There is an ancient belief that the Mute Swan is completely mute during its lifetime until the moment just before it dies, and then it sings one achingly beautiful song… The Swan Song.
Now, this is not a true belief, although it has made for captivating stories. Aesop, Shakespeare, Tennyson each found the myth to be story-worthy. Even as Socrates was being put to death, referenced the legend of the swan’s song. In actuality, the Mute Swan hisses and honks, it just does not call or bugle like other swans.
This may be my swan song. I am flying out on Monday, January 3rd, for the west coast. I will be heading to Ft. Lewis, Washington and Coronado, California. For those of you who have known me a long time, you will recollect that I have never been anywhere by myself. Even before the diagnosis, Big Daddy has made sure that I do not travel alone. In fact, for those of you who are most familiar with me, you know that I am not even allowed downtown past the Herald-Misleader building. (That is where we begin one-way streets and I am easily lost with a homing device embedded that draws me like a magnet to the more “seedier” parts of any town.) Actually, I have become quite turned around in my own neighborhood, so it is not without tremendous concern that my family is watching me pack.
Of course, we lived in Europe for three years and I did manage to make it back from there, having never taken a German, French, or Austrian speaking lesson in my life prior to our arrival. Of course, I had escorts there and we walked most places outside of weekend getaways that Big Daddy chauffeured. There was the time in Paris, France, when I was so convinced that total-strangers-but-older-than-us-therefore-they-must-be-wiser-than-us-Americans were about to board to the correct train heading back to our hotel in the heart of the city. I wanted to follow those people. I wanted to get on the same train as they did because surely to goodness, they knew what they were doing seeing as how they were at least in their mid-thirties! Big Daddy looked me in the eye and said, “Follow them if you want to, but I am telling you they are getting on the wrong train”. It was a physical feat to NOT board that train with those total strangers and to stay with Big Daddy and trust him.
We waited and then boarded the train that Big Daddy said would take us back to our hotel. As we stepped off the platform and could see the area familiar to us, to me, I knew Big Daddy had been right. Why on earth would I have thought it smarter to follow perfect strangers, even if much older ones, rather than believe he knew what he was doing. As it turns out, that was a life-changing moment for me. I never doubted Big Daddy’s sense of direction after that. I knew that he had traveled the world and was far more capable of finding his way home than I ever could be. Life lesson. Lesson learned.
I guess that instance changed something in Big Daddy’s head, too. “She will get lost in paper bag with a blinking exit sign and bread crumbs to follow.” Pretty accurate, I guess. I have been turned around in some of the biggest AND smallest cities AND towns on two continents. Honestly, it IS a wonder I make it home as often as I do, which brings me to commentary for my upcoming trip…alone.
I have never flown alone. I have never been to the west coast. I have never stayed in a hotel by myself. I have never even driven more than 30 minutes by myself, that I can recall. I always have Big Daddy or the kids with me. I remember the panic on Big Daddy’s face when I was called back for a third interview in Cincinnati knowing if I took the position, I would have to drive over an hour every day, each way, in and out of a rather large city with plenty of one-way streets and that embedded “hood magnet” device somewhere in my brain. He even entertained the idea of us renting an apartment so that I would not have to travel back and forth so much. (He also thinks I am the worst driver in the history of mankind…)
In downtown Louisville, Big Daddy said to me, “Stop looking like a tourist” to which I replied, “But I AM a tourist”. Of course, he was trying to make us appear as non-targets while I was looking straight up at the architectural wonders of the buildings sizing up photo opportunities. Basically all I was missing was a flashing neon sign that said “Easy Prey. Mug Me.”
He and I really do live in different worlds…
So, here I am, about to board a 757 bound for the great states of Washington and California and I am relatively sure that the plane will fall out of the sky before I ever see the Pacific Ocean. Why? I don’t know. Am I genuinely afraid that something will happen and I won’t return home? I don’t know. Is the excitement of it all outweighing the fear of gravity itself figuring out that planes can’t fly getting to me? I don’t know.
