Chapter 14
Trouble With A Capital T
What more trouble can a boy like me get into
as I lay there naked in a hospital bed, but that is nothing compared to the
tongue lashing I got from Ma and my Grandmother. For nearly dying right there
on the floor; Ma, Pa, and Grandma have seen me enough times recently without my
clothes on. But the thought of everyone else that was standing around my bed;
half of them were girls and women, didn’t make me feel any better.
I dared not ask; I was too embarrassed. How many more would see me in all my
glory before I turned old and gray? Maybe I’d be better off streaking down the
hall like Sam and Aaron do from time to time. I knew just by the look on my
sisters Julie and Anna’s faces that it was too late when they said. I had the
cutest little butt they have ever seen, and the rest laughed in agreement. With
a kiss on the cheek, I sighed that’s all needed to know.
Apparently, I’d punctured a lung and it caused me to cough up blood; I nearly
tore out all of the fresh stitches. Grandma said they wondered if I’d have any
skin left to stitch at this rate and if I ever did anything that stupid again.
Ma and Pa would bend me over their knees and she would personally paddle my
behind until it was blue for a month. Somehow, I didn’t doubt her one iota.
Especially having already received many spankings from her when I was younger;
it was nothing compared to what my parents did mind you. I mean, unlike them
she could control her temper. It was also the very thing I knew I had to control
or I would end up just like them.
Pa and Ma promised me ‘come hell or high water.’ A popular saying my
Grandmother would always say and had seemed to have rubbed off on to my Ma and
Pa from time to time, like whenever they meant business. That they will find a
way for me to blow off steam in the right way instead of it blowing in the
wrong direction. When Ma’s angry or upset she would cook up a storm that would
feed an army. Pa would chop firewood and sometimes plow the field by hand and
horse instead of using the tractor when he was angry or upset.
Later on in my life, I found writing and doing plays in school helped. Where I
could transfer my emotions into a character, but it always seemed I spent more
time in the councilors or principals office because of it. Some of my English
teachers became fearful of my dark writing to the point I stopped altogether.
Just to avoid being sent and having to explain my fears and thoughts; which in
turn exposed me to more beatings at home.
I learned early on, it was better to
be silent than rather expose the truth to what was really going on at home or
in my mind. Depending on where and which foster home I lived in. I will most
likely go into more detail later on, but I will say the Downing’s encouraged me
to write and weren’t afraid of me or the secrets that I held.
Soon after they had brought me back from the dead one more time. I met a
strange man by the name of Doctor Whitmore. Doctor Kollie Whitmore. Born and
raised in a small village in Kenya which is located in Eastern Africa near the Indian Ocean. His parents died when he was two, leaving
his grandparents to raise him and sent him to Emory University School of
Medicine to become a doctor in specialized medicine and served in the Vietnam
war where he met Doctor Hatfield and worked by his side for nearly five years.
During that time they traveled the United States training nurses and young doctors for the
Red Cross. He met his young wife Rena at a local dance in a small town of Evansville Kentucky and was married week later. Not once has he ever looked back as he held
a locket of her hair around his neck. He towered over most men reaching the
height 7 feet tall due to his long legs. Having Brown hair blue eyes and strong
jawline. Like his grandfather and had his mother's aristocratic noses. Kollie
loved his life as a doctor and being a father of two boys Frank and Mark who
was the spitting image of him when he was a boy.
What was strange about this man was his bedside manner and the clothes he and
his boys would wear. Doctor Hatfield pullout all the stops by having this one
ace up his sleeve. Since figuring out that the loincloth was causing more
damage by increasing the infection, not to mention it was rubbing my skin raw;
and the fact that I had to wear something other than a sheet if I was ever
going to get out of bed. It happened to be then that I had met Doctor Whitmore
for the first time; he was making his rounds and dressed in a long flowing
dress that barely covered his knee caps. The bright yellows and swirls of
orange, well, they could blind a horse from a mile away. It looked, to me, even
worse without my glasses as they blended together. I had to blink a lot just to
get a clear image of him as he walked into my room.
Ma and Pa gasped; their mouths hanging wide open, wide enough to catch files.
He would merely grin as he strode over picking up the chart at the foot of my
bed. His black beads reflecting off his hairy chest of what we could see of it.
