plate just so.
“You won’t ever know when I coming. I can sneak up on a rattlesnake. I learned that while I was in Vietnam. And don’t worry about the eggs. All I need is a cup of black coffee.”
“You was in Vietnam?” Bonnie Sue asked as she poured the coffee. She carried the cup to the table and sat down beside Lance. She cleared her throat as she twisted a strand of hair hanging over her ear. Lance smiled and pinched her cheek. She blushed as if Lance’s touch had set her insides on fire.
Still smiling, Lance said, “Yep, I spent eight years in Nam. I got to kill me a few commie bastards. But I don’t like to talk about all that.”
“You was in Vietnam for eight years? I thought a person only had to stay two years. How come ya was there so long?
“Because I kept re-upping. I loved the smell of fear and death all around me. I’d planned on making the Army my career, but I had a first sergeant who took a dislike to me. So after eight years of his bullshit, I got out. I figure I did my fair share of killing.”
“Oh, dear,” Bonnie Sue said. “I didn’t know ya smell fear. And ya say ya liked it? And ya liked the smell of death? I hate to hear ya killed, but that’s what happens in a war. I don’t mean to judge ya, but I just can’t see anybody liking it.”
Lance was amused by the shocked look on her face. “I can smell fear, just like animals do. Yeah, I liked the thrill of the kill too. I’m a natural born warrior.”
Bonnie Sue squirmed in her seat, a bit of fear in her eyes and Lance chuckled. “So do ya wanna hear more about my time in the jungles?”
“Nah, I think I’ve heard enough.” She chewed on the end of a strand of hair. Then she blurted, “Ya know, Miss Hampton always said she bet that’s where you was. She said she figured you’d want to serve your country. She talked about ya a lot, but if I mentioned ya, she’d get madder than a hornet. I never could figure that out. She’d probably be furious if she knew you was here with me, alone.”
“Bonnie Sue! I’ve heard all I want to hear about ole Ruby! Now shut the hell up!”
“Sorry. I won’t mention her again. But did ya know that Mr. Wiggins up and died about two years ago?
“How would I know about anything that’s happened around here? I’ve been gone, ya know. I do hate to hear it though. He was the only male figure I had in my life when I was around these parts. I really looked up to him. I clung to his every word. I’da done anything he told me to.” Lance shook his head. “I reckon I did, too.”
“I’m glad ya had him for a friend, then. I ain’t never had a man in my life. I reckon I missed a lot, but that’s how it is sometimes.”
Lance had tuned out Bonnie Sue. Other ideas were swirling through his mind. “Say, is it okay if I borrow ole Ruby’s car?”
Bonnie Sue’s eyes danced as though his playful jest had sent a thrill through her whole body. “Yeah, sure you can. I’ll get the keys,” she said, hurrying into Miss Hampton’s bedroom; the room she had been using since Miss Hampton had been in Rest Haven. She hurried back into the kitchen. “I’ll go open the shed and get the car out for you,” she said, heading for the back door.
“Bonnie Sue, damn! I can open the shed and back the car out myself. Will you perch somewhere and be still? You make me a nervous wreck. I’m not a nice person when I get nervous,” he said, snatching the keys from her hand and heading out the back door.
Bonnie Sue was looking out the opened window as Lance walked toward the shed. He heard her mumble. “You’re right about not being nice at times. Sometimes, you’re a real shit-ass.”
Lance chuckled, opened the shed, eyed the gold Impala, clean and waxed, then opened the car door and slid behind the steering wheel. He ran his hand across the red fabric seat. “Smooth. Nice ride,” he said, checking his reflection in the rearview mirror. Then he turned on the radio, adjusted the speakers to the rear, backed out of the shed, circled around it just for the hell of it, then sped up the lane.
Out on the main highway, he switched off the radio, gripped the top of the steering wheel with his right hand, resting his left elbow on the open window, his hand resting against the top of the car, drumming his fingers as he loudly whistled Dixie.
***
Kitty Mae had dozed off and on through the night, excitement and love filling her heart. “My boy is coming. I’m finally going to see him and hug him again!”
By six o’clock in the morning, she got out of bed and headed for the kitchen, needing coffee, hoping the caffeine would help ward off the migraine coming on.
Lucy was in the kitchen filling the old percolator with water. Lucy was afflicted with scoliosis. She turned toward her sister and asked, “You couldn’t sleep, huh? I’ve been awake all night too. My heart aches for you, Sister. I don’t think your boy is gonna come.”
Kitty Mae held up her hand and adamantly stated, “Oh yeah, my boy is gonna come. I’ve got a lot of explaining to do, and with God’s help, I’m going do it, if it kills me. I’ve been carrying too many secrets too long.”
