Kicked Out of the Nest

He made my nose bleed this time. At least I still have some feeling in my cheeks. Last time Henry hit me so hard that he left a purple handprint bruise across my cheek. I remember that day. Mama saw the puffy purple-hued mark and took some ice out of the freezer. “You’ve gots to stop doin’ whatever it is that’s pissin’ him off baby,” she said as she pressed the pack to my cheek. But, I didn’t do anything to him. My only sin is that my biological father isn’t him.

 Mama doesn’t tell me much about my father; only that his last name is James. He left mama late spring in ’51 when she was three months pregnant with me. She met and fell in love with Henry Mallory in her seventh month and I was born soon after. I guess Henry was nice enough when I was smaller; I haven’t much memory of those days. Mama tells me all the time that I should be grateful that he came into our lives, otherwise we’d still be at granny’s house. Ugh. I shiver every time I think of granny. All I really want to do is tell him to go to hell ‘cause he ain’t none of my daddy, my fear of granny keeps my mouth closed; not because she would not of disapprove of such a comment, after all, she didn’t like Henry either, but because I didn’t want to go to granny’s house either. She was scary, her house was scary, and it creaked at night when the wind blew and smelled like rotting wood.

Nope. I could bite my tongue for now. He was leaving town anyway.

Henry was looking at me disapprovingly, as if daring me to say something else. F**k him. I shot him the finger and ran up the porch steps. He was right on my heels. I bolted through the screen door and stopped at the table where mama was sitting having a cigarette. The dirt in my hair was starting to get in my eyes and the blood from my nose had trickled down onto my dress leaving the white soft cotton crimson. Mama didn’t say a word. She looked me over and took another long draw on her Pall Mall. Her eyes were still rolling over me when Henry shot through the door, out of breath. Mama wasted no time.

“What the f**k you hit her in her face for?” She screamed at him. I stood next to her and gave Henry the look I knew he hated. The look that said mama was still my mama, and shew would protect me. I always felt safer near her. “Myrt, you’d better tell that little wench that when I tell her to do something, she’d better do it! Told her to load the car and the little b***h just laid there in the dirt kicking and screaming and throwing dirt,” Henry said pointing a ring adorned finger at me. “I don’t give a good goddamn Henry! I done told you about putting your hand on her. She ain’t no damn boy muthafucka!” Mama was in fine form today. Frustrated, Henry threw up his hands and went to the bedroom where he and mama slept. He brought out with him a large brown leather suitcase. “Too much estrogen in this damn house,” he huffed. “If you need me, I’ll be loading the damn car.” With that, he went out the door and slammed it in his wake.

“Mama why do y’all have to go? I don’t want you to go, and I really really don’t wanna go to granny’s house,” I cried. “Why can’t you just tell Henry to go and you stay here with me? I’ll be a good girl, I promise!” “Now you hush all that foolishness gul!” Mama scolded. “That man ain’t done nothing to you ‘cept put a roof over your head, food in your belly, and clothes on your back. If it wasn’t for him, you would have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of. He hit you because he love you.” She walked over to the sink and started to soak a towel with warm water.

Mama finished wiping my face clean and said not a word as she turned down the hall to throw the bloody towel in the dirty laundry bin which was located in our bathroom. I pulled one of the wooden table chairs from the table and pushed it to the counter by the sink. It was another hot humid day and the fan was making me even more sticky. I turned on the cold tap, grabbed my special cup that mama told me was just for me, and held in under the cool stream of water. I stepped down off of the chair careful not to spill on the floor. Mama was coming down the hallway with a pen and writing tablet when I turned around. She came into the kitchen, pulled a chair from the table and slammed the writing tablet on the table. Blowing out a breath she sank down into the chair and took another cigarette out of the box of Pall Malls, put it in her mouth and lit it. She inhaled and put her face in her hands. “I done told you about mouthin’ off to Henry. That is a grown…man. He’s being gracious by takin us outta this swamp. Don’t you want to move to a nice city? I for one am tired of livin’ in this place, and I’ll be goddamned if I let you f**k it up for me Tiny!” She opened the tablet and began writing furiously. Tiny. An endearment because of me always being small for my age, only it didn’t sound like an endearment at that moment. When she said my nickname that time, she spat it out like the taste was nasty in her mouth. “I’m sorry mama.” That was really all I could say to her. I told her several times that I would try better to get along with him, but the times we were cordial he would ruin everything. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

I’d seen Henry and mama on many occasions get stupid drunk together. Sometimes they would argue and mama would just go to bed. On those nights Henry would try to talk to me. He would tell me I was as pretty as mama, maybe even prettier because I was younger. He would tell me things about boys and how one day I would make every boy stop dead in his tracks. These talks would scare me. I was scared of him, scared of my mixed feelings. No one had ever paid special attention to me before. In the old south, children were to be seen and not heard. When Henry started to pay attention to me, I thought he was being nice. The first time he ever touched me, he told mama he was taking me to the park. I was super excited because the only time I really ever left the house was to go to church. Mama packed our lunch that day, and we set off in his blue Studebaker. I was looking out the window when I realized we were going the wrong way. I thought we were going to the park,” I asked him. He looked at me and smiled. That’s when I began to get scared. We pulled up to his brother Charlie’s house. I knew it was Charlie’s house because I had been there with mama for Sunday dinner on occasion. We got out of the car and walked to the porch where Charlie greeted us. “Thought you’d like to meet my new future step-daughter. I know you can’t resist a pretty one,” Henry sneered. I was already scared of Charlie. He only had 4 teeth in his mouth! “Sure thang Henry. Bring her on up here so I can get a better look at her,” said Charlie. His eyes were yellow from drinking and alight with mischief. Then Henry did something strange. Something he'd never before then. He picked me up and started kneading my bottom. Mama told me never to let anyone touch my privates so I know what he was doing was wrong. “Stop it!” I yelled and started crying in big sobs. I guess I ruined that outing because he took me some straight away. I never told mama, but I never went on a car ride with Henry alone again. The sound of tearing paper pulled me from my subconscienceness.

“Come ‘ere gul,” mama called. She’d torn the note she was writing out of the tablet and take a sewing pin out of the cushion. Careful not to stick me she stuck the not to my blood-soaked dress. “Now I want you to straight ‘way to your granny’s, hear?”

“MAMA, I DIDN’T DO NOTHIN!” I cried. It wasn’t fair.

“Did you hear what the f**k I just said, Tiny?” mama said warningly as she started to rise from the table. I was angry. I felt like Henry was tearing mama and I apart. At this realization I got angry. My anger gave me strength. “Fine mama, I’ll go, but you’ll be sorry. I’m not your baby no more!” With that I ran out the screen door, before she could get up and slap me, down that dirt road as fast as my legs could carry me. I didn’t stop until I reached granny’s doorstep.