Joyce runs over to my bed, jumps behind me and presses her back against the wall. “Should we go see who it is?” My sister had her brave moments, but they didn’t always happen at the right time. Right now wasn’t one of those times for her to be brave.
“No, let mama go first. Go to your safe place.”
“Joseph Marks! Open this damn door before I kick it in!” the voice booms. Both of us jump and Joyce runs back to her side of the room. Rolling over in my bed and dropping to the floor, I scoot under my safe place. Taking a deep breath in, all of the dust makes me sneeze.
Now, I regret not cleaning under here as good as I should have. Pushing the blanket up and looking towards the door, those pink slippers quickly run by. Before she can get all the way down the steps, the unwanted guest has started to invite themselves in. The banging ends and is followed by a loud crash.
“Where is Joey?!” A male’s voice screams along with the sound of the front door meeting the hardwood floor. “You have 3 seconds to tell me where that no-good son of yours is before it gets ugly in here!” Not sure who could be this upset so early in the morning, but he definitely means business.
What has Joey has gotten himself into now? Whatever it is, I’m sure he did it. Papa usually leaves for work before everyone wakes up and I begin to get scared for mama being downstairs alone with this crazy person.
“MY DOOR! You couldn’t wait a few seconds for me to put some clothes on and get down here?! Now, who’s gonna pay for this to get fixed? And what is this nonsense about Joey so early in the morning?” Her voice is shaking and the screams only get louder. I hear her struggling to pick the door up only for it to fall again.
“You’re drunk. You need to leave. If you want to speak to Joey, you can when his father gets home,” says mama.
I can’t let mama be down there too long by herself. “Stay here and don’t move unless you hear one of us scream for help. If we do, go into their room and call papa to come home.” Sliding from underneath the bed and heading towards the door, I quietly make my way downstairs.
The vanity makes me stop. My palms are sweaty and my hair is a mess. My right eye begins to twitch and there is a pain in my bottom lip. “We don’t have time for this right now, Mary. Go help mama,” I whisper. Tip toeing down the rest of the stairs, there is a hole staring back at me where the front door used to be.
Will. Fat belly, baldheaded Will. He works with papa and is always drunk. His hands are in his pockets and there’s water dripping from all over him but it’s not raining outside.
“I want to speak with him now! Quite frankly, this doesn’t concern you, so I would advise you to get your husband and son home now so we can settle this matter!” Will is always loud. So much for using inside voices.
“Now, you know Joe works early in the morning. The same place you should be! Either tell me what’s going on or get the hell out before I call the police!” says Mama while backing up into her plant and knocking it over. Dirt spills everywhere and the pot breaks into tiny pieces. Dropping to the floor after trying to catch it, she begins to cry.
Mr. Baldheaded Will stops pacing, looks down at mama and walks towards her. Making my way down the last step, I walk towards the both of them. Mama is still on the floor and holds her hand up to stop me.
“This doesn’t concern you. Everything is fine. Now, go on back upstairs and get yourself cleaned up for breakfast.” Standing still and refusing to leave her with this looney bird, she gives up and tosses dirt at his pants.
Turning to look at me, he pauses. The look on his face doesn’t seem angry anymore. He just stares at me and doesn’t say anything. My heart starts to beat really fast and I’m sure they both can hear it. “Do you know where your brother is, Joyce? Shit. I meant Mary.”
“She doesn’t know where he is, so get the hell on somewhere!” screamed mama.
Ignoring her, he walks over to me and bends down in my face. His breath smells so bad that it forces me to take a step back. Turning my head away from the smell, Joyce is standing next to the vanity. Will follows my head movement to see what I’m looking at. “Is Joey up there?” he whispers.
Before I could answer, Papa walks through the hole.
“Will, in my office. Now.”
*******************************************************************************
“Were you scared, Mary?” Looking up from the bathroom sink, Joyce is standing in the doorway with swollen eyes. She sniffles and keeps talking. “What did Joey do? Where is he at?”