She sipped her coffee, her mind visualizing her precious son. Then she rose from the chair, saying, “I’ve gotta get myself ready. Can I borrow some of your rouge and maybe a little lipstick? I ironed the new dress I made, and I’m gonna look as good as I can when my boy sees me for the first time.” She drew a deep breath. “Today is the day of reckoning. And I hope the truth will set me free.”
Chapter Twenty
Lance reached the city limits and said, “An old grocery store cowboy can find anybody in these parts.” He turned onto Plum Street, scanned the houses, and found the address that Kitty Mae had given him. He pulled the car over to the curb and stared at the rundown, square shaped house. At one time it had been painted bright yellow, but the paint had blistered and peeled. The two steps leading to the front door were lopsided and almost touched the ground on the right side. The yard was mostly dirt with a few sprouts of grass sticking up here and there. “What a dump,” he said, and the bitter taste of bile rose in his throat.
He stepped from the car, squared his shoulders, and walked up the cracked, sunken sidewalk that led to the front door. Sweat soaked his clothes and his head was pounding. He looked downward as if he wanted to ask his feet where they were going.
He heard a high-pitched sound. He jerked his head upward, his heart raced, and he had the urge to run and never stop until the squealing witch who was coming toward him with open arms had dropped dead from exhaustion. He blinked, the bright sun hurting his eyes, then he heard another squeal.
Oh God, two of them.
Kitty Mae’s arms were outstretched as she cried, “Lance! My boy!”
Lucy was on Kitty Mae’s heels. She wasn’t reaching for Lance, but she was squealing like a pig that had been picked up by the tail.
Kitty Mae threw her bony arms around Lance’s neck. “I knew you would come—” She stopped in mid-sentence. Lance was as stiff as a board and he looked upward as if he were praying the earth would open up and swallow him.
Kitty Mae backed up a step and dropped her arms to her side. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rush you. I’m your mama, and this is your aunt Lucy,” she said, doing a half turn.
Lucy was peering out from behind her sister like a bashful child who was scared of strangers.
Lance merely grunted.
“Come on in the house,” Kitty Mae said, leading the way up the lopsided steps.
Lance followed Kitty Mae as if an invisible force were pulling him along. She passed through the small living room and headed straight for the kitchen, where she pulled a chrome chair from the red Formica table top with chrome legs. “Sit yourself down, son, make yourself comfortable,” she said, pulling on her dress as if she thought her slip might be showing.
“Can I get you a glass of iced tea?” Lucy asked, scurrying across the floor.
Lance thought she looked like a hunchback rat searching for crumbs.
“Yeah, fine,” Lance answered. He hated tea but he had no intention of drinking it anyway. He just wanted to get out of that house and get as far away as he could from the two strange women. But first he wanted some answers.
He slowly sank into the chair that Kitty Mae had pulled out. She was sitting across from him. He stared into her pitiful face, seeing the sadness of a hard life, and the happiness of seeing him. He warned himself, I’ve got be tough. I’m a goddamn warrior. I don’t have a soft spot.
Kitty Mae’s and Lance’s eyes locked as she said, “When Kitty Mae Jackson-Aldridge talks, she makes eye contact. Only cowards and liars look away from a face when they’re talking.” She smiled and said, “You’re handsome beyond anything I could have imagined. You remind me of your Uncle Thomas, the most handsome man in North Carolina, in his time. It sure is nice to see ya in a suit, too. Not many young men know how to dress anymore.”
Lucy placed the glass of iced tea in front of Lance, and another glass in front of Kitty Mae. “I’ll leave you two be,” she meekly said, tucking her head and backing away from the table.
Kitty Mae reached toward her. “No, sister. You have a seat beside me. I ain’t got nothin’ to hide from him, and I want you to back me up. You know the truth. The God-almighty truth, such as it is,” she said, her voice breaking. “If I pass the test here on earth, then maybe I’ll pass it when I stand before my Lord.”
She rested her bony arms on the tabletop and began her story. “The sun was brightly shining over the mountains, welcoming another day. I was a sixteen-year-old, barefoot girl walking up a dirt lane...”
Lance glared at Kitty Mae. “I don’t give a shit about what kind of day it was, and I know about the dirt lane that leads to Hampton House!”
Kitty Mae answered, “It’s important to me to tell it all. I want you to get a picture of that day. The same picture that I’ve lived with for all these years. You can ask questions when I’m done.”
“Then get on with it already. My patience is wearing thin,” he said, glaring at her as if he wanted to reach across the table and strangle her.
