by Ella Parks
She had fallen off the porch in her haste to get to him as he lay face down, still, there on the ground, blood seeping from the hole the bullet had opened. Her leg was cut badly. I knew it needed stitches, but all the doctors were fighting to save Mark’s life. Billy and I were trying to get her to lay back, so I could clean the cut, but she didn’t seem to understand. Her eyes were wide, almost unseeing they were so full of horror. Her hair had fallen loose, tumbling black across the bed. Billy leaned into her, whispering soft words I couldn’t understand and didn’t need to, touching her trying to bring her back to some kind of reason, trying to bring her back away from her wide- eyed blank stare. Her leg had to be hurting terribly but she never flinched as I cleaned it the best I could, then pulling the torn tissue as close together as I could get it, knowing it would leave a terrible scar. I had just gotten it wrapped and Billy had brought her back to some saner state of reason when the sheriff came to the door with BJ. They had been rough with him, that was easy enough to see, and she surprised me by her quick movements to protect BJ from another blow to his head. I watched her lean inward BJ, I could tell she whispered something to him, and I watched his lips move as he answered but none of us could hear what was being said. Then she lied to the sheriff, everyone in the room knew she was lying but Billy and I were ready to support her lie, making it our lie also. Billy and I watched her even in her grief setting BJ free and sending him home. I didn’t know if she believed BJ was innocent of the shooting or just couldn’t stand to see her son’s half -brother hurt. I thought about how protective she was of her loved ones and realized she must have believed in his innocence. As I watched her facing the sheriff with him knowing as well as we all did she was lying ,but she stood there steady as she could with her cut leg and broken heart I thought about the day she had stood on her front porch holding only a broom facing a man over twice her size, I thought of what she had told him, how she had stood up for me, calling him out for his horrible actions, standing up for me when even my Mama wouldn’t. I stood there watching her that day, knowing that forever more I would stand for her, never forgetting what she had done for me. She had held me as I cried about how the town would see my baby that would be born without a Father, and she had made a way for me and him. To the people in town I was considered a married woman. I knew they wondered about the truth of the story, but no one questioned me, and my Jimmy and I were well received where ever we went, even in church, which should have been the easiest place to go but sometimes the judgements got in the way of the teachings, sometimes people forgot that God wanted all of us, even those with so many failings and shortcomings. Because of Lucy’s support and the ring, she gave me to wear on my left hand I received respect and men tipped their hats to me and called me ma’am, but most of all my beloved Jimmy could go to school in a small town without being called a bastard child. Lucy gave me a job, and a place to live, while she made me feel loved and welcome and I silently prayed the man we both loved would be alright.
I remember the first time I saw Mark, he was kind and polite to me, holding doors open for me and standing up when I walked into a room. Once he brought me a pillow to put behind my back when the weight of my swollen stomach caused me to ache. It started out simple enough, his kindness drew me. At the beginning I wondered if Lucy had told him my story, but I remembered her saying she would not tell anyone about bringing me the ring, so the ring saved me with public opinion but left him believing I was a married woman. There were times at we set quietly talking as friends will do, I wanted to tell him the truth, but a part of me feared he would think less of me if he knew what I had done. So, I never said anything, he never asked about little Jimmy’s Father, and I never said anything about the way I felt for him. We would talk for hours, but never about those two things. He was good to Jimmy too, but so was everyone. Everyone treated both of us like we had always been family. Sometimes I let my mind drift into hoping Mark might want me the way I wanted him, sometimes I would imagine being in his arms, being more than friends, but I always stayed silent. Then Megan came into our lives, and she wanted him too. She was bolder than I was, seemly having much more to offer in the way of charms, so I watched her as she came between Mark and Markus, causing so much hurt to the both of them. I watched her tease them with more than smiles, going first to one and then the other.
Sometimes around nine someone would stop by for another cup of coffee bypassing the large table in the dining room to set at the small table in the kitchen where I was always busy preparing lunch for everyone. Markus and Megan came in one morning, Megan never paid much attention to me other than telling me what she wanted while expecting me to serve her. I poured each of them a cup, placing the cream and sugar close, knowing what they each wanted in their coffee before going back to the sink to peel potatoes. My back was turned to them, but the silence got my attention, causing me to look toward around. They were setting opposite each other, she had kicked her shoes off and had her foot in his lap, moving it slowly back and forth against him. The cloth on the table wasn’t long enough to hide what she was doing to him under the table.
