Friday, August 26, 2011

Passengers...A RWN Tag story


Leticia Mae Campbell tried hard not to fidget in her seat as she left the backwater town in the Bible belt behind her.  She knew the lie she’d told her mama would hold up; she’d made sure of it, but beneath that knowledge was fear.  ‘The further away I get, the better I’ll feel. Mama’s reach is long, but not this long.’   Still, she couldn’t stop looking behind her; and would probably continue to do so all the way to Wisconsin.
She swore she could still hear her Mama screeching her name: “Lettie Mae! You get over here!” Tisha shook her head to clear it. ‘I’m leaving “Lettie Mae” behind, too. I got rid of my accent, I speak proper English, and I go by Tisha now.  “Lettie Mae” can just stay here and rot!
Her town was so small and rural, that she had to go one town over just to find a bus station. ‘Everybody knows everybody’s business, and those church ladies do love to tell tales. But I was careful. No one knows the truth.’
She twisted the silver rings she always wore on her fingers; a gift from her late father, the town’s preacher.

Daddy.’ She’d almost said it out loud. The man was the only bright spot in her life, and she missed him more than anything. When she lost him, she felt like someone had taken a giant knife and carved away a part of her. ‘I was so wrong, Daddy. I should’ve known better. I should’ve been there for you.

When Tisha was 13 years old, she came home from school one day to find her mother waiting. Her hair was a mess, and she was still in her nightgown. ‘I knew something was wrong; Mama never let herself be seen like that. I had no idea just how wrong things were.’

“Lettie Mae, your no-good daddy done went an’ kilt himself. Left me a note sayin’ he was seein’ a lady from the church, and he couldn’t take the guilt no more. Now what’s done is done, an’ you gotta be a big girl now, Lettie Mae.  Yo’ daddy has some things to straighten out with God, but right now, we need to take care of ourselves.  We need to move his body, Lettie. We need to make it look like an accident.”

Tisha didn’t move, waiting for her Daddy to come in the room; say it was all a big mistake.

“If the insurance people find out what he did, there won’t be no money for us to live on. You don’t wanna be poor now, do you? Have the church bringing us food and clothes at some shelter? Your rotten daddy didn’t care what happened to us, but Mama will take care of us. I got a plan, Lettie Mae. You come with me now.”

Tisha stood there, numb.

“You hear me, girl? You gonna help me clean up yo’ daddy’s mess, and yo’ gonna keep your mouth shut about it.  Look at me when I’m talkin’ to you, Lettie Mae!  Yo’ gonna help me, because if you don’t I’ll tell everybody that yo’ daddy grounded you, and you got mad and pushed him down the steps. An’ everybody will believe me, the fine, upstanding preacher’s wife, not the spoilt little brat who killed her daddy. Now what’ you think about that?”

Tisha couldn’t speak; but she did look up at her mother. ‘She’s not even sad. She’s all messed up from trying to move him herself, and she’s not even sad that he’s gone and she wants to blame me. And everybody will believe her.

“You come with me now. Here’s what we gonna do. We gonna say he tripped on the cellar steps and got tangled in the clothes line down there. Gotta explain those rope marks on his worthless neck. Now come on!”

Still in shock, Tisha followed. She helped her mother move her daddy’s cold body to the cellar so it would look like an accident. Watched her mother wrap the clothesline around her daddy’s neck while she said, “It was a terrible accident, Lettie Mae. You hear me? A terrible accident.”  The memory of the rope burns on her daddy’s neck would haunt her forever.

They’re the reason that, once she was grown, she figured out that Daddy really didn’t kill himself; the marks were wrong. They were straight, not angled like someone who’d been hung.  ‘Mama killed him; or had him killed.  And if Mama finds out I know, she’ll frame me, or kill me.

All the things I saw back then, they all made sense once I figured it out. Mama giving that strange man an envelope filled with money in our kitchen a month after Daddy’s funeral. Mama burning a bundle of something in the backyard. Mama telling me I was not to answer the phone or the door, but to get her. She wasn’t strong enough to strangle Daddy, but the man in the kitchen that day was.

My guess is that she didn’t realize the insurance wouldn’t pay out for a suicide. By the time she did, the big man did what he was paid to do, and had left to go wait for his payoff.

