DarkHeart of Hampton House

by Joy Redmond

  “That’s right, Lisa. I have to keep your belly full. You can have an extra helping today and you can eat anytime you want. That Lance sure is a cute baby and I’ll do my part in helping raise him. I know I named him while you were having trouble coming back to life, but I think the name is fitting.”

  Lisa smiled. “I like the name, Miss Hampton. I hadn’t picked one out since I didn’t know what I was having. I appreciate you taking over when I was feeling so poorly. I’m not sure what come over me, but I dreamed my baby was born dead and it was so real I couldn’t get over it. That is until ya cleaned him up and brought him back upstairs to me. He sure is big for three-days-old, don’t ya think?”

  “He’s a right nice size for sure,” Ruby answered. “Now all you kids bow your heads while I say the blessing.”

  When the prayer was finished, six voices echoed, “Amen.”

  Jimmy began talking with his mouth full which was against the rules, but Miss Hampton didn’t scold him. “I ain’t got to see the new baby yet. After we eat, can I hold him?” His eyes were wide, as if he were pleading.

  “You can hold him, but be sure to support his head,” Ruby answered.

  Ruby glanced toward Warren, who loudly said, “Don’t be looking at me. I don’t want any part of that little snot-nose. I hate babies. I hate kids. I—”

  Ruby interrupted. “We know, Warren. You hate everybody. And guess what? Everybody hates you too. That includes me. I better never catch you near the baby or I’ll have your head on the block. My ax is always sharpened. One whack and your head will fall off the block and roll into the bushes. Don’t try me, boy!”

  None of the other children opened their mouths, as if they feared they’d say the wrong thing and their heads would be on the chopping block. Miss Hampton had a look in her eyes that kept fear in the children.

  When Lance was six-months-old, Lisa came down with pneumonia. Ruby didn’t believe in doctors, just as Father hadn’t. She did her best to nurse Lisa back to health, but three days after Lisa took fever, she died.

  From the moment the undertaker took Lisa’s body away, Lance began crying. Ruby walked the floors with him, rocked him, sang to him and rubbed his back, but nothing stopped the loud wails. After one week of continuous crying, Jimmy came to the door of Ruby’s bedroom. “Er, Miss Hampton, I know I ain’t supposed to come in, but you look powerful tired. I’ll take Lance for a few minutes and let you get some rest.”

  Ruby didn’t want to hand over Lance, but she was bone tired and her eyes were heavy, begging for sleep. “Okay. Take him upstairs to Lisa’s room and rock him. I’ll try to get a few minutes rest, then I’ll come up and get him.”

  Ruby lay across her bed and fell asleep before her head hit the pillow. When she awakened, it was daylight. She hurried into the kitchen where she found all the children sitting at the table, and Jimmy was serving them breakfast. She looked at the wall clock. “Good heavens. It’s after six. I can’t believe I slept for so long. Jimmy, where’s Lance?” she asked, a bit of fear in her voice.

  “Why, Miss Hampton, I took him upstairs and rocked him like you told me to. Within a minute or two, he went to sleep. I put him in his crib and he’s still sleeping.”

  “That was kind of you to let me sleep, Jimmy. And I’m glad you finally got that poor child to sleep. I was afraid he was gonna die from crying so long and he would only take a few drops of milk. I think he hates a bottle since he was used to—” She caught herself before she said the word breast. It wasn’t a proper subject for children. “I need to go check on him,” she said, as she hurried out of the kitchen and bounded the stairs.

  She went into Lisa’s room and the sight of the empty bed sent a pain through her heart. She walked over to the crib and looked down. Lance’s eyes were wide open, but he wasn’t making a sound. She picked him up and changed his diaper. “I know you’re hungry, little fellow. I sure hope you take the bottle. It’s the only choice we have now.” She carried Lance downstairs.

  The other children had scurried outside to play, and Jimmy was cleaning up the kitchen. Ruby scanned the room and saw Warren sitting in the window sill, whittling. “Get out of that window and get outside where ya belong, you worthless bastard!”

  “Are you gonna make me?” Warren asked, as he stood on the floor, a daring look in his eyes. Then he chuckled. “Don’t worry. I don’t wanna be in the same room as that little brat, anyway.” He hurried out the back door before Ruby had a chance to catch him and box his ears.

