Cruel Harvest (13 page)

The door opened, and the smell of breakfast washed into the porch. My stomach rumbled as I followed after Aunt Tessie with Nellie and Robbie close behind. She took us through the kitchen. Everything had been cleaned up, and there was no food in sight. Brenda and Susie were on their knees, side by side, bent over a pail filled with sudsy water. The floor looked freshly scrubbed. Aunt Tessie led us to three chairs spaced side by side in her living room. They were wooden with high backs and no padding. She pointed to them and told Robbie, Nellie, and I to each take one.

At that time, Robbie was five, I was nearing eight, and Nellie was almost ten. Aunt Tessie looked us over as Brenda and Susie slipped out the front door.

“You're a mess,” she said. “Go to the bathroom and then get back in here. You sit in these chairs and don't speak or touch a thing. Do you understand?”

We filed into the bathroom. I took her words to heart and stared into the mirror. My hair was knotty, and my face had the grime of our journey still shadowing my features. I turned the water on and tried to wash it off. I did my best with my hair, but even clean it has always been unruly. In the end, I fussed so much that I forgot to use the bathroom. I went back out and took a seat next to Robbie. And the minutes of the day passed like a slug crossing the front walk.

As we sat there, I heard laughter. It came closer and closer before the front door swung open and Tessie's children came inside. They were flushed from running. When they saw us, they stopped and stared. One leaned over and whispered to the other. I heard the word
devil
but nothing else. Then they were off, back to their life of fun and music. The distant sounds of their jubilation made it almost impossible to sit still.

Most days were similar to that first. If we were given breakfast at all, we had five minutes to finish it before the table was cleared. We learned quickly to use the bathroom first thing in the morning because it would be our only chance during the day. We did not have much liquid going in and hardly any food, which made it easier to get through the day without a bathroom break. We marched to our chairs without being told to because we knew that breaking the rules meant no food.

We had to sit still. Even talking was not allowed. We learned to daydream and keep our minds active. All day, we would long for bedtime, when we could at least whisper to each other and stretch out our legs. It was also the only other time we were allowed to use the bathroom.

Our interactions with Tessie's children just got worse. They learned they had free reign to tease us as often and as badly as they wished. Often, one would skip by and stop long enough to pull our hair or pinch us. If we cried out, they would call us liars and we would get switched or worse. What they whispered that first day became open taunts and judgments. They repeated what their mother called us: “little devils.”

The worst moments, though, were when we would hear Mama in the kitchen speaking with Aunt Tessie. The sound of her voice was like an escape for me, but it would make it all the harder to sit still in my chair. All I wanted to do was run to her, but I'd learned quickly not to do that. Instead, I sat and wished she would come to us. Sometimes I would hear her footsteps as she walked out into the family room. They would get closer and closer to our spot in the living room. Before I could see her, though, more footsteps would quickly follow.

Once, when Mama reached our doorway to look in on us, Tessie was right on her heels, saying, “Don't you fuss with them, angel.” Mama flinched and Tessie put an arm around her, steering her back toward the family room.

“Why don't you go take a nap, angel? You need time to heal from what that man did to you. Remember, these are Broadus's kids and as evil as he is.”

As they walked from the room, I could still hear Tessie's words. “They don't love you, and the devil is in them, like he was in their father. They steal food from me. I've seen them.”

I could tell Mama wanted to come to us. I knew she loved us no matter what Aunt Tessie said. But Mama had traded one bully for another. Daddy had broken her. Aunt Tessie saw that and used it to control Mama. Abuse, as I have learned, comes in many different forms, each one leading to the same awful place.

Things were never good at Aunt Tessie's house, but they got much worse when Mama left. At first, she came in and said good night to us every night. When that stopped, we figured out a way to see her. Aunt Tessie would not let us drink water before bedtime. She told Mama we would wet the bed. We were all very thirsty, but we figured out that if we coughed long enough, Mama would come in and give us a spoonful of brown vinegar. She thought it was good for the cough. We children would all start coughing and coughing until she came in. The vinegar was bitter, but it at least helped wet our parched mouths. Seeing Mama was the real medicine.

