“They are devious,” Aunt Tessie said, patting her eyes with a handkerchief. “It is awful to have that devil’s children in my Christian home.”
They nodded their agreement, looking us up and down.
“I’m a churchgoing woman. I don’t know what I did to deserve this burden,” Tessie lied.
“You’re a saint,” one woman clucked.
“You deserve a medal,” another soothed.
Aunt Tessie gravely nodded before leading her guests out of our room and leaving us alone for the night. I lay in bed and wondered, Is that why I am still not allowed to go to school?
It was about that time that Aunt Tessie decided to starve us. We never had much to eat there, but after Mama left, our allotted portions became even smaller. One evening, I smelled supper cooking. My mouth watered as I waited for Aunt Tessie to call us in to the table. Instead, she called in her children. I listened to the tinkle of their silver and the lilt of happy voices. Still, we were not summoned.
Eventually, Tessie’s children appeared. When they saw us staring hungrily at them, they laughed. One rubbed her tummy.
“Mm–mm.”
Giggling, they ran out. I could barely contain myself, I was so hungry. Finally, Aunt Tessie called out.
“Come on in here.”
We rushed into the kitchen. I was the last to come through the doorway. As Nellie and Robbie took their seats, Tessie looked at me.
“Not you, Frances. You go out there and clean up my sewing. And fix that mess you all made in the bathroom this morning.”
I froze, my stomach growling loudly.
“Get on with you,” she snapped, staring at me with squinted eyes.
I rushed out to do as I was told. I finished up as quickly as I could and raced back to the kitchen. When I arrived, Nellie and Robbie had finished eating. The table was clean. Aunt Tessie smirked at me. It was truly a wicked sight.
“You should have finished your work faster. You missed your allotted time.”
I believe that if Mama had been there, Tessie would not have dared starve me. The next morning, we sat down for breakfast. I was so hungry that I ate mine and licked the plate, without paying much attention to anyone else. Robbie was in one of his goofy moods. He started singing an Elvis Presley song that we’d heard coming from her young daughter’s room.
“Won’t you wear my ring around your neck?” he sang.
Had I not been so hungry, I might have hushed him. As it was, Aunt Tessie came in before I could say anything. She had a grim smile on her linear face.
“What were you singing, Robbie?” she asked.
Her tone was matter-of-fact, and little Robbie was so innocent he did not understand what was about to happen.
“Wow my wing wound yoo kneck,” he said.
“Why don’t you sing a little louder,” she said.
Robbie, thinking he’d done something good, burst out even louder.
“Won’t YOO WOW my wing, wound YOO neck?”
I did not see the coat hanger in her hand until she was bending it around Robbie’s neck.
“Maybe this will remind you to keep silent with your devil’s music,” she said.
Robbie had to wear that wire around his neck all day. He never did know why. That was one of the last breakfasts we were served. We never got lunch, and after Mama left, supper became hit or miss until one day we got nothing. No food and no water; nothing for the entire day. It was like an experiment.
We sat in our chairs all the next day. Our stabbing hunger pains had been replaced by a dull ache. My lips cracked and my tongue felt twice the size it should. Each hour ticked by as slowly as molasses dripping from a spoon. When the sun set, we were sent to bed again; no water and no food.
The next day was the same until, in the afternoon, Aunt Tessie summoned us to the kitchen. She sat at the table as we stood with barely enough strength to stay upright. She looked us up and down. There was a strange glow behind her eyes.
“If you could have just one,” she asked, “food or water, what would it be?”
“Water,” we all said, our voices harsh.
Very slowly, she poured three cups. I stared so hard I thought she’d slap me, but she did not. Instead, she handed us each a cup and nodded. I drank like everything else in the world vanished. I gulped it down. It made me feel sick, but I could not stop.
I believe Aunt Tessie knew she had taken us dangerously close to complete dehydration. She let us drink as much as we wanted. I learned later in life that she was experimenting on us like lab rats. She wanted to know how long a person could go without food and water.
