DarkHeart of Hampton House

by Joy Redmond

  Lance wondered if Kitty Mae thought he was supposed to thank Lucy.

  Lucy smiled, looked at Lance, and said, “I sure did. I wasn’t exactly sure how to do it, but I ripped the end of the bed sheet, tied the cord, then cut it with a butcher knife. I reckon I was thinking fast that day. I done a good job, if I say so myself.”

  Lance grunted. His tongue seemed to be paralyzed.

  Kitty Mae continued, “Rob Roy was passed out drunk when ya came into this world. But the next morning when I didn’t have his breakfast fixed, and Lucy was off to school, he came looking for me.”

  Lance ran his hand through his hair, wondering why he had bothered to find Kitty Mae. He didn’t want to hear anymore, but she seemed hell-bent on telling every sordid detail. Why doesn’t she shut up? Can’t she see I’m turning colors, ready to toss my cookies?

  Kitty Mae wasn’t looking at Lance at that moment. She twisted her dress hem, and fresh tears welled, but she managed to continue. “I had ya at my breast and he started shouting, ‘Get that gawddamn bastard out my house.’” Then she looked upward and whispered, “I’m sorry, Lord. I wasn’t taking your name in vain, I was just repeating.”

  Lance squirmed. He tried to find his voice, but the idea of being a product of incest paralyzed him. Ruby Hampton was right. I am crazy. All inbreeds are crazy.

  Lucy grabbed Lance’s empty glass, hurried across the floor and attempted to refill it. Her hands trembled and she spilled tea over the countertop. She wiped it with a towel and began to fill again as she loudly said, “Sister, tell him why you had to take him to Hampton House. It was because—”

  Kitty Mae gave her sister a firm look and said, “Sister, I’m coming to that part. This is my job.” She focused on Lance’s pale face. “When ya was two weeks old I was breastfeeding ya when Rob Roy come into my room, and he was in a rage. And for the first time in my life, I saw fear in his eyes. He said he got a letter from Mama saying she was coming home. He said that Mama weren’t no fool and she’d figure out how ya come to be. Then he grabbed ya from my arms, held ya by your heels and said he was gonna bang your brains out against the wall.” Suddenly, Kitty Mae’s head lolled, as if she were teetering on the brink of death, ready to hit the floor.

  Lance’s first instinct was to grab her, but he couldn’t make himself move. Why am I such a pussy when it comes to this woman?

  Lucy patted Kitty Mae’s face and said, “I’m used to sister fainting, or near fainting when she recalls the day her son was almost killed before her very eyes.”

  A few minutes passed and Lance could only stare and shake his head. Then Kitty Mae held her head erect, her composure regained, and said. “Where was I?”

  Lucy said, “You was talking about bangin’ his brains—”

  “Oh, yeah,” Kitty Mae said, then went on with her story. “I fell to my knees and begged him not to kill ya. I promised I’d get rid of ya before Mama came home, and she’d never know about ya. I promised I’d never tell a living soul about ya if he’d let ya live. He was swingin’ ya by your heels, and with each swing he came closer to the wall with your tiny head—” Her head dropped again and Lucy grabbed her.

  Lance sat frozen. It was the craziest thing he’d ever seen. The two craziest women he’d ever met.

  Kitty Mae raised her head, grabbed the glass and swigged her tea. She set the glass back on the table and her eyes focused on Lance’s face. “Well, he dropped ya and I caught ya in midair before ya hit the floor and busted wide open. He left the room still cussin’ and tellin’ me I better hurry up and get ya out the house or he was comin’ back. So I got dressed, dressed you, then I put you in a picnic basket and I walked all the way to Hampton House, a good eight miles. I pinned a note on your shirt telling your name and when ya was born.”

  Lance banged his fist on the table and yelled, spittle flying. “But you didn’t come back for me! You left me there for eighteen years!” His face was so red it burned and he wondered if he might be on the verge of a stroke. “Why? Just tell me why you never came back for me!”

  Kitty Mae’s eyes flashed. “Don’t ya yell at me, boy. Ain’t no man gonna yell at me no more. Son or no son, I won’t stand for it.” Her eyes glared like hot coals.

  Lance turned up the second glass of tea. He needed whiskey. He needed air. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. He wanted to hit something or somebody. He clinched his fist, but the look in Kitty Mae’s eyes deflated him again.

