Grammy said nothing while Awsty sat, staring through the lace-curtained window. She could see Awesome Beauty was thinking something through. She had no intention of prying it out of the girl. She would wait until her granddaughter was ready to share. Minutes passed. Finally, with a deep inhale of breath, quickly expelled, Awsty turned to directly face her grandmother. “Grammy, I’m not a… well… you know anymore. I took off my purity ring after the first time, packed it away in my backpack, and can’t even bring myself to look at it long enough to throw it in a trash bin.”
“Sweet Awesome, I love ya, and more importantly, Jesus does. No matter what ya’ve done.”
“I find that very hard to believe, when I hate myself so much.”
“So, what d’ya want ta do ’bout all this?”
“Grammy, weren’t you listening? I just told you how helpless and hopeless I am.”
“Actually, I think what ya told me is that yer fed up with bein’ in charge o’ yer own life and sure wish somebody else would take over.”
“Grammy, if you start in on that Jesus-stuff again, I think I’m going to just start crying all over again.”
“Ok, what would you like ta do about all of it?”
“I don’t know. I only know that I need to make some radical changes in my life. I was hoping you could help me. Got any ideas?”
“Yeah, I’m full ‘o ideas. Can I share ‘em with ya?” She was not only thinking of ideas, but the niggling reality that Awesome Beauty needed to hear about her mother’s death. She quickly asked the Lord’s help as she prepared to reveal the circumstances of her mother’s demise.
“Yeah, but first let me go get a Dr Pepper and some chips. I have a feeling this is going to take some time. Am I right?”
“Ya know y’are!”
Chapter 4
“Awesome Beau…”
“Grammy, I go by Awsty. Please call me that. Awesome Beauty is too long and people have made fun of it as far back as I can remember. That’s one reason why I go by Awsty now.”
“What’s the other reason?”
“Because the name doesn’t fit who I am. It doesn’t describe me and who I am at all.”
‘I think it fits ya perfectly, Sweetheart.”
“Thank you, Grammy, but I really want to be called Awsty.”
“How d’ya spell that? O-S-T-I-E?”
“No… A-W-S-T-Y.”
“How’d ya come up with that?”
Awsty explained to her hurriedly that it came from different parts of her actual name and that she’d changed to the nickname in third grade.
“Well, I’ve seen ya since third grade. I never heard anyone call ya that.”
“They did at school. It just took longer for neighborhood kids, well, actually anyone who wasn’t in school with me. Whatever made my mother name me that is a mystery to me. She musta been drunk or drugged up. She…”
“Aweso… Awsty, good or bad, yer talkin’ about yer mother. Not for her sake, but fer yers, ya need to speak about ‘er in a respectful tone.”
“Why should I?! She never showed me anything but indifference. I would have been much better off if she’d let social services take me and have me go live with a foster family. Not today, maybe, but one of these days I’m gonna go tell her what I think of her and her parenting skills! It’s mostly her fault that I’m so messed up!”
Grammy hung her head, and began kneading her hands. She said nothing, but Awsty could see her looking around the room. She didn’t seem to be focused on anything, but more like she was trying to figure something out.
“Grammy, are you ok? I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.”
“Awsty, I been tryin’ to figur’ out how to go ‘bout tellin’ ya this, and I can’t think of no way ta do it, but to just do it…”
“Grammy?”
Sweet Child, yer momma died… last June. The sixteenth.”
There was no reaction, at least none that registered on her face. Her expression was totally devoid of any emotion at all.
“How?”
“Heroin.”
Still no reaction from Awsty.
“Who found her?”
“A friend ‘o hers.”
“Where?”
“In ‘er trailer, on the bed. I know the friend’s first name… Lea. But I don’t know ‘er last name or anythin’ ’bout ‘er. The police came an’ got ‘er when Lea called ‘em from a neighbor’s trailer. The police said they didn’t know fer sure, but thought that both of them had taken drugs the night before, but Lea woke up the next mornin’ from her drug stupor and found yer momma. She had died sometime durin’ the night.”
“Buried or cremated?”
“Cremated. I didn’t have money to bury her and the county wasn’t willin’ to pay the extra charges fer a burial. “
“Where’s the urn?”
