Stories-TWO: Divorce and “Dear John” letters.

It was a sunny day in Hammond, Louisiana and my cousin Judy and her family stayed with us temporarily.  Judy was 10 months my senior and always seemed to be much more mature than I was, even when we were both in the first grade.  We sat on the warm concrete in front of my moms’ infamous avocado green pick up.  We were playing house or rather divorce…and we each had a line of baby dolls to care for and each had husbands that were away from home.  I guess for lack of imagination my husband was her step dad Sam and her husband was my step dad Mac, why we couldn’t go for celebrities I don’t know,  but she really got the better end of the deal.  Mac was a loving and funny man and Sam was a real mean abusive type.  I guess we were fed up from the men being gone that we wrote letters to our husbands, both similar in text:  Dear Mac/Sam, we are leaving you and taking the kids.  You never help out.  Your wife, Judy/Liz.  Even at 6 and 7 years old we had been touched by life.  We were innocent in body, but not necessarily in spirit.  We understood the grounds for divorce (as per learned behavior) and that you take the kids and leave.

I loved Judy with all of my heart.  I was quiet and shy and she was full of life and entertainment.  I had a much older sister and she had 2 sisters and a brother closer to our age.  During their stay there wasn’t much trouble we didn’t find.  We had powwows in the bedroom and would devise plans and decide who would be the executioner of those plans.  It was 5 kids against 2 moms.  The moms were severely outnumbered.  We walked the train tracks and stole sweets from the kitchen, rode bikes at neck breaking speeds, and put on fancy shows.  I was more the commentator and she was the actress, the Mae West of the ensemble, if you will.  She ‘put on’ and out shined and I got out of the way, I marveled at the way she worked a room…even if the room was full of family.

During Judys’ stay I obtained the beating of my life. During one of our many powwows, Judy, Ima and I decided to clean out one of the dresser drawers while left to our own resources one afternoon.  We cleaned it, literally, by dragging it outside and took a hose and bottle of soap to it.  When the rest of the family got returned home, my Mom was super hot and since the other kids just got talked to…I knew all the heat was on me.  I left the house, snuck down the street and hid behind a car at my friend’s house.  My Mom arrived soon after inquiring as to whether I was there and I watched her come and go down the street and around the corner.  Later I slid out from behind of the car and made my way back down to my own street.  Not sure as whether to go home or just to lay low, my Aunt Donna, Judys’ mom, spotted me.  She said, “Come home, come home Liz nothing is going to happen.”  After refusing for a while, I made my way home with Aunt Donna.  When my Mom found out that I was hiding and had seen her come and go, my mom lost her cool and I mean LOST it.  I was beat with a belt, an Avon brush, and I don’t even know what else.  I screamed and cried and hated my mother and Donna too.  I learned never to trust an adult to talk you into anything…anything at all.  The night was uncomfortable with it being warm and my skin welted and tender. Judy snuck into my room and offered me words of comfort and compassion.  We spent many nights falling asleep talking to one another, sharing our lives and dreams as bosom buddies and cousins.