Blood Wild

Blood Wild

(Prequel to Blood Wrong)

Geraldine awoke with a start. There was a commotion outside. The bedroom she shared with her younger sister Lee overlooked the back porch of the old house. It was very hot all that day and well into the night, so the girls had their windows wide open in hopes of whatever errant breezes might happen along. Still, well after two in the morning, the gauzy linen curtains hung limp and all their blankets and sheets had been kicked off. Their pillows were as damp as their hair from perspiration.

Getting carefully out of bed so as not to wake Lee who was still sleeping, Geraldine crept over to the open window to glance down into the back yard off the porch. The commotion that had awakened her was the raucous noise from a drunken fool rolling about on the ground still holding a bottle and trying to sing. Or at least that was part of the commotion, the other being her mother who was disgustedly beating at the rolling figure with a straw broom usually used for sweeping dirt and debris off the porch. In this instance Deeny, as everyone called her, determined it was still being used to sweep dirt away. Making a face that bordered on sneering, she spat out the window and turned to go back to bed.

With a huff, she lay back down in the bed she shared with her sister Lee. Lee roused a bit and asked what was going on. Deeny took a deep breath and puffed out her cheeks blowing it out in the form of a perturbed sigh.

"Pa's home... Mom is angry as usual." She said quietly but with a touch of venom.

"Been drinking again?" Lee asked timidly.

"Been?... Still is!" She spat out disgustedly.

"Guess that's why mom's angry." Lee offered.

"Well, I'm sure it didn't matter any worse that he was drunk again." Deeny murmured and fanned herself with a fan made of folded paper glued to a popsicle stick.

The fanning motion moved the heavily moisture laden air about actually cooling both her and her sister Lee somewhat. The surface of their skin, that was bare beyond their thin cotton gowns, was still beaded with sweat. The electric fan wasn't working again. Perhaps because the electricity had been turned off yet again as well. It was almost normal now, it had happened so often this past couple of years. Just another deprivation that they knew they must endure when times were hard.

"The name she gave was Caroline...

Daughter of a miner...

Her ways were free...

It seemed to me...

That sunshine walked beside her"...

(((Full Lyrics to the song)))

The name she gave was Caroline

Daughter of a miner

Her ways were free

It seemed to me

That sunshine walked beside her

She came from Spencer

Across the hill

She said her pa had sent her

'cause the coal was low

And soon the snow

Would turn the skies to winter

She said she'd come

To look for work

She was not seeking favors

And for a dime a day

And a place to stay

She'd turn those hands to labor

But the times were hard, Lord,

The jobs were few

All through Tecumseh valley

But she asked around

And a job she found

Tending bar at Gypsy Sally's

She saved enough to get back home

When spring replaced the winter

But her dreams were denied

Her pa had died

The word come down from Spencer

So, she turned to whorin' out on the streets

With all the lust inside her

And it was many a man

Returned again

To lay himself beside her

They found her down beneath the stairs

That led to Gypsy Sally's

In her hand when she died

Was a note that cried

Fare thee well

Tecumseh valley

The name she gave was Caroline

Daughter of a miner

Her ways were free

It seemed to me

That sunshine walked beside her

(((- He only sang the first verse -)))

The lusty drunken voice of their father sang as he rolled and giggled in the yard just off the back porch. This at first seemingly sweet song was not a serenade that their mother wished to hear. Oh no! It infuriated her to no end. Throwing the broom at her drunken slob of a husband she stomped up the stairs of the porch and went into the kitchen. Moments later she pushed back out of the old screen door and it slammed shut behind her as she carried a stock-pot she had collected from the old gas stove.

The soup inside was still warm as she had been keeping it warm for his dinner whenever he deigned to come home and eat it. Well, she served him his dinner. The angry sprite of a woman that she was had had enough and that song was the last straw. She'd show him who was the broken spirited woman who'd turned to whorin with a broken heart.

Sputtering and cursing and laughing all at the same time, Duke finally let go of the now long empty bottle of rye whiskey and sat up, perhaps just a little more sobered than when he first arrived home.

