Ella

by Ryan Scott



  Ella

  By Ryan Scott

  About the Book:

  Ella is about a young woman’s struggle to survive during the Great Depression, confronted with abuse, poverty and the consequences of her own passionate choices.

  About the author:

  Ryan Scott is a published author with a Ph.D. in counseling psychology, living in Austin, Texas. His four marriages, his loss of sight and his experiences working as an apple picker, dish washer, grocery clerk, high school teacher, real estate investor, hippy night club owner, radio broadcaster, and psychologist colors his writing with a profound understanding of human flaws, strengths and dreams.

  Other books he has written include: Darkness, the Secrets of a Blind Psychologist, Matter of Attitude and Riches for Cowards.

  Dedication:

  I dedicate this literary flourish to the memory of my Mother.

  Special Note:

  The reader can contact Ryan Scott to make comments or ask questions at https://www.booksryanscott.com/home/

  FORWARD:

  "Ella, we have your results back from pathology. I’m sorry to tell you cancer has spread throughout your body. There’s nothing more we can do, “the young surgeon said, nervously tapping his stethoscope.

  "How long do I have?" She whispered, twisting the sheet.

  The young doctor swallowed several times before speaking. "I’ll be honest with you Ella. It’s a matter of hours; maybe 2 days at the most, but we’re going to make you as comfortable as possible.”

  Numb with shock, she asked, “What’s going to happen now?”

  “You’ll be discharged and sent home, but a hospice nurse will go with you. I understand one of your sons lives with you. Is that correct?"

  She slowly nodded her head, falling silent, thinking, all my life I’ve stood up to shit. I don’t believe I’m going to die. How could it be over at 69? How could I die with so many things I haven’t done? I don’t want to go.”

  When she was back at her home, the nurse helped her get into bed, saying, “All right Sweetheart, I’m going now, but I’ll be back later. I’ve left you pain pills. Take one if you need it.”

  After the nurse left, Ella tried to rest, but a stabbing pain made her cry out, "Joey! Please get my pain pills. I need them quick!"

  He rushed into her bedroom and groped on the dresser, saying, “Here they are, Mom. Is your pain getting worse?"

  She grimaced. "Yes, when are the other kids coming?"

  "Frank and Susan should be here soon. Tom said his plane from Austin would arrive at five this afternoon. I’ll get you a glass of water."

  After she swallowed one of the pills, she slowly drifted into a fitful sleep, reliving her explosive, sometimes brutal carnival of her life.

 

  Chapter 1

  An old black Labrador began to bark at the sound of a strange vehicle. "Flanagan, be quiet!" Ella shouted, wondering who was coming. Six months pregnant, she pushed up from her chair, went to the front door and saw her best friend getting out of an old car.

  Barely making herself heard over the noise coming from the quarry, she yelled, "Hi Violet. I’m so glad to see you!"

  Her friend jogged to the porch with her long braids bouncing and clasped her shoulders. “Hi, Ella. I borrowed my Dad’s car so I could come to see you. It’s been such a long time!"

  “It’s been too long! I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you. Let’s go for a picnic and catch up.”

  After Ella made sandwiches, they hiked to the top of a knoll where they saw black and white cattle peacefully grazing in the meadow below. After Violet spread an old Indian blanket, they sat down and began to eat their lunch.

  “Hey Ella, I’ve been wondering how come you don’t capitalize the first letter of your name.”

  Ella laughed. “That’s easy. Stella is my name, but I hate it so I simply dropped the St.

  Suddenly, an ancient steam shovel roared to life, staining the blue sky with black smoke. In a cloud of dust, it gouged a scarred hillside with its bucket, slammed its load of rocks into a waiting dump truck and roared back for another load.

  Violet Pointed to a paint-starved house. “Ella, how can you stand to live in that old place with all that dust and racket?"

  Ella laughed mirthlessly. “It’s inconvenient as hell, but free rent makes it tolerable.”