  “I’m gonna beat that smartass kid half to death someday. As soon as I get Lance fed, I’m taking the whip to him. He knows not to sass me.”

  Jimmy placed the last clean plate in the cupboard and said, “Miss Hampton, I’ll take Lance when ya finish feeding him, and you can go take care of Warren. He’s getting too big for his britches.”

  Ruby handed Lance to Jimmy. “Here, put him on your shoulder, pat his back and burp him. I’m gonna go get a piece of Warren.”

  Ruby stood at the back door for a minute, waiting to see if Lance would cry. He didn’t, so she went on her way.

  From that day on, Lance never cried again.

  One day, Ruby picked up Lance, changed his diaper and said, “It’s like you’re dead inside. As dead as Lisa. And I don’t know what to do to make ya come back to life.” She shook her head back and forth. There had never been any problem with a child that she couldn’t fix, but she was perplexed with Lance. “I sure hope time fixes whatever is wrong with ya, little fellow,” she said, as she placed him back into his crib.

  As the months passed, Lance slowly began to show emotions. He had an unusual charm about him, yet there seemed to be something strange going on behind those dark brown eyes. Very strange.

  As the years passed, Ruby Hampton often got goose-bumps when Lance glared at her and held an evil smirk. But when he smiled, it was as if he could light up a room.

  April 1, 1954

  Dear Cousin Willadeen,

  Today is Lance’s 5th birthday. Although he’s a charmer, he’s defiant and headstrong. After a hard spanking, he’ll wrap his arms around my large girth and squeeze, hard, as if he’s thanking me. I get a knot in my throat when he does that, but sometimes I wonder if he hugs me to make me think he’s sorry for being a bad boy, in order to charm me so I’ll go soft. I’m telling you, Lance Jackson will charm his way past Satan, and head straight through the pearly gates no matter how sinful he is here on this earth. He seems to have that power. But his charm isn’t going to work on me. Not that he’ll ever know anyway.

  Sincerely,

  Cousin Ruby

  Chapter Seven

  The summer of Lance’s tenth year, it was his job to go to the garden and pick green peas, but he took his time, knowing Miss Hampton would help him pick so the girls could get them shelled in time to cook for supper.

  He hated the taste of green peas and refused to eat them. One evening, Miss Hampton and Lance had the same battle of wills. “Lance, eat your peas! You’ll be sorry if you don’t.”

  “I ain’t gonna eat them! And I don’t care if you do spank me!” Then he pushed the peas off his plate and one rolled off the table.

  When the pea hit the floor, Miss Hampton jumped from her chair and reached for the long rope that she’d brought inside after it had come loose from the clothes line. She grabbed him by the collar, dragged him into the kitchen closet, tied him to a chair, then shut and locked the door.

  The closet was dark as midnight, and in a few minutes Lance began to feel spiders and mice running across his body. He screamed and cried, but his wails fell on deaf ears. Finally, he heard the door unlock and he cried, “Get the spiders and mice off me!”

  “There ain’t any critters in here, boy,” Miss Hampton said, as she opened the door and switched on the light.

  To Lance’s amazement, there was not a spider or mouse in sight. It was as if the light had caused them to magically disappear.

  “Your imagination is pretty wild, Lance. But I’ve final
ly found a way to control you. The next time you defy me—remember the spiders and mice,” she said, bugging her eyes out as if she were a large rat.

  After Miss Hampton untied him, she sent him to his bedroom, which he didn’t have to share with anybody since Jimmy and Warren had left. He liked it that way. He hated other people being close. He still missed Jimmy though. He gritted his teeth and his palms itched when he thought of Warren. “I still hate you, you mean bastard! I hope someday we meet up again. I’ll choke the living shit right out of ya.”

  Lance reached down and picked up Teddy and climbed into bed. Teddy was a Christmas present he’d received from church on Christmas Eve when he was four-years-old.

  He always slept with Teddy. Teddy was soft and Lance liked to cuddle with him because he wasn’t alive. It was safe to hug a stuffed bear. But Teddy didn’t stop the nightmares that started that night, and he woke up screaming, slapping the rodents and spiders.