One night, the coughing started. All of us joined in, but the door never opened. We coughed and coughed, but no one came. Eventually, we fell asleep without a visit from Mama.

The next day, I listened for her but heard nothing. It was not until the day after that I realized my mother was not in the house. I have no idea where she went, and Aunt Tessie never told us, but Mama was gone. Brenda and Susie had both left, too, and I never saw or heard from either while we lived with Tessie. I never asked where they went. Susie left one night and she never returned. Brenda told me later that Tessie threw her out of the house. Then Brenda moved out a few days after Susie. She found a job as a waitress and rented a tiny room in downtown Spartanburg. As time dragged on, things got far worse for those of us left in that house of horrors.

One of the first changes I noticed came the day after Mama left. Aunt Tessie had company over, and she moved our chairs into the dark hallway past the kitchen. A few days later more visitors came. This time she told us that “decent folk” didn't want to be near us. She told us we were devils because of who our father was, and she sent us to bed with no supper to make sure her friends did not have to bear the sight of us. It didn't make any sense to me that we could be devils if my mama was an angel, like she called her. But logic didn't seem to be one of Aunt Tessie's strong points.

As time passed, she grew more and more bizarre in her attitude and actions toward us. One Sunday evening our door creaked open. Aunt Tessie paraded a group of adults into our room. All were finely dressed and wearing hats and gloves, like they were on their way to church. They stood in the doorway, gawking at us.

“They are devious,” Aunt Tessie said, patting her eyes with a handkerchief. “It is awful to have that devil's children in my Christian home.”

They nodded their agreement, looking us up and down.

“I'm a churchgoing woman. I don't know what I did to deserve this burden,” Tessie lied.

“You're a saint,” one woman clucked.

“You deserve a medal,” another soothed.

Aunt Tessie gravely nodded before leading her guests out of our room and leaving us alone for the night. I lay in bed and wondered,
Is
that why I am still not allowed to go to school?

It was about that time that Aunt Tessie decided to starve us. We never had much to eat there, but after Mama left, our allotted portions became even smaller. One evening, I smelled supper cooking. My mouth watered as I waited for Aunt Tessie to call us in to the table. Instead, she called in her children. I listened to the tinkle of their silver and the lilt of happy voices. Still, we were not summoned.

Eventually, Tessie's children appeared. When they saw us staring hungrily at them, they laughed. One rubbed her tummy.

“Mm–mm.”

Giggling, they ran out. I could barely contain myself, I was so hungry. Finally, Aunt Tessie called out.

“Come on in here.”

We rushed into the kitchen. I was the last to come through the doorway. As Nellie and Robbie took their seats, Tessie looked at me.

“Not you, Frances. You go out there and clean up my sewing. And fix that mess you all made in the bathroom this morning.”

I froze, my stomach growling loudly.

“Get on with you,” she snapped, staring at me with squinted eyes.

I rushed out to do as I was told. I finished up as quickly as I could and raced back to the kitchen. When I arrived, Nellie and Robbie had finished eating. The table was clean. Aunt Tessie smirked at me. It was truly a wicked sight.

“You should have finished your work faster. You missed your allotted time.”

I believe that if Mama had been there, Tessie would not have dared starve me. The next morning, we sat down for breakfast. I was so hungry that I ate mine and licked the plate, without paying much attention to anyone else. Robbie was in one of his goofy moods. He started singing an Elvis Presley song that we'd heard coming from her young daughter's room.

“Won't you wear my ring around your neck?” he sang.

Had I not been so hungry, I might have hushed him. As it was, Aunt Tessie came in before I could say anything. She had a grim smile on her linear face.

“What were you singing, Robbie?” she asked.

Her tone was matter-of-fact, and little Robbie was so innocent he did not understand what was about to happen.

“
Wow
my wing wound
yoo
kneck,” he said.

“Why don't you sing a little louder,” she said.

Robbie, thinking he'd done something good, burst out even louder.

“Won't YOO WOW my wing, wound YOO neck?”

