Her eyes glassed over. “People are bad, Momma. You just don’t wanna believe it.”
“I know people are bad. You’re the one who don’t wanna believe it. And as far as your daddy’s car goes, the truth will surface soon. Frank Strickland’s sins will catch up to him. You’ll see, shug. It’ll all come out in the wash. But you go on to work now. I’ll gather everything up when I’m done cooking and take it to your house. Jackson’ll be fine at Bobby’s till then.”
“Okay. I appreciate it.” She got up and hugged me. “Help yourself to some pound cake.”
“You know I will.” I chuckled and turned up the TV as she headed out.
“Bye, Momma!” Smack! I heard the screen door slam just as Reva kissed Josh.
“Now don’t that just beat all. I’ve done missed the best part of my story.”
Regina was aggravating, but she was our only child. Naturally, when it came to boys, we had high standards. Jack and I never cared for Frank, but Regina was smitten. Soon after she started running around with him, he was arrested for breaking into vehicles. He was on probation for a little while but was arrested again when he got caught stealing a car. As soon as he got out of jail, he talked Regina into quitting school, and they went to the courthouse and got married. I knew it was coming—I’d had a vision. She was just a baby, only seventeen, and him, twenty-four, with no job, no money, and nothing to offer her but a life of crime and poverty. My heart broke all to pieces. And Jack wanted to kill him. Frank was more than just a bad apple, he was rotten to the core.
After they married, they ran off together. We didn’t know where they’d gone. No phone calls, no letters, nothing. About eight months later, Regina came home. She looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks and was nothing but skin and bones. She said she was waiting tables in Shreveport and staying in a motel with Frank, but he was drinking all the time and couldn’t find work. One morning, she woke to find he’d up and left. All she had was a few clothes and the little bit of tip money she’d put in her pocket from the night before, so she bought a bus ticket and came home.
For three months she didn’t hear from Frank. We thought he was finally outta her system, but we were wrong. His worthless behind showed up one night, and she left with him. Two months later, she came back home. Looked like hell again, but this time she had bruises on the side of her face, and all down her arms were perfect finger marks. Jack swore if he ever saw Frank Strickland again, he was a dead man. Regina told us not to worry, promising it was over, claiming she wanted to make a better life for herself. It seemed she was serious because she got her GED, then enrolled in nursing school.
Things were fine for about a year. But it didn’t last. Frank showed up and Regina let that snake slither his way back in. She said she couldn’t help how her heart felt. Jack and I knew he’d start drinking and end up beating on her again, but she wouldn’t listen. She went back to Shreveport with him, rented a two-bedroom house, and took a job with the county health clinic. We felt like any minute the bubble was gonna burst and he’d run off and leave her, and that’s exactly what happened the day he came home and she told him she was pregnant.
Frank didn’t want no baby. He didn’t even want a wife. It wasn’t a surprise to us when he left, but Regina was devastated and cried for days. Seemed like it was a lot worse on her this time, and I couldn’t put my finger on why. She was just…off…and sick as a dog. But she stayed in Shreveport and kept working until the day she went into labor. Jack drove like a bat outta you-know-where to get there, and I wrung my hands and talked to the Lord the whole way.
The instant we saw that precious baby boy, our lives were changed forever. He was perfect, and Regina was fine, still stubborn as a mule. She refused to come back to Florida with us, so we stayed with her a few days. I wanted to help with the baby and anything else she needed. Plus, I couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that Jackson needed us to protect him.
It wasn’t until Jackson was three months old that Frank returned, claiming he’d been working out on the oil rigs the whole time and had no way to reach her. Again, we begged her to make him leave, talked till we were blue in the face, but nothing swayed her decision. Not that we expected it to, it never had before. Despite our pleas, Frank was in and outta the picture just like always. Only difference was, Regina quit crying over him. She started taking pills for her nerves and just stopped caring. Things went on like that for a couple of years.
Jackson was growing like a weed and started pre-school before we could blink. We planned on spending Christmas in Shreveport that year, but at the last minute, Regina said she wanted to come home. We were overjoyed. We got out all our Christmas decorations and hurried like mad getting everything ready. But when she pulled into the driveway, our hearts sank. Frank was right behind her.