With a long v cut that went halfway down his bare chest. He wore short sleeves
that were hemmed with black lace and along the bottom of the dress. I couldn’t
believe what I was seeing a man wearing a dress; Instead of hospital scrubs and
rubber hospital shoes replaced with sandals.
He gave me a quick wink and sat on the edge of my bed; crossing his hairy legs
that would put my father’s to shame I am told by my grandmother. Not that he
ever wore shorts and especially not in public my mother confirmed it years
later, but to this day I have never seen them or have I ever seen him not fully
dressed in the home or in public. He reached into his pocket removing a jar
that held an old torn piece of cloth and small pieces of glass mingling with
small bits straw. It wasn’t hard to guess that the source of the infection was mostly
due to the scarecrow still naked in the old barn. Ma didn’t find it at all
funny as Doctor Hatfield came into the room.
Doc Hatfield laughed when he saw all of our expressions as he introduced him to
us after a brief hand hold hug and handshake and a pat on the back. Spying on
the jar with the contents only made matters worse; mentioning “So that old
scarecrow has had the last laugh I see.” But all he got was scowl from Ma when
she eyed the strange doctor in a dress and Doc Hatfield knew him personally. It
was if she’d been tricked. I knew I was in trouble.
To think that this man here
and his family would soon become my best friends. The world is indeed a strange
place. Don’t laugh too hard for what I am about to tell you. It was not a mere
coincidence or chance that Doctor Hatfield brought him of all the surgeons he
knew; like I said ace up his sleeve.
It wasn’t long before what they attended to me and my new embarrassing problem.
As Doctor Whitmore introduced his wife Rena and his son Frank his son wearing
an exact copy of what his father was wearing except his was blue or bluish as
the colors ran together, while they introduced themselves coming to his side as
we shook hands.
Rena Roslyn Whitmore named after her Grandmother born and raised in a small
backwoods town in Evansville Kentucky and was married by the time she turned
seventeen like most girls her age. She was small in statures like her mother at
5 feet 6 with long raven black hair and blue eyes. Her face rounded around the
corners with slim, but petite button nose giving her the look of angel according
to her husband and her two boys. She had a stubborn streak the would put a mule
to shame and was happy to be a stay at home mom, but she had the knack of a
seamstress and made leather sandals and other leather goods to sell in the
market during the long summer months and was known for her homespun clothing.
Frank was the oldest and took after his father with his short brown hair and
bright blue eyes and chiseled chin. He was growing fast for a boy of 14 almost
6ft tall and could put my friend Rocko feet to shame at size 15 at least. But
he was his mother's pride and joy and had her stubborn streak, but he was smart
as a whip and loved the outdoors like his brother Mark just a year younger than
him and his best friend Peter; who I will introduce later.
Frank handed me a package wrapped in a brown paper just begging to be opened.
What I found shocked me to the core. I found a bright blue dress in the same
style as Frank’s and his father and a pair of homemade sandals to boot. I
groaned setting them aside while everyone laughed except me and Ma and Pa as
they stood there stunned. Doctor Whitmore informed me that was going to be my
new clothing known as a “Kitenge gown” for men.
To me, a dress was a dress, and guys don’t wear dresses. Again streaking
was becoming more and more a better idea than wearing some dress. As soon Ma
got over the shock she said. “You got to be kidding Doctor?”
Doctor Whitmore calmly explained he needed me out of that bed in two days no
more no less. There was no way I could just wear a sheet and still move around
freely; having no contact of any clothing what so ever around my chest waist or
legs until I was completely healed. Sure I could go naked if I so desired, but
having a houseful of woman didn’t sound all that appealing either.
Since Mary and Lizzy have taken up residence there to watch over my family while
Pa and Ma spent quality time with me in the hospital. Grandma was busy taking
care of my brother and her son Don. (Richard’s character in my series; who has
told me to leave him out of this; so you can only read about him in my series.
If I want a place to stay; I will leave him out altogether, including
pictures.)
It was settled. After a good look over by both doctors; I was sent home wearing
a dress and a pair of comfortable sandals. So I could almost go completely
barefoot and still work on the farm and two pairs of crutches to keep the
stress off my legs and chest. (I had
pictures, but my father burned them with the rest of Downing’s stuff. Which I
will go into more detail when we arrive at the said event.)