Awsty still registered no emotional reactions at all across her face. And, if it was possible, the only thing Grammy could see had changed was Awsty’s facial pallor, which had faded to an even whiter shade than it was when she arrived yesterday, even though she wasn’t wearing any of the pale makeup and powder she’d worn then.
“Aweso… Awsty, are ya ok, Sweetheart?”
Awsty ignored the question and asked again, “Where’s the urn?”
“The associate pastor helped me. I didn’t know what to do with ‘er ashes. He suggested we go to the beach and scatter ‘em in the ocean. He and his wife drove me there. It was on a Saturday. Since it was several hours away, they brought a picnic. The three of us went t’gether. Pastor Greg read the Bible. Grace, his wife, threw some flowers in the ocean and said a few words ‘o comfort, then I scattered the ashes inside the circle ‘o floatin’ flowers. Then, they went back ta the blanket and waited ‘til I was ready ta come back too. We had a quiet lunch t’gether, then turned ‘round and came right back home. Pastor Greg needed ta get back fer church the next mornin’. Oh… Pastor Greg asked if I wanted ta keep the urn, but when I said no, he put it in the trunk ‘o his car, and I don’t know what he did with it. Probably threw it away, so that I wouldn’t hafta.”
Awsty turned her blank, emotionless face toward the curtained window and sat for a moment or two looking through the sheer lace. Since there was nothing in particular to watch outside, Grammy assumed she was just staring into space while she tried to process all she’d learned today.
After no more than a couple of minutes, she turned back to Grammy, shrugged her shoulders in resignation, took a deep breath, exhaled, then said, “Ok.”
“I’m sa sorry, Sweetheart. I know this must be a shock. D’ya want some time alone in yer room and we’ll talk later today about other things?”
“No, we’d better talk about life from this point on, and just stuff in general. For example, am I allowed to stay here with you for a while? And, if I do stay, how do I pay you back for letting me live in the spare room? Or did you want me to find another place right away? Just need to plan stuff, Grammy.”
Grammy was confounded by her nonchalance over the news of her mother’s death. Didn’t she care? Was she just processing? Did she just plan to mourn later alone in her room?
Chapter 5
“Ok, so I can stay for a while if I get a part-time job, get some sort of training or school that will help me get a better job somewhere down the road, and help with cleaning the apartment, and do some cooking?”
“Ya fergot about Sunday church services. Both hours. Sunday school and church worship service. And yep, that’s it.”
Awsty was already winding up for the battle. Grammy could see her clench her fists, and set her jaw. Oh, boy. This was going to be war!
“I’m in for everything but the Sunday church thing. That stuff isn’t for me. I’ll plan to stay home those days and have Sunday dinner ready for the both of us by the time you get home.”
Grammy didn’t mean to, but she smiled. This child thinks she’s going to set the rules in my home.
“Well, no, Sweetheart. Ya�
��ll be goin’ with me. I don’t need ya ta stay home and fix dinner. I always make somethin’ in the crockpot on Sunday morning fer dinner in the mid-afternoon. Although, yer welcome to get up early and help me prepare the ingredients, if ya like.
“But, ya can make yer own decision whether ya wanna go to nine-thirty a.m. worship service, then go to the college Sunday school class. Or, if you would rather go to the Singles Sunday school class first hour, then…”
“Grammy, I told you a few minutes ago that I don’t plan to go to church at all on Sundays.”
“Sweetheart, I’m not used to havin’ someone in my home with me. I’m alone a lot, so I think sometimes I’ve forgotten how ta talk with people. What I’m saying is that it’s a package deal. The part-time job, schoolin’ of some sort, helpin’’ me with cleanin’ and cookin’, and… Sunday church services. Both hours. It’s an all-or-nothin’ deal.”
“Well, I’m willing to go with you sometimes. They’ll be Thanksgiving, and then there’s Christmas, and stuff. And, of course, Easter, if I’m still here then.”
Wow! She’s not gonna give up without a fight !
“Awsty, Sweetheart, ya’ll be goin’ every Sunday, unless yer sick… or dead.” She grinned when she said the words “ or dead.” She hoped it would lighten things up. But, it didn’t. In fact, Awsty became almost enraged. Her voice grew loud as she began, “You mean to tell me…”
“Awsty,” interrupted Grammy, “before ya go on, please lower yer voice.”