My face burned with embarrassment as I turned back around to the sink. It wasn’t long before he asked her if she was though with her coffee, his voice low and hoarse. I heard them going up the stairs toward his room. The next morning, she came in with Mark smiling at me, but it was not a pretty smile as she gave me a look I couldn’t understand. I went about my work while just as the day before, the conversation stopped. I turned toward them about the she put her foot in his lap. Blood burned my face as I turned to leave the kitchen. I heard him say.
“Stop that! You don’t need to act like that around her. She is a decent woman.”
“Decent, what do you mean by that?”
I didn’t wait to hear the answer walking fast to the living room, not going back into the kitchen until I was sure they were gone, but he didn’t take her up the stairs like Markus had the day before.
He wasn’t on the porch in his usual place that night, as I sat there alone, I wondered if he was with her. I sat quietly wiping tears from my face as I pictured him holding her close against him.
As the days passed Megan continued to flirt shameless with both of them, while they continued to challenge each other with their eyes. Mark and Markus were getting farther and farther apart while Megan seemed to enjoy being the wedge pushing them. They were still careful around Lucy, but I knew she would notice it soon. Then BJ got hurt and Lucy spent hours with him, doing much more than she had or even needed to do. I had seen her face as Lillie was wailing about his Father not wanting him, causing me to wonder if Lucy was trying to make up for a problem she didn’t create.
A few nights later I was setting in the rocker on the porch, looking out at the shadows the night had cast. The moon was full and luminous, fireflies were floating around the yard and I could hear treefrogs in the distance calling out for rain when Mark walked to over to me pulling the rocker beside me close before he sat down letting his breath escape in a sigh.
“It is a beautiful night.” He said in a voice that made me wonder if he was enjoying the beauty or just making polite conversation. I could sense more than see the strain on his face.
“Yes, it is.”
Neither of us said anything for a few moments, me lost in my thoughts as I supposed he was. I broke the silence.
“You seem to be worried about something. Is everything alright?”
“Not really Molly, not really.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“No, I don’t think so, but it means a great deal to me that you would ask.”
I opened my mouth to tell him I would always do what I could for him, but his next words stopped mine.
“How does your husband stay away from you for so long? I know it is none of my business and I have never asked but I wonder why he leaves you so long.”
I felt my breath catch in my throat.
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br /> “I am sorry,” he said, “I should not have asked you a thing like that. Forgive me, please.”
“No, it’s alright. It’s a logical question, but the truth is, I don’t have a husband.”
“Is he dead?”
“No, he isn’t dead. I never had a husband.” He turned facing me, his eyes questioning as he pointed to my ring.
“You wear a wedding ring.”
“Yes, your Mother had Billy buy it for me.”
“Why, why would she do that?”
“Because of Jimmy, so he would be accepted, so he would never have to be ashamed of a Mother that was not married, so I could walk with my head up, so I wouldn’t be judged each day.”
“Tell me,” was all he said.
I didn’t think to condense or to shorten my story. I took a deep breath and the flood gates of sorrow opened as I started telling him about my Daddy dying and how everything else had happened. I didn’t spare him the details, none of them, and somewhere in my story he got up from his rocker, kneeling by mine, holding me as I sobbed. I told him how Ralph had treated me, I told him how Jimmy’s Father had promised he loved me. I told him how scared I had been, and I told him how his Mother had saved me.
“I wish I had known, oh how I wish I had known. It would have changed so many things. I always thought you were married.”
“What would it have changed?” I asked, but a sudden sound caught our attention, stopping him from answering. The porch was large, wrapping around three sides of the big house, and there were chairs everywhere for setting to cool and relaxing. It sounded like someone had bumped one, not as if they were moving it to set in, but like it was mistakenly bumped, while silence followed. We both looked in the direction the noise had come from, waiting to see who was there. There were no more sounds just a slight shadow of movement in the moonlight. He sat back down in his rocker, both of us silence, listening, and in a few minutes, we noticed a shadow move around the building closest to us. He stepped off the porch calling out.