I did not see the coat hanger in her hand until she was bending it around Robbie's neck.

“Maybe this will remind you to keep silent with your devil's music,” she said.

Robbie had to wear that wire around his neck all day. He never did know why. That was one of the last breakfasts we were served. We never got lunch, and after Mama left, supper became hit or miss until one day we got nothing. No food and no water; nothing for the entire day. It was like an experiment.

We sat in our chairs all the next day. Our stabbing hunger pains had been replaced by a dull ache. My lips cracked and my tongue felt twice the size it should. Each hour ticked by as slowly as molasses dripping from a spoon. When the sun set, we were sent to bed again; no water and no food.

The next day was the same until, in the afternoon, Aunt Tessie summoned us to the kitchen. She sat at the table as we stood with barely enough strength to stay upright. She looked us up and down. There was a strange glow behind her eyes.

“If you could have just one,” she asked, “food or water, what would it be?”

“Water,” we all said, our voices harsh.

Very slowly, she poured three cups. I stared so hard I thought she'd slap me, but she did not. Instead, she handed us each a cup and nodded. I drank like everything else in the world vanished. I gulped it down. It made me feel sick, but I could not stop.

I believe Aunt Tessie knew she had taken us dangerously close to complete dehydration. She let us drink as much as we wanted. I learned later in life that she was experimenting on us like lab rats. She wanted to know how long a person could go without food and water.

It was times like those that I wondered which had been worse, living with Tessie or with Daddy. My Daddy was far more violent, but Tessie watched everything we did. We could not flinch without her coming down on us, whereas Daddy spent hours paying us no attention at all while he was passed out or in a bar getting drunk. The only good that came of living with Tessie was that Mama never got hurt. I could suffer in silence for Mama, and I did.

Every night when the house was quiet, we prayed that Mama would come back and take us away from this misery. Kneeling together in the middle of the bed, the three of us prayed as Mama had taught us, with our hands folded together and our heads bowed.

“Dear Jesus, please bring our mama back and get us out of this house,” we whispered. Then we said our nighttime prayer, “Now I lay me down to sleep.”

I can still hear my little brother's soft voice whispering those words. He couldn't speak plainly yet, but his curly blond head bowed as he kept up with his sisters as best he could. Even though his speech was not clear, his little heart was filled with faith, and I was sure that God heard his prayers.

As suddenly as
Mama disappeared, she returned to us. I was sitting in my chair one evening when I caught a glimpse of her walking down the hallway. Months before I would have jumped up and run to her, but Tessie had total control over us by then. Instead, I sat as still as usual, listening to a muffled voice rise and turn angry. Mama's footsteps approached once but stopped suddenly, and the voices grew louder still. Then it was bedtime. We did not try to cough, nor did she visit our room. Deep inside, despite the abuse Tessie had doled out, I hoped the cruelty would stop once Mama was home. It did not change.

Another few weeks passed and winter approached. The trees made stark shadows in the dark, long, freezing nights. One day, while we were sitting in our chairs, Tessie came into the living room.

“Come with me, children,” she said. I wondered what cruel torture she had cooked up this time, a bit surprised that she'd even referred to us as children.

She led us into the family room and stood proudly, pointing to the giant Christmas tree she had displayed to the world through the picture window. It was painstakingly decorated with twinkling lights, ornaments, and tinsel. I could see the pride and pleasure in her face. She allowed us “monsters” to march around the tree, expecting us to compliment her hard work. Robbie enjoyed it, his little feet skipping as he walked. Nellie looked at it in awe and smiled sweetly at Tessie. She told Aunt Tessie how lovely her tree was and what a great job she had done on the decorations. Tessie glowed and waited for my praise. I refused to show any emotion. I acted as if the tree was not even present in the room. I stared at the beautiful lights reflecting off the perfectly arranged tinsel. It was a lovely sight, and a Christmas tree always gladdens a child's heart, but I had made my mind up. I would not love her or try to make her love me any longer. Instead, I made no comment and stared straight ahead. I refused to show any emotion. I knew it would hurt her, at least a little, and that was just fine with me.