Come Home

Home (ch 2)

Chapter Two


Home


    At six years old, everything in a girl's life is an adventure. However, we were living in a time of electricity and all the luxuries of modern life. Up until then, the most excitement I had was searching for my cat who wondered off about three years before..  Oh boy, was that about to change!


    My dad came home all glowing with a good idea on how to save money. He told mom about a house that we could rent (from the same landlord who we were currently renting from). It would be a trade. We would live in the old house, fix it up, and protect it from vandals,in exchange our rent would be free. Sounds good right? Since my parents had three little girls to take care of, and all their needs to be met, Dad readied us for the move.


    The day came, and so did the truck. We packed things in boxes and bags until we had no more to use. Then things were being wrapped in blankets and sheets. We were grabbing our old ragged toys from the rubbish and hiding them inside the packed items to move.


    Dad was not fun when he was busy. His cussing always made us feel as though we were just in the way, but we still did our part. I carried the furniture with my dad (my mom was sick). My two sisters helped her pack and go through things. Mom was bringing nearly everything that we had made or scribbled on with her.


    The trip to the house was interesting. We drove down this long forgotten dirt road straight down a long hill. There we no neighbors in passing, just trees and pot holes . We also noticed that we passed two neglected commentaries. The sides of the damaged road were made beautiful with wild flowers, and my favorite orange lilies (I call them Flags).


    “Is this it?” My four year old sister asked a little disappointed. She was fidgeting to see past my two year old sister who sat on her lap.


    “Yep!” Dad replied as if it were a mansion. Something about this place made Dad's eyes shine with excitement.


    In reality there stood an unpainted, old, two story house. The weeds were so tall that you could only see the second story. There was another thing that we had only seen at our grandmother's home. It was a shabby, lopped-sided out building. That I was soon to learn was a toilet. It was in much worse shape than the one we used at Mammal's.


    Then the girls and I wanted to go out to play and explore the area that would be our yard and hillside. But Mom would not have any part of it. She would not even be able to see the tops of our heads due to the brush and weeds.


    “These kids are not getting out of this truck to be snake bit. They don't  have a path even to the front door.” Mom was always too protective. Shoot, we were not even permitted to play in the rain.


    Dad didn't even say a word. He gets out of the pickup, reaches into the back of the truck, and brings out a cycle. I just knew it at the time as a curved sword. Then he started swinging on those weeds as though we were in the African forest.  Sweat pouring from his hair and dripping from the tip of his nose. His arms tearing each cluster of weeds  and small trees to the ground with a single swoop of the blade. My dad seemed like the strongest man alive to me that day.


    The lawn was interesting. It went from a jungle to a land of fallen twigs. Not the look of a play yard for a family, more like the scene of a field ready for building.  For all purposes, this was a new beginning. A family with hopes and dreams of a much better future (if you looked hard past the historic house and landscape).


    Mom finally said that we could get out of the truck. She instructed us to follow her and dad into the century old house. She was holding so tight to my baby sister's hand that Sis had to pull hard to be able to explore. It was amazing in a McCob way. We knocked the spiders' webs down with every step we took. The rooms smelled of dust and dampness. Walked from room to room, door through door, each room was dim without electricity. The old floors creaked under out foot steps.


    Dad asked Mom what room she wanted them to have. She half-heated told him that it didn't matter. (Oh, there is going to be loud words tonight with no radio or television to drawn or distract from the anger.) The atmosphere was one of disappointment in all of us. Mom was not impressed, we were nervous, and Dad wanted us to be as excited about our new location as he was.


    Night came early with just the oil lamps to light the rooms. If you were to ask my peers at school what oil lamps were I doubt that they would be able to tell you. The silence is broken by the sound of the crickets and frogs. I watched the flickering of the flaming wick casting its shadows on the paneling walls. I expected a blow out between my parents tonight, but I guess they were to tired to fight.


    "What if the lamp falls? Will we all burn up?" asks my middle sister from across our sleeping youngest sister, Sis. She was now holding her head up with her chin in her hand.


    "We would smell the smoke before anyone would get hurt." I answered. Feeling that she was not convinced of her safety, I began to tell her a story. This had become my nightly routine since I was about four. The newness of the place gave my stories new direction. Now this one took place in the woods instead of a palace. The main character was a little girl looking for her pet instead of the usual prince finding his be-loved. She lays her head on her pillow, and I begin to hear her drift off.


    I pull Sis close to me and kiss her little cheek. She snuggles right up with me. I am not sure if this is to make her feel secure or myself feel close to a person.


    Sis was a child that did not talk for her dolls, she did not like people that she did not know. Beside family members, there were few that knew her eye color or the sound of her voice. She had bright blue eyes, and most people would say that she looked a lot like me. We both had long brown hair, and she kept her hair up in the same way that I did. She was what we would call now days my “mini me.” I got to sleep with the sound of crickets, shadows of the lamp, and the fragrance of the baby shampoo coming from my sister's hair.