  “If you wanna hear the reason I didn’t come for ya, then don’t be havin’ no fits. I’m doin’ my best,” she said, her eyes hard. “When I was eighteen, I met this nice man, Robert Aldridge, and I fell crazy mad in love. He asked me to marry him. I accepted his proposal, but I couldn’t tell him about you because he wouldn’t have wanted me. No man wants damaged goods. I was supposed to be a virgin, not a teenager with a baby. Well, I must’ve got pregnant on my wedding night, ‘cause I had me a little girl, nine months to the day later. Then ten months after she was born, I had another girl—”

  Lance interrupted. “So, you had two girls and you had no need for me, huh?” he asked with a sneer.

  Kitty Mae calmly continued, “Nah, that ain’t it at all. My husband would have left me and took my girls if I ever let it be known I had a son born out of wedlock. He was very religious. And I still had to protect Mama from the terrible truth. If she’d a known, it would have killed her soul.”

  Lance jumped from the chair and kicked it across the room. “You gutless, spineless, chicken-shit-bitch! You couldn’t tell a pious husband about me? You couldn’t let your precious girls know they had a bastard brother? You couldn’t let your mama know she had a grandson? Goddamn it! I guess your God wouldn’t have wanted you to hurt your family. But it was okay with God and you to hurt me, huh?” he yelled.

  He began to pace the floor. Then he strolled to the back door and peered out the window for a few seconds before slamming his fist into the door.

  Kitty Mae stared at Lance, then firmly stated, “You’re acting like Rob Roy, and I don’t hold any regards for a non-God-fearing person who takes the Lord’s name in vain.”

  Lance walked back to the table, stood over Kitty Mae and said, “Well, where is your holier-than-thou husband? Is he gonna come busting in with a shotgun? Or is God, the smitey-smiter, gonna strike me dead?” He spread his fingers out and wiggled them like they were antennas of a wrathful god, ready to attack.

  Lucy ran from the room.

  Kitty Mae stood her ground and her voice was calm as she answered, “My husband is dead. So is Mama. So is Rob Roy. They all died eight years ago, and they all died within the same month as strange as it was.” She stared into space.

  Lance edged closer, raised his arms over her head as if she were a dead rabbit, and he was a vulture ready to scoop down and grab her.

  Kitty Mae didn’t seem to notice that Lance was ready to pounce. She continued. “After everybody was dead, I went to Hampton House to claim ya, but I missed ya by two days. I did come back for ya just like I promised, but I was too late,” she said, and tears rolled down her face.

  Lance balled his fists and rubbed his eyes in a pretend cry. “Oh, boo-hoo. I’m so sorry.” His condescending tone and bitterness was so heavy it hung in the air like fog as he said, “I hope you and sister and your two precious daughters have a happy life, and I’ll be taking—”

  Before he finished his sentence, Lucy crept back into the kitchen. “I got a picture of your grandma and grandpa if’n ya care to see them. They are your kin.”

  Lance stood for a few seconds, then as if he had no control over his own hand he reached for the picture. He stared at it, thinking his grandma looked like a sweet woman. But Grandpa-Daddy had hard mean eyes. “I bet I sacked groceries for him when I worked at the A&P, when I was a kid. Oh, if only I had known—” He dropped the picture as if it were a hot coal.

  Lucy picked it up. “I’ll put it away. I just thought you’d like to see your grandparents. I didn’t mean no harm. But he did sh
op at the A&P. I’m glad ya didn’t know who he was—”

  Kitty Mae interrupted. “I thought we agreed to burn every picture of Rob Roy. I sure don’t wanna look at him or be reminded of him.”

  “I only kept this one ‘cause Mama is in it. I don’t wanna look at his evil face either. I just wanna see Mama,” Lucy meekly answered.

  Kitty Mae shot Lucy a hard look, “Did ya think about cutting him out and just keeping Mama? Sometimes you’re so—” Kitty stopped talking.

  Lance shook his head, wondering if they were both half-wits, then said, “I’ll take my leave now.” He gave a slight salute with his infamous smirk. He almost ran as he made his way through the living room and out the front door.

  Once outside he held his head, mumbling, “Kitty Mae can go to hell along with her pious husband, her wimpy mother, and my daddy-granddaddy who is an incestuous lowlife animal!” He spat on the ground.