"Caroline... Darlin! Is that any way to greet your lovin' husband?" He pleaded with a slur.

"Don't you darlin me! Out spending what money we have on drink and whorin around with who knows what. And then to have the nerve to come home to me and think I'm going to be all nice and loving to you. I don't think so!" She spat at him then turned and stormed back up the stairs to the back door.

"Baby... please! You know I wouldn't sleep with anyone but you..." He whined as he tried to scoop and scrape the soup off of his face.

"Oh, I know you didn't sleep with any of them whores! I'm sure you screwed as many as you could persuade though. You can sleep with the dog... on the back porch!" She said with venom before she let the screen door close then slammed the heavy oak door and locked it.

Deeny lay in her bed, fanning herself, Lee had already drifted back off to sleep. The noise outside had quieted of course, aside from a few muted curses muttered by her father. She could also hear, more clearly, the sound of sobbing coming from her mother's room down stairs.

Deeny felt badly for her mother, even if she didn't know everything that had gone on to bring her to this sorrowful night. She did know that her father liked to drink and would often stay out late doing so, and when he did come home there was the inevitable fight between him and her mother.

She knew her mother loved him dearly but something he was doing was hurting her terribly. Eventually even the quiet sobbing from her mother's room quieted and the night sounds were the only thing to be heard. The heat had brought all the bugs out but none so noisy as the cicadas. After a while though, even those couldn't keep her awake, Deeny slipped off to sleep.

***___***___

Tom was awakened by the crowing of the scraggly old red rooster the next morning. He groaned and rolled over pulling his damp pillow over his head. Another day on the farm. Another day of chores and sweating and being his father's whipping boy. In all of his seventeen years he had never seemed to have pleased his Pa. It was as if his Pa hated him for some reason. Tom always worked hard and tried his best but it never seemed to be good enough. His only solace was that in another two weeks he'd be turning eighteen years old. After his birthday he could legally walk away from the farm and make a different life for himself.

"Is that lazy assed boy up yet?" a gruff angry voice shouted from the porch.

Tom's Pa usually sat on the porch of the morning drinking his coffee. He'd yell through the ratty old screen door at his mother as she cooked his breakfast. Mom was a sweet woman at heart, but too timid to stand up to the old man. She treated him like a king and he treated her like just another head of cattle. She was his property to do with as he wished. Just like Tom was just property, not even worthy enough to be considered a hired hand. Tom didn't know why the old man hated him or acted like he did anyway.

Tom groaned again and rolled over and sat up on the edge of his cot. His bare feet on the rough oak floorboards as he ran his calloused hands over his face and through his hair. The smell of biscuits cooking downstairs made his stomach growl. He stood up and pulled his blankets up to at least halfway make his bed. Tom then reached for his worn and patched jeans hanging on -the chair next to his small study table.

After slipping into his jeans, he pulled on an equally worn cotton work shirt. One of the buttons was missing but since it was close to the top it didn't matter much. Besides, his white undershirt kept him reasonably covered. Slipping his feet into his extremely worn work boots, he bent to tie the laces. Once dressed, Tom left his bedroom to go down stairs to the kitchen.

Tom's mom, Annie, was hastily moving about the kitchen setting things on the table and fussing over food still cooking on the stove. He was about ask her if there was anything he could do to help when the screen door squeaked open and the backlit shadowy figure of his dad, JD stepped in from the porch. He carried his chipped coffee cup in one gnarled and calloused hand, and his battered old John Deer ball cap in the other. The permanent grimace on his face was accompanied by knitted brows and suspicious eyes. His only acknowledgement to Tom's presence was an almost silent grunt as JD took his seat at the head of the table. Tom stood stoically behind his own chair waiting until his mom had set the last of the food on the table and then took her own seat.

JD immediately reached for the bowl of biscuits but a stern reprimanding look from Annie halted his hand in mid reach. It may have been one of few things that she brooked no argument over and tolerated no exceptions, but grace was holy. No food would be consumed or even served until it had been blessed by saying grace. JD's grimace soured just a bit more but he held his tongue. Tom reached his left hand out to his mother and bowed his head as she spoke the blessing solemnly. When she said "Amen" they then waited until JD had his plate full before passing the rest of the food between themselves. They all ate in silence for the most part.