    In the night, I pull for the cover. I find that I am covered, but I am still very cold on this July night. I open my eyes and see someone sitting in the moon light of our window. It looked as though Mom was looking out the window, but before I could speak to her she was gone. Be six, I just pulled the covers over my head to keep warm and went back to sleep.


    Opening my eyes the next morning, I had forgotten that we had moved. I was surprised by our new surroundings. Smelling chocolate gravy and biscuits (a treat from time to time for breakfast), I sleeplessly stagger into the dinning room. Both sisters were waiting for my arrival at the table so that they could eat.


    "Where is Dad?" I ask as I sit between my sisters. That was my place no matter where we ate to stop them from fighting.


    "He is gathering wood for the stove so that we can always cook." Mom replies.


    "Mom, why were you sitting in our window last night? Were you and Dad fighting?"


    She looks at me puzzled. "You must have been dreaming because of being in a new place."


    Sis buts in. "No, her name is Sara."


    I ask her, "How do you know."


    "Grandpa told me. She lived here after the fire." She said as if she had been talking to a life long friend.


    "Really," Mom thinks that she is playing along with Sis. "You should ask him to visit the rest of us some time."


    None of mom's children had met her or dad's father. They were both gone before we came into this world. Mom just shrugs this off as Sis wishing she had a grand father like other children her age did.


         I have to know more, “Who is Sara?” I asked her. I knew that Sis did not make up stories. She barely spoke.


         Sis looks at me as if I should know. “She is the woman looking out our window. She was waiting for the doctor to bring medicine to her sick baby.” Sis answers me with the confidence that I should have known the lady standing in the moon light. “Grandpa told me about her. All her babies died, and she wanted to save the last one. He told me that she would always be waiting for the cure to save Ada. He says that it will never come.”


         I did not know what to say to her story. Rose did however. She and Sis always fought about something. "You don't know Papal. He has died a long time ago, and there was no woman in the window."


                   Mom tapped Rose on the arm. "Rose, be good to your sister." Mom did not want Sis worked up since she had to spend much of her young days in the hospital with health problems. The first year of her life we didn't know if Sis would be with us at this age, and it was still questioned if she would make it to adulthood.


         "Well," Rose protests. "I did not see a woman in the window."


         "I thought that I did." I stated.


         "I didn't see her. I was a sleep, but Papal told me about her." Sis said with tears growing in her eyes from anger. "I don't care if you believe me." She shot Rose a look that would wound if it were a knife.


         I stay behind and help Mom lift the boiling water from the pot bellied stove and empty it into the tin dish pans. We had to get dishes done before we were aloud to go outside to play. Mom did all the work. I just handed her the dishes. When we were finished, Mom gave me a hug then went back to reading her novel. Rose is playing with our dog Blunder (named for his clumsiness as a puppy), and I decided to go into the other room to play with my baby sister.


         When I opened the door, I stood there in awe for a few minutes. Sis was sitting on the floor holding he favorite doll. It looked as though she was playing fish, but she was playing alone. That was my first thought.


         "Why can't Mom see you?" She asked as she lay down a pair of 3's. "No, Momma would like you. She likes everyone."


         I still listen. I was too afraid to move toward my baby sister not knowing if she was in danger or not. The conversation continues. I could only hear and see my sister. The draft that came from the room was damp and cold. It was different than the air in the room behind me. The kitchen was warm almost hot from the cooking and clean up.


         Then I watched a pair of 8's float through six inches of nothing and land on the floor in front of my sister. I run into the room grabbing her. As I pulled her out one door, I could see the door at the other end of the room close as if someone had just exited there.


         Sis is pushing me away. "What is wrong with you?" Mom comes running toward us. She looked stunned not knowing if we had gotten hurt or what the deal was.


         "Sis was playing fish." I stuttered out.


         "She is known to play alone." Mom replied.


         "NO! She was playing with someone that I could not see." I proclaimed.


         "I was playing with Papal." Sis tells as though he had been a flesh and blood grandparent playing with her.


         "Mom, it was just like I said. The other door opened and closed too." I said as I stared into my mother's eyes.


         "Matilda, the kitchen door blew open. It was what caused a vacuum to close the other door." She explained. Giving us both hugs. "Go outside and play." She added, "Stay where I can see you."


         While playing, I looked to the upstairs window above our bedroom. There sat a woman. She was brushing her long hair. I could not tell the color of her dress or hair. The whole silhouette was bright shinning white. She looked as if she was watching us play. She did not seem terrifying at all, but she disappeared when I tried to bring her to my sisters attention.


         That night I told no stories. I used thread from mom's sewing kit and two sticks and formed a cross. I placed it by my bed to protect me and my siblings. For extra security, I slept with my Bible clutched to my chest.


         No this night I did not forget to say my prayers.


         








My words are ways to leave peices of myself behind for my children.

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