It was times like those that I wondered which had been worse, living with Tessie or with Daddy. My Daddy was far more violent, but Tessie watched everything we did. We could not flinch without her coming down on us, whereas Daddy spent hours paying us no attention at all while he was passed out or in a bar getting drunk. The only good that came of living with Tessie was that Mama never got hurt. I could suffer in silence for Mama, and I did.
Every night when the house was quiet, we prayed that Mama would come back and take us away from this misery. Kneeling together in the middle of the bed, the three of us prayed as Mama had taught us, with our hands folded together and our heads bowed.
“Dear Jesus, please bring our mama back and get us out of this house,” we whispered. Then we said our nighttime prayer, “Now I lay me down to sleep.”
I can still hear my little brother’s soft voice whispering those words. He couldn’t speak plainly yet, but his curly blond head bowed as he kept up with his sisters as best he could. Even though his speech was not clear, his little heart was filled with faith, and I was sure that God heard his prayers.
As suddenly as Mama disappeared, she returned to us. I was sitting in my chair one evening when I caught a glimpse of her walking down the hallway. Months before I would have jumped up and run to her, but Tessie had total control over us by then. Instead, I sat as still as usual, listening to a muffled voice rise and turn angry. Mama’s footsteps approached once but stopped suddenly, and the voices grew louder still. Then it was bedtime. We did not try to cough, nor did she visit our room. Deep inside, despite the abuse Tessie had doled out, I hoped the cruelty would stop once Mama was home. It did not change.
Another few weeks passed and winter approached. The trees made stark shadows in the dark, long, freezing nights. One day, while we were sitting in our chairs, Tessie came into the living room.
“Come with me, children,” she said. I wondered what cruel torture she had cooked up this time, a bit surprised that she’d even referred to us as children.
She led us into the family room and stood proudly, pointing to the giant Christmas tree she had displayed to the world through the picture window. It was painstakingly decorated with twinkling lights, ornaments, and tinsel. I could see the pride and pleasure in her face. She allowed us “monsters” to march around the tree, expecting us to compliment her hard work. Robbie enjoyed it, his little feet skipping as he walked. Nellie looked at it in awe and smiled sweetly at Tessie. She told Aunt Tessie how lovely her tree was and what a great job she had done on the decorations. Tessie glowed and waited for my praise. I refused to show any emotion. I acted as if the tree was not even present in the room. I stared at the beautiful lights reflecting off the perfectly arranged tinsel. It was a lovely sight, and a Christmas tree always gladdens a child’s heart, but I had made my mind up. I would not love her or try to make her love me any longer. Instead, I made no comment and stared straight ahead. I refused to show any emotion. I knew it would hurt her, at least a little, and that was just fine with me.
My reaction infuriated Tessie. She shook with anger, and I didn’t care. I would never let her hurt me again. I knew right then that there was a real monster in Tessie’s house, and it sure wasn’t me.
Aunt Tessie towered over me when I took my seat.
“If you had any vestige of goodness inside that wicked heart of yours, you would have fo
und joy in seeing such a beautiful tree.”
She turned her head and shouted for Mama to come into the room. Mama came quickly, and her eyes met mine. I think she could see what had happened to us while she was gone just in my face in that moment. I saw something inside her stir.
“That daughter of yours is consumed by the devil. There is nothing left of good inside her. She has to be punished until the evil inside her is gone. She has to be saved with fire, or she will take us down with her. There is nothing to love in that one, that’s for sure.”
Mama looked at me and then at Tessie. “You have a mighty nice tree, Tessie. I thank you for it.”
That was it. Tessie seemed to want more. I am sure she wanted Mama to agree with her, but that is not what happened. Instead, Mama left the room. In my secret heart, I was amazed by the Christmas tree. It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. It may have been the only decorated tree I had ever seen at the time. We had never celebrated Christmas, and most of the time Brenda did not let us know when Christmas Day came around. I imagine that she didn’t want us to feel sad or left out.