Joey sneaks out in the middle of the night almost every night, so there are a number of places he could be. I’m sure he’ll be here any minute now trying to sneak his way back in.
“Scared? For mama, yes. I’m sure papa will fix everything. Don’t worry about it,” I say.
The sun has finally decided to get out of bed and is shining through the bathroom on my shoulder. Walking over towards the window, I open it. Taking in its morning breath, the breeze pushes my hair back. Lying my head on the windowsill, a touch on my back makes me jump.
“Do you want to look in the mirror today?” whispers Joyce.
Lifting my head up and looking back towards the mirror, I nod. We both stand in front of the sink. I stare and then the sweating begins. It’s hard to breathe and my throat feels tight. My head tells me to let some air in and to look away but my heart tells me to keep staring. Her hand touches my shoulder and she turns towards our reflection.
“You have to breathe, Mary.” We haven’t done this together in a long time. Taking my hand, she repeats herself. “You have to breathe, or the same thing will happen like last time,” said Joyce.
“Does your head hurt yet?” Joyce asks. This always happens. It’s the same feeling every time we do this. Forcing myself to blink, my knees feel weak. Stumbling into the shower curtain, she catches me before I fall in.
“We have to be careful,” she whispers.
“Okay, you’re right. Who knows what he’ll do if he finds out again?” I say.
“Find out what?” Look who’s home. Looking as if he has just got done rolling around with a bunch of pigs, Joey stands in the doorway and is dirty as usual. I just don’t understand why someone would want to go around looking like that all the time.
“Nothing” we both say at the same time. He stares as if he doesn’t believe us.
“It doesn’t look like nothing in here. Tell me or I’m going to tell them what you’re up here doing.” Joey is just about as smart as a bag of rocks. Doesn’t know what we’re are doing but he’s willing to go make up a story. What an idiot.
“None of your business, so just leave. I’m using the bathroom.” I try to close the door in Joey’s face. Sticking his foot in the crack of the door, he pushes it back open.
“You think you can just do whatever you want, huh? You’re just a child. You better tell me or...”
“OR WHAT?!?” I scream at the top of my lungs. He constantly bothers me for no reason. Breathing hard, I lower my voice so that Mama can’t hear, “If you don’t get out of here, I’ll tell them about that stupid shed you keep going to.”
The look on his face told me that Mama and Papa didn’t know about it. Looking past the dirt, his skin turns pale. Now that I know this is one of his secrets, I wish I would have said this a long time ago. Maybe he would’ve been left me alone.
His bright blue eyes stare me down for a few seconds and for a moment, he looked like the devil himself. The hair on my arms stand up and before I know it, Joey has his hands around my neck. The more I struggle to get free, the tighter he squeezes. Falling to the floor and clawing at his face, I feel his skin roll up underneath my nails.
He’s going to kill me. My eyes begin to burn. I can hear Joyce screaming for help.
“JOEY, LET GO! MAMA! PAPA! HELP! HELP!!” screams Joyce. It’s as if no one hears her.
Trying my best to kick the floor as hard as I can, the smell of burning bacon instantly hits me and I hear the slippers scurry. He sta
rts to jerk my neck around and bangs my head on the black and white tile. Over...and over…and over again.
Mama. She struggles to pull Joey off me with the help of Joyce beating on his back as if it were a drum. He finally gives. The air slowly comes back through my throat and I can’t stop coughing. My chest burns so bad and my ears hurt.
Jumping up as if nothing just happened, Joey runs out of the bathroom and down the stairs. The cries of mama and Joyce force me to keep my eyes shut from seeing their faces. The look I know they will have will only make me feel worse. Rolling over on my side and touching the back of my head, it’s wet. Forcing myself to finally open my eyes, the tiles have gained another color.