Awsty was now incensed . She was actually screaming, “… that I have to go…”
Grammy stood up and looked down at Awsty. “I asked ya to lower yer voice. I’m willin’to listen to anything ya have ta say, but ya’ll do it in a respectful tone and at a reasonable sound level.” She then stood there silently while Awsty made her decision what to do. It was fight or flight! And she quickly decided she’d fight to the death!
Clinching her teeth, Awsty more quietly said, “I’m sorry. I’m not used to speaking with people a lot either. But, Grammy, I’m not going to church with you every Sunday. I’ll adhere to all the other rules, but not this one. I’m an adult and that is a decision I’ll make for myself.” She sat there and just looked up to her grandmother, directly in the eyes. When Grammy’s eyes didn’t veer from her own, it was Awsty who looked away first.
“Then I am heartbroken ya won’t be livin’ here with me. I’ll miss ya more than ya’ll ever know. And, Awsty, I’ll always love ya.” Tears began rolling down her cheeks. She couldn’t stop them, but neither did she wipe them with the ever-present handkerchief always tucked in a pocket of her housedress. She continued to look directly at Awsty.
“You mean you’d rather toss me out when I have no place to go, than allow me to stay home on Sunday mornings.”
“No, I mean it’ll break my heart that somethin’ so small an inconvenience ta ya would make ya decide ta leave a home where someone loves ya so dearly, and wants so much ta give ya the love ya’ve been deprived of fer so long.”
Maybe two or three minutes passed before either one spoke again. Grammy, finally seated, was still watching Awsty, and Awsty was yet again looking out the lace curtains. Grammy could tell that this child was really agonizing over whatever decision she would make.
Awsty knew she was stuck, at least for a while, until she could find other living arrangements. But she could at least kind of win this match.
“Ok, I’ll go to Sunday church until I can find another place to live. It may be a few days, so I’ll go with you tomorrow.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful! I’m so glad ya’ll stay a little longer.
“Well, I’ve got stuff ta do today, Sweetheart, so I’ll leave ya ta get yer room set up, yer clothes either in the closet or the chest ‘o drawers, and put yer toiletries in the bathroom, under the sink. Later on, I’ll clear some room fer ya in the medicine cabinet for anythin’ ya might wanna store in there. ‘K… let’s see. I guess that’s all I can think of right now. Just make yerself ta home. Oh, ‘fore I forget, you’ll need to be ready to leave fer church at nine-fifteen in the mornin’. I just walk. It’s so close. Oh… ya already know that. Sometimes I forget that ya went there sometimes with me when ya was little. It’s changed some. It’s grown and there’s a new larger worship center. It’s really a beautiful place ta worship.”
With those closing comments, Grammy walked out the door and into the kitchen. Pots and pans almost immediately started clanging.
Grammy may have thought she’d won, but Awsty’s brain was already in gear as Grammy was walking away. So, you say that I don’t have to go to church if I’m sick? Ok. Fake cough, sniffle. She did it just loud enough that Grammy could barely hear it. I think I can come up with some malady between now and nine-fifteen a.m. tomorrow. The big question is what? A cold? A really sore throat? A terrible stomach ache? Yep, I can definitely feel something’ comin’ on!
Awsty just grinned as she made her way to her bedroom.
Chapter 6
The morning broke with dreary skies. There wasn’t supposed to be any rain, though, but little did anyone suspect at that moment a storm was brewing inside Awsty that would culminate in an emotional and spiritual outburst inside Open Door of Faith, the church that Grammy had gone to for over twenty-five years.
Grammy woke up early. The morning was chilly. After putting her long robe and warm slippers on, she made a quick stop to the bathroom, then straight on to the kitchen, where she began making breakfast for the two of them.
Grammy wanted to make a special breakfast to show her that Grammy hadn’t forgotten Awsty’s favorite breakfast meal. The few and far between times that she had been at Grammy’s on a Sunday morning, she always requested pancakes. But she didn’t want them served conventionally. She wanted them the way Grammy had made them the very first time she had ever prepared them for her. As she began mixing ingredients, she remembered with clarity that first occasion.
Awsty was seven years old and had spent the night with Grammy. It had not been planned between mother and daughter, but it was executed as though it had been.
Awsty’s mom, Regina, had decided to spend the night hours with who-knows-who, and at five-thirty p.m. she walked up to Grammy’s apartment door with Awsty in hand, knocked on the door, looked down at Awsty and said, ‘Behave yerself. I’ll come getcha sometime tomorra.’ No goodbye, no kiss, no hug.