It was nice to be
home again as I smelled the fresh country air while my Pa carried me into the
house. I was certainly glad I was decent despite I was wearing a dress that
barely covered my knees. While everyone yelled welcome home, with a big banner
across the fireplace and streamers and balloons in every color. Pa laid me on
the couch so I could visit with everyone.
I was embarrassed when all my family saw me in a dress, but one look in my
sisters and my brothers’ eyes and faces. I could have worn a clown suit and
wouldn’t matter one lick on how they felt about me. My sisters kissed me over
and over my face and head until Ma had to rescue me so I could come up for air.
My aunts nearly hugged me to death adding more bruises to my already sore body.
I never saw my sisters until later that day as they passed my bedroom and
sneered angrily when they saw me alive and well; being prodded along by my
Aunts. While Ma sat in a big chair doing some sewing keeping an eye on me; I
did my homework which had piled up since I was in the hospital. I had another
pair of new glasses waiting for me with a note from my Grandmother stating that
she was staying with my parents in hopes of protecting my brother.
The state felt since they could not determine who started the fight. There was
no reason that Aaron and my sisters should not live at home with my parents,
and there was not a single mark on either child to prove otherwise. There was
no reason they could find in separating them from their children. Again our
words against theirs did nothing to sway them. But having Grandma at my house,
she simply sent my sister to my aunts to levity the stress; without informing
the state. The matter was on the hush, hush side as for as everyone else was
concerned.
Pa was so angry he and the boys plowed the hay field nearly until nightfall. Pa
and Judge Parker had Mr. Stringum put up security cameras, the kind they used
in banks and the police station. One on the porch and in the living room,
attached to an alarm system that would notify the police just by a simple push
of a button by the door; so whenever my parents came over they’d be recording
every visit from now on.
Proof would never be overlooked again when concerned
with my parents. Yet the damage was done as I healed slowly from the wounds.
The summer picnic was coming closer to the new school year. My wounds would
keep me home for the entire summer and part of the school year according to
Doctor Whitmore when he came to visit bring the rest of his family to help me
and my brothers cope of being in a gown.
There was no way I’d wear a girl’s gown made for men in public. As I stared at
it until my eyes bleed sore from the colors. Even though my sisters didn’t mind
me wearing one, my brothers seemed bothered by it, but wouldn’t say anything
regarding it at least to me or to Ma’s face. Even my aunts grumbled under their
breath while they smiled seeing me sitting in bed doing my homework. Every time
I thought I’d catch them they immediately turned away from broaching the
subject re-tucking the sheet behind me so my butt didn’t show. I stopped caring
about it since the world had seen more than its share.
I spent more time wearing a sheet either on the couch or in my bed instead of
wearing an eyesore. Ma and my sisters would make sure I was covered folding a
large towel over my waist and the back of me or a sheet cut down small enough
so I wouldn’t sweat so much in the summer heat. Ma couldn’t stand it anymore
knowing I needed to get out of that bed after more than a week; a lot longer
than she had promised the doctor. She called in reinforcement to help. That was
when I met the rest of my new friends that made the world a brighter place.
Ma decided to throw a dinner party to thank everyone for all the help they had
given us. But Pa and we boys had other plans in mind. Having my aunts take them
on a long deserved shopping trip. Taking Sam and picking up Aaron and Grandma
along the way. This, in turn, gave us boys the opportunity, with Pa’s help to
give our gifts of love we had been saving for. Pa chipped in the rest that we
were short to help pay for the new dinnerware for Ma; and gifts for the aunts.
Even a small bottle of perfume and necklaces for the girls including Susan and
Becky so they wouldn’t feel left out; except theirs was store bought nothing
fancy compared to the ones we were giving to our sisters.
Robert cut heart shapes out of oak, and I carved each of their names in one and
sanded and polished stain each one until each of them shined into complete
heart shapes as smooth as a baby’s bottom. Robert then took them and hollowed
them out and fitted a clasp and a small golden hinge. Pa had taken pictures of
us boys and had them shrunk down so they could be placed into a locket while he
picked up the gift orders. Will carefully put them on a gold chain wrapped them
in tissue paper. In the prettiest blue and pink box, he could find; topped with
a blue or red bow. Susan’s and Becky were wrapped in a plain cardboard box with
leftover white Christmas bow in pretty wrapping paper.
