NO WAY TO TREAT A "LADY"

Thinking about the chocolate ice cream, and my mind went spiraling back, sucked in like a vortex, a segue of horrors simply too painful, too frightening to put into mere words.

"What?" he quietly interrupted my thought.

"The chocolate ice cream. Used as a tool against me, a tool to hurt me, a tool for lies. I still don't eat chocolate ice cream. Too many things wrong with it."

"Can you talk about it?"

Could I? I could feel my hands clutching the arms of the chair, but I just couldn't let go. Would these memories ever go away?

Aunt Doris was on the phone, laughing, whispering and giggling. She had such a sly smile on her face, so I knew she wasn't talking to Uncle Harold. She always talked to him like he was stupid, and beneath her. But her friends, well that was a different thing. And this had to be a man. The same man she had been talking to for days now. Just then she looked up and saw me standing there.

"Oh, hell!" she exclaimed. "Little miss ears is standing here, and I don't know what she's heard. She paused in her talking, obviously listening to the man on the other end.  "All right, that's a good idea," she said.

Covering the phone with her hand, she called me into the living room. "Come here, Linda. Someone wants to say 'hello' to you."

Really? I got to talk on the phone? As she handed the phone off to me, I held my breath. I never got to talk on the phone. This was wonderful!

"Hello, Linda," the sikly voice said on the other side. "This is Bud, one of your mother's friends. I have been by the house a few times - do you remember me?"

"No."

Laughing, "No? Well, we will have to fix that! How about if I drive over and take you and your mother for a ride in my car? And I will buy you a chocolate ice cream. How does that sound?"

"Good."

"But remember it's our little secret. If anybody finds out, we won't be able to get the ice cream. Okay?"

"Yes. Our secret."

"Great. I'll see you today or tomorrow. Bye sweetheart; put you mother back on."

Of course, there never was a ride. He did come by, but my mother chased me out of the house for the afternoon so they could be alone. Eventually, she left her husband Harold to go live with Bud, taking Virginia and me with her.

Bud was a small time hood, a gangster. He was a drunk and a racist. He carried a gun, pulled robberies and who knew what other things. Their "dream" hideaway was a modified corn crib in the middle of a corn field. He was an evil man with a terrible temper; drinking heavily he would beat on Aunt Dora, Virginia and me. 

One day I was out in the stubble of the corn field, when a beautiful black and white dog came wandering up to me. She was wagging her tail. I sat down on the ground, and she sat down next to me, nuzzling my hands and licking my face. She was so beautiful, and I loved her immediately.

"What's your name?" I asked her. She smiled at me, perked her ears and swished her tail harder. I will call you "Lady", I decided. Her eyes shone with happiness, and she nuzzled my ear.

From that day on I couldn't wait to find Lady; she was my playmate, my chum. Virginia joined in with our games of throwing the stick, too.  We didn't have much to eat, but I managed to hold back a few scraps to give Lady. One day I saw a farmer out in his field, and he called over, "I see you have made friends with my dog!"  His dog? I thought she was my dog. He must have seen the dismay on my face, for he was quick to add, "Don't worry, she's a good girl, with lots of love for everybody. She'll take good care of you, and we can share her."

Relief flooded over me.  "Okay. Thank you!"

The farmer waved good-by, and went on his way. 

Autumn turned into winter, and deep snows came to Michigan. Lady grew fat! But she still came to visit me every day. I wondered how she was getting so fat, until I heard Aunt Doris tell Virginia that Lady was going to be a mama. Oh! I clapped my hands in joy. What an exciting time that was. Now we would have Lady and her puppies.

Lady and I talked about it every day. "Just you wait," I told her. "We will pick out good names for them all. And we will be very happy."  She swished her tail and nudged me.

One night, after Bud had locked us in our dark room, I heard crying. Lots of crying. "It sounds like Lady's crying?" I shook Virginia. 

She pushed my hand away. "I'm already awake," she whispered. "That's not Lady, that's her puppies. And Bud is really mad."

"I wish we could go help."

"Yeah, I know. But we can't do anything until Bud unlocks our door."

Then I heard other frightening noises. Things being thrown around, Aunt Doris crying out, and the puppies crying louder. Bud was roaring and cursing. Aunt Doris was crying. Then I heard Bud stamping across the small area to the door, and slamming it on his way out. Aunt Doris, sobbing ran across the room, and I heard her throw herself on her bed. All was quiet. But I didn't sleep. I was worried about the puppies - had he taken them outside, and left them? They would freeze. I couldn't wait for morning.

When Bud finally let us out in the morning, he snarled at us. "I want you playing where I can see you. No more wandering around this farm. And especially stay away from the wood shed. If you go anywhere near there, I will beat you until you are dead!!"

Virginia said to me, once we were outside, "He's hiding something. I bet he put Lady and the puppies in a cage back there [behind the shed]. We have to go back there and see. Maybe we can help them."  I agreed. So we did a big circle around the field and house, and snuck our way to the backside of the shed. What I saw dropped me to my knees.

I knew better than to cry out loud, so I threw myself across Lady. I picked up her head and tried to put it back on her body. I had to fix her, I had too! This couldn't be happening, not to my Lady. No! No! No! No! No! No! In agony, I looked at the six little headless puppies, as they lay in a heap beside her. Their heads were gone. I felt panic coming on - where did their heads go? I could feel myself cracking into lots of pieces. All I could do was rock Lady and cry. 

Virginia was furious! "Look! Here's the axe he used." It was leaning against the wall. "I am going to kill him for this." She yelled, grabbing the axe in both hands she started across the field towards the crib. Immediately, my terror shifted from Lady to Virginia, because I knew for certain she would not be able to kill Bud, but that in fact he would kill her - then all of us.

I stumbled to my feet and chased after her, "No, don't!" I cried. "He will kill you. You can't kill him."  But she wouldn't listen. I couldn't stop her and I didn't know how. My fear was maxed out, and I wet myself.

"Please, Ginger, please." Wailing, I somehow managed to reach her and pulled on her arm. "What would I do without you? Stop. You can't, you can't! He'll kill you, I know he will. You know it! Come on ~ let's take care of Lady."

We stood there in the quiet, gray day. Neither of us could say anymore. At last she nodded, and turned with me to go back to the shed.

"What happened then?"

"We buried them all together in an old burlap bag we found and covered them with lots and lots of snow. The ground was too hard to dig, so that was the best we could do."

"You aren't even crying, as you talk about this. In fact you don't cry about any of the stories you are relating to me. Which means you have told them so often they mean nothing to you (which I don't believe), or that you buried the pain so deep that you can't cry. It's okay to cry."

"I don't cry."

He nodded. 

"Bud went to prison some time later for killing a man in a hold up. In prison he got into a fight with another inmate, and Bud was stabbed to death."

"What did you think when you heard about that?"

"Good."

Lamentations 2:19. Arise, cry out in the night, as the watches of the night begin; pour out your heart like water in the presence of the Lord. Lift up your hands to him for the lives of your children, who faint from hunger at the head of every street.

Luke 7:32. They are like children sitting in the marketplace and calling out to each other: " 'We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not cry.'