When Regina had turned away and walked down the stairs of Grammy’s apartment, she looked back up. Grammy had not answered the door and Awsty was just standing there dry-eyed and sober-faced, looking down at her. Regina didn’t want anyone to hear her and tell her she couldn’t just leave this young child there alone and take off, so she mouthed to Awsty that she was to just sit down and wait until Grammy got there. When Awsty hadn’t responded quickly enough to suit Regina, she pointed her index finger up at her, got a steely set to her jaw, and very slow mouthed, ‘Sit. Down!” Awsty sat, right there on the cold concrete outside Grammy’s door. And there she remained an hour and a half, until Grammy returned from helping a sick neighbor, by bringing dinner and a little companionship to her while she ate.
‘Awesome Beauty, where’s yer mom? How long ya been sittin’ here waitin’ fer me, Sweetheart?’ she questioned, as she snatched the child up in her arms and carried her into the apartment. Although the temperature was relatively warm outside, Awsty’s little arms and legs felt chilly. Once she got her into the apartment, she placed her on the sofa, covered her with an afghan that had been thrown across its back, and made her some hot chocolate.
As Awsty drank the chocolaty brew, she said not one word. So, Grammy talked.
‘What’s wrong with yer mother? Yer too young to be left alone. Thank ya, Jesus, that ya brought me home quickly. Is yer mother comin’ back tonight? Or are ya stayin’ with me? Did ya bring any clothes with ya? Doesn’t look like it. Well, I have sum warm jammies ya can wear, and a toothbrush and brush ya kin use.’
Realizing that Awesome Beauty was hearing eve
ry word of Grammy’s ramblings, she now focused entirely on Awesome Beauty.
‘Oh, boy,’ she forced from her lips, ‘yer stayin’ with me tonight! I’m so excited! We can watch some cartoons, if there is any, and we’ll eat popcorn… ‘ Her words had sort of faded out by this point, and she just sat there looking into the eyes of this neglected, unloved little girl, from which not one word came.
Awesome Beauty had slept soundly that entire night. When morning came, Grammy decided to make her something special for breakfast. She was thinking she’d make her some pancakes. While mixing the ingredients, she happened to look over on the kitchen counter where a very black speckled banana resided. Rather than throw it away later that day, she mashed it up and literally threw it into the pancake batter. When it was time to serve them, Grammy realized she didn’t have any pancake syrup, so she opted for a whole different presentation.
Cutting each of the two banana pancakes into four equal pieces, she placed them around the edges of the plate, like a picture frame. After smearing each triangle with a thin layer of peanut butter, she placed them back into their positions.
It was at this moment Grammy had looked over at Awesome Beauty, who was watching spellbound, with her little mouth hanging agape in awe… or complete confusion! Maybe a little of both. Opening the cabinet that held most of her scant supply of food stuffs, she grabbed a three-quarters empty bag of powdered sugar. Covering the entire breakfast plate in a layer of the sweet ‘snow,’ including the empty middle center of the plate, it was now finished. Well… almost!
Grammy reached over and took Awesome Beauty’s little hand, and after folding down all but her index finger, she guided the little limp digit into making a smile and two eyes in the middle of the plate. At first, Awesome Beauty just looked at the plate with a question in her eyes. When very little response came from her, Grammy thought perhaps she didn’t know it was a face unless all the features were drawn in. So, she took hold of the little powdered-sugar covered finger again and made a nose right there in the middle.
Awesome Beauty actually giggled. It was small, and only half-hearted, but Grammy would take it just the same. After licking her sugar-coated finger, Awesome Beauty whole-heartedly grabbed the fork next to the plate and speared her first very generous-sized bite. Before the bite entered Awesome’s mouth, Grammy quickly took hold of the fork-wielding hand and stopped it in mid-action. While holding it softly in mid-air, Grammy simply bowed her head, closed her eyes, and said, “Thank ya, Jesus.” That was it. No big long involved prayer, complete with intercession for every saint Grammy knew or knew of, no salvation message interspersed, no ‘pleading the blood’ over countless problems and negative situations. Just three words that showed appreciation for the food. Grammy had never said it was for the food, but even Awesome Beauty knew it was.
Becoming His Awesome Beauty: Volume 1 Page 2