Pa had an extra surprise for Ma hidden a way which made this the perfect moment
to give it to them. Pa covered all the basis with Mr. Whitmore and his boys.
They had agreed to our plans finding out they were looking for an opportunity
to give their Ma something special as well.
While the woman went shopping, we boys set our plans in motion. Pa laid me on
the couch with a brand new Swiss pocket knife that he had given me as a welcome
home present; placing a bucket near the coach and a sack of potatoes, carrots,
and apples to peel. And a dripper for the peelings, which the pigs ate happily;
while Pa and my brothers prepared a dinner that, would astound them when they
returned. Marry and Lizzy made sure to keep them busy long enough so we could
set our plans in motion, which included more guests Ma had invited not aware of
the plans Pa had already set ahead of time.
Having, Pa set out the table outside on the new foundation behind the
house. Yes, sir, it was going to be a dinner party to remember.
The table looked great on the foundation with twinkle lights strung around and
soft music playing in the background. Ma’s new dinnerware sparkled as we boys
placed the new linen napkins with a red rose on a plate for each of the girls.
In the corner, the presents were piled high with pretty wrapping and bows tied
with a name tag that I had spent time on using my best handwriting script. Pa
gave me two choices either the dress or spend the evening in my room lying in a
boring bed.
I hated the idea being seen in that dress especially in front of strangers, but
I hated being left in a room by myself more while the fun was out there. Pa
dressed me in the gown and carried me down the hall placing me on the couch
until our visitors arrived. Long before everyone else arrived, Mary called to
make sure that we would be ready; Pa said the Whitmore’s had arrived, but that
the boys needed a bath and asked her to stall for another hour or two.
Robert answered the door with his mouth wide open seeing a man wearing a bright
green dress and long black beads around his neck. His eyes narrowed on three
boys as Mr. Whitmore introduced Frank, Mark and their friend Peter Price; all
wearing similar gowns and sandals, holding packages under their arms.
Mark didn’t have the height yet like his brother just under 5 feet, but that
could change as his father put his arm around him. Sometimes he felt bad that
his grades weren’t as good as his brother, but he was a good athlete when came
to track and field. He loved how the wind would blow through his light brown
hair. Girls always seemed to be in awe of his deep blue eyes that were like his
mother. Sometimes he’d have to fight them off with a stick or run even faster
to get away from them. He loved working with leather and he helped his mother
making leather goods. Some would say he was a mamma's boy and tease him, but
his brother made life bearable whenever he got into a fight and would come to
his rescue; they were like two peas in a pod.
Peter Price was considered more than just a best friend to the Whitmore’s. He
was considered family just he was 13 years old; being raised by his
Grandmother. Who worked under Mr. Whitmore at the Payson Hospital as a nurse ever since his parents died when
he was a baby. He was too young to
remember them and always wished he had brothers so he wouldn’t feel alone in
the world. He had blond hair and blue eyes and was the smallest of the three,
but he didn’t mind. To him, this was where he belonged and he loved them just
the same and they consider him as their own; relation had nothing to do with
it.
After the introductions were made the boys quickly removed their sandals
setting them by the door. Frank explained that Ma doesn’t allow shoes in the
house; his Pa confirming it was true, removing his as he set his right next to
his boys and his wife’s before stepping into the houses. All Pa could do was
open the door watching a rainbow of color walk by them. Robert introduced the boys
to me while I stared at the bright colored gowns that would knock a bird out of
the sky. Mr. Whitmore laughed took a seat next to me, and his wife taking a
chair across from us; my Pa taking the other.
Robert and Will sat on the floor next to me staring at the gowns that most
likely make them go blind. Mr. Whitmore coughed stating why he was here; that
there was a reason why his sons and friends wore these gowns. Placing a photo
album on my lap, he began his story. Apparently, he was born and raised in a
small town that bordered Eastern Africa.
When he was a boy they were poor like most; not having expensive clothing. The
boys and girls would wear flour sacks sewn together; they were durable, cheap
and comfortable. More so during the hot summer months.