And showed up for it a month later. I ducked around the doorway when I saw Mama whisper in his ear and check to make sure I wasn’t listening. I don’t know if I was quick enough, but she never said a word about it. She shooed him right out the back door, and I never saw him again. I was too little, too ripped up inside to work it out then, but Mama never looked at me the same after that.’

“You got yo’ Daddy’s eyes, Lettie Mae. The devil’s in those eyes. You better hope you don’t end up just like him.”

‘She was always looking at me, not like a mama should, but like a hawk watches a mouse. I loved having the same amber eyes that Daddy had, but Mama thought it was certain damnation. Always looking at my eyes for traces of my Daddy, and into my heart to see if I’d figured her out.

And my rings. She hated my silver rings, but she never, ever tried to touch them. Good thing, too, because I would’ve died to keep them.

She held onto that insurance money tighter than a lid on new jar of jam.’

“It’s for us to live on, Lettie Mae. We can’t go squandering it. This money will send you to Bible College so you can be a teacher and find a nice preacher to marry you.”

I never knew how much there was, but it must’ve been quite a lot. She sure didn’t mind sharing it with that man in the kitchen.

Tisha took a deep breath and tried to calm down. ‘No one is looking for me. Mama doesn’t suspect a thing. I’ve been doing this for years, and it’s been working all this time. It’s wearing me down, but it’s working. No reason why it won’t continue to work. Besides, on the other side of the country, I’ll be able to walk down any street and not worry about who might see me and report back to Mama.’

She saw a man get on the bus and take a seat a little behind and across from her. He made eye contact as he passed, offering a friendly smile and nod before continuing to his seat.  Something about him drew Tisha’s eyes, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. ‘Other than the fact that he’s fine fine fine and smells good enough to eat, there’s nothing special about him. Come on, Tisha. You can’t be jumping every time someone walks by. You’re too close to freedom to go all paranoid now.’ she told herself. ‘I’m just tired; that’s all.

Tisha knew she had the perfect opportunity to catch up on her sleep during the long trip, but she was way too nervous to even think about it. She did close her eyes, to calm herself.  ‘Taking classes at two different colleges was a crazy idea, but I did it; I’m still doing it. Making my own future, just like Daddy always told me to do. And Mama got my grades from Dr.King’s Bible College, just like she’ll get my grades from Wisconsin State. What she didn’t see was my grades from Alabama State, and she’ll never now about the ones from the Wisconsin school of Veterinary and Animal Health Technology. At least this time I won’t have to work myself to the bone to pay for it, too.

Tisha earned a full scholarship to the Veterinary College. Her waitressing days were behind her. She now held a teaching degree from Dr.King, so if she needed to work, she could take an evening job teaching Bible class to children or remedial reading in a help center part time.  She talked her Mama into believing she was going to Wisconsin State to get certified for Special Education, which wasn’t a lie. She just left out the part about being a vet, too.

Thank God for correspondence courses. I’d never be able to pull this off otherwise.’

She was so tempted to drop the double life once she set foot in Wisconsin, but was driven to continue by the same fire that got her this far.  ‘Got to keep it up just a little longer; let her get used to the idea of me being far from home and keeping my mouth shut about what I know.  If I quit now, she’ll suspect I’m going to do something about it. She’ll pay someone with her insurance money and have them track me down and kill me like she killed Daddy.  Once I’m licensed, I can support myself; go anywhere and she’ll have no way to find me.’ She hoped her daddy would be proud to know she was going to be a vet.


Before she was born, her Daddy was sent by the church to do mission work in South America. Being a preacher, he didn’t fritter away money that could be given to the mission on souvenirs, but he did bring back a statue of a wolf, filled with carved tribal symbols. As soon as she was old enough to understand what it was, Daddy showed it to her.  The day she first put her hand on it, feeling the deep etchings as her daddy told her stories about his time in the jungle, she fell in love with it.  He told her how he was gifted with it in the remote village he stayed at. ‘Said they had a special ceremony for him and everything.

“Danza por Lobos.” The Dance of the Wolves. They considered their village like a pack, all brothers and sisters who look out and take care of each other. And to honor daddy for helping them plant crops and teaching them about the One True God, they wanted to welcome him into the pack. Daddy’s eyes would glow when he told me, but before he could get too far, Mama would make him stop ‘filling my head with heathen nonsense that would damn us both to hell.’

