THE HOUSE INSIDE ME

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THE HOUSE INSIDE ME Page 26

by Camelia Wheatley


  “The night you went to the river…” she paused and fought back tears. She began to shake and stutter, barely able to speak.

  “Meg. What is it? If you’re worried about me, I’m fine. I’m getting help. It’s okay,” I said, worried about her. It was unusual for Meg to express any form of emotion. “Just tell me.” My heart suspended in my chest.

  “Okay, okay. It’s not you, it’s me. I can do this. I can. Shhhhit. I get so crybaby when I’m drunk!” Her hands pressed hard on the carpet and the anticipation was killing me.

  “I knew about Mark,” she said, “I knew what he did to you before you told me.”

  “What?” I said, confused. “How? What do you mean you knew? I never told anyone. Wait, wait a minute, did Mark spread it around school? How did you hear about it?” My heart beat fast as if I was in junior high again.

  “No. No, Cass. Just listen. Calm down. It’s not that way. I heard you sneak out. You were never good at it. I thought you were going to meet the guys at the river as usual, and I had a crush on Terry, so I wanted to go but I didn’t think you’d let me, so I waited a while.”

  “Terry?”

  “Yes. I know, crazy, huh? He was so nice, nothing like the other guys. I waited then I headed through the woods down the trail. It was scary as hell. I jumped a thousand times when I heard noises. And I got lost and off the trail a bit, because at night it looks different and I had a tiny flashlight, so that scared the bejesus out of me, so I turned around and went back to the beginning, and thank God, I found it or y’all would still be looking for me. Ha-ha. Anyway, I reckon it was an hour, maybe after you left, I lost track of time. I was almost there, or close when I heard you screaming. It scared me to death. It was pitch dark except for the flashlight and the critter sounds in the woods seemed to scream with your scream, which made it worse. I just took off running as fast as I could. I got to the edge of the woods where I saw the fire, but no one was there, only Mark’s car. I kept walking toward the noises and then I heard you louder.”

  Meg started crying suddenly as she remembered. I cried with her, because I knew what she saw. God help me, I knew, she knew. I closed my eyes and tried to hold it together, but knowing that my sister witnessed such a horrible event, made it ten times worse.

  It’s as if we both were reliving a nightmare.

  “You were screaming NO over and over.” Meg’s lips were quivering hard now, so much her voice was shaky. “I—I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I wanted to help. Do something, but I couldn’t move. My God, Cass, it was like I was out of my body or something. Maybe in shock. I don’t know.” Hearing Meg speak took me back. I felt woozy. Disoriented till I thought I might black out. Float to the void upwards where all is numb. No feelings. No tears. Just nothingness.

  “The next thing I know, Cass, I’m running like the wind back to the house. I didn’t stop till I got there, then I called Snuff.”

  “Youuuu WHAT?” I shouted.

  “I called Snuff. He was half-asleep and I was so out of breath and babbling, he thought it was a prank at first. But when I said your name, he woke up really quick. Snuff and Pepper were on their way. I ran back down the trail as fast as I could and cut through to the dirt road where Snuff said they’d meet me. I had been running for a while when I heard a car and saw headlights coming from the river. I knew it was Mark. I don’t know what come over me, Cass, but this dark thing in me, this anger for what he did to you took over. I was scared he would get away with it. Then I saw a thick tree branch, still green, half the size of a two-by-four. I grabbed it. The next thing I know, I’m standing in the middle of the road holding a branch, possessed of something unnamed. And I was not moving. The grill of his car slid to a stop a few feet from me. The dust cloud made me choke but I didn’t move. I had an angry cry in me, Cass. One of those strange cries from another world. Broken, maddening, animalistic cries for revenge. He stared at me funny from the front seat for what seemed an hour, but I know it was only seconds. Then I screamed for him to get out. But he just laughed. I stormed over to his front windshield and told him on the count of three I was going to start swinging at glass. He got out when he thought his precious car was in danger. I was shaking all over. He could see it too. He kept saying, ‘Well, well, what do we have here?’ Then he said, ‘So you’re the youngest Collard girl, aren’t you? Was it Mug, Mig or Mag?’ I didn’t answer him. I stared a black hole through him as he walked closer. The more he talked with his big fat mouth, the angrier I got. ‘Did you come to join your sister tonight?’ he said. ‘I am lucky. I get two girls in one night? That’s a big ole bowl of collard greens, right there. I like that. A record even for someone like me.’ he said, smirking with this hungry look in his eyes. They were so black it was as if he wasn’t there at all, as if he were something else.