All through dinner, you could cut the tension with a knife. Afterward, Frank excused himself to go smoke. Jack took Jackson in the living room, and Regina and I put away the food. We planned to exchange gifts that night, and Jackson couldn’t wait to open his presents. But Frank was still outside smoking, so Jack went to bring him in. To his surprise, he found Frank peeking through the shop window at the Bel Air. Jack said Frank nearly jumped outta his skin when he saw him, then ran over to his car, cranked it up, and left. Didn’t even have the decency to tell anyone bye. Typical Frank. He was a far cry from the father of the year.
We had a long talk with Regina that night after Jackson went to bed. Jack told her about Frank eyeballing the car, but it didn’t seem to bother her. With all them pills she was taking, she was about as sensitive as a marble. But Jack and I were leery. Frank’s behavior was downright suspicious. Later that night when we were getting ready for bed, Jack told me he was gonna put another lock on his shop. And before he lay down, he put his shotgun in the corner by the nightstand. I remember asking him what he thought he was gonna do with it.
He said, “Ruby, I hope I don’t have to do nothing with it. But if need be, I ain’t scared to use it.”
I didn’t sleep a wink that night. I knew something was up, felt it in my bones.
The following year we went to Shreveport for Christmas, and when we got back home, the Bel Air was gone. Locks busted off, shop left wide open, and no car. As you can imagine, Frank was the first person we thought of. Like some idiot, Regina had told him we were coming to see Jackson for the holidays, which gave him the perfect opportunity he’d been waiting for.
There wasn’t a doubt in our minds Frank stole the car, but Regina refused to believe it. Jack called the law, and they opened an investigation, which outraged Regina. She stayed mad at her daddy for the longest time. Wouldn’t even answer the phone when we called. Finally, after Jack left a message we were coming to check on Jackson if she didn’t answer, she started talking to us again. Took a little time, but things got better. Nothing close to what I’d call normal, though. She still held it against us for accusing Frank of stealing the car. Somehow, he’d come up with an alibi, so the case was left open. But we knew the truth, whether the police found proof or not.
Over the next few years, Jack and I visited Jackson every couple of months. We never missed a holiday or a birthday, and when school was out, Regina would let him stay with us. We’d go get him and then take him back home right before school started. We were the ones making all the effort, but we didn’t mind. He was our world, and we wanted to spend time with him whenever we could.
When Jackson finished second grade, we went to get him the very next day. Jack took him fishing every morning after breakfast. Then in the afternoons, they built stuff in the shop. One evening around supper time, we were surprised to hear Regina’s car pull up. What was even more alarming was that Frank was with her. Regina said they were heading to Panama City Beach for a few days and wanted to swing by to see Jackson. Frank didn’t say a word. He just stood with his hands shoved in his front pockets. I immediately felt suspicious. They claimed to be going to the beach, but they sure didn’t look like it. Frank was even wea
ring jeans and a long sleeve shirt.
Jackson was inside playing, so Jack called him out to come see his momma. Then we went back inside to let them visit. I told Jack I felt something terrible was about to happen, but he said everything would be fine, and they’d be on their way shortly. Pretty soon, Jackson came in to get a drink, and Regina followed, but not Frank. Of course, that made us nervous, so Jack headed outside to check on things. Not five minutes later, Frank came running in, hollering for Regina to call an ambulance. I wish every day Jack would’ve stayed inside. Nothing we owned was worth him dying for.
Chapter Four
Rebecca
1980 – 1990 ~ Childhood Tribulations
It was Monday, the eighth day of September, a day of mixed emotions—my first day of third grade. I loved learning, and I was excited about school because I had a new best friend. But I also dreaded starting a new year because sometimes teachers are mean and everything’s always different. Well, almost everything. Different classroom, different books, and a different set of stupid rules. But, unfortunately, I always got stuck with the same crummy classmates.