  “You used to live in such a lovely home, what happened?” Violet asked.

  She hesitated, remembering her mother’s ranting and the look of disgust on her father’s face. Finally she said, “One night Rico took me to see a Rudolf Valentino movie. All that kissing on the screen made me excited. On our way home, he wanted sex, but I told him I was afraid. He told me not to worry, but I got pregnant. When he bolted, Mr. Carlini found him in a lumber mill up North and forced him to marry me so the baby would have a proper name. After we took a scary trip to Reno, we got married; and my father gave Rico his old job back and let us live in that house.

  “That explains a lot. I was surprised when you dropped out of high school; especially since you wanted to be a teacher."

  "That wasn’t my idea. After I told my gym teacher about my pregnancy, the dean kicked me out that afternoon. She said I was a bad example for decent girls."

  “How dare she say you aren’t decent? You’re the most decent person I know!”

  “Thank you Violet. It still makes me boil whenever I think about it. Everyone acts like I’ve done something terrible.”

  “They’re just hypocrites. Now that you’re married, what’s it like living with Rico?”

  “Well, he’s away most of the time working, so I don’t see him that much. He used to be fun, laughing and dancing, but now he resents the marriage. Since he’s been working for my father, he’s settled down, but he’s no longer romantic like he used to be. Now, how about you? Do you have a boyfriend?"

  Violet smiled. "In fact I do. His name is Pete, and he’s a real sweetheart!"

  When the sun began to stretch long shadows, the workers at the quarry stopped working and a peaceful quiet settled over the valley. Meadowlarks began to sing their evening songs, swooping and dipping over the lush green fields.

  Ella pushed up to her feet. “Rico will be home soon. We better put the supper on the stove.”

  Violet hopped to her feet and snatched up the Indian blanket. "Ok, I’m ready. Let's go!"

  That evening, while they sat around the table eating jackrabbit stew, Rico pushed his curly hair away from his face, saying in a voice that was too loud, "Hey Violet, when I comes home tonight I seen that old Plymouth parked in the yard; and I SES to myself, who the hell’s that? I was glad it was you. How long can you stay?"

  “I’ll be here for two days. Why do you ask?"

  He wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “Well, if you stay, you won’t miss the bull round up, and besides, Ella here is six month knocked up and she’s acting real pissy. If you stay, she might stop her bitching.”

  Ignoring the insult to her friend, she asked, “What’s a bull roundup?"

  He Pointed at Ella. “Let her tell the story. She knows all about it. Hey Ella, is there anymore coffee?"

  At nineteen, he was two years older than Ella, but she was three inches taller. Not wanting to make a scene in front of Violet, she refilled their cups, saying, "Heck Violet, I thought you already knew about the roundup. Anyway, one year the bulls got into a terrible fight during judging at the Santa Rosa fairgrounds. Now, all the ranchers bring their bulls to my father’s ranch so the bulls can pick a leader by fighting at home. Caesar, Papa’s bull, always wins. After the fight, there’s a big barbecue. Every one brings food, and it’s a lot of fun."

  Violet frowned." It sounds dangerous!"

  "Aw, hell, it
ain't dangerous at all! It’s as safe as your mother’s tits," Rico scoffed, fishing in his shirt pocket for a cigarette stub.

  Early the next morning, he left to help prepare for the arrival of the bulls, but Ella and Violet remained behind, visiting over a leisurely breakfast.

  Later that morning, they arrived at the ranched where vehicles of all kinds were haphazardly parked, Model T Fords, flatbed trucks and even horse drawn carriages.

  Ella pointed towards the barn. “Oh look Violet! There’s a place right over there next to Mr. Carlini's Packard."

  After they parked, Ella got out of the car carrying a bowl of potato salad.

  When Violet got out of the car, she smelled the scent of barbecue wafting in the air and licked her lips, asking, “When do we eat?”