I have a list of our “life documents” ready for Big Daddy in case something does happen. It has our account numbers for life insurance policies, 401K information, and how much my company will automatically pay for my demise while on company business. Should be enough for a very nice funeral, by the way. Speaking of my funeral, I have already written up the funeral program. I have listed my Honorary Pallbearers (I want to be cremated which should work out fine if I am in a plane crash) and the songs I would like to have played. I did want to have my photo montage ready to go so that Big Daddy and the kids wouldn’t have to mess with it, but I haven’t managed to do that as of today. I don’t want food at my funeral. I think that’s weird. I don’t want a bunch of crying and carrying on because if you know me at all, you know I would much rather prefer you laugh. That is why I tried so hard to be funny…to hear your laughter.
Anyway, I do have a few things that went undone and I don’t foresee that changing before I board my Delta flight to the west. I am assuming I will become published after my death because that is usually the way it goes and just so you know, that really sucks. I have some things on a jump drive that I will leave for my family to peruse at their discretion. A portrait of me, so to speak… Childhood memories, a list of my favorite things, songs, stories, you know, just in case they ever forget later on and want to remember. I have given instructions to two people on where I hid the gold. Still, so many things left unfinished… I feel quite incomplete.
I don’t really have any unfinished business with anyone. I believe I have apologized to those I have wronged. I cleaned out all my clothes that I held on to because of denial of my bilateral mastectomy and the ability to wear such clothes again. I gave away my sexy shoes along with my desire to dress up in high heels ever again. Several pair had never even been worn. What does THAT say?? Hahaha It actually says I am 5’11” and don’t need to wear heels.
As for our children, our son is employed and learning how to manage his own finances, so I consider that a huge plus as he nears his time to leave home and embark on his college career. Precious Son remains committed to become a youth minister in the Christian church as this has long since been his passion. Listening to my son pray makes my heart swell and tears fall. Our daughter has become an amazing young woman with a heart for missions and a sense of humor that leaves me laughing until my sides hurt. On Christmas, she showed me the one lesson I had wanted her to learn, she finally had.
It occurred to me that even though our children never had the honor and privilege to know my parents in flesh, they know them in spirit. Their Grandfather Kyle, was a devoted disciple of the Lord and minister within the Christian church, and our son follows in his footsteps. Their Grandmother Kyle, a selfless volunteer who showed Christ to those less fortunate, those who were sick and weak, and to those who knew Him not…and our daughter seeks to emulate her kind and generous benevolence. My parents were living examples of humility, graciousness, and honor.
My parents live on…
Will I?
Is this my compulsion? To live on? Is this urgency I feel to get my things in order more about the plane falling out of the sky or the cancer returning?
I have my first post-chemo scans in January. I asked my company if I could make this trip the first week of January for a couple of reasons.
1. If I die in a plane crash, I won’t have to be stuck with needles for the scans with contrast as my tests begin the second week of January.
2. If the scans show the cancer is back, I will have had a worry-free trip before finding out.
Maybe they are silly reasons, but they are mine. I have tried to explain how much I LOATHE needles and if I can avoid having them stuck into me, I will. Now, you may think it a tad far-fetched to plan a multi-destination trip in relation to my needle-necessary appointments, and it may very well be, however, how would I feel free-falling through the sky to my death while still sporting black and blue marks from the needle sticks that weren’t necessary anyway because I didn’t die of cancer but instead, a plane crash? Exactly. Think of it this way…those people on the Titanic who didn’t eat dessert? Yep. A stupid, stupid waste. At least this way, if one of the planes crash, I can chuckle to myself on the way down.
The biggest, most thought-consuming things I wish I had done before I fly out on Monday…
1. Organize our photos. I had said I would do this while off from work during chemo, however, chemo had other plans for my time.