“Who is there?” No one answered and somehow the silence seemed threatening.
“Let’s go in tonight.” He said as he took my hand helping me out of the chair. “We will talk tomorrow. I promise.” I nodded my agreement and turned to go inside when he whispered, “Molly.”
“Yes,” I said before his lips covered mine. The kiss lasted a lifetime or seconds, I don’t know which it was, but the feel of his lips on mine turned my world upside down, making me realize that I had never been kissed in that way before. I could have never pulled away from him, but he moved back away from me looking into my eyes, whispering my name before kissing me again and again before he stepped away, telling me again we would talk tomorrow.
We didn’t talk the next day. When he came down for breakfast, he touched my shoulder, slow almost rubbing before his hands moved to my chin in a caress causing a wonderful shiver though out my body. We all sat down together, eating like we always did, except his eyes kept meeting mine, causing my hands to shake and my heart to sing. I kept thinking about the way he kissed me, eagerly waiting for night time because I knew he would come to me then. The day seemed to drag as I lost myself in the promise of his touch that morning. Later that day I heard Lucy talking to Megan, I heard her anger when she told her to get out. I didn’t have to wonder why. I hovered close but didn’t go into the living room where Lucy was. Doc had been with her a few minutes when the shot rang out. I had run out to see what was going on, seeing my love laying still on the ground.
20
It seemed like hours we set there waiting but in reality, it was not that long before Doc came into the room, his dear face ravaged with grief and fatigue. We all stood up walking to meet him, my breathing seemed to stop as I waited for him to speak.
“He is alive Lucy, I got the bullet out, without any more complications I believe he will be alright, but there was a problem. The bullet damaged him, and I don’t know if he will ever be able to walk again.”
I heard my breath catch as he went on. “There are different ideas now about the ability of being able to walk after an injury of this sort. We won’t be able to tell for a while. I am so sorry Lucy. I did the best I could, but the bullet just caused too much damage, but he is alive Lucy, he is alive.”
Tears flooded my face as I whispered. “That is enough Doc, that is enough. I am so thankful he is alive. Where is Markus?” I asked not waiting for him to answer. I said.
“How did he hold up helping you?”
“I was hard for him, hard for both of us. We love Mark, it’s hard to operate on someone you love that much.”
“I know Doc. I know.”
“After we finished the surgery and cleaned Mark up, Markus left the room, I am not sure where he went but I know he is hurting bad.”
“Which one needs me the most right now?” He understood my question.
“Mark is still asleep and will be for a while longer. Markus is eaten up with guilt, maybe he needs you first.”
“I will go set with Mark, you go find Markus my love.” Billy said as he kissed my forehead. Dear Molly, broke in saying. “I’ll go with you, I’ll set with Mark too.”
I reached for Doc pulling him close to me and kissing his dear cheek.
“Thank you, Doc for saving him, thank you for loving us, thank you for being who and what you are. I love you so!”
“I love you too my Lucy girl. Go now and see to your boys.”
