I didn’t return, because of my current illness. I’m not lonely nor do I seek sympathy. I would be highly disappointed if that was the case. Sympathy down here means offering up prayers to a disdainful jealous God. A crowd of simpletons would lay hands and pray. They’ll anoint me with oil till the Lord moves the chosen to handle snakes. Like the Bible says:
And these signs shall follow them that believe: In my name shall they cast out devils; they shall speak with new tongues. They shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover. (Mark 16:17–18)
The prayers weren’t the problem it was the laying of hands and where they were laid. (Oh, and the fucking snakes.)
Hallelujah.
Amen.
“Woman”, “lady”, “girl”, “female” all have many connotations in the South. The meanings of these words are transformed by who’s laying on you at the time. I had Eve’s curse at 10 years old. It was never a good thing to stand out where I’m from. It was bad enough I wasn’t born a boy and I couldn’t play basketball.
I was called a “young lady” from age eleven to sixteen. I looked like a woman to most men. I was often told this by men and women, but I was only a little girl. At fourteen years old I stood too tall at five foot ten, though I often slouched.
“It wasn’t a decent height for a female.” Mama would say.
Forgetting your past is like an active drug addiction. There’s always a trigger or tipping point that makes a memory resurface. You have to distract yourself all the time to keep the bad thoughts at bay. I stayed away from this place and my remaining family for so long, forgetting their trespasses against me became second nature. Finally, my craving to have some familial contact waned.
Men have told me before they cum they think of baseball or something mundane to keep from ejaculating too soon. This post-coitus revelation was inspirational. If something reminded me of an unpleasantness, my mind would steer towards unrelated topics. What distracted me were facts about butterflies and caterpillars. I liked how caterpillars would eat their way into a chrysalis and live apart but within nature. When they leave their home they metamorphose into a beautiful creature. They have a destiny, instinct, and purpose to guide them. It doesn’t matter how short their lives are. Humanity, on the other hand, wrought destruction and is apathetic to all life.
Like I said, I didn’t come back down here for a reunion.
It was August 25th, about four weeks ago. I was looking at the calendar on my iPhone and talking to my brother Bobby to see how much longer I had left in rehab. I didn’t want to leave. I returned to Arkansas after my brother called me. I’ve always been his savior. Until the day I could not save him from himself.
“Just visit, Sis. See your nieces and nephews. Talk to Davey. We kin. We fam. Get your butt back down hur!” Bobby said. Bobby held on to an amalgamation of southern accents from our army brat days. His phrasing drifted from Cajun to Ozark dialects at times. For my benefit, he dumbed it down to something discernible. He belly laughs like a drunk Santa. Hiccups and haha’s erupt from the Bluetooth earbuds in my ears.
The moment I hear him laugh, I regret giving him my private number. It’s my fault I called him about our mother’s passing earlier this year. I didn’t tell him I didn’t claim the body when the St. Petersburg police initially contacted me. When I requested her Florida death certificate it didn’t have a cause of death. I found out from the coroner’s office she was claimed by unknown persons authorized by the County Sheriff’s Department where my eldest brother, Bobby lives. He had no idea who took Mama’s body from the morgue. He called everyone who hasn’t died of cancer and diabetes and heart disease and drugs and alcohol.
“There aren’t many of us left,” Bobby said relieved.
“Do you think Dewy or… uncle took her?” I asked.
“If it was Dewy we would never know. They still married. He’ll probably have a bonfire in his junkyard and burn the witch. He blames her for ruining his life and killing Cass.”
“I don’t think that’s legal,” I said.
Bobby scoffs and he sounds bitter. “You pay the right person things get dun. No won says nuthang hur. Munkey say. Munkey does.”
See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil, I thought.
“Little sister!!! Tell me you coming back!” Bobby seesaws back to a jovial mood. His shouting makes me smile but I’m actually uncomfortable talking for more than a few minutes. After all these years I still dislike him.
“Shit Bobby this isn’t the reception I expected after what happened between us… Mama…. Uncle…”
“I’m sorry… I am but we’ve always been thick as thieves… You know how that woman was… She got in my head! Seriously, after all that went down, I tried to find you but I hit hard times. Been stuck right here hoping you come home to bury a hatchet in that bitch so we could piss on her grave like we promised! She ruined our lives! Actively fucked us up… Her and that fucker-fucker!” All the elation in his voice is gone. He can’t be on the phone long.
“It’s an Obama phone,” he said. He doesn’t have many minutes. He gives me his address and the information to add more minutes for him so he can speak to me longer. I add minutes to his account online. He calls back two hours later after the phone reboots with the new balance.
Hard raspy choking makes static on my end. He was crying for Mama. The very thing I could not do for her. I hated her too much. He was crying for both of us. She was our mother after all.
“I’ll pay you back.” He said.
“No just keep being kind. I’m happy you want to see me again.” I lied. “Catch me up, Bobby… How can I get in contact with Dave?”
“No Jenny. I’m talking to you as your big bro here. He’s long gone. He hasn’t returned any of my letters in a year. He’s underneath the big boys. I heard rumors… that they turned him out. Davey ain’t no punk. He’s a peckerwood.”
“Tell me what he needs. I’ll do it.”
“This means you coming back? He may get parole this year. You gotta visit him maybe he’ll turn around find Jesus. Open his heart to the savior like I did.”
“I’m his sister, not the Virgin Mary.”
“You were to him.”
“You just said he’s ‘long gone.’”
“I haven’t seen nor heard hide nor tail of ya. You making strides and you sound mighty powerful with the spirit! Lawd! You changed my life for the better in two hours.”
“You sound country as hell.” I giggled.
“Sorry, madame would it please you if I take this tone when conversating with you,” Bobby said with a lovely bastardized British accent. “Seriously, thank you. I can call my lil uns and tell their mama I’ll be late for visitation so she doesn’t up and leaves. I can stay on the phone longer when they interview me on the phone or call me for a job. I lost most of the minutes checking voicemails.”
“How many kids do you have?” I said to stop his monologue.
“Damn that’s right. You never met them. I got three girls and one boy. Don’t worry I wear condoms now. Hahaha!”
“Names? Big Papa.”
“Oh yeah, I had twins…the girls they my oldest. Jenny and Jess Belle. Jenny is a real nerd like you were. She was in the hospital doing that thing you do with your hand like you solving problems on an invisible keyboard. I know she’ll kill the piano like you did. My son… Whoooo! The boy’s got problems. They say he’s artistic. He’s mother blames the vaccines. I think it was all her drinking and hoe-ing. Man, I had to sneak the kids to get shots so they could attend that music magnet.”
“You still play?” I said indifferently. I wouldn’t let him reel me in with his children. For all, I knew his daughter Jenny was really called something else.
“Not the piano no more. Reminds me of Curtis.” His voice cracks when he says that name. “I learned to play the guitar and bass.”
“What do you do for money?”
“Going to vocational school to be a plumber. It’s expensive. Been tending bar, playing gigs and roadie when I can. I operate a cherry picker too. Got my license. I can’t get a normal job with this ink. I’m barely making money to cover the child support and feed myself. Their mama won’t work and she barely lets me see them after I got them vaccinated. I take them to school every morning if I’m not on the road. She’s not a morning person. Shit, I should’ve chopped my dick off before I stuck it in her.”
Should’ve chopped it off three times I guess. (Or twice?)
“You married her?” I asked. I hoped some savage woman was beating him over the head with a giant club daily.
“Fuck no! You married?”
“No,” I said.
I didn’t want Bobby to know anything about my life.