As Kitty Mae continued, her eyes glazed over as if she hadn’t heard Lance. “Birds chirped sweet music, but I heard nothing but the pounding of my heart. I stood in front of the house for a few seconds, wondering if I could make my feet that felt so weighted down go up the three steps. I took a deep breath and mumbled, ‘Lord give me the strength.’
Kitty Mae and Lucy wiped their tears and the story continued. “I kissed you on the forehead, and lovingly whispered, ‘Bye, my sweet baby. I love ya. I’ll be back to get ya—someday.’”
Lance banged his fist on the table and growled, “But you never did! I waited eighteen years—”
Kitty Mae held up her hand as if it were a stop sign. “I’m going to get to that part, but you need the whole background of that day. Now mind your manners!”
Lance jerked his body erect and blinked, but words seem to freeze in his mouth as Kitty Mae cleared her throat and continued. Lance wiped his hand over his face and sighed with boredom, but she ignored him. “When I saw the front door open, I held my hand over my mouth to keep from crying out loud.”
“Come on, already,” Lance said with bitterness and leaned forward, his eyes as cold as steel.
Kitty Mae just gave him a sharp look.
“Are you done with the bullshit?” Lance growled. “I want some answers to a lot of questions!” His eyes felt like glowing embers as his temper rose.
“I know you do, so you just go ahead and ask them,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Lance stared into Kitty Mae’s eyes and gritted his teeth as he yelled, “Who is my daddy?” He banged his fist on the table so hard it shook the glasses of iced tea.
Lucy flinched and whimpered like a frightened child.
Kitty Mae flinched, but her eyes held a defiant stare. “If you want the story, don’t yell—and listen.”
Lance tucked his head. Kitty Mae’s voice seemed to take the wind from his sails. And he wondered why.
Kitty Mae cleared her throat, sucked in a deep breath as if she were scared the words would stick in her throat, then quickly blurted, “Your daddy is your granddaddy, my daddy.”
Lance blinked and shook his head. “My what is what your what?” His brain seemed to beat against his skull, dulling his senses, and his vision blurred.
Kitty Mae held her stare. “You heard me. I won’t repeat it.”
Lance noticed the sweat running down her face and nape, soaking her hair. He grabbed the glass of iced tea and downed the liquid. It could have been laced with carbolic acid instead of lemon, and he wouldn’t have known the difference.
Kitty Mae twisted the tablecloth as she continued. “You wanted the truth so here it is. Old Rob Roy, your daddy, my daddy, had a go at me every night after Mama got sick and had to go to the TB hospital. He was a drunk, and he drunk even more after Mama left. He told me I was the oldest and I had to be the woman of the house and do the wifely duties.”
“Well, sweet Jesus!” Lance said. “I’ve heard enough already.
I don’t need the gory details.”
“Well, you’re gonna hear it all. You need to know what my life was like and how ya came to be,” Kitty Mae said, and wiped her eyes. “I tried to get away from him, but he was strong and mean as the devil, and he would hold me down and have his way with me.” She cleared her throat and drew in a deep breath. “Almost every night.”
Lucy’s voice shook a bit, but she managed to say, “Nobody said no to Rob Roy. He’d kill a person for going against him. I could hear sister screaming and begging, but, well, I couldn’t help her. I was too scared.” Lucy broke into sobs and started twisting her hair.
Lance thought Lucy’s eyes were begging forgiveness from Kitty Mae, still.
Kitty Mae patted Lucy’s hand. “It’s okay, sister. I know ya couldn’t do anything. He’d a beat ya black and blue if you’d a tried. And ya was just twelve-years old and no match for the likes of him. Okay, love?” she said, wiping a tear from Lucy’s face.
Lucy straightened as far as she could with her crooked spine, and blurted, “If I had just been a little braver and a quick thinker, I could have snuck up and lit fire to his big fat hairy ass while he was on top of ya.”
Lucy smiled, her statement bringing her great pleasure, and Kitty Mae smiled back at her.
Lance felt his stomach churn. He fought the urge to vomit. Jesus Christ. My daddy is also my granddaddy. He wiped away the sweat running down his face. The cracker-box house was hot as hell. There was no air conditioning, not even a fan. Through the years he had thought of many scenarios, pictured them in his mind, but what he was hearing didn’t come close.
Kitty Mae blinked over and over as fresh tears ran down her face, as if she wanted her tears to wash away the nightmare she had relived for many years. “I just turned sixteen years old when ya was born. I gave birth to ya in the old rundown shack, and sister was the only person there to help me. Aunt Lucy is the one who cut your cord,” she said.