2. Create my funeral montage. Now, it will be up to my family to choose photos that represented my life as opposed to my choosing photos in which I look thin.
3. Have my writings published, of course. There are more than just this blog. I believe some of my best work has yet to be seen. Actually, aren’t the writings of an author their way of glomming on to eternity?
Of course, there are always the questions looming in my mind about if I was a solid Christian, a better-than-the bestest mom, a loving and devoted wife, a generous friend, etc. As I grew older, I realized how important it is to honor my word and my promises. I learned through God’s grace not be judgmental despite being beyond excellent at it. I learned that people are imperfect and this includes me. I discovered that the people with all the answers are the ones with the wrong questions. Perhaps most hurtful of all was learning that an awful lot of Christians preach love but do not extend it. I know. I used to be one of them. Thank You, God, for never giving up on me…even when I gave up on myself.
So, here I am, writing “just in case”, wishing I could have some poignant quote to sign off with. Some words that would live on through the ages that others would want to quote. My favorite quotes are from Jack Handey. That, alone, makes me laugh. Yes, my words in quotation marks, followed by that little, squiggly line and then my name…
“Lower the bar.” ~Pandora Spocks
“Yes, even on New Circle, I AM the pace car!” ~Pandora Spocks
“There is a level of stupidity here that surpasses all understanding.” ~Pandora Spocks
“If I wanted you to hear me, I wouldn’t have whispered.” ~Pandora Spocks
“There is something to be said for slipping some people a mickey.” ~Pandora Spocks
“The greatest inventions ever include electricity, indoor plumbing, and Hershey bars.” ~Pandora Spocks
“Love. Forgive. Extend mercy and grace. Show Christ.” ~Dawn Kyle Stiltner
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Silo
To be read with a slow, southern drawl…
“Silo”
My eyes were drawn to it as I drove north toward Montgomery on Interstate 65. That old, cement silo attached to the barn that had been my place of refuge and solace as a little girl. There it stood, tall, antiquated but also with a look that was sort of apocalyptic. That ole silo had certainly not been made more efficient or practical over the years. Yes, that old silo just stood there with the vines of ages climbing and twining around it as if time had simply up and left it there. Even as dirt and dust kicked up behind my Buick, the wellspring of emotion from seeing that silo made me a veritable mess of sadness, despair, intrigue, and determination. There I was amidst a landmine of unresolved madness that made my heart race and my stomach churn. Yet again, that ole silo represented everything and nothing to me at the exact, same time. I had to keep moving that Buick toward it as opposed to the last time when I couldn’t push the gas pedal down hard enough to leave it in my rear view mirror.
I remember swearing I would never come back here and here I was. I swore I would sooner shoot myself in the head than recall the memories of this place and yet, damn it to hell, if I wasn’t driving up the gravel way towards it once more. The silo. The barn. The house. All of it coming into view more and more clearly as much as I didn’t want to see any of it. Damn him for making me come here, again. Damn him to hell.
I was named after the town where I was born. This is not to say that my mother was unoriginal, even though that is the absolute truth. Georgiana Caroline. And that is “Caroline” with a long ass “I”. God, even my mama couldn’t stand to call me that so the family just called me Dixie. Growing up, though, I wanted people to call me by my proper name, but nobody ever did. I never figured out if it was because nobody knew what my real name was or because they knew I hated to be called “Dixie”. Regardless, I hated those people and never answered any of ‘em, anyway. That was why I was paddled often at school, never one to listen. Me and my friend, Lu, would have far rather have been playing in that ole barn and climbin’ up the side of silo than ever sittin’ inside of some stale classroom.
Lu was my very best friend. We were born on the same day at the one and only hospital in Georgiana, Georgia. “Lu” was short for Tallulah. God, as much as I despised my name, that girl hated hers even more. Sometimes I had wished I had been born to Lu’s family instead of my own. Lu’s daddy always seemed so happy and was all lovey dovey towards her. It wasn’t until I was a teenager that I realized that kind of lovey doveyness was not a good thing and that Lu’s daddy was a monster.