Later that night, I overheard the conversation between Mama and Aunt Tessie. Usually their words were not clear enough to understand, but I heard Mama say one thing loud and clear.
“Thank you for your kindness, Tessie, but we’ll be moving out. I am looking for a place for us to stay.”
Hope stirred in my heart when I heard those words. Mama had come back!
Chapter 11
First Day of School
My prayers were answered the morning a fat yellow cab pulled up out front of Aunt Tessie’s house. Its horn sounded at the same time Mama called to us from the back room.
“Kids, ya’ll come on back here and help me gather our things.”
We bolted like lightning and found Mama in her room, stuffing a few dresses and blouses in cardboard boxes. We had never even seen her room before, nor had we been this close to Mama in months, but we did not hesitate. Instead, we jumped right into helping her. I couldn’t get out of that cursed place soon enough.
I didn’t see Tessie when Mama ushered us outside. We piled into the cab as the driver helped Mama place her things in the trunk. The cab drove off, and I never once looked back. I was happy to look forward, focusing on where we were going and what our new home might be like. Would it be an old school bus or a tent under a bridge? Either sounded great to me. As long as I could be with my mama, I was happy. When we pulled to a stop outside a big old house with a welcoming front porch, I was blown over with excitement.
“Mama, is this our house?” I asked. I couldn’t believe it.
“Yes, this is all ours, and you can have your own room.”
Robbie jumped up and down. He was out of the cab door before Mama.
“Robbie, wait for us!” she called out, laughing.
My brother was already halfway up the front steps of the porch. Mama hurriedly paid the driver, and Nellie and I helped lug her few boxes out of the trunk. Mama wore a huge smile and walked to catch up to him. She fished the key out of her pocket and took a deep breath.
“This is home,” she whispered. “Nothing will ever hurt us again.”
To me, our new house looked like a three-story Southern mansion. Robbie and I ran up and down the huge staircase, yelling out so we could hear our voices echo through the hall and stomping our feet up and down the wooden stairs. It was like exploring a museum! We ran through every room, our excitement growing. We discovered a small hidden door just under the stairs, about three feet tall and barely wide enough for us to squeeze through. After investigating that, we ran in and out of the vacant rooms, squealing with laughter.
Our mansion was actually a somewhat dilapidated antebellum home with paint made murky gray by years of accumulated dust. Dampness had overtaken the exterior, pushing itself between paint and rotting wood and leaving peeling scales here and there. Some windows were broken and others were cracked. Weeds threatened to swallow the entire place, particularly the oversized porch with its missing floorboards. To me, it was the most beautiful home anyone could dream of because we were all together.
One of the most delightful things about the house was that another answer to my prayers stood just eight blocks away. Mama enrolled Nellie and I in school the following Monday morning. My greatest dream was finally coming true; I was to attend school for the first time.
My first day of school was a moment in my life that can never be diminished. It was a great event in my life. I wanted to be good and learn everything the teacher could show me. We had clean clothes to wear, and Mama brushed the tangles out of my hair. I skipped to school with a smile on my face that wouldn’t go away.
The school rose up in front of Nellie and me, the redbrick façade exactly as I had dreamed it would be. I sprinted up the stairs leading to the arched entrance as if it were the home of a long-lost grandmother. Mama had to rush to keep up with me. This was the day I had prayed for, and at last it was happening! I was inside a school building, going to school!
My feet danced as Mama spoke to the woman in the office. She wanted to know from what school we had transferred so they could request our past records. Mama talked to the principal, trying to convince him we had been to school in another state. There were no computers at that time, and records were sent by mail. It was not unusual to lose documents.
“It’s the gosh-darnedest thing. With all the moving we done, I’ve misplaced her records.”
