The summer months had flown by, and school was starting soon. Gus had called and said he would come to get me for my birthday. I was excited but knew an upcoming visit from him meant Mama would be in a foul mood until he arrived and give me the cold shoulder for long after he brought me back home and drove away.
“He should be ashamed to show his face around here,” Mama snarked. She’d long forgotten she once loved my father. All I had to do was say his name to bring out nastiness unusual even for her. She resented his coming and going from our lives. Using “daddy” or “father” to describe him was a hard no-no in our house.
“He treated me worse than a foamy-mouthed rabid dog deserves,” she went on.
I didn’t remember Gus doing anything Mama said he had done. So, I never believed her. He never beat Ruth Ann or me. He never showed outward affection toward us and insisted we call him Gus. I just assumed it was his way of treating us like grown-ups.
I knew he wanted to love me, but he didn’t know how. I accepted him the way he was and tried to love him anyway.
He told me once that I reminded him of Mama. He never explained whether that was good or bad. It didn’t matter. I always hoped he was a better man than the one Mama described and looked forward to the day he returned home.
“Gus’ll never change. If he stopped coming around, we’d all be better off,” Ruth Ann said. She’d long given up on him and shared Mama’s disdain for him.
I threw a dictionary at her but missed my target. She threw it back, and it hit me square in the forehead. When Mama found out why we were fighting, she made me apologize and sent me to the back porch to stew.
“Your daddy’s not worth fighting your sister over,” she said as I walked outside, and the flimsy screen door slammed in unison with her voice.
I stayed mad at both of them for a week, right up to my fifteenth birthday, the day of Gus’s arrival. I looked forward to his visit. I desperately wanted to see him and couldn’t remember the last time he’d bought me anything.
Leading up to his arrival, Mama made like she was busy, walking and complaining from room to room.
“Jo, you’re just ungrateful,” she rattled on. “Acting so happy to see a man who wouldn’t do right even if the good Lord promised him heaven.”
I’d already heard everything she said that day at least six times.
“One time, he bumped a man with his truck because he’s evil,” I whispered her exact words to myself as Mama said them. It didn’t take much effort to memorize words you could feel.
“I’ll see you later, Mama.”
Five minutes in the Texas sun felt like an eternity in hell. Waiting outside provided relief from Mama’s incessant grumbling, even if it meant sweltering in heat that melted tar. It was worth it. Besides, Gus couldn’t come inside or knock on the door anyway.
I was relieved when I saw his black Ford pickup turn toward our house. Mama predicted he wouldn’t show up, and I was in no mood for an “I told you so.” Despite being happy to see Gus, the day was dulled with disappointment when I saw Earline and Precious, my eleven and thirteen-year-old half-sisters, sitting in the cab beside him.
“Hi, Gus,” I forced out the words and a smile as I squeezed onto the bucket seat.
“Aren’t you going to speak to your sisters?” Gus asked and threw the truck into gear and drove away.
“Hey,” I said without looking at Earline and Precious. I knew the day would be different from the one I’d imagined.
I’d spent the entire week before combing the Montgomery Ward catalog and had already decided exactly what I wanted. When we got to the store, I went straight to the shoe department and found the black and white saddle shoes. Just to be sure, I browsed all of the shelves to prove I’d made the right decision. Saddle shoes were what all the girls would be wearing on the first day of school.
“Do you have these in size eight?” I asked the sales clerk. She nodded and turned toward the stockroom to retrieve the shoes. Earline and Precious copied me and asked the saleslady to bring the same shoes in their sizes.
“Wait a minute,” Gus said as he wrestled the display shoe from my hand and checked the price tag.
“You’re going to have to pick something else. These cost too much.”
“But these are what I want for my birthday.”
“Let your sisters get these. They’re younger. You can find something else.”
He told the sales clerk to bring the saddle shoes in Earline’s and Precious’ sizes.
That moment cut like the cruel hunger pains that often gnawed my stomach. Mama was right.
