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Authors: Amanda King

Hidden Scars (24 page)

BOOK: Hidden Scars
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“And another thing, I’ve had enough of this crying. Stop it!”

“Leave her alone!” I blurted, scooting past Mom.

Gram fell against my chest weeping as I placed an arm around her shoulder.

Mom glared at me, then pointed at the door. “You get yourself out of this house, now!”

“Not until I find out what’s going on.”

“You’ll leave, or I’ll call your father.”

A familiar twinge ran through me. I swallowed hard, but held myself up straight and stared her down. “Call him. Because I’m not leaving.”

She drew her hand back. “Why you—”

I moved away from Gram. “Go ahead! Maybe then your mother will see this has nothing to do with her…it’s you. Why couldn’t I see it before now? All the years I spent trying to make you love me, to make you proud of me, but that wasn’t possible, because it never was about me. Was it?”

Mom stood there, her hand frozen in midair, her face flushed.

“Why won’t you answer me?”

Her hand lowered. Her chest rose and fell at fast intervals as if she were short of breath. “We’ll see how much you run that mouth of yours once your father gets here.” She whirled on her heel and stomped out of the room.

Gently pulling Gram’s hands from her face, I crouched and peered straight into her eyes. “We’ve got to get you out of here.”

She didn’t budge.

Crossing the width of the room, I opened the closet, grabbed her suitcase from the top shelf, and laid it on the foot of the bed. After unlatching the lid, I snatched her clothes off the hangers and tossed them inside. At the dresser, I gathered an armload of undergarments and threw them in. “Is this all of your medicine?” I gestured to the array of different drugs. But again, she didn’t respond. I reached back inside the closet, dumped a pair of shoes from their box, and swept the bottles inside.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Mom’s voice startled me. I spun sideways in time to see her hurl Gram’s luggage to the floor.

“Mother’s not going anywhere.”

Dad could arrive any minute. Panic threatened to overrule my judgment. Physically I’d be no match. I slid the shoebox under my arm and thrust my hand through the straps of Gram’s purse. I gently tugged her forward and up. “Come on. We’re leaving. We’ll get your things another time.”

Without a word, she stood and allowed me to lead her out of the room. We made it halfway down the hall before Mom jerked Gram out of my grasp. “I said you’re not taking her! If you try to take her out of this house, I’ll call the police!”

As though my hearing diminished, I could no longer make out the words of her rant. I wrapped my arm around Gram and focused on getting her out the door and inside the car. Once Gram lowered herself in the passenger seat, I locked her door and ran to the other side, got in, and started the engine.

“Open this door!” Mom beat on the passenger window until I backed the car out the driveway.

Minutes later, Dad passed me, speeding toward the house. Would the police soon follow? In less than forty minutes, we reached Danville where I took Interstate 55 south. It would take an hour to make it to Gram’s—the house I’d always loved as a child. Would the highway patrol be looking for us? What would happen if Gram couldn’t convince them she was mentally capable of making her own decisions? She’d not said a word since we left Greer.
God, I don’t know what to do
.

“Gram, I’m going to take the next exit and find a phone.”

“I’m glad Henry didn’t live to see how Dot treated me.” Gram began crying again. “Your grandfather thought the world of her.”

I read the road sign ahead—Enid 10 miles—and remembered the little store, close to the cabin where Chuck and I’d spent our honeymoon. They’d have a payphone. Memories of our special weekend, now so long ago, mingled with my ever-present fears over our broken communications.
Where are you, Chuck?

Gravel crunched beneath the tires as I stopped feet from the bait shop’s front entrance. There were no payphones outside.

“Gram, I’ll be right back. I’m going to lock the car. Don’t open the door for anyone.”

I ran inside, scanned the walls, and spotted a black phone hanging behind the man at the counter. “Please, I need to make a collect call. I’ll pay you.”

He nodded, without saying a word.

My insides shook like Jell-O. So did my hands. I could scarcely dial zero.

Marsha answered on the third ring and accepted the charges. “Morgan, what’s wrong?”

Hearing my sister’s voice released a new flood of tears. “It’s Gram. I couldn’t leave her—”

“Leave her where? What are you talking about?”

I turned my back to the man, cupped the mouthpiece, and briefly explained the morning’s events. “I’d first planned on taking her to her house, but Mom threatened to call the police. For all I know, they might not let her stay in her own home. I don’t know what to do or where to take her.”