When JD had his fill, he grunted when he went to pick up his coffee cup. Annie stopped eating and got up to refill his coffee without comment. Tom glanced furtively between them, and shook his head ever so slightly but held his tongue. He hated that his mother got so little respect from the old man. It's all he had ever known though, even from his youngest years she never seemed happy, at least around her husband. It was never spoken about though, so Tom really didn't know the reason or reasons for it. It just was, and he felt sorry for his mom.

After breakfast, Tom knew he only had a short time to get his morning chores done before he caught the bus to school. Slopping the hogs, feeding the old mule, counting the cows and calves and making sure none have gotten out of the fence. That last was done at almost a run as the morning was slipping by quickly and he really didn't want to miss his bus. Not only would the old man be pissed, but he'd have to walk to school and hope someone would pick him up along the way. He had done that before, and it was a long walk.

***___***___

"Come on Deeny!" Lee whined in aggravation as her sister nudged her out from in front of the sink in the bathroom.

Lee was trying to tame her frizzled mass of blonde curls with a hair brush. The hot humid air last night and of course sleeping on it simply made her hair a mess. Deeny on the other hand was more interested in washing her face and brushing her teeth. The two fussed and argued nearly every day as they had to share the bathroom each morning. Deeny's hair was thicker than Lees, taking more after their father than their mother. Her hair was dark brown and pulled into a pony tail.

"I told you. You should have braided it last night before going to bed. Now scoot over so I can rinse my face. And hurry up! We're going to be late!" Deeny spoke around her toothbrush.

Finally, after struggling with her hair brush as long as she could, Lee picked up her favorite headband. The big tortoise shell hair piece had been given to her by her mother on her last birthday. Lee loved how it contrasted with her golden straw-colored hair, and that it tamed that curly mass somewhat and kept it out of her face, for the most part. She picked it up and held it by the open ends and slipped it over her face and along her scalp so that it rested on the crown of her head above and slightly behind her ears.

Turning her head this way and that looking in the little fogged mirror over the bathroom sink, Lee decided that this was as good as it was going to get today for her hair. She liked that the headband matched well with her solid brown skirt and the old brown shoes. She was wearing a new pair of bobby socks today. Her light blue linen blouse was a little big on her but then it was another hand me down from her big sister Deeny. At least it was a pretty blouse she thought. She smiled at Deeny, then just for spite she bumped her right hip into her sister's left hip as she was rinsing her mouth after spitting out the toothpaste, then she darted giggling out of the room and down the hall to the stairs and down.

Deeny entered the kitchen at double speed, mumbling about being late again. Her mother held up a biscuit with ham in it wrapped in a paper napkin in one hand and the car keys in the other hand. Deeny smiled at her and leaned in and gave her mom a peck on the cheek as she took the biscuit in one hand and the keys with her other. Lee was half standing at the kitchen table, a biscuit in one hand and a glass of milk that she was drinking in the other. Deeny turned to her and tossed her head towards the door to the back porch, meaning for Lee to follow her.

Lee grabbed her books after she sat the empty milk glass back on the table and followed Deeny out the door, telling her mother that she loved her even as she went through the door.

Outside on the porch, Deeny paused and turned to the left to look at the old glider bench.

Her father was laying on his back, his feet towards the door. One leg up and hanging over the end of the glider, the other hanging off the edge and his foot on the porch. His right forearm was draped over his eyes, his mouth was agape and he was snoring. The left hand, like the left leg was hanging off the edge of glider and resting on the boards of the porch floor. An empty liquor bottle was about a foot from his open hand.

Both girls just looked, Deeny with disgust and contempt, and Lee with sadness. Softly, so as not to wake their father, their mother Caroline spoke to the girls through the screen door that had closed behind them.

"Best be gittin along now girls. Let the sleeping dogs lie. You don't want to be late." She said with a bit of venom tinged with sadness. Despite all her anger and hurt, she did so very much love that drunken fool that was sleeping on the glider. God help her she thought.