All the people smiled and waved at Lu’s daddy when he would come into town for groceries and doodads, but more times than not, I overheard them curse him as he left their store or establishment. Lu’s daddy went by the name “Jake”, but I knew that couldn’t be short for “Jacob” because that was a Bible name and that man was the devil on earth. I figure they all just called him that because it sounded reputable enough but not too uppity.
Lu’s mama was never anywhere to be seen. She had killed herself when Lu and I were twelve years old. I’m sure Lu remembers that day even though she wished forever to forget it. I remember the sun was goin’ down and we had been at the silo all afternoon just like always. Fireflies were startin’ to come out and blink that neon yellow light from their tails. Me and Lu loved catching fireflies. At first we were way more interested in squishin’ their tails off and rubbing that yellow glowy light all over our foreheads like we were aliens or at the very least, Indians. We stopped doin’ that after Lu’s daddy caught her with the glow all over her face and made her stay out all night catching as many fireflies as she could and then makin’ her smash ‘em all and pull off their tails and rub the glow all over her naked body. He stood on the front porch all night with his bottle of booze in one hand and his other hand waving up and down like he was some preacher man. Jake told her that killin’ just to kill was evil and that she should be ashamed of herself to rob those bugs of their lives just so she could play dress up. He was crazy, that old man. Crazy. Like he hadn’t driven Lu’s mama to kill herself or somethin’.
So, there we were, climbin’ down from the silo when Lu and I heard the most awfullest sound. Even to this day, I cannot find the right words to describe that sound. At first, I thought it was Jesus Himself and we were in the middle of the Second Coming, but I figured out pretty fast that wasn’t right at all since we were still standing there. Bein’ baptized and all, I knew Jesus wasn’t goin’ to leave me behind plus I never saw dead people risin’ up out of their graves and Lu was still beside me, and if anyone was goin’ to heaven, it was Tallulah Ashford. God may very well leave everyone else behind, but He would never leave Lu. I trained my eyes on her and she never sprouted wings, so there we stood, tryin’ to figure out what that sound was.
I guess somethin’ deep inside of Lu stirred because she just started to run toward her house. The Ashford’s house sat on our property, right close to the family graveyard. From what I understood from eavesdroppin’ at the top of our staircase, Jake Ashford owed daddy a lot of money that he would never be able to repay so daddy let him “work it off” for the duration of his sorry life. To this day, I still don’t know all the ins and outs of daddy’s relationship with Jake Ashford and honestly, I don’t even care to.
As Lu ran toward her house, she had this look about her, in her eyes, especially. Her eyes were focused and mean and even a bit scary. She was flying like some crazed vulture about to swoop in on a new, dead carcass. It was terrible. I kept my mouth shut although I did want to call out to Lu and ask her to stop, that maybe we shouldn’t be runnin’ toward the noise, but away from it. But I knew better. While Lu was always the quiet one, when she made up her mind, there was no talkin’ her out of somethin’. This was one of those times so I just ran as fast as I could and tried to keep up with her. My chest was burnin’ as I gasped for air. We ran everywhere back then and I was pretty fast, but not that day. No, not trying to keep up with Lu. She was hell bent on gettin’ to that ramshackle house and I wasn’t gonna let her go alone. It was never good when Lu was alone in that place…
Lu threw the screen door open hard, jarring it off its hinge and I watched it in a kind of slow motion as it toppled down onto the porch. I had to step on it to get to through the doorway and to Lu. I smelled it right away. You don’t ever forget the smell a gun makes when it is fired once you have smelled it. Daddy fired his gun all the time, usually at imaginary birds he thought were flying around when he was drunk, but this time, this smell was eerily different from daddy’s gunshot. I reckon it was the smell of gunpowder mixin’ in with Lu’s mama’s blood. It was everywhere. That woman had taken perfect aim to kill herself with one shot and she absolutely did. She was dead before her body even slumped over and hit the floor. I think it was pretty obvious that Lu’s mama didn’t want any mistakes or to be revived.