  “That’s when the lights went out.

  “In me. All black. I swallowed the dark.

  “The only sound I could hear in my head was your screams, and all I could see was his smug face, and flashbacks of him forcing his body on you. I snapped like a twig. I remember walking toward him like some battle-drawn soldier and I don’t think he expected it at all, like it was a game or something, which is why he didn’t move. I had a stable target. I think he even laughed at me. Which made me madder. All I remember saying before I swung at his fat head is, ‘My name is Meg, motherfucker.’ The next thing I remember is screeching tires. Then Snuff and Pepper pulling me off him. Mark was writhing in the dirt crying like a baby, all bloodied up. I was a mad porcupine with clawing nails and punching fists and swinging limbs. I was so fueled with adrenaline and anger, Snuff said I went at Mark a second time, and after he got me off, I even wrestled him damn near to exhaustion. That’s why I was in your bed that morning. I wanted to tell you after you got out of the shower, and I tried to, but you were long gone. I could tell.”

  Hot tears streamed down my cheeks. “The scratch on your face, was it from the scuffle?”

  “Yep, but did you see him?” Meg laughed.

  I nodded, remembering that day in the hallway. I felt as if I was there again, facing my enemy. My insides were in knots.

  “Snuff warned Mark if he even so much as glanced your way, Cass, he’d come after him and finish the job.”

  “I can’t believe this,” I said, jarred with emotions. “All these years and I never knew. Why…why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t Snuff say something? This is unbelievable.”

  “Cass, he did. He called and called. Plus, I tried to tell you even days later, but you refused to talk to anyone. You were in your own world of pain. After that, you know, we just grew up and it just never came up. I figured you tried to put it behind you.”

  “Oh, I put it behind me all right,” I said, sighing. When I gathered my wits and came to terms with what Meg had actually done, I grabbed her hands. “Meg. You were so brave. I’m in awe you stood up to him. I guess your mean streak paid off.” I smiled and cried at the same time.

  “I should have done more, Cass. I should have stopped him before…you know…but I just…”

  “Stop it, Meg. There was nothing you could have done to prevent it. Nothing. What you did was the bravest thing I’ve ever heard. I ran into Mark at school and his face looked like a bruised banana. You put a hurt on him. The sumbitch got a pine curtain ass-kicking he’ll never forget. A collard green ass-kicking! I bet every time he sees a tree limb he trembles.” We both cracked up laughing and embraced each other in a long hug of weeping and tears.

  I grabbed the bottle and poured us two shots.

  “I want to make a toast. To three words that were spot on that night.”

  We raised our glasses. “You ready?” I said, looking at Meg gleefully.

  “Yeahhh.”

  “It’s Meg, motherfucker!” I said, laughing. Meg laughed too as we clinked our glasses together and chugged it down. Bitter and sweet memories of our childhood. After the laughing stopped there was the familiar momentary lapse of silence between us, as if we
both had to settle into what we had just revisited. Re-lived. The madness of our past mixed with the mayhem of our memories. I subconsciously braced myself. According to Maw Sue and all her tales, magic always follows mayhem. I had no idea it was fixing to reveal itself in ways unimaginable.

  I got up and zig-zagged to the bathroom. I looked into the mirror a long time. Remembering the little girl, the teenager and the woman, three shadows all emerging into one.

  I returned to the living room, “I’ve had way too many drinks.” I plopped down on the floor and laid my head against the couch cushions while the ceiling tiles spun.

  “Cass…” Meg said in a chilling tone. “I think you’d better have another drink. I have to tell you about Mom.”

  I sprung upward too fast in rebellion. “Hell no,” I said, falling back dizzy. “Seriously, Meg. Not tonight.” I pointed my fingers in the air. “I can’t do mother talks. Only one mother speech a year. You know the rules.” Just the way we differentiated her in our speech was different. I called her Mother, more proper and formal, and it signified our distance apart. Meg called her Mom, more personal and intimate sounding, although I’m not sure they had that kind of relationship either.