“Mama, we have to take her to the hospital!” screams Joyce. My whole body hurts. We argue all the time but not once has Joey attacked me like this. Yea, he can be a bully but he’s never hit me. My ears are ringing so loud and my leg begins to jerk. The cries have gotten quiet and the ringing in my ears has gotten even louder.
Where’s papa? Did he not hear all of this going on? My tears come down even harder than before. Why was it so hard for him to see me as one of the other kids? I’ve seen him smile at Mama and have fun with Joey and Joyce but it’s like I’m invisible. The beating Joey just gave me was invisible to him. Why wasn’t papa up here?!
Scooping me up from the floor, Mama takes me to the bedroom and softly puts me in my bed.
“Mama, I’m sorry you burned the bacon because of me.” The look in her eyes told me how much she was hurting.
“Don’t you be sorry. You’ve been through a lot only in a morning’s time. Bacon isn’t that good anyway.” She was always so gentle. Oh, and she loved bacon, so I knew she was only saying that to make me feel better. Kissing me on the forehead, she moves my hair out of my face. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
Sitting up in my bed, Joyce comes to sit next to me. Putting her head on my shoulder, she doesn’t say anything. She’s still crying. Walking back in the door, Mama gives me that look when I’ve done something I wasn’t supposed to do.
“I thought I told you not to move. Joey put a whoopin’ on you and you need to lie down in bed for a while.” Placing a bowl of water on the floor and wringing out a washcloth, she wipes my face. I point to the back of my head for her to look at.
“I’ve called Dr. Oar to come over immediately to look at that. Baby, tell me what happened?” said mama.
Before I could answer her question, Joey’s screams begin to echo throughout the house. Staring me in the eyes, mama doesn’t move.
“Why is Joey downstairs screaming?”
“Don’t worry about it. Now, place your hands in this bowl and tell me what happened,” she said.
The water turns light red and pieces of Joey’s face float from under my nails. Picking up a piece of his skin, I rub it in between my fingers. It’s rubbery and sticky.
Counting how many pieces are in the bowl, there are seven. There won’t ever be a next time he hurts me again. 7 scratches on his face to remind him to never touch me again. I’ll probably rub some dirt in his sores while he sleeps to make sure.
“We can talk about it later but you’re not moving from this bed for the rest of the day” says mama. Her voice sounds so tired but she managed to laugh before talking again.
“I remember the first school dance I went to. Your grandmother and grandfather had a fit, child! Thought about clawing at this one girl just like you had.”
Mama told the best stories from when she was younger. Using a washcloth, she gently washed my hands and pressed it against the back of my head.
Taking a towel to dry me off, I felt as if I would pass out just from her pressing on my head. Placing a bandage over it until the doctor was able to come look at it, she paused and said nothing for a few seconds.
Taking the bowl from me and getting up from her knees, we all lie down in the bed together. With me in the middle, she squeezes me tight and keeps talking.
********************************************************************************
December 17th, 1981
Out of all the high school boys, Lovette wanted none of them. They were immature and just wanted to play around too much. All of them were gross and acted as if they were still in elementary school. But, all of them wanted her and would stop at nothing to have a chance. This was their senior year and the annual “Winter Wonderland” dance was this weekend.
Unsure if she was going to attend the dance, she had yet to choose someone to go with. It’s high school; no one goes to dances alone or they’d risk people thinking they were a loser for the next few weeks. Either she would have a date or she wouldn’t go at all.
“Heyyyyy, Love. How you doin’, sweetheart?” Closing her locker and sucking her teeth, she already knew which annoying person it was. Michael O’Conner. Mike was handsome and had the prettiest smile but he had a horrible reputation when it came to dating. The school year had just started a few months ago and he had already had at least 4 girlfriends. Rubbing his face and pressing his charm, he leaned against the locker and smiled even harder.
“What do you want, Mike?” said Lovette while clearly annoyed. He may have been good looking but Lovette wouldn’t let him know that. He had enough females telling him that daily and the last thing she needed was for him to think she was anything like the other girls.