Ever since kindergarten, butt-ugly Tracy and her smelly sidekick Wendy had been in my class. They were not nice, and I hated them with a passion. They picked on me every day and never got into trouble. Why? Because the sneaky brats always acted like perfect angels in front of the teachers.
I scanned the classroom and didn’t see any signs of the two trolls. Thank God. Maybe they both moved…or jumped off a cliff. Nice thought, but I knew I’d never get that lucky. I took a seat close to the front and waited, hoping my future husband would arrive soon. I put my apple on the desk right beside mine, saving him a seat. I then smoothed down the front of my dress and folded my hands together on my lap, waiting for Jackson.
Hoping to look extra pretty for him on the first day of school, I wore my favorite Sunday dress. It was light pink with short, ruffled sleeves and a big bow tied in the back. To accessorize, a matching pink bow held my ponytail in place, and pink polish shined on my fingernails. I sat for what seemed like forever with my ankles crossed and my hands resting in my lap, staring at the door and waiting for him. I was nervous, but I looked fabulous.
As more students trickled in, I became restless and started fidgeting and chewing my lip. I recognized a few kids from the year before, but none of them were my favorite. Everyone was talking and laughing and sharing stories about their summer vacations, but I sat quietly, waiting for Jackson. At last, he walked in, and my heart did a somersault.
“Finally,” I said to myself. Waving, I called out, “Jackson! Over here!”
“Rebecca!” He waved back and ran toward me, grinning from ear to ear.
I can still remember how cute he looked. His blue and green, short-sleeved button-down shirt was neatly tucked into his nicely pressed khakis. He wore a brown leather belt that matched his Eastlands. And he had gotten a haircut, so his blond hair was a little spikey on top, but still long enough to hold his side part. This was the first time I’d seen Jackson in anything other than cut-offs and a faded old shirt. He was shiny clean and looked much older, at least thirteen. My heart was about to beat out of my chest, and I lapsed into a momentary daydream.
Right about the time Jackson started to sit down, pig-faced Tracy grabbed my apple, plopped her ugly butt down in his seat, turned her back to me, and started talking to him.
“Hi! You’re new. And cute,” she said, tossing my apple in the air. I’m Tracy. What’s your name?”
First of all, when did she show up? Second, who did she think she was? And third, if she drops my apple, I’m gonna slap her right in her face!
Jackson’s smile faded. He quickly gave her the stink eye. “I’m Jackson,” he said. “And this is my seat. She was saving it for me, so you need to move.”
Pigtails put down my apple and turned around to face me. She wrinkled her lip as she looked me up and down, scrutinizing my dress, my shoes, my hair. Then she scrunched her nose as if she’d smelled a rotten egg, and whipped her head back around to Jackson. “Why do you wanna sit next to her?”
My jaw dropped. I felt my face get white-hot with embarrassment. Jackson’s eyebrows creased in disapproval. He didn’t even bother answering. Instead, he motioned for me to follow him. I grabbed my apple, swung my ponytail around, and followed Jackson to the last two empty desks on the other side of the classroom.
Pig-face yelled, “I didn’t want y’all to sit here anyway! This is my desk! No room for losers in the front!” She made another sour face and stuck her tongue out at us.
I silently prayed her face would freeze like that forever, then realized the whole room had fallen quiet. All the kids, parents, and even the teacher had stopped talking to glare at Tracy. While extremely satisfying, I was still embarrassed. She hurt my feelings and made me feel like trash.
Jackson put his hand on my shoulder. “Forget about her, Rebecca. She’s just mean,” he said. “We’ll sit back here where she can’t bother us.”
But he didn’t understand. It thrilled Tracy to torture me, and no matter where we sat, she’d bully me. The level of ugliness she was capable of was mind-blowing, and I was gonna have to put up with it again, all year long. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, Wendy walked in. She spotted Tracy and ran over to sit beside her. They squealed and hugged, then Tracy pointed at me as she whispered in Wendy’s ear. They both looked back and giggled. Great. The terrible twosome together again. How’d I get so lucky?
