Cruel Harvest (16 page)

We danced around the windows, pressing our noses to the glass as Mama bustled about the house. We put on our shoes and Mama returned with what seemed half of the clothes we owned. She bundled us up as best she could and then handed us each a pair of socks. Nellie and I just looked at them. Robbie tried to pull them on over his shoes.

“For your hands.” Mama laughed.

We used those socks for mittens and ran on out into the snow. The world was totally silent. Snow was so rare in South Carolina that nobody got out to drive unless they absolutely had to. It was early in the morning, and we seemed to be the only ones stirring. All the dirt and debris around the house was covered in white. The front yard was a winter wonderland. Even Nellie's and Robbie's laughter sounded different, clear, like a melody. We had one little part of the world all to ourselves.

We played for hours. I had so much fun I forgot all about school being canceled. From time to time, I'd take a break from throwing snowballs at Robbie or making snow angels and take a look at the window by the front door. There I saw Mama watching us, a smile on her face. It warmed me, even as chunks of ice and snow snuck down my neck and melted against the skin of my back. I wore canvas tennis shoes, and they quickly soaked through with melting snow. My feet were numb, but I continued to roll a ball of snow until we had a giant, round lump to start our first snowman.

When we couldn't take the cold any longer, the three of us trudged inside. Mama was there waiting for us. She guided us into the kitchen; we were all talking at once, telling her everything we'd done in the snow. We dripped on the linoleum as she turned on the gas oven and opened its door. She sat us down in front of the heat and put our feet up on a chair, stripping our wet socks off and hanging them on the back of another chair. The warmth felt wonderful to my freezing toes.

“You shoulda seen it,” Nellie said. “We slid all the way down the hill out front. Robbie almost rolled right out onto the street.”

Nellie kept on chattering. Mama, listening to every word, knelt down and rubbed our bare feet between both her hands, trying to get the blood flowing. I kept my mouth shut tight. I was afraid that if I said anything, if I moved even a muscle of my body, the magic would break and the moment would be lost.

That next Monday,
reality struck. The principal called Nellie and me into the office again. It was the third time, and I knew it was a far bigger issue than my leaving Mama's bloomers in the alley. The questions were getting deeper and closer to the mark.

“What did you have for dinner?”

“How often do you bring a lunch to school?”

“Are you ever left alone in the house?”

“Does your mother have visitors often?”

Nellie and I did not lie to the principal, nor did we offer any more in our answers than we had to. Again we went back to class, but we did not soon forget that meeting. When I got home that afternoon, I knew something was very wrong. The house was quiet, and Mama was sitting in a chair waiting for us. I could tell she was sober, but this time it was not a happy feeling. I suddenly understood why the house was silent.

Looking around the room, I asked, “Where's Robbie?”

“Social Services took him away. They are gonna find him a nice home to live in.”

I didn't understand.
Who took my brother?
“What is Social Services? Why did they take Robbie?”

Mama reached her arms out toward Nellie and me.

“He's going to be happier now. We have to leave him alone.”

“They can't do that!” I shouted.

“Calm down and sit, Frances. You, too, Nellie. I have something to tell you.”

Nellie and I looked at each other. Neither of us understood. I felt as though some alien had taken over Mama's body and was making her say these things. She couldn't be sitting calmly and talking while my little brother had been kidnapped!

Mama went on to explain what had happened. The school board had a meeting and contacted Social Services. They told Mama that she had to find safer arrangements for the two of us as well. What I could not totally understand, and what was left unsaid, was that Social Services had deemed Mama unfit to care for us any longer.

“What about us?” Nellie asked.

Mama sounded excited when she answered. “I found a great place for you two. It's in Greenwood, not too far from here. It is called Connie Maxwell Children's Home. It's a beautiful place, and they'll take good care of you. They have lots of toys for you to play with, and hundreds of other kids live there. You'll both have bedrooms all your own. And Frances, guess what! There is a school right there at the home.”

I barely heard the words she said. Instead, I heard that we were to be shipped off and abandoned. I could not understand why she sounded so cheerful. I hid my feelings and forced a smile on my face. I didn't want Mama to be sad or know how upset I was. Nellie questioned her.

“Will I have a doll of my own?” I looked at Nellie, not believing what she was saying.
Who wants a doll? Let's try and get Robbie back
home!

Mama went on building up a beautiful story about toys, food, and children. Nellie listened with wide-eyed interest. I just wanted to be alone. Robbie was my best friend. I went up to the third floor of the old house. We never used the top floor because it was so hard to heat the whole house, and some of the windows were broken, but I knew no one would look for me up there. I sat for a long time with an open book in my lap, staring thin-lipped at a page that would normally make me laugh. I couldn't find any joy at that moment.

The next day
started what felt like a month of doctor's appointments. We had shots and examinations. We were pricked, prodded, and poked. When I got tired of it, I asked Mama why we had to go through all this.

“They just want to be sure you are healthy. You need your shots before you live with all those nice children.”

It was not just physical health they were testing, though. Toward the end of the week, Mama made an announcement.

“We have to visit the psychiatrist today.”

What?
“I don't want to talk to a kyatrist,” I said.

Mama shrugged. “Well, you can't get in the Children's Home until you do.”

“No!” I said, folding my arms across my boney chest. “I'm not goin'!”

My response took her by surprise. I had acted so stoically since she let us know we would be leaving.

“Frances, don't you act up now. It isn't gonna hurt or nothing.”

“I'm
not GOIN
'.”