The girls broke from their momentary trance and both bounded down the steps and across the yard to the old Chevy that was parked under the big oak tree. The 1953 four door Bel Air sedan had seen better days. Its light robin's egg blue paint was speckled with a few chipped and rust spots. The dark blue roof was fading slightly and showed signs of the beginnings of rust too. The full moon hubcaps were cloudy and the white wheels were yellowed with age or dirt, it was hard to tell which. But the tires were good, and it was reliable.

When Deeny climbed in and slid behind the wheel. She had put the key in and started the car before Lee could even slide into the passenger side and close her door. Deeny pressed the clutch with one foot and the brake with the other as she pulled the gear selector arm down to reverse. Looking over her shoulder and holding that oversized steering wheel by the bottom nearest herself, Deeny backed the old chevy out from under the tree and turned in the gravel driveway. Then turning back forward, she moved the selector into first and away they went with a throaty rumble and a small cloud of oily blue smoke and exhaust.

Caroline watched the old car and her girls drive off to start their day. Her heart ached for them knowing that they had a hard life ahead of them yet. So much to learn and so much to endure. A snuffling and grunt from the sleeping form of her husband asleep on the glider out on the porch brought that thought home very clearly indeed. She loved that man like he was the very air she breathed, but she hated him nearly as much.

Duke was just so damned charming when he was sober, charming and full of love and kindness. He worked hard and provided for her and her girls, well, mostly. If he didn't fall victim to his own weaknesses, she wouldn't have any complaints. But weaknesses seemed to rule his mind more than not. Alcohol, chief among them or course, he did like to drink. Of course, when he was drunk, the devil in him came out. He flirted, chased, wooed and sought after every woman around. The charmer and smooth talker had bedded untold numbers of women, married or not.

***___***___

Tom was trotting to the end of the drive way, his books tied with a leather belt dangling from one hand as his other hand tried to wipe sweat from his face. He could hear the wheezing growl of the ancient school bus approaching less than a half a mile away. Another five minutes doing chores and he would have missed the bus for sure.

The old bus braked to a halt at the end of the driveway with a screeching grind of metal on metal and a cloud of dust. When the door swung open Tom stepped aboard and climbed the two steps up and turned to look for a seat. He found one on the driver's side about halfway back. The seat was empty so he scooted over to sit next to the window so he could watch the world go by as the bus carted him off to school.

Tom truly liked school, if for no other reason than it got him away from the farm for a part of most days of the week. Away from the farm and away from JD. Tom smiled recalling that it wouldn't be too much longer before his birthday and he could leave home for good. He frowned as he thought of leaving his mom behind to deal with that bastard on her own. Somehow, she had managed his entire life though.

His thoughts also turned to leaving behind what few friends he had at school. Of course, most of them would be heading out into the world on their own as well. Some would get married and start families right away, some still had to find the right person. Some, like himself still had to find anyone at all. With a deep sigh Tom leaned his head against the window staring blankly out at the passing scenery.

It was passing scenery that caught his attention moments later. In a straight away, the slow-moving bus was passed by several trucks and cars. The last in line was an older light blue Chevy with a dark blue top. There, with one arm sticking out the open passenger side window, her hand gliding on the passing wind, sat a vision.

A cute little blonde-haired girl that he had seen at school. He never shared any classes with her that he could remember but he had seen her around school going from class to class. She was a vision as far as he was concerned. That mass of curly blond hair and those big blue eyes just held his attention whenever he saw them. Not that she noticed him. There was always some jock trying to get her attention.

Tom could have matched any of the guys on the football or basketball team if he had tried to play on any team. But the old man made certain that there would be no extracurricular endeavors for Tom. When he wasn't in class, he was to be at home working on the farm. No sports, no clubs, not any kind of normal social life. This was his senior year of high school and Tom had only been to one dance that entire time. That was less than exciting, with no date, he didn't even try to ask any girls to dance. Hell, he didn't even know how to dance in the first place.