  The nightmares continued until he was twelve-years-old.

  The summer of his twelfth year, a stray cat wandered into the front yard. Pets weren’t allowed at Hampton House, because Miss Hampton said they were another mouth to feed and she had enough hungry mouths. Peggy Jo found the cat hiding under the snowball bush and picked it up and brought it over to where the rest of the children were cracking and shelling hickory nuts.

  All of the children tried to take it from her arms at the same time. All but Lance. He wasn’t interested in a stupid cat. However, when it started to purr, he liked the sound. He took it from Peggy Jo and said, “I like her! She makes pretty music.”

  Miss Hampton walked outside, and Lance tried to hide the cat behind his back. “What have ya got there, boy? It sure does have a long tail.”

  Lance pulled the cat from behind him and said, “It’s Mama Cat. She likes me.”

  Peggy Jo said, “Mama Cat has babies in her tummy. I can feel them. And she likes all of us. I’ll give her some of my food and you won’t have to worry about feeding her. Please let us keep her. Please!”

  Miss Hampton stroked the purring animal. “Well, she and her little ones will chase the snakes out of the garden and catch the mice before they make it into the house. Since she’ll serve a purpose, I guess she can stay. But more than likely a tom cat will find the kittens and slit their throats.”

  The children gasped in horror. “I’ll slit a tom cat’s throat if I see him,” Lance declared. The thought of slitting a tom cat’s throat gave him tingles. I’d rather choke it to death, he thought, and his palms began to itch.

  A few days after her arrival, Mama Cat gave birth to four kittens. Lance was fascinated with the tiny creatures and considered them his personal pets. He didn’t know if they were male or female but he named the solid black one, Jimmy Cat.

  Mama Cat made a bed under the snowball bush, and Lance would tenderly stroke the kittens as they nursed. He was excited when they were old enough to open their eyes. He was more excited when they began to follow him around. It was as if they thought he was their big brother. They made him feel special.

  One day, Lance sneaked a spool of thread out of Miss Hampton’s sewing basket and went outside to play with Jimmy Cat. Jimmy Cat was pawing at the thread as Lance dangled it in front of him. Lance kept making the string shorter and shorter. Jimmy Cat jumped up to reach it and his claws struck Lance’s hand, leaving a deep gash with blood oozing out of it.

  Lance became enraged and the anger made his head feel as if it were about to explode. He grabbed the kitten around the throat and squeezed with all the strength in his thumbs. Jimmy Cat’s eyes bugged, his body twisted and flopped, then he fell limp in Lance’s hand. Euphoria filled Lance’s soul. The thrill of the kill was like nothing he’d ever experienced in his life.

  He took Jimmy Cat into the woods and buried him. Then he tied two twigs together with the thread in the shape of a cross and marked the grave. He had given Jimmy Cat a proper burial.

  He wished he hadn’t had to kill his pet but it had to be punished—he’d been a bad kitten. And Miss Hampton said a tom cat would probably find them and slit their throats before long. So, the way he saw it, he had also done Jimmy Cat a favor.

  That summer, a little girl, Bonnie Sue was delivered to the orphanage by an older lady whom Lance figured was her grandma. He thought she was cute but he hoped she didn’t pester him.

  The next day, a little girl, Mary Lou was delivered by a young boy whom Lance figured was her brother. Both girls were four years old and they had rhyming names, so Miss Hampton called them her twins.

  Bonnie Sue and Mary Lou clung to each other and cried if they were separated.

  Lance noticed that Bonnie Sue didn’t mind to leave Mary Lou’s side when she wanted to follow him around. He’d let her trail behind him for a little while, then he’d turn on her, throw his hands in the air, and yell, “Boo!” and she’d run.

  Mary Lou didn’t seem to like Lance and she stayed her distance. Lance didn’t like Mary Lou either.

  Miss Hampton worked Lance as if he were a plow mule. “It’s for your own good. Someday you’ll thank me,” she yelled when he began to drag, so tired he could barely go on with his chores. He’d give Miss Hampton a look that would pierce her soul with his dark brown, evil eyes, then he’d smile as he watched her shiver.

  One day he was chopping wood and Miss Hampton yelled, “You chop wood like a piss-ant. Chop, chop!” she yelled louder, as she clapped her hands.