He’d wink at me and whisper, “You’re a good girl, Lettie, don’t you ever doubt it. I’ll finish the story when you’re older.” But he never got the chance.

Tisha patted her large carry on bag, feeling the tiny statue safe and sound inside through the soft suede. ‘I don’t know what made me think of it, but thank God I did.  Mama didn’t even wait until he was in the ground to try and get rid of it. But I knew. I knew to look deep in the big trash can out back. Daddy loved it so much, and she wouldn’t let him display it anywhere. He had to keep it locked away and only brought it out from time to time to show me; try to tell me his stories. Lord how they fought about that.’

“You never been the same once you got back from that God-forsaken jungle! I won’t have you tellin’ our child them stories! You should see the look on your face when you start up – just like you look when you’re preachin’, except here you’re spreading the devil’s words instead of the Lord’s. What would your flock think if they heard that? You done lost yo’marriage over it already!”

“You don’t understand, God opened my mind to all his creations, to all the possibilities in this world He created! Those people taught me just as much; maybe more than I taught them! Being there showed me what it’s like to feel God’s hand, to be one with His world; with all of nature!  Lettie needs to know about –“

“Lettie don’t need to know nothin’ about those heathen sinners! How she gonna grow up to be a school teacher; a preacher’s wife, if her head’s filled with your poison? I won’t have it in my home; I will not!”

As always, her mama had the final word, but her daddy would try to find a few precious moments when Mama wasn’t there to let Tisha hold the tiny carved wolf while he told her about his time with the mission. He spoke about God’s love for all creatures, and what God’s world was like for the animals that lived without sin or temptation.

“They’re free, Lettie. Just as free as can be. Their hearts, their minds, free of worry and doubt. They feel God’s wind on their faces when they run just as fast as they can, and know true freedom.”

That’s when I knew I wanted to be a vet; to help God’s creatures who couldn’t help themselves. He always said there was one final story to tell, but it was a special gift for when I was older.
As her thoughts drifted, wrapping her in the invisible arms of her father’s memory, she finally let herself relax. ‘Oh, Daddy. I wish I could’ve gotten your last gift; that last story that you held onto so tight for me.’  She knew her daddy had friends from that time; not because daddy said so, but because mama fussed at him whenever one would call, or God forbid, stop over. ‘Would they know the story? What I wouldn’t give to find one of them now, ask about the man who existed before he became my daddy. 

Maybe now without Mama around, I can try and track them down.

Tisha smiled at that.  She didn’t have to go to the library anymore for internet access; she saved up enough money to get herself a fancy new laptop. She decided to get it there in Wisconsin instead of beforehand, so there’d be no chance Mama would find it.

With a slight lurch, the bus was finally on its way.  Tisha had the sudden urge to look out the enormous back window of the bus and watch her rat hole of a town fade into nothing. When she peeked over the back of her seat, all thoughts of the next step in her life left her as she met his eyes. His grin carried a whisper of amusement, not enough to laugh, or even show teeth, but his gaze was firm. She felt a blush creep up from her toes to her nose, but found she couldn’t look away.

No time for this, Tisha. Going to one college, taking courses at another, and working a job in between sleeping and homework leaves no time for that kind of thing. But damn, he’s fine.
With a reserve of strength she didn’t know she had, she made herself turn around and sit back down in her seat.  Self-conscious now, she straightened the beret on her head. ’This is going to be a long ride.

Did he look at me because I turned around, or was he already looking at me when I caught him? He didn’t look guilty; he looked like he knew a private joke and it was all about me.’  Tisha went back to her favorite nervous habit. She twisted the silver rings on her fingers, never removing them, because daddy told her to never take them off, but spinning them around and around.

The act brought her thoughts back to her father.  ‘I remember Daddy put these on my fingers himself on my 13th birthday; the last one he saw.’

 “Lettie, never take these off.  There’ll come a day when you can, and I’ll tell you when, but for now, these should never leave your hand. Promise your daddy, now.” 

And I promised. The plain silver bands looked so elegant to me; I’d never had anything so fine, because pride was a sin, so I was pleased as punch to make that promise.

