Skeletons

CHAPTER FOUR

Marie had been up for hours; she had already made phone calls and cleaned the kitchen. Turning up the gospel music she began her cleaning spree in the next room. Allowing the music to soothe her grieving soul, attempting to think of her childhood optimistically. Despite her best efforts she was having a very hard time with seeing her youth as anything other than what it was, absolute chaos.

"Memories of her youth were disastrous; she had always done her best not to remember. In fact, most of her memories were nothing but pain she just wanted to keep buried. However, she wasn't sure how much longer she could keep the family secrets."

"Painful memories are the suffering, like shards of glass, the tighter you cling to them, the deeper the cut. Causing you to bleed, almost hemorrhaging with each gash. The emotional scars were the hardest to get over because they seem to jump out without warning. A word said in anger during an argument with someone you truly love; cuts you deeper, scarring you more."

"A difficult childhood," she would say. As if my pain didn't matter. "Girl, you don't even know the half of the meaning." "Hell, my daddy used to use us as rag dolls. Pulling me up by the scruff of my shirt, tossing me back down like the floor did not exist." Yanked out of .... The yelling pulled Marie out of her memory. She turned down the music.

"MOM!" Samantha yelled. "I'm going to run to the store, do you want anything?" She asked.

"NO sweetie, thank you for asking." Marie said, as she turned back to her cleaning.

Doris knew her sister well enough to realize when the gospel came on to just let it play. Marie would come around eventually and tell her what was on her mind. Until then she kept cleaning. She stepped outside without disturbing Marie and sat down on the step to smoke.

The air after an exceptional rainstorm always alluded to purifying what generally people in Kansas considered putrefying scent of a normal August day. Doris took another drag off her lit cigarette and inhaled. This was the first time she had really sat down all morning. She could still hear the gospel music, this time it was a Dottie Rambo song. Listening to Never Been This Homesick Before, brought tears to Doris eyes and a flood of memories.

"All things are subject to interpretation." ― Friedrich Nietzsche

Doris had a different childhood than the rest of her siblings, however, still fraught with her own demons. Her mother had learned a lot about herself by the time she had come along. Abandonment seemed to be the theme of Doris' childhood, everywhere she looked there was another man to take her place. Doris realized she wasn't a child anymore, in fact, she was a grownup. Roots is what she missed; her father had already died by the time she was three. She was a surprise to begin with, so her mother looked at her as a second chance. Which by the time she was ten, had completely muddled that too? Each sibling had their own memories of mom and hers seemed to be the better of the three.

Some days you could see the abandoned child, it was like watching someone bleed out emotionally. Other days she hid her well. Adrenaline floods your system; it pumps and beats like it's trying to escape. FEAR! that is what really gets you. It pounds and wallops you until you give into its alarming delivery of screeching spasm of heartache. Doris used photography and paint to escape her childhood. Sometimes deluded herself to the detriment to her own mental health.

The screech of the front door opening brought Doris out of her head, realizing her sister had stepped out behind her; she scooted over and padded the step. "Have you seen Samantha?" She asked. "Yep! she went to get something from the store." Doris replied. "Well, I got the kitchen and part of the living room done. What have you gotten completed?" She asked, handing Doris a glass of sweet tea. Doris answered. "The sitting room is finished, and the front bathroom is also done. I was going to start on the front bedroom when I came back in."

The car engine turning off caught their attention. Samantha was back, a paper bag in one hand and Dr. Pepper in the other. "Sorry, we were getting low on Pine Sol and I was hungry. Cheeseburgers from Wendy's for everyone." She said. "Cheeseburgers sound great." Doris said grabbing the bag and stepping into the house. "I will get the plates because I can smell the fries from here." She laughed, leaving mother and daughter to visit a few before an inevitable food coma commenced.

Marie didn't know exactly where to start this conversation. She could feel the negative emotions swirling around her head, making her lightheaded. If she'd rehearsed this conversation once, she'd rehearsed it a thousand times. Now that she was sitting in front of Samantha, her mouth had gone dry and her heart was beating more forcefully than it usually did. Anxious thoughts are akin to driving around the block over and over, faster and faster.

"I can do this." She said to herself. Clearing her throat. "Ahem."

Samantha watched her mother, fidget uncomfortably. Blurting out! "What is it mom!" I little on the frustrated side. she realized immediately that she had snapped at her. "AWW Shit! I'm sorry didn't mean to bite your head off. I guess I'm just anxious. Although I don't understand why now. Samantha saw the shock register on her mother's face before she could hide it. For that split second her grief suspended the surprised look at the tone of voice used by her oldest daughter.

Words left her, starring into her daughter's dark brown eyes burning with an instant of frustration. Tears trickled down her cheek. Brushing them away she jumped up, "never mind." As she ran into the house and straight to the bathroom.

The slam of the door brought Doris from the back room. "What in the world!" She said.

"I raised my voice in frustration but really didn't mean too, now she is crying." Samantha said. Throwing her hands in the air.

Doris walked over and gently knocked on the bathroom door. "Marie! Marie honey, are you ok?" She could hear the water running through the pipes and the groan of those pipes as she quickly shut off the faucet. Marie mumbled through the door. "Yea." Just a little emotional today.

Samantha went to the kitchen to grab a burger and fries. She was starving and frustrated which usually made her eat more. Why did every conversation with her mother end in a shouting match or in tears? She threw the burger in the microwave and munched on the cold fries. Thinking that there had to be a better way to talk to her mother. She grabbed a glass out of the cupboard and placed it in the ice machine. The whir of the ice making its way to the glass made her think of other machine noises. Like the bang of the cupboard door, or the sound of wind blowing. "I have always loved the wind, for it comes boldly, touching my skin. In coldness it rouses me to wakefulness, an alertness that allows me to savor the moments of dryness. In soft breezes it is finer than silk, smoother than water."

Samantha was beginning to miss the ocean, miss California all together with its very warm summers and chilly winters. Fifty-five degrees had become chilly in twenty years of living within hours of the coast. Yes, the air in Fresno was sometimes impossible to breathe, and the traffic was getting unbearable, just like any big city it had its crime and drama. But Fresno had become home. She was tired of sleeping in her grandmothers' house. Tired of living out of a suitcase, tired of taking quick showers. She wanted to sleep in her own bed, soak in her own tub full of bubbles and bath salts. She wanted to pull clothes out of her closet and go longer than a few days without folding laundry. She would go home. Yep, that was it; she would just go home. Everything was done here. They didn't really need her anymore. She would just go home. Samantha grabbed her cell phone and looked up airline tickets back to Fresno, California. The earliest she would be able to get was on Wednesday afternoon. "I guess that will have to do." She thought, as she confirmed her purchase and then went to the bedroom where the stuff was and began organizing everything. Next, she would go let her mother and aunt know that it was time for her to head back home. She only had a couple more nights in this room and then she would be headed back home.