  Ella laughed. “We eat right after the fight. My mouth is watering also.”

  They stopped to watch the Italian cooks in tall white hats slowly rotating a half side of beef over a fire pit, shouting and laughing. One of them began to sing in a loud strident voice.

  “Who’s that guy singing so awful?" Violet asks, giggling.

  "Oh, that's just old Tony. He's notorious for his loud bad singing."

  Over by the corral, they heard Cesar snorting and kicking his rails. When he loudly bellowed, echoing early through the canyons and shattering the crisp morning air, Violet ducked behind her car. "Jesus, I hope that beast doesn't break through those fences!"

  "Don't worry, we're safe enough, but all the same let's join the women."

  They walked to the porch and heard a babble of voices coming from the house. When they entered the parlor, heavy-set ladies were bustling from room to room, making a whooshing sound as their plump thighs rubbed together.

  Ella tried to introduce Violet to one of the women, but she exclaimed, “Why Ella! You really are pregnant! I didn’t believe it at first. I have to go now.”

  After she left, Ella whispered, “See what I mean? But I don’t care. Her perfume made me sick."

  When they entered the dining room, Violet drew in her breath. “Ella, just look at all the food on that table. There must be at least a dozen cakes! Here, let me put that salad with the rest of the food."

  Ella’s mother came into the dining room carrying a platter of candied apples. Like an older version of Ella, she was tall with regular pretty features. Breathlessly, she said, "Oh, hello, dear. I was wondering when you were coming, and hello Violet; it's good to see you again."

  "Hi, Mrs. Schultz. I’m amazed at all the food."

  Frances placed the apples on the table and turned to Ella. "Honey, let's go to the front porch where the two of you can get a whiff of fresh air. I swear, Ella, you're getting so big I think you're going to have twins."

  Back on the porch, the two younger women sat down on wicker chairs, but Frances remained standing, affectionately rubbing her daughter’s shoulders. “Oh look Honey, there's your father coming with Mr. Carlini. I have to take the bread from the oven, but I’ll join you later."

  As the two older men approached the porch, Ella was able to overhear their conversation. Julius Carlini, tall, gray at his temples with Patrician features, jabbed his palm, emphatically saying, "Ansel, I'm telling you, you're making a big mistake by selling all your breeding stock."

  Ella’s father who was blind, of medium height, and bald with a square jaw, spat on the ground. "Hell, vot am I to do? The lawyers said the banks vill take my ranches by next spring. I have to sell all my animals. I came to this country from Germany a poor man. I vorked hard all my life. Now, fifty years later, I'm losing everything."

  Julius laid a restraining hand on his arm. "Keep your voice down, or someone might hear you." In an undertone, he added, “Hoover is screwing everyone. If I could help you, I would."

  Ansel nodded. "Thank you Julius. Now, let's sit down and enjoy the show. The boys just let Caesar out of his pen."

  The overheard conversation made Ella worry, thinking, if Papa looses everything, what’s going to happen to us?

  A group of men were gathered by the fence, watching two young bulls butting horns. Caesar lifted his massive head and bellowed as he strutted haughtily across the field. Ella glanced at her father and then at Cesar, suddenly understanding the connection between her father and his bull. Both of them are proud, dominant and powerful!

  A murmur rose from a cluster of men when the young muscular bull dashed into the field. When it skidded to a stop and raked the ground with his hoof, scattering rocks and leaves, Caesar trumpeted a warning.

  "Julius, vot's happening?" Ansel demanded.

  Mr. Carlini leaned closer. "Caesar has a challenger."

  Ansel chuckled. "Vot damn bull thinks he can take on Caesar?"

  "It’s that new bull; you know the one from Texas. He looks like he could give Caesar a good scrap."

  Ansel crossed his legs. "Veil, we'll just find out how Caesar handles this Texas bull."