She assured him that once she found the documents, she would bring them in. The principal accepted her story and gave Mama some papers to fill out. I could hardly stand the wait, but it was not long. I was quickly led to a third-grade class. The teacher was Mrs. Hayes. She stood up in front of the entire class and introduced me. I felt shy standing there with all of those new faces peering at me, but Mrs. Hayes found worth in my presence. This was a foreign concept to me, and one I ate up with relish. It felt wonderful to be a part of what I had only dreamed of until now.
Mrs. Hayes ushered me to a desk of my own. As the day went on, she showed real interest in me, and I soaked up everything she wanted to teach. When it was time for lunch, she made a point of sitting beside me.
“What is your favorite color, Frances?” she asked.
I felt uncomfortable with her questions at first. A part of me, the part created by my daddy and Aunt Tessie, thought it was a test. If I failed, I thought I would be spanked or told to sit in a chair alone, or worse, told to leave the school—a thought I could not bear. The teacher seemed to understand my hesitation because she changed the subject and told me about the school library.
“It has books you can borrow any time you want,” she said.
“I can take them home with me?” I asked.
“Yes, you check them out and return them, and then you can check out more.” Mama had taught each of us to read; it was a beloved pastime that we all enjoyed. Finding the library was one of the happiest moments I can remember.
I adored my new teacher and would do anything for her. Slowly, and with a gentle kindness, she helped me open up like a new flower and created a place of comfort and joy for me in her classroom.
As I flourished in the school, a new shadow threatened. At first, it was not out in the open, and I definitely did not understand it. What I did understand was that Mama started to have trouble caring for us. Sometimes she would forget to buy food. She would stay out late at night and not get up at all in the morning.
When the children at school started to point out that we did not smell very good, I realized she had stopped doing laundry. I showed up to school more and more dirty, my hygiene being left to my own doing. There was some name-calling, but it did not curb my excitement for school. I loved each and every day, and every day I learned something new.
Mrs. Hayes tried hard to help me with my appearance. Many times she tied the belt on the back of my dress or used safety pins to hold up the hem that had torn out and hung down to my ankles. She took the ti
me to show me the correct way to button my dress when I came in half thrown together. Even though I didn’t look like the others, she tried hard to show me I was the same as the clean children on the inside.
Mrs. Hayes quickly noticed my love of music. No one else had noticed it before. She encouraged me to sing. She had me sing a little song before class. I was embarrassed, but I did it for her. I think she was trying to build my confidence.
My reading and math progressed quickly. Socially, it was more difficult. It became clear that I was different than the other children. My shoes were three sizes too large, and I often wore the same dress for weeks at a time. I also had no undergarments or socks. Kids noticed these things and at times were very cruel.
One morning, I wanted badly to dress as the others did. I was embarrassed that I didn’t have any underwear. Mama was sound asleep when I opened the door to her room. I purposely tried to make noise, but she did not stir. I worried for a time that she had died, she lay so still. I bent down low in front of her face to feel her breathing.
Finding no help from Mama, I decided to rummage through her dresser to see if I could find something that would fit me. I found a pair of her old baggy panties. But when I pulled them up, they fell right back to the floor. I tried again, this time cinching the elastic waistband and tying it into a loose knot around my small stomach. I used her hairbrush to try to remove some of the tangles from my long hair, but it hurt too much, so I let it be. At least I had some underwear.
Nellie called out from the front of the house.
“Come on, Frances. The others are passing us.”
I heard the front door creak open and then slam shut again. I raced out of Mama’s room, one hand holding up the panties through the thin fabric of my dress. As I passed, I tripped over the hem of my dress and fell to the floor. Mama’s panties dropped to my ankles. I stood and pulled them up again, quickly tying another knot in the elastic waistband. I scooped up my books and burst through the door. Nellie was half a block ahead of me, walking with half a dozen of our classmates. I tried to catch up but I could not walk fast without losing Mama’s underpants.
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