“Where are you now?”

“Close to Enid Lake.”

“First of all, don’t get back on the interstate. Find 82 and stay on it all the way to Memphis. You’re going to take her to Uncle Frank’s. He’s always wanted her, but Mom wouldn’t allow it. When we hang up, I’ll call and tell him everything.”

“I’m not sure how to get to his house.”

“You know where the Southaven Mall is, right before you get to Memphis?”

“Yes.”

“He’ll meet you at the main entrance.”

“How do you know? What if you can’t get in touch with him?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll find him. If not, Aunt Sally will meet you. Everything’s going to be fine. You did the right thing. Gram can’t stay with our parents. They broke us, but at least we had hope that someday we’d get out. They’ll destroy her if she stays with them. If they haven’t already. After I get in touch with Uncle Frank, I’ll head that way. We’ll talk more tonight.”

“Marsha—” My voice cracked. I swallowed hard. “I haven’t heard from Chuck in over three weeks. What do you think that means?”

Always the big sister—reassuring, calm, never at a loss for words—Marsha didn’t respond. With each second of silence, my heart rate raced out of control. “I’ve got to go. See you tonight.”

I hung up the phone.
Can You see me, God? Can You hear me
?

Without making eye contact, I held out a dollar bill and some change, but the storeowner pushed my hand away and wished me luck.

I got back in the car and cradled Gram’s arthritic hands in mine. She looked at me for the first time since we left Mom’s. Her pale blue irises, surrounded by streaks of red and pools of tears reminded me of a frightened animal—they reminded me of my own reflections in years past.

“It’s going to be all right, Gram. We’re going to be fine.”

Chapter 30

From the moment Gram laid eyes on Uncle Frank, it was as if she became the child and he the nurturing parent. Her sobs turned into wails when he lifted her from my car and cradled her in his arms. She clung to his hand, even after Aunt Sally and I got her in bed. He didn’t ask any questions, only smiled and assured her he’d stay until she fell asleep.

Marsha had made the right decision. Gram was safe and where she belonged.

Later that afternoon, Marsha, with baby Rachael, and I sat at the kitchen table with our uncle. The evening sun poured through the bay window. Its warmth did little to chase away the chill as we expressed our suspicions regarding Gram’s mistreatment and shared details about the cruelty of our childhood.

Aunt Sally set the tray next to the kitchen sink. “She drank part of her milk, but I couldn’t get her to eat a bite.”

Who could blame her? The thought of food turned my own stomach.

Uncle Frank’s chair scraped against the floor as he pushed himself from the table. “Give it here. Let me see what I can do.”

“No.” Aunt Sally placed her hand on his. “You’ll only upset her. You’re too angry right now, and it shows.”

“I’m not angry at her. It’s that…that…”

“Misguided sister of yours,” she finished his statement.

“Not exactly the words I had in mind.” He glanced at Marsha and me. “And I’m telling all of you right now, this isn’t over. Dot won’t get by with this, and she wouldn’t have gotten by with mistreating you children had I known what was going on in that house. I wish you two would have come to me, told me before today.”

“It wouldn’t have done any good.” Marsha pulled the partially empty bottle from baby Rachael’s mouth and placed her over her right shoulder. “We told plenty of people.” She glanced at me. “At least I did. Schoolteachers, the preacher, other adults in the town. Morgan even went to see a lawyer. None of them did a thing. I guess because what the lawyer told Morgan was true: The law wasn’t on our side.”

He frowned. “Well, he was either a moron or he thought you were talking about a mere spanking.”

“No, sir,” I spoke up. “When he said he needed proof, I let him know I was wearing the proof and what it looked like. That’s when he tried to explain the law and told me if I pursued his help, and
if
things were truly as bad as I said, it would only make matters worse for me. He. Knew.”

Uncle Frank’s face paled. “Then he
was
an idiot. There are agencies in this country designed to protect children. And Memphis has some fine lawyers who would have made sure your
parents
understood the law. And as for Chuck, first thing in the morning we’ll contact the local Red Cross, even though I’m sure he’s fine. In fact, you’ll probably find a letter in the mail tomorrow when we go back after yours and Mamma’s things. I don’t want you staying in Greer, especially now. You’re better off here with us.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not!” Little Rachael jumped at Marsha’s sharp words.

“Because I have a job for one thing—unless he decides to fire me for not showing up today.”

