Chapter 5

Chapter 5
Life at home was no bed of roses. It’s no wonder I spent my days riding off with Willie. Money was tight.

The Chorus teacher told us we would have to have a white blouse and black skirt with black shoes. We had a concert coming up soon. When I asked my mother, she said, “We can’t afford it” and my heart sank. Somehow, and just in time, she came through with the clothes but I was so tired of hearing that, “We can’t afford it”.

For some odd reason, my baby sister was going through a stage of throwing up, all the time. Sharing a bed with her was certainly no fun. One night, a few minutes after she had fallen asleep, she suddenly rose up, leaned over my pillow and threw up. Why me?


My grandparents came, from south Texas, for a visit. On grandmother’s insistence, she did not want to put the children out of their beds, she and grandpa slept on cots out in the carport.


That’s the way things were done, back in those days. Visiting family didn’t go to a motel. Family took care of family and put them up, in their homes. We just made room for more.


The carport consisted of three solid walls but was open in the front. They put up a huge curtain across the front, to make a room. It’s a good thing the weather was warm. I felt guilty, the whole time they were there and would have gladly given up my bedroom for them.


As if that wasn’t bad enough, my aunt came to visit, uninvited, along with her husband and new baby. There was no love loss between my aunt and I, as this was the girl who had abused me when I was just a year old.


Betty was only about 13, at the time. She, being my mother’s little sister, was always jealous of my mother. When my mother married, it aggravated my aunt. For the first time, my mother had something that Betty could not take from her. When I came along, Betty took it out on me, in secret. It was something only she and I knew because, at the time, I was only a year old.
Needless to say, I hated my aunt. Now she was in my living room, pushing her way into an already crowded situation.


Mother made us two girls, give up the bedroom and let my aunt and uncle, along with their baby, take over. During their stay, their baby chewed the nose off my favorite Teddy Bear.
Their second day visiting, I came home from school, expecting to change my clothes and go riding with Willie, as usual. As I came through the front door, my aunt said, “Judy. Would you mind taking the baby for a walk?” This meant pushing a stroller around the block.


Considering that my aunt never lifted a finger to help with anything, whenever she came to visit, I saw no reason why I should have to tend to her motherly duties. I said, “No”, which was promptly followed by my mother’s voice demanding, “You can help your aunt out. Take the baby for a walk!”


I was forced to call Willie, to let her know that I was unavailable to go riding, today. Making a simple phone call, back in those days, was no fun either. We had, what was called, a ‘party line’, which meant we could have up to five other homes using the same line. The only way we knew which incoming calls were for whom, was by the number of rings: one long ring, one short ring, two short rings or one long and one short ring. Youngsters today just don’t know what they are missing.


Willie, gracefully came along for the walk, bless her heart. As girls will do, I unloaded my bitter feelings toward my aunt. Willie was a great friend and tried to make suggestions that might help.
The next day, I came home from school to hear the same commands. Knowing that my aunt was doing this to me, for the same reasons as always, this was the day of the great explosion. I flatly refused. When my mother again insisted, I again refused.


I wound up in my mother’s bedroom, her finger in my face and demanding for me to be kind to her sister. For the first time in my life, I came against my mother and flatly refused. Before long, emotions flared and I uttered the words, I had held back for over 12 years. “I don’t give a damn about her. I hope she dies!”


This, of course, rocked my mother’s world. I had never before, denied my mother anything. I had never expressed my hatred toward anybody, much less her own sister. I did not take that baby for a walk. I did go riding with Willie.


The great divide, between my mother and me, began that very day. She never knew what her sister had done to me. I never told her. From a child’s point of view, I saw my mother siding with my enemy.