While Earline and Precious tried on my shoes, I cursed Gus inwardly as I wandered the aisles, looking for a pair that would be better than having nothing.
I couldn’t decide fast enough, and Gus got impatient. He snatched a pair of moccasins off the shelf and handed them to the sales clerk.
“Just give us these in size eight.”
I stared at the flimsy brown shoes in horror but remained silent. He had never hit me, but admittedly, I had a slight fear of him since Mama had warned me he was capable of it, and the last thing I wanted was more embarrassment. Earline and Precious snickered when I tried the moccasins on.
I was relieved when we left the store, and Gus said he had to take me home. I wanted to get away from all of them as quickly as possible. I focused on the street ahead as Earline and Precious chirped away, wedged between Gus and me.
When he pulled up to the house, I jumped out of the truck before it came to a complete stop. I didn’t say bye, and I didn’t look back. I was blinded by tears as I ran as fast as I could toward the front door. I tripped over the door frame and tumbled, trying to get away from the hurt. Mama heard the commotion and came running from the kitchen.
“He bought them saddle shoes and got me these!” I held the pathetic slipper-like shoes in the air like a trophy for her to see.
“And you were in such a hurry to jump in that truck. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
Mama grabbed the shoes from me with one swoop and stomped into the kitchen.
I watched in horror as she pulled a large butcher knife from the drawer, speared one of the shoes, and sliced the brown fabric in half the same way she gutted catfish. She went outside and threw both halves and its match into the metal drum we used to burn garbage.
“You’ll go barefoot before I let you wear that devil’s trash.”
I stood there thinking about my only pair of shoes, which were riddled with holes. Mama didn’t and wouldn’t have money to buy me new ones before school started.
“What did we do to deserve such a pitiful life?” I asked Ruth Ann that night as I lay in bed crying, not expecting an answer. “All the praying in the world, Mama can barely do anything for us. Gus won’t do anything. What’s God doing?”
“You better shut up before she hears you.” Ruth Ann turned over onto her side, back toward me. We’d been taught it was a sin to question God, and Ruth Ann had no desire to play a role in my infidelity.
“You need to stop fantasizing that Gus is any more than what Mama says he is. It only makes matters worse,” she said and pulled the sheet over her head.
Three weeks after Gus dropped me off, my first day of ninth grade arrived. Mama had managed to buy brown shoe polish. It wasn’t enough to make last year’s shoes look new, but they were all I had. I rearranged the bits of cardboard I’d used to cover the holes in the soles and tried them on with the dress Mama had made from bargain bin fabric. I studied myself in the mirror. I thought about the upcoming days when I’d have no lunch or lunch money. School days felt endless when you began them hungry and remained that way until the last bell rang. The thought of relying on Margie to keep my insides from gurgling underneath shoddy clothes and raggedy shoes chilled my skin.
When I left the house for school that morning, I decided not to stop to pick up Margie and bypassed Our Mother of Mercy. I walked until I got tired and ended up in front of Ferguson’s Barbecue & Tavern. I watched as Mr. Ferguson wiped down plastic menus, placed them between napkin holders, and arranged bottled barbecue sauces on the tables. My mouth watered as the sweet, smoky fragrance of charred meat permeated the outside air. I wished I could go inside and place an order for hot links and coleslaw.
As I turned to leave, I noticed a handwritten help-wanted sign inside the window.
“I’m here about the job.” I’d never decided anything so quickly before in my life.
“You ever waited tables?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Shouldn’t you be in school?” Mr. Ferguson didn’t wait for me to answer his question as he widened the door for me to enter, so I never did.
I worked the lunch and early dinner shifts that day. Before I left, I packaged up enough pulled pork and baked beans to last a week. I went home wearing a lime green dress with Ferguson’s embroidered just to the left of my heart that fit me perfectly. I had fifteen dollars in tips in my book satchel and a new outlook in my pocket.
Eulonda Writes 