  Lance had swung the ax until his shoulder blades ached and blisters covered his hands. “I’m doing it as fast as I can. Get off my back, you ugly crone!” Before he realized what he was going to do, he threw the ax, embedding it in the ground between Miss Hampton’s feet. Then his palms began itching.

  Miss Hampton’s face turned scarlet. She pointed her index finger as she yelled, “That was a big mistake, boy! I’ll—”

  “You’ll what?” he yelled, and quickly yanked the ax from the ground, raising it over his head, and squeezing the handle so hard his arms trembled.

  Miss Hampton threw both arms over her head and ran toward the house, her pendulous breasts swaying back and forth. “You crazy, April Fool bastard!” she yelled, with venom in her voice.

  Lance smirked as he watched her hurry up the three steps and almost fall over Bonnie Sue and Mary Lou, who were sitting on the porch steps.

  Lance glanced at the girls huddled together, watching Miss Hampton run, and they slapped their hands over their mouths, trying to stifle giggles, and he laughed too.

  Miss Hampton stood behind the girls, her hands on their heads, and said, “Did you see that? That boy is crazy and no-good. Bonnie Sue, I better not see ya close to him ever again!” Her eyes heated with rage as she went inside.

  The rest of the day Lance fumed as he waited, wanting Miss Hampton to give him another reason to chop her head off. He remembered the many times she had threatened the children, telling them she’d have their heads on the chopping block.

  That night Lance lay on his bed with the window open, enjoying the cool mountain air. The mountain region of North Carolina was hot during the day, but at night it was cool, and the air had an uplifting aroma and it brought him comfort. He had just dozed off when suddenly he felt a sharp pain.

  Miss Hampton had grabbed him by the ear and was dragging him out of bed. With each yell from him, she twisted harder. Lance tried to wrestle free, but his strength was no match for the burly woman who was built like a linebacker.

  Miss Hampton dragged him down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out the back door. She dragged him to the clothesline that had a broken cord hanging to the ground.

  Lance put up a fierce fight, but Miss Hampton managed to get the rope around his wrist and tied him to the pole. She stripped him bare, walked into the woodshed, and took a horsewhip off a nail.

  Lance gnawed at the rope around his wrist but his teeth weren’t sharp enough to chew through it.

  Soon, Miss Hampton began to lash his bare back. On the third lash, he go
t an erection. After three lashes on his bare buttocks, he amply ejaculated upon the ground. He moaned loudly, his body went limp, and his head tucked in to his chest.

  Miss Hampton took off her sweater and draped it around his bare shoulders. She pulled up his pajama bottoms, untied him and led him across the yard.

  He meekly followed, perplexed by the overwhelming sensations of the mixture of pain and pleasure running through his body.

  Miss Hampton led him across the kitchen floor, pulled a chair from the table and said, “Sit,” as if she were training a dog. She stepped to the cupboard and took out a tin of clove ointment.

  Lance sat, shoulders slumped, his back feeling as if a thousand wasps were stinging him. Miss Hampton generously and tenderly rubbed the welts, soothing him with her strong, warm hands.

  After she had coated his back with clove, she turned him by the shoulders, pulled his head to her ample bosom, and stroked his hair, saying, “There, there, Miss Hampton knows it hurts, but I have to strap ya when you get too big for your britches. Father took it to me plenty. You know I do it for your own good.”

  “I know,” he whimpered. “I’m a bad boy.”

  “Go on up to your room,” she said, “I’m not able to bear the sight of the ugly welts on your back.”

  He ambled upstairs, slowly walked down the hall, reliving the awesome sensation, and crawled into bed. A few minutes later he was startled when he felt a small body crawl in beside him.

  Bonnie Sue whispered, “I’m sorry Miss Hampton is mad at ya. I love ya.” She wrapped her small arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.

  Lance loosely hugged the tiny, blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl. “It’s okay. She can’t hurt me. You get back to your room before she catches ya or you’ll get whipped too. She can hurt you because you’re a girl. I’m a boy, so I can take it.”

  Bonnie Sue hurried from the room, and Lance could hear her small feet pattering across the hall to the room she shared with Mary Lou.