We looked down at the photograph seeing boys the same age as me and my brothers
playing kickball in the street wearing gowns similar to mine, and his sons. I
passed the photo around so everyone could see it. As he continued on with his
story on how he ended up here. Doctor Whitmore traveled from place to place
with a small nursing staff which included Peter’s Grandmother. Helping kids
like me that needed special care that other doctors could not give them.
Including help with severe night terrors of abused children.
Doctor Hatfield left nothing to chance. He knew from experience that I would
wake up screaming in the hospital night after night. Ma and Pa coaxing me,
calming me and telling me that nothing or nobody was going to harm me; but the
dreams continued regardless. (Nothing has changed after all these years. I
still cry at night after I had awakened from them. I still fear my dreams.)
It was Frank’s turn as I watched him take off his gown standing only in his
boxers; while he turned, letting me see all the scars that dug deep across his
chest and down his legs. Explaining that while riding his bike he hit a rock
causing him to roll down a hill into barbwire and breaking his leg in two
places. This gown was the only clothing he could wear other than a sheet. Mark
fell out of a tree and rolled in poison ivy. Peter had chicken pox last summer.
Frank and Mark handed Will and Robert each a package finding a new Kitenge gown
and pair of sandals. Robert’s was bright green and Will’s a bright sunflower
yellow.
All they could do was stare at the dresses in their hands. Not knowing what to
say. Mark laughed. “Besides it’s fun when you spin like this.” Twirling around
making the colors blend as the gowns ringed around him, which in turn made us
laugh. Robert and Will quickly ran down the hall to change and while the rest
of us laughed. It wasn’t long before they to wear spinning making my ribs hurt
from laughing so hard. But time was wasting and as Pa quickly told the boys to
bathe quickly hanging up the gowns for later. This was going to be a party like
no other.
Pa and the Whitmore’s quickly put the finishing touches on the table and doing
up the dishes. Man did we look smart; Robert and Will dressed in nice suits
with a black bow tie and polished shoes. Me in my blue gown going barefoot as
Pa placed me at the table next to the Whitmore boys and their friend Peter. It
was six o’ clock on the dot when the girls arrived from their shopping trip.
Will, Robert, and Pa standing by the door waiting for the ladies to enter the
house. Pa gave a bow to Ma handing her a red rose with a quick peck on the
cheek. Robert followed suit with Julie and Will did the same for Anna. I turned to give Grandma a rose as they stood
in shock seeing the Whitmore’s and the three boys dressed in gowns.
Ma was speechless seeing the table and the fine dinnerware, with candlelight.
She gasped trying to hold back the tears. Pa announced. “Dinner is served,
ladies. If you would care to freshens up, while the boys finish the dishes.”
Robert and Pa gave another bouquet of flowers to my aunts and Mrs. Whitmore and
each of my sisters a single rose.
Susan and Becky sneered in contempt as we watched them throw down the roses,
and stomp rudely down the hall with my Aunts and Grandmother following closely
behind. Grandma tried to apologize for their rude behavior grabbing some nice
dresses for the ladies. While Robert and Pa dressed Sam and Aaron in nice play
clothes not bothering with shoes or socks, knowing without a doubt they would
be quickly left behind within the hour. Besides Ma hated it when wore our shoes
in the house and complained often enough regarding the dirt and scuffs on her
wooden floors.
Robert, Will, and Pa stood as they led the ladies to the table. Each pulling a
chair out and sliding them in behind them; Mr. Whitmore followed suit with his
wife. Robert and Will served everyone as if they were waiters at a fancy
restaurant. Pa put on soft music from the radio and taking his seat at the
other end of the table; Susan and Becky glared angrily at the boys across from
them. Even more so when they stared at
me with such hate and contempt as they merely pushed the food around on their
plates.
Susan stated, “This food is not fit for pigs, and I rather starve than be
poisoned by filthy backwoods mongrels.” Grandma hissed angrily, almost slapped
her; but kept her anger in control. Not easily mind you as I watched Aunt Lizzy whisper in her ear that made Susan's eyes pop. Whatever she said, it brought my
sister’s attitude in check; for she was silent through the rest of dinner.
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