  He glanced back at the house and saw Kitty Mae looking out the window in the living room, holding one hand to her chest. Then he got into the car and drove away, spinning wheels.

  ***

  Kitty Mae held her heart and said, “My son is lost to me forever this time.” She wiped a tear and deeply sighed. “He’s the spawn of the devil for sure. He has a dark heart.”

  Lucy eased her way beside Kitty Mae. “I’m so sorry, sister, but old Rob Roy is his daddy. You really can’t expect him to be any more than he is.”

  “Yeah,” Kitty Mae whispered. “My boy never stood a chance. But I love him.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Lance sped up Plum Street as if he were practicing for the Indianapolis 500. His head felt as if someone were banging him with a sledgehammer. He wiped his hand over his face, slung sweat from his brow, and felt his stomach knotting up again. He had to find a liquor store, fast. He wanted cocaine, but he couldn’t take a chance on asking around. He remembered Mr. Wiggins warning him about narks. He was amid the religious in the bible-belt now, a far cry from California where cocaine flowed like water.

  Three blocks away he spied a liquor store. He kept his head tucked as he pulled up to the drive-through window and ordered his poison. When the man came back to the window with a brown sack, Lance quickly handed the man a twenty dollar bill and said, “Keep the change.” He grabbed the fifth of Jack Daniels’s and pulled away.

  As he drove down the street, he uncapped the bottle and swigged. The whiskey burned his throat and stung all the way to his stomach. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and began to mellow. “I’ve got to get out of this part of the country. Mexico? Yeah, why not,” he said with a grin. “Collect my shit and get.”

  He turned into the lane that led to Hampton House, the sun hitting him in the eyes. He was angry at himself for forgetting his shades. He adjusted the sun visor and squinted. He saw Bonnie Sue sitting on the stoop as if she were waiting to bombard him with stupid questions. He squeezed the steering wheel.

  “I’ll have to shut her up for good if she doesn’t watch it.” The thought of strangling her, dumping her limp, lifeless body into Yadkin River, gave him a chill instead of a thrill. He had a flashback of a four year old, blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl kissing him after he had been lashed by ole Ruby. He turned the bottle up and took another long swig.

  He parked the car in front of Hampton House, stepped out and staggered a bit.

  Bonnie Sue jumped up, ran to the car, smoothing her hair, smiling. She saw the whiskey bottle that Lance was holding by the long neck, and her smile faded. She backed up a bit as if the bottleneck were Satan sticking out of the paper bag.

  “What the hell is wrong?” Lance said. He reached his arm toward her. “Come here,” he said, grabbing her around the waist, pulling her to him, then kissed her soundly on the mouth. He lifted his lips and mumbled, “You’ve got sweet lips, baby.”

  Bonnie Sue blushed and had trouble finding her voice before meekly saying, “Miss Hampton don’t allow no evil spirits in her house.”

  He mimicked her with a whiney voice, “Miss Hampton don’t allow no evil spirits in her house. Look around you, girl. Do you see Ruby Hampton? I don’t see her anywhere. I can drink all I want in this house or any other damn house. Ruby Hampton doesn’t rule me. Nobody tells me what I can or can’t do. Got that?” He staggered across the yard and up the three steps. He stood on the porch, cocking his head back and forth as if he wasn’t sure where he was.

  Bonnie Sue headed toward him, stood on the bottom step and whispered as if she were talking to herself. “The evil spirits are making you act and talk mean. Miss Hampton always warned me to be leery of men who drank because they were evil to the core and they’d break my heart in more ways than I could imagine. I think I know what she was talking about now.”

  Lance chuckled and walked inside the house. A few seconds later he stuck his head out the door and yelled, “Hey, Bonnie Sue. Get your sexy ass in here. I need some loving,” as he grabbed his crotch.

  He watched in amusement as she stood there, too stunned to make her feet move. Then he walked inside, sat on the couch and waited for her to join him. He propped his feet on the coffee table. Then a horrifying image flashed through his head. He lifted his feet off the table and reached for the photo album. He quickly flipped to the last page. He picked up the picture of the lone man and looked closely at the face. “Oh, hell no! It can’t be!” He studied the face again. “Sweet Jesus! It’s him. It’s the same motherfucker. No doubt about it. But why is his picture in ole Ruby’s album?”