Talk about luck. For the next few years, all the way through the sixth grade, Tracy and Wendy were in all my classes. It seemed God thought I needed to work on my patience. At least Jackson was in all my classes too. I guess God knew I might snap without him around.
Other than having to deal with Tracy and Wendy’s crap, school was almost fun. But the real fun didn’t start until after the bell rang at two forty-five. Jackson would get off the bus at my house, and we’d do our homework together. Then we’d get a snack and go play with Timmy. We rode our bikes, played freeze-tag and hide-and-seek in the back yard, and sometimes we went fishing in the creek. Timmy was a lot bigger and like most brothers, he enjoyed getting in my hair. Jackson liked to get in my hair too, literally. He sat behind me and played with my ponytail when the teacher wasn’t looking. I enjoyed the attention, even though I knew it was probably breaking some stupid, unnecessary rule. Sure enough, it happened. Seventh grade, Social Studies, Mrs. Smith’s class. Jackson got caught playing with my hair, and we both got in trouble for it.
“Jackson! What do you think you’re doing?” Mrs. Smith shrieked.
Mrs. Smith was a short, stumpy, middle-aged woman with thin, black hair that she kept teased up to hide all her bald spots. She wore polyester pantsuits that smelled like mothballs and thick, wide-rimmed glasses, black as her soul. I swear she was the bride of Satan himself. The gap between her two front teeth was big enough to park a bus in, and her voice was the worst. Sharp, shrill, and whiny. It pained me to listen to her talk. She sounded like someone was killing a chicken.
Jackson dropped my braids in an instant. “Sorry, Mrs. Smith. I was just flicking Rebecca’s hair.”
“I know exactly what you were doing, mister!” She raised her crooked arm––the one she’d broken when she fell off the sidewalk––and pointed her witch finger straight at us. “What do you think this is, some beauty shop? Do you think I’m blind? Do you think that behavior is appropriate at school, young man?” she squawked.
Great God, woman! Bombard him with questions! She always had to go overboard and make a show of everything. We couldn’t stand her.
Jackson cleared his throat. “I… Uh… I guess not.”
I raised my hand and spoke up, hoping to save Jackson from further chastisement. “It’s no big deal, Mrs. Smith. I don’t mind if he plays with my hair. We’re still paying attention.”
“Thank you for your contribution, Rebecca,” she snapped, “but I don’t remember asking for your two cents.
”
What a hateful, wicked old woman. My throat went dry, and my ears felt like fire. I was beyond embarrassed. Why hadn’t she just given us “the look” like most teachers? Why’d she have to be so mean? Probably because she was jealous that nobody ever played with her hair in school.
“I’ll deal with you both after class,” she hissed, then continued to write on the board.
Immediately, the whispering and snickering began. When the bell rang, it turned into roaring laughter, and the terrible twosome, Tracy and Wendy, were the leaders of the pack.
“I don’t mind if he plays with my hair,” Tracy mocked. Her dreadful crybaby voice was worse than fingernails on a chalkboard.
“Eww! Who’d wanna touch her greasy-ass hair anyway?” Wendy chimed in. The two brainless pests snickered as they gathered their things.
My jaw tightened, and my cheeks flamed. God, how I wanted to smash in their faces.
“Yeah!” Tracy giggled. “It’s probably full of head lice!”
They cackled as they strolled out of the classroom. I hated them with a passion and prayed to God they’d both get hit by a bus. The shame of getting reprimanded by the teacher in front of the entire class was bad enough, but I despised being taunted by my peers, especially those two. I didn’t know why they enjoyed tormenting me, but ever since kindergarten, I’d been their dartboard. Maybe it was because I didn’t live in their fancy neighborhood or have name brand clothes or personalized jewelry. Whatever the reason, they hated me, and I hated them right back.
Mrs. Smith had chilled a little by the end of class. She waited until we were the only ones left in the room, then waddled over to our desks. The stench of mothballs was so overwhelming, it made me gag. She raised her crooked arm and pointed at us again. “If I ever, and I do mean ever, have to speak to the two of you again, I’ll be calling your parents so quick it’ll make your heads spin. You can mark my words on that.”
Worth the Risk Page 4