21
BJ
My head hurt with a horrible splitting pain that would not go away. I had suffered headaches since the accident, but this one was much worse. Lucy had told me to go home to rest. I had done as she said, for several reasons, one being the pain was crippling me and I was also afraid the sheriff would change his mind and come for me. Mama was fussing over me, talking about the injustice of someone beating me up. She still didn’t know where I had been or who had beaten me. I was too sick to talk, each word causing bile to come up in my throat. What little light it was in the room seemed to be ripping at my eyes while my thoughts burned as bad as my head did. I dreaded telling her where I had been and what I had been doing there. I loved my Mama, and unlike most of the town, I did not judge her for who or how she loved. I didn’t always understand her, and sometimes believed she had many things wrong, still I loved her. My mind floated with the pain, remembering her hatred of Lucy. I remembered her taking us to what we called the big house, walking up on the porch and waiting until Lucy came to the door. I was young, but the growling of my stomach hurt me as we waited. I remember Mama’s words, and I remember Lucy’s as well. I looked in the house taking note of all the furnishing, comparing it to what we had. I wondered about the man my Mama loved, my Father as well as the Father of the boys inside. What was the difference between us? Why did he claim them and not us? I asked myself that question many times growing up, but I never found any answers. When I got older, I realized he did support us when he remembered to do so. He paid for the house we lived in and while it was nothing to compare to the big house it was beyond what many of the neighbors had. He left Mama with money to feed us, most of the time. She didn’t have to work or take in laundry, but her bitterness grew each day, each time he left she cried until her tears seemed to go inward causing something to break in her. I had so much curiosity about the boys I knew were my brothers. I was older than they were, but I still sought them out in school befriending them, asking questions, needing a connection to them while not understanding why or what I was needing from them. At home Mama would curse them and the woman she said took her love from her, causing me to accept my need for my brothers but teaching me to hate their Mother. He came to us a few weeks before he died, and I heard him telling her he was sick. He said the prison had taken its toll on him. He blamed Lucy for his being there, his tone full of bitterness. He promised he would remember Mama, and remember us, for once he did remember us. He gave her a sm
all book from the bank in town, and I heard him tell her our house was paid for and what was in the bank would be enough to take care of us. I stood in the next room, a man now but as confused as any boy, wanting to protect my Mama still not understanding. I will never forget the words I heard them say that afternoon. Mama was crying, and I wanted to go to her, but needing to hear what was being said.
“Stay here with me. You say you are sick, and I will take care of you. I love you. I have always loved you. I have given you boys, good boys, please stay with me.”
I didn’t dare breathe in case I couldn’t hear what he said to her, but I need not have worried, his voice was strong as he said.
“No Lilly, I am going on home. I am going back to Lucy. She has given me boys too, good boys. That is where I belong. I am leaving you enough to take care of what I might owe you for your loving me and now I’ll be going back home to Lucy.”
“Why, she has never loved you like I do, never in all these years has she loved you.”
“You are right Lilly, she never has, and she never will, but fact is, I love her and have since the first time I saw her. You have been good to me, that’s the truth, and I have some feelings for you. I just love her more, I just love her more.”
His words troubled me, making me realize how little I understood love, making me wonder why he would say he loved Lucy more, while admitting Mama had treated him much better.
I heard Mama moan, a low anguished sound as he walked out the door leaving her there. I don’t think she saw him anymore until the day of the funeral where I watched her grief as she said her final goodbyes to him, grieving much more than the widow wearing black. After he was gone more people seemed inclined to discuss how he had made his money and how he had taken Lucy for a bride. I wondered if my Mama knew all that and realized she must, but I love my Mama, and I never asked her, letting my dislike of Lucy go on. Then I had the accident, and they took me to the hospital she had built with the money my Father had left her. I don’t remember all of it, but I remember Lucy feeding me broth, setting by my bedside. I remember opening my eyes as she held my hand to her lips praying for me. It is hard to keep the hate burning during all that. We didn’t talk. I didn’t tell her I was beginning to understand but the need to thank her grew in me until I went there today. I didn’t know how she would receive me, and I waited behind one of the small houses, trying to find the courage to go knock on the door. I saw who shot him and I was trying to tell the sheriff when they started hitting me. I saw the rifle being raised and taking aim. At first, I thought maybe some wild animal had drifted into the yard. I couldn’t consider anything else. Then I saw him walking across the yard. I didn’t know if it was Mark or Markus, but I saw the rifle pointing toward him. I screamed out, but the sound was lost in the noise of the gun. I have to go back. I have to tell someone, but I am scared no one will believe what I have to say. I am scared they will think it was me. My stomach came up in my throat causing me to vomit until there was nothing left in me, except the bitterness of bile as I heaved bringing up nothing else; but could not stop the spasms that made me writhe in pain fearing something had broken in my chest. I heard the loud sounds of someone knocking at the door, but my misery was too much for me to move from my prone kneeling over the pan by the bed. The sounds coming from me as the dry heaves kept going on and on were disgusting, turning my stomach even more. I could hear parts of the conversation as Mama talked to the sheriff.