  At one end of the pasture, Caesar urinated on the ground and rolled in the puddle while the younger bull observed the spectacle. After Caesar got to his feet, blowing foam from his nose, the bull from Texas butted an oak tree . After both bulls bellowed and furiously stomped the ground, they squared their shoulders and lowered their horns into killing position.

  The men who were standing by the fence became quiet, expectant.

  Violet grabbed Ella’s Arm. "Oh dear, will they kill each other?"

  Ella hunched her shoulders with her eyes riveted on the pasture. "I sure hope not!"

  With a scream Caesar shook his horns and charged. The younger animal instantly responded by hurling at the old monarch. With the earth trembling from pounding hooves, their horns collided with a resounding crack! Both animals reeled backwards, but Caesar fell to his knees. The younger bull switched its tail as Caesar clumsily regained his footing and shook his head from side to side as if stupefied. Slowly, he limped away with blood streaming down his shoulder. The young bull allowed the vanquished leader to retreat without inflicting further injury.

  A few men who stood along the fence broke into loud cheers while others paid off their wagering debts. Ansel jumped to his feet, yelling, "Julius, vot the hell happened?"

  Julius whispered in his ear. As Ella watched her father’s confident expression crumble into despair, she involuntarily shuddered.

  “Ella are you all right?" Violet asked.

  "I’m not sure. I just had a spooky feeling that bad things are going to happen."

  Violet playfully punched her shoulder. “Oh hell Ella, two dumb bulls had a fight. That’s all. Come on, the cooks just rang the dinner bell."

  Shouting and giggling, the women promenaded from the house carrying covered dishes . While they put the food on long plank tables, children snatched tidbits of food and three intoxicated men clumsily rolled a barrel of wine from Ansel’s cellar.

  "Hey, Ella, this affair is turning into a real fiesta. Just look at all that food!" Violet shouted.

  Rico yelled from the corral where he was attending to Caesar's lacerated shoulder, "Hey, Ella, get a plate for me."

  She yelled back that she would.

  When they got in line at the barbecue pit, Ella watched Tony slice the beef with one hand while holding a jug of wine in the other. After he slapped a thick slab of prime rib on her plate, he winked and said, "There you are, beautiful lady, a big juicy hunk of meat just for you."

  As she turned away, he broke into a thunderous rendition of an unrecognizable tune.

  By late afternoon, all the food had been consumed with the women groaning and the men farting. Ansel had excused himself after the fight and remained secluded. Rico, Violet, Ella and her mother were seated on a blanket when Rico pointed at Tony who was holding a jug of wine and his white hat askew. “Look at that old fool. I wonder what he’s up to now."

  Tony walked unsteadily to the corral, stopped and yelled, "Caesar, your day was not so good. I'm a sing for you."

  He unst
eadily climbed to the top rail and began to sing an off-tune operatic aria. Caesar, snorting menacingly, gingerly shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Tony swayed back and forth, singing at the top of his voice. Suddenly, he lost his balance and fell. Caesar charged. Tony was half way up when the powerful animal gored his stomach. When he tossed Tony back over the fence, Tony gave a heart-twisting scream. Someone shouted, "Help, help. Come quick. Caesar just got old Tony!"

  Caesar continued to bellow. Rico grabbed a tablecloth and raced to the corral. Mr. Carlini directed his chauffeur, saying, “Quickly, drive the car over there by that fence."

  Ella helplessly watched, unable to do anything.

  After Rico wrapped the tablecloth around Toni's bloody middle, four men carried him to the nearby limousine. Mr. Carlini held the rear door opened. "Hurry! Put him in here. We've have to get him to the hospital before he bleeds to death."

  As the big car sped away, Ella’s mind began to spin and her vision blurred, but a supporting arm stopped her from falling. Her mother pressed a glass of water to her lips. "Here, honey, drink this water."

  "Oh, Mama, Is he going to die?"

  "No, dear, it’s just a scratch. It’s your father I’m worried about."