Chapter Eight

 

          Chapter Eight

Times were happy with Eph, Lottie and Grover, yet there was one thing missing which kept my life from being perfect. I missed Sissy more and more every day. I didn’t know where she was living. It had been years; or so it seemed, since I had last seen her.

Then, God must have heard my prayers for I heard she was staying with some people in War Eagle, Arkansas. I also had heard she was working for room-and-board.

Lottie was making Christmas candy when I cautiously asked her for permission to visit with Sissy. I was overjoyed when she answered – yes.  

With a bag of Lottie’s Christmas goodies in hand, Eph took me by wagon to War Eagle. For two days I listened with mixed feelings as Sissy talked. I was so happy to see her, to hold her hand, yet saddened to hear of the painful existence she was enduring. She related to me how the people she lived with, the England’s, were so mean to her.

Sissy had to do all the work; cooking, taking care of the kids, washing clothes on a wash-board. When she washed the clothes she had to stand outside on the back porch. It was so cold her hands nearly froze. She told me of a time when as she hung clothes to dry, they froze before she got them on the line.

If Mrs. England decided something wasn’t hung up as neatly as it should be, she made Sissy take them all down and re-hang them. 'Such an ole witch', I thought. I wondered if she was related in any way to Gooby.

Sissy told me re-hanging clothes was a minor problem compared to the trials she went through with Mr. England. He had a hunger for her which kept her fighting him off constantly.

“Kill him, I will, before he lays a dirty hand on me,” Sissy said, her voice low and harsh. I began to cry. She put her arm around me holding me close as she gently wiped away my tears. I thought of the many times along the trail when she rubbed my frozen feet until warmth returned. I loved her more than anyone or anything in all the world.

Not too terribly long after Christmas the England's moved to another place and took Sissy along with them. She endured all she could from them before running away in the middle of the night.

She was taken in by the Phillips family. Sissy was just barely fourteen, not even a woman, yet experienced well beyond her years.

The Phillips had a boy older than Sissy by ten to twenty years named Glen who became my brother-in-law. He was a mean, selfish man who beat Sissy if she refused to have sex with him. 

One night after getting himself all liquored up, he approached Sissy. She began to cry and beg him to leave her alone. Being a typical illiterate farmer; more brawn than sense, he refused to back away from her. He grabbed Sissy by the hair and flung her onto the bed before falling atop her. Sissy began to scream. Glen raised his hand to strike her but was stopped by a big granite dish pan against his head.

“I don’t ever want to see you touch that child again, or the next time, it will be worse!” His mother stood over him, the large pot on her hand. She was poised to strike again. Glen took her at her word and left. Sissy never heard or saw him again.  Sissy made her home for a spell with Mrs. Phillips and for the first time in a long time experienced peace and someone who cared for her.

                                      

                                     *

It was so quiet and peaceful with Eph and Lottie. There were no cars or noise of a city. Sometimes, especially in the winter you could hear the freight train whistle as it passed through Rogers, or hear a plane go over. Mostly, the noise was welcome night sounds as the birds and animals tuned up for midnight serenades.

The Whipper-wills would sit on the soft ground in the road that came down the long hill to our house. Oh, how I loved to hear their ‘whip,whip-whippoorwill’ call. Then, the owls would tune up.

The Screech owls would let out eerie screeches, sending shivers up and down my spine. The deep ‘who, who, whoahh’s’ of the Great Horned owl would resound from a big white Oak.

The fields came alive with red and grey Fox. They would come up close to the fence at the back of the house and ‘yap-yap-yap’ till Grover’s dog chased them away.

There was an old dead hollow tree behind the yard and a family of flying squirrels lived in it. It really amazed us how they seemed to fly. Actually, they didn’t … they would glide through the air.

One winter day, we decided we were going ‘possum hunting’ that night. By the time it got dark we were ready. With our lantern and Big Dog, we were on our way.

The moon was so bright we didn’t really need the lantern. Eph’s land was 40 acres of cleared land, the rest of the area deep woods and hollows. Once you reached the darkness of the woods, it was terribly spooky.

In the center of the clearing stood a big dead Oak tree. We got as far as the old tree and sat down just as close as we possibly could. We sat there about thirty minutes and becoming scared from the night sounds debated whether to call off, or continue our hunting trip.

Then we heard the most blood curdling ‘who,who,who, whowhoaaah!' coming from the top of the tree we were sitting under. The Great Horned owl had done it again … scared me half to death. We tore out of there a fast as we could, not stopping until breathless we finally reached our front yard. The possums’ were safe and sound that night, thanks to the Great watch dog!

Grover and I didn’t have toys like most other kids our age, but we had Big Dog, goats, and baby goats, or ‘kids’ as they were called. We’d carry them around just like a puppy or kitten until the mama goat let us know we had played with her children long enough. Then she would come, call to them and stand patiently until they joined her.

Sometimes watching the goats was one of our chores. We were to keep them from Lottie’s vegetable garden. One day we got to playing and neglected to watch the goats. The first chance they got, over the fence they went. When Eph came home we really got it. We couldn’t sit down for quite a spell.

Other fun things we did was pull black snakes out of hollow logs. One day we were alone and being kids, with time on our hands decided to entertain ourselves. We knew where this old log was that had a big black snake in it. Sometimes before snakes shed their skins they will get into a quiet space.

We reached into that log and grabbed onto the snakes’ tail. We pulled and pulled. When we finally got him out of the log, we saw he was almost six feet long.

We played with him until we grew tired; then being honrey kids like any other kid I suppose, we smashed in his head. I don’t recall who came up with our next move, but both of us thought it was a brilliant ides.

We carried him to our front yard and carefully placed him just inside the gate. We knew when Lottie came through the gate she would step on him. Sure enough, she came, stepped on him, screamed and then jumped about three feet in the air. She also set our butts on fire with a green switch.

                                  

                                  *

Sunday was a day of rest. We walked to church which was held in the same building as our school. Sometimes after service we would have a ‘dinner’ on the ground’. Ladies would spread table cloths or sheets on the grass before spreading their offerings ... row after row of home-made food.

Pecan pies, fresh peach pies, snow-white cake with burnt sugar frosting, platters of fried chicken, and home-made bread … nothing was bought from a store. Someone would bring a hickory-smoked baked ham ... fresh corn on the cob, crisp garden vegetables and spring grown water-cress. Everything was so good. It made the four mile walk all the more worth-while.

At peace within ourselves, a full tummy and friends; a truly pleasant way to begin the new week.