  She could talk to Mother in a way that I could not, so maybe that was it. Who knew? I just really didn’t want to drag her into all this tonight. It was the last thing I wanted.

  “Do you want a drink first?”

  “No, Meg. I’m drunk enough. It’s evident you’re going to do this, so just spill it. What is it you have to say about Mother?”

  “Ohh…God, I don’t even know how to start. I mean, it’s complicated…”

  “For the love of baby Jesus, Meg, my whole life is complicated. We just clarified that by the night at the river, okay…so whatever you have to say, couldn’t be worse than that.”

  “Well…I think…. maybe it might, but I just…”

  Meg stuttered and hem hawed around until I snapped my fingers anxiously.

  “Okay, okay. She was molested,” Meg spat.

  There was a long silence as we stared at each other, a familiar unbelievable form of nostalgia without words, spinning cells and molecules inside us trying to find a way to speak the words we knew we needed to say, but couldn’t. I was up inside the House of Seven, absolutely stunned and shocked and trying to find stability in the already complicated mess of my life, my sister’s life and now my mother’s life. It seemed too much to take in.

  “Wait, wait, wait just a second, Meg. Explain yourself. I’m in serious shock right now, okay, so start talking.”

  “I know. I was morbid about it too.” Meg’s eyes darted left to right as if she was trying to locate a semblance of sanity. I could relate.

  “From what Mother told me.”

  “She TOLD you?” I blurted. I was a tad angry, because she never told me squat. In my mind, I saw myself as a child begging for her attention, begging her to talk to me.

  “Do you want to hear the story or not? I’m trying here, Cass.”

  “Sorry, my bad, go ahead,” I said waving her onward, leaning back, then leaning forward again to pour another shot.

  “So, okay, I’ll start at the beginning. Mother said she was eight when her mother, Merdeen, left for the first time. It’s possible there were other times, more than likely, but she couldn’t remember. Her mom just left. No goodbye, no hug, no why or what-for, no nothing. Mom said they were home, and the last thing she remembers was her mother was folding clothes in the bedroom and stacking them on the bed in a pile. She was playing with some paper dolls when she heard the front door shut. Mom said she thought someone was there, so she ran to the door but didn’t see anyone. She heard the car crank and opened the door to see her mother driving away. Simply left. Gone. Took off for Galveston, the city of big dreams. She was at home by herself till her dad got home and asked where her mother was. Hell came undone afterwards. Her dad, Ernest, went after her and left Gabby with a distant uncle. I hate even saying the next part. It makes me sick to think about it.” Meg stopped and took a shot. I could tell she was having trouble telling the rest of the story. I could feel the oncoming weight of whatever it was; it wasn’t good at all. An impending doom like I’d felt as a child, most times. I felt faint and woozy as if this huge, unimaginable loss was coming toward me like an unstoppable comet seeking to blow up my world.

  “Then it happened,” Meg said with a weary glance, “the unimaginable happened to Mom.” Big plump tears puddled in her eyes. Neither of us could say it but we knew, without words, we knew.

  My heart sank. I slumped on the couch, barely able to breathe or swallow the thick saliva building up in my mouth. My mouth curled inward and I gripped my lips so hard they felt numb.

  “Ernest returned later without Merdeen. Life went on as usual but Mom was, you know, broke. Changed. I mean, how does one process perverted junk at that age? Plus, this back and forth her mother was doing was batshit crazy town. A few months later, she shows up like nothing ever happened and the relationship just picked up where it left off. What is that all about? How can someone do that? And get this. A month or so later, Merdeen is pregnant. Nine months later, out pops Mom’s sister, Symphony.”

  “We have an aunt?” I yelled, my mouth still open in shock. “Seriously? Are you kidding me? Mother has a sister? And her name is Symphony? What the hell? Did Merdeen get laid at the opera or something? I tell you what, this beats it all.” The strange name threw me more than discovering we had an aunt we had never heard of. More secrets, and more lies.