  He grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniel’s and drained the bottle, almost strangling on the hot liquid. Then he reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out his pill pouch. He fumbled through it trying to find a lude. His hands shook, his vision blurred, and he just grabbed two of whatever they were. At this point he didn’t know one from another, and he didn’t care.

  He laid his pounding head against the back of the couch for a few minutes and closed his eyes, willing the face of the low-life bastard in the picture to go away.

  Suddenly, a case of the silly giggles overcame him and he felt the urge to act like a monkey.

  Bonnie Sue made it inside the house. “What?” she managed to say, holding her hand to her mouth as she giggled.

  Lance was swinging on the banister like a chimpanzee, laughing.

  “Oh, Lordy be!” she said.

  He dropped to the floor and crouched like a playful puppy circling her on all fours. Then he rolled onto his back and laughed in hysteria.

  “Lance, ya silly thing. Now ya be actin’ like the kid I remember. You used to beat your chest and do a monkey yell. You sure change moods, quick. I never know what to expect out of ya.”

  Lance sat up, his personality changing again. He winked and pulled himself from the floor using the banister post. He took a few steps toward her and gently put his arm around her shoulder, saying sweetly, “Go get in the bathtub and use the lavender bath salts. Shampoo your hair and shave your legs. I want you clean, smelling good and your legs smooth as a baby’s ass. You ain’t ever gonna forget this day, honey.”

  “Okay. I sure will. I’ll have myself ready in no time. I’ll be the sweetest smelling thing in Hampton House. Beside you, that is,” she said with a giggle.

  Lance grabbed his head and slumped onto the bottom step. Bonnie Sue’s giggles wracked his nerves, but he was horny, and she was handy.

  He ambled upstairs and staggered into his old bedroom. He fished through his pant pockets and found the Talwin. He popped two into his mouth and swallowed hard. He stood for a minute, then stripped and stretched across the bed with his arms over his head, his eyes tightly closed.

  ***

  Bonnie Sue’s legs trembled as she walked down the hall with only a bath towel wrapped around her slim body. She stepped into Lance’s room and abruptly stopped in the doorway.

  Lance was lying flat on his back, his mouth open, and snoring louder than Miss Hampton. She backed out of the room, descended the stairs and headed for Miss Hampton�
�s bedroom. She dressed, sat on the edge of the bed, buried her head in her hands and softly cried. Then she remembered Miss Hampton telling her the first time was very painful. She remembered how Miss Hampton’s eyes seemed to reflect that pain. Bonnie Sue had always wondered how Miss Hampton knew, but she never asked.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Lance slept until two o’clock in the afternoon. He roused and blinked, not sure where he was for a few seconds. Then he made his way down the hall and into the bathroom. He wiped his face with a cool washcloth and brushed his teeth. His headache was gone and he was hungry.

  “Damn, those nightmares are getting worse,” he mumbled as he headed back down the hall. He deeply inhaled and caught the scent of fried chicken. He dressed in jeans, a blue-and-white button down shirt and white sneakers.

  He hurried downstairs, walked into the kitchen, pulled a chair out and sat down at the table. “Something sure smells good. You’re a good cook Bonnie Sue. What else are you good at?” he asked, lifting his right eyebrow up and down.

  “Nothing, I don’t suppose,” she answered in a pouting tone. She scampered across the floor with a plate piled with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans and coleslaw. She set the plate of steaming food in front of him, pulled a chair, propped her elbows on the table, and stared into Lance’s eyes.

  Lance ignored her. Crazy thoughts were running through his head. He was having a hard time separating truth from dreams. He decided to dismiss it all. He needed to concentrate on other things.

  He ate in silence, glad that Bonnie Sue had learned to keep her non-stop trap shut. When he had finished off the last bite, he placed his fork on the plate, reared the chair on its back legs, and locked his hands behind his head. “Good grub, sweetie,” he said with a wink. “By the way, do you know where ole Ruby keeps her important papers?” he asked, his eyes dancing with charm.

  “Well, I guess they’d be in her desk. The one in her bedroom. I can go look, but I’d feel like I was snooping. I’ll let you poke through the drawers. I’ve never opened or touched anything in her desk.”