I rarely disobeyed Mama, but this was the line. I wasn't worried about pain. At that time in my life, I knew I was very different from the other children. I didn't look like them and I didn't act the same. I didn't know if I was crazy or not, but I didn't want to find out. I had also heard that psychiatrists put crazy people in cages like animals. I had visions of being stuck in a Frankensteinlike movie with a wild-eyed, mad doctor coming at me, cackling and wringing his hands.

“Mama, what if he says I'm crazy?”

She laughed. “Frances, you're not crazy.”

“What if I am, though, and you just don't know it?”

Mama looked down at me. “Stop worrying. I would know.”

“But suppose that he says I
am
crazy,” I persisted. “What if they want to take me away?”

“Frances, you're not any crazier than I am.”

That didn't help me a whole lot.

“Will you promise that I won't get locked away if he decides I'm a little nuts?”

“I promise no one is going to lock you away. He's just gonna ask you a few questions. Then you'll be able to go to that wonderful home.”

After getting Mama to promise me a few more times that I would not be locked away, I finally let her take me to the appointment. I crept into the office, afraid to look up.

“Hello Frances,” a man said.

I peeked through my blond, stringy bangs to find a normal-looking man sitting in a leather chair. He did not have a white lab coat or wild hair standing up straight. Nor was he laughing like an evil villain. It was the most painless appointment of my life to that date.

Mama didn't have any visitors over that week, and she didn't go out at night. I knew that life was changing. Robbie was already gone. Nellie and I would be next. But Mama spent her days telling us how happy we would be.

“You should see it,” Mama said. “Oaks bigger around than you can reach. And big houses—mansions. The people are so kind there. You'll never want for anything.”

The day finally
came. That morning, Mama led us around the house. I gathered my meager belongings into a small sack, and Nellie did the same. Neither of us spoke to each other, but Mama filled our silence with more stories.

“The Connie Maxwell home is so beautiful. You will love it there.”

I cringed inside as she spoke. It sounded to me as though she wanted us to be happy, so I tried to put on a smiling face to spare her feelings. Secretly, I started to believe that Connie Maxwell was an evil place, full of danger. My biggest worry was that I would never see my mother again.

As Mama walked us out the front door, all I could think about was missing her. I noticed a car parked on the street. Mama led us to it and opened the back door. Nellie and I climbed inside, clutching our belongings. The door shut, and I watched Mama get in the front seat. That is when I first saw the driver. It was Aunt Tessie. Suddenly, I was starving for food. I felt like I hadn't eaten for days! I was absolutely famished.

I was very surprised and disappointed to see Tessie. I had hoped that we could spend this time alone with Mama. The car pulled away from the curb, and Tessie never spoke a word to either of us. I was still very afraid of Aunt Tessie, so I didn't speak for the entire ride to the children's home. After a few minutes on the road, Tessie reached back from the front seat, a loaf of bread in her hand. Nellie, more composed than I was, took it. A full jar of mayonnaise followed, along with a butter knife. Aunt Tessie didn't protest when we opened the jar and made mayonnaise sandwiches. I nearly swallowed mine whole, expecting her to whirl around and take it from me. She never did, and Nellie ate until she was full while Mama and Aunt Tessie talked in the front seat.

When Nellie was finished, I continued to eat. I ate all the bread that was left. When that was gone, I dipped the knife in the jar and ate the mayonnaise by itself. An hour or so later, when we arrived at Connie Maxwell Children's Home, I was still starving for food.

“We're here,” Mama said.

I had been leaning my head against the window. When I raised up and looked out, what I saw amazed me. Just as Mama had said, the street was lined with hundred-year-old oak trees. Mansion-type houses sat scattered across acres of well manicured green lawns. The car rolled slowly by a concrete statue of three children running and playing with a huge cross shadowing them. We passed several two-story brick buildings with giant white columns; they looked like the mansions Mama had promised us.

The car came to a stop outside the largest of the buildings. Mama unloaded us, and I was relieved to see that Aunt Tessie stayed behind. We walked up to the front door, and Mama opened it. I clutched her hand, afraid to walk inside. Nellie just stepped right in as if she was happy to be there.

Mama took us into a large, spotless office with a huge window that opened up to the grounds. A woman with dark hair sat behind an oversized desk. She smiled at us and spoke in a friendly voice.

“Can I help you?”

Mama introduced us. Nellie said hi while I hid behind Mama's dress. Another person arrived and led us on a tour of the grounds. Under different circumstances, it would have seemed an amazing place. It had its own church, post office, grocery store, swimming pool, school, and even a cemetery. Mama asked a lot of questions and prompted me often, but I hung back. I knew what was coming, and she had to push or pull me along.

We arrived at one of the two-story buildings, and our guide announced that this would be our new home. I was slow to grasp what she meant until Mama took a step away from me. I reached out for her, but she pushed me back. Mama knelt down on the front porch and looked me in the eye.

“Frances, this is your home now. They will take better care of you than I can. You'll have a great life here. The one you shoulda had before.”

“No,” I moaned. “I don't want to stay here! I'll be good and I won't eat much. I promise I'll be good! Mommy, don't leave me here!”

Mama looked away and wiped at her eyes. “I want you to be strong for me and take care of Nellie.”

“I don't want to be strong. I wanna go home!”

“You can't come with me this time,” Mama said. “I love you. I'll be by to visit all the time. You'll see. I promise you will love it here.”

I knew it was going to happen. No amount of crying would change things. I forced myself to stand up straight and wiped my eyes with the hem of my dress.