  “Yep. We have an aunt…and you’re partially right. The name came from Merdeen’s love for orchestras and symphonies. Mom said after her sister was born, everything went downhill from there. Merdeen went into something like a deep sleep, rarely getting out of bed, and when she did, she was out of it. Mom said there was no food in the house, and her father had to regularly try to keep up with it and still work and he could never get through to her, she’d just look right through him as if he wasn’t there. Mom said from what she could remember, this was the start of where everything changed. She had this fear her mother was going to leave again. She was right. She left them all. Mom, the baby, everyone.”

  My mind clicked and roared and screamed into the empty places that now described why my mother is the way she is. What if I’d known back then? Would things be different? Would our relationship have been better? Would it have made a difference?

  “Then it was repeat and replay, Merdeen leaving, Ernest going after her, mom and sister left at uncles, Ernest returning without her, and the whole shit show repeated itself over and over again. Mom told me one time, Ernest had Merdeen locked up, not in jail, but in the mental hospital for a month or so. She didn’t go voluntarily either. Mom said these men showed up at the house one day and they forced her into a truck kicking and screaming. It was traumatic for Mom. She only learned later it was a state institution for the mentally ill.”

  By this time, my head was spinning. My mind seemed to go dark with thoughts of places like Castle Pines, and the things Maw Sue went through at those places, and I felt a tinge of compassion for this grandmother we never knew. I wondered if it was possible to have the curse on both sides of the family tree? If so, I didn’t stand a chance. I could hear the moans and creaks of Castle Pines growing closer and closer. I grabbed my shot glass and poured another drink. I was rattled to the deep core of my being, so much I could feel the heavy weight of the house of seven within me, the sounds of the word bones, the little girls running rampant. I did not know if I’d recover from this night.

  “But get this, Cass. Mom said she was about ten years old and finally got the courage to tell her mother what her uncle was doing while she was gone. But, Merdeen didn’t believe her. She slapped her and told her to stop talking fifth. Then dragged her to the kitchen and forced her to drink a glass of castor oil mixed with soap for lying. Who does that? I mean, after hearing all this, I can’t even look at Mom the same. It’s all I see when I look into her eyes.”<
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  Meg poured another shot. “After that, I think she gave up a little. Mom got older, Ernest and Merdeen fought more, and Ernest began to drink more, which intensified things. Mom said that she learned the warning signs. Arguments meant one of two things; her mother’s departure, or going to the uncle’s. Sometimes her mother stayed gone for days, for weeks, even months. No one knew where she was. Ernest would go on drinking binges. Home wasn’t normal for them. There were no celebrations, no holidays, no birthdays, and no gifts at Christmas, no talking, no hugging, no caretaking, it was basically Mom tending and raising her own sister and trying to protect herself and Symphony from the uncle. She was thirteen when she put her foot down and refused to go. Ernest was so intoxicated, he didn’t care. Mom endured and took care of Symphony when Merdeen was on one of her running-away sprees. When Mom was seventeen, she met Dad. And the rest is history.”

  I choked down a lump in my throat. It was hard to hear this about my own mother. The pain in my gut felt as if it was rising through my throat and strangling my ability to breathe. For the life of me, I did not want to cry for my mother. I had long ago erected a wall of stone against such things. No crying for Gabby. Never. Not as a child. Not as a woman. Not now. Not then. Not ever. To cry for her was to admit my weakness in needing her.

  Meg sighed while I took all this in. “I’m sorry. I thought you’d want to know, Cass. I figured it would explain Mom’s moods and why she acts the way she does.” She shrugged. “Or it did for me. I mean look at all she went through. And think about it, Cass. We have an aunt. When I asked about her, Mom said that some things are just better left alone. She did say she’s in Georgia, happily married with a family, and they talk once a year or so. If anything, now I understand Mom’s need to provide for us, like when we got every single gift imaginable under the sun. Remember? Mom has always been a caretaker. It’s why she cooks. Cleans. Cares. She told me she never had a birthday party, not one. No cake, presents, nothing. Plus, what I find amazing is no matter what she went through growing up, for us, she did something different. Think about it. She made sure me and you were taken care of. We had everything we needed.”

 

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