“You called him. Besides, let him fire you,” Marsha ranted. “If that’s the only thing keeping you there, then I hope he does.”

“She’s right, Morgan.” Aunt Sally used a much calmer approach. “You don’t need to be there by yourself.”

They didn’t understand. They didn’t have Chuck’s word’s, “If something happens to me, I want you to start a new life, someplace besides Greer”, playing over and over in their mind. For me, leaving would be like admitting he was not coming back.

“When Chuck comes home, he’ll expect to find me in Greer.”

Marsha’s scowl deepened. “Don’t be a fool, Morgan. He’d be the first one to tell you to get out of there after what’s happened with Gram.”

“What Mom and Dad say and do aren’t nearly as important as finding Chuck. Besides, his parents don’t have a clue that I haven’t heard from him in weeks. When I explain everything that’s happened, his father won’t let anything happen to me.”

Marsha’s eyebrows shot up. Her lips pinched tight.

“He won’t,” I stated with conviction.

“Will you at least think about it? And when—not if—Mom and Dad start in on you, will you promise me you’ll leave?”

“If it gets that bad, yes.”

#

Aunt Sally gave Marsha and me one of the downstairs bedrooms across the hall from Gram’s. Rachael Lee slept soundly between us as we talked, neither of us able to give in to sleep.

“Do you suppose Uncle Frank’s right about the Red Cross helping me find Chuck?”

“He ought to know. He was in the Navy during WWII. I’m sure he saw firsthand what they’re capable of, but I also think he’s right about Chuck being fine. You worry too much.”

“What do you think he’ll say to Mom when he sees her tomorrow?”

“I don’t know.” Marsha sat up and placed her pillow between her back and the headboard. “It won’t be pretty. I can guarantee that. I’d give anything to hear it though. It’ll be the first time anyone’s stood up to her and called her what she is…an abuser.”

“What do you think Dad will do?”

“To Uncle Frank?” She huffed. “Nothing if he’s smart.”

“Do you suppose—”

“Shhhh.” Marsha hushed me and then lunged out of bed.

“What is it?”

“Gram.” Marsha headed for the door. “Sounds like she’s crying. Stay with Rachael.”

“I’m coming, too.”

“No,” she ordered. “Stay with the baby.”

I turned on the closet light and grabbed pillows to brace Rachael, so I could stand in the doorway and listen. When I heard Marsha say, “Let me get Morgan”, I went to the closet and pulled blankets from the shelf and began making a pallet, then gently laid Rachael on the floor.

As we helped her to the bathroom and out of her soiled clothes, tears ran along ruts time etched into Gram’s face. “I hate you girls have to see me in such a mess.”

“You did the same for us plenty of times,” Marsha assured her.

“Dot’ll have a fit about the bed.”

“You’re not in Greer,” I reminded her. “You’re at Uncle Frank’s and Aunt Sally’s, remember?”

She sat on the toilet and stared off in space. “Henry spoiled Dot. Gave her everything she ever wanted, right up until the day he died. I’m glad he didn’t see…”

Gram didn’t finish her thought. She didn’t have to. She said it earlier in the car.

#

“Morgan.” A warm hand pressed against my right shoulder.

I sat straight up, and like Gram, for a moment lost my bearings.

Aunt Sally stood over me. “Was the baby fussy last night?”

“I don’t guess so.” I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

“Then why are you out here on the couch?”

“Oh, that.” I tried to focus on the mantle clock. “Good thing you left us a choice of gowns and pajamas. Gram had an accident, so we put her in bed with Marsha and Rachael. Her sheets and gown are in the washing machine.”

“We need to get a move on, Morgan.” Uncle Frank stood in the doorway. Steam rose from the white mug he held. “We’ve got a full day ahead of us.”

“You just settle yourself down, Frank Collins. It’ll be another two hours before the Red Cross opens. Besides, before you make a trip to Greer, you need to talk to your mamma and see what she wants to do.”

“There’s
no way
she’s going back to Dot’s.
Nobody’s
going to mistreat my mamma. I’ve put up with a lot from my sister through the years. Jay and I used to get our butts beat on a regular basis. All she’d have to do was tell Daddy some sad tale—the truth or a downright lie—throw in a few tears for good measure, and he’d take a belt to us. My old man thought she could do no wrong. Well, this time it’s my mamma, and I won’t keep my mouth shut any longer.”

BOOK: Hidden Scars
3.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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