“Awww, Love. Don’t be like that! I was just coming to see who you were going to the dance with. You know everyone is going. So, I hope you are too.”
Looking up at his 6’3 frame and taking in his scent, she thought about being nicer to him for a change but then shook the thought off quickly.
“Why do you care? I’m sure you already have your date picked out” said Lovette. Mike’s smile quickly turned upside down. She had assumed the same thing he had assumed about her. Being that they both were two of the most popular people in school, both just knew the other had a date already.
“Actually, I don’t. If you haven’t found a date yet, I’d like to take you. I already know what you think of me but it’s just prom. We can go as friends and if you still decide that I’m whatever person you already think I am, I won’t bother you again. Nothing wrong with gaining an extra friend, right?” He had laid it on thick. Even though he was used to getting his way with most females, Lovette still made him nervous and she could hear it in his voice.
Many girls had certain reputations throughout Brightfield-Heights High. There was a sophomore named Sharon who would have sex with any boy who wanted to have sex with her. The craziest part of the rumors about her is that she never denied doing those things. It was as if she wanted everyone to know and think that she was involved in everything people said about her.
Then, there was Brenda. Brenda did everything except actual intercourse. Somehow, she convinced herself that it meant she was still holy because of it and that it wasn’t a sin. Somebody must’ve fallen asleep during that part in Sunday school.
But, Lovette? No one had any type of dirt on her because she hadn’t done anything worth talking about. Most people would consider her stuck up until they got to know her but, that was it. She was different in Mike’s eyes and all he wanted was a chance to show her he wasn’t as bad like people had thought he was.
Mike had a crush on Lovette ever since he first saw her walk into a math class they shared last year. She stumbled in wearing a bright yellow sundress and her curly orange hair sat perfectly on her freckled shoulders. As soon as her books went crashing towards the floor, Mike was the first one out of his seat to help. She thanked him and sat down in her seat without even looking him in the face. Breaking his thoughts from the past, she started laughing.
“So, you’re telling me that Mr. Player himself doesn’t have a date yet? Hmph!” said Lovette while still laughing at the same time. She didn’t have a date and did want to go to prom. Before she could think about it any longer, she spit the words out he had wanted to hear.
“Listen, if I go as your date
, don’t expect for me to do anything with you. We’re going as friends and that’s it. You can pick me up at 6:30. I hope you had already planned on wearing black and call me before you come.”
Quickly writing down her number and address, she shoved a piece of paper into his hands and walked off towards her next class. The one-minute bell had rung and she refused to be late. Feeling as if he had just won the lottery, Mike walked off to class with his chest puffed out.
The next day, all Mike could think about was taking Lovette as his date. He didn’t want to say or do anything stupid to ruin his chances of at least gaining her as a friend. Once she gotten to know him instead of listening to what everyone else had to say, maybe she’d change her mind about him.
As soon as the final bell rang for the daily dismissal, he ran home to get ready. Meanwhile, Lovette had second thoughts about going to the dance but she didn’t have a way to call and cancel. She had given Mike her number but didn’t think to ask for his.
“Lovette, you told the boy you’d go with him. So, don’t go backing out on him now. Plus, do you want to sit here all night bored with me? I wish I could go out and have fun like you. Mom and dad both treat me like a baby” complained Lovette’s younger sister, Iris.
Iris was Lovette’s best friend and the smartest 12 year old in the neighborhood. Sometimes she would help older kids do their homework and in return, they paid her. Iris would save all of her money and hardly ever spent a dime.
“Iris, you’ll be going to dances before you know it. I guess I won’t be a bummer and get dressed.” Swirling towards the mirror, Lovette held up a black gown with silver straps. Holding it up to her as if she were skeptical about the choice, she asks what her sister thought about the dress. Giving her a thumbs up, Iris ran out of the room.
“The silver heels will go perfect,” whispered Lovette.
Repression Page 2