She put her hand to her throat to feel the fine silver chain she wore there. In the years that followed her father’s murder, she got an anonymous gift every year on her birthday. ‘Always arriving when Mama was out. Always silver. The chain, the earrings, the bracelets…’ She wiggled her toes in her worn black boots, feeling the toe rings she’d gotten when she turned 18.

That was the last gift, and she knew it was crazy, but she thought somehow, her daddy had sent them. Not himself; that would be crazy. But that he’d left them with someone and asked that they send them every year until she was grown. ‘That would mean he knew what Mama was planning.

That would also mean he had someone looking after me all this time.

They had to be watching, to know when Mama was out.  ‘Now that I’m away from Mama, will they talk to me? Tell me Daddy’s last story? Are they watching me now?’

She couldn’t wear the things that came after Daddy’s death in front of Mama. She went from being the preacher’s wife to the preacher’s widow, and carried all the righteousness she could hold, and then some. No prideful jewelry would be tolerated, and that would be the quickest way to lose it. ‘Plus, I’d have to explain where it came from, and that was one secret she’d never get out of me.

Mama was a force to be reckoned with. She held tight to the purse strings that sent Tisha to Dr.King’s Bible College, and even though she was grown, Tisha had to walk that line to earn her freedom. A permanent freedom. Mama was smart, and she’d soon catch on that Tisha had put it all together. And once Mama suspected that Tisha learned the truth about her daddy’s death, she’d either frame her for the murder, or easily kill again to keep her fine standing in the community.

Or have someone do it for her.

So Tisha kept to the plan, wearing herself down to the bone to carry two caseloads and work to earn one of her tuitions. She was smart, too. She’d slave away in Wisconsin until she got her license to practice, then she’d make her break.

A perfect plan. Too perfect?’ Again, the paranoia snuck into her bones, chilling her through. ‘There’s no way Mama could know. No way. She’d never let me get on this bus if she knew. Unless…unless the next “accident” was planned away from home. Then she’d have the perfect alibi, wouldn’t she?’  Her thoughts flew to the man behind her.

He looked at me like he knows me. Smiled and nodded at me. Sat himself in the one seat he’d have a clear line of sight to me, but I wouldn’t be able to see him.

Fishing a pen out of her bag, she dropped it on the floor. She bent down to get it, sneaking a glance at Mr. Hotness. There he was, looking right at her. She bolted upright so fast; the beret flew from her head into the aisle.

Stop it. He’s only looking at you because you did something to make him look. Stop it right now and pull yourself together.’ In the time it took to give herself that pep talk, an older woman on the other side of the aisle leaned over and picked her hat up, holding it out to Tisha.

“Thank you.” Tisha said, trying to smile and look like she wasn’t having a complete breakdown.

She’d thought it would be him. She thought he’d be the one to bring her hat back to her. She couldn’t decide if she was disappointed or relieved.

She put her hand inside her bag, and wrapped it around the tiny wolf. Holding it always made her feel better. She took a deep breath as her fingers traced the symbols carved into it.

All she knew was that she needed to get herself together. She was on the bus that would deliver her from evil, and with every mile she put between herself and her mama, the better she felt.

4 comments:

  1. This is sort of like another story that I have written. The mean mother and the father's death, but I like the way you have done it so much better!

    It is so sad that her father was murdered because of her mother.

    I wonder who has been sending her the jewelry.

    The way that her father's eyes glowed makes me wonder if he was changed somehow.

    Who was the strange man on the bus.

    I can't wait to find out!

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  2. I'm glad you liked it!

    There was definitely something different with her father - good catch! You'll get to find out what that is, and who the man on the bus is very soon.

    Thanks for reading!

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  3. Whoa...it stopped? Ok I know it wasn't supposed to be long but why do you keep doing this to me?!?! WHY!? WHAT HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE THIS???????

    This was so intriguing and full of mystery! I love, love, LOVE it! I can't believe what her mother did! I can only hope the man on the bus is the one her father had watching over her! I don't want to believe that her mother has that much power.

    I love what you did with the jewelry and it makes me wonder since her dad told her not to take them off if they hold some sort of power or something that will ward off evil. I am curious to know about that statue as well.

    I hope it goes well for Tisha! She deserves that peace of mind and a life away from the torturous hand of her murderous mother!

    Great job Jilly :D I sit in breathless anticipation!

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  4. Okay, this was amazing! great story! feel free to check out my blog, also :)

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