The gun was still in her hand and the way her body fell to the floor you could tell this was on purpose. It wasn’t some sort of gun cleanin’ accident or anything of that sort. This was intentional. Lu’s mama wanted it to end, so instead of waitin’ on Jesus like the rest of us, she went ahead and pulled the trigger herself. Lu’s mama had placed the letter for Lu far away from where she knew her body would land. I always imagined her mama to be considerate like that. Makin’ sure no blood got on Lu’s letter because surely Lu would keep it forever. I don’t know why I had any kind of feelings one or another for Lu’s mama seein’ as how she never said a word to me. Maybe it was just obvious that she was a sufferin’ soul, placed on this earth to gather up the sins of others. Not sure but that’s what my own mama had always said about her. I just never thought it right to have to gather up other people’s sins so I felt kind of sorry for Lu’s mama.
I didn’t know what to say to Lu and she didn’t seem in too much of a hurry to say anything to me, but I did want to make sure she saw the letter from her mama. Funny how you just know some things even though you have no reason. Like, I knew as soon as I saw the letter, that is was from Lu’s mama and it was written for Lu and only Lu. I snatched it up and stuffed it in my pocket thinkin’ that maybe later would be a better time than right now for Lu to read her mama’s last words. Right now, Lu was just standing over her mama’s dead body. She wasn’t cryin’ or yellin’ or nothin’, really. She just stood there. Kind of like looking at her mama but not seein’ her, if that makes any sense. I didn’t know what to do after I snatched up the letter, so I just stood there, too, waitin’ on Lu to make some kind of move or say somethin’ or for her mama to wake up or just anything at all. The smell of the blood and gunfire was beginning to make me sick to my stomach, but I dared not complain or move an inch.
I am not sure how long Lu and I stood there before Jake Ashford came runnin’ in. You could tell he had been out drinking because you could smell the alcohol as it mixed in the air with the gunshot fire and all that blood. Even as hard as he had been runnin’, Jake Ashford never dropped his bottle. I heard him running up the porch steps and just as I turned around, there he was. He started yellin’ at Lu to get out and stop starin’ and he was cussin’ a blue streak about the mess. Yes, the man was gripin’ about the mess made on the floor. That’s what I remember…Jake bitchin’ about the mess and Lu turning around and walkin’ out. She never said a word to her daddy and she never said a word to me, but I followed her on out. For a moment I thought Jake Ashford was gonna hurl his liquor bottle at the wall or maybe even Lu’s dead mama, but he didn’t. He wasn’t about to waste good liquor so he just guzzled it instead.
Lu headed back to the silo and started climbin’ up. I was right behind her, never sayin’ a word. We didn’t run this time, but it was a rather fast paced walk. I guess she was thinkin’ about her mama bein’ dead and all. Without her mama, this would just leave Lu and Jake Ashford. Honestly, the thought of Lu doin’ the same, exact thing her mama did wasn’t too far from my mind.
We climbed back up the silo and just kind of sat there. The sun began to sink below the Georgia mountains and the sky turned all shades of blue, purple, and orange. I loved sunset then and I love it still. As the sun set that evening, though, I felt change in the air like a heavy blanket being pulled over my body and head. I knew Lu’s life, as horrible as it had been before, was about to become even worse and for the first time in my ten years, I didn’t like Lu’s mama very much for making it this way.
The evening chill fell upon our farm and I never did know if I should mention the sun setting or not but there was hell to pay if us girls were out past dark. I sat there with Lu, kind of just waitin’ on her to say somethin’ or move or even look at me, but she never did. I started to get cold because even on August nights, you can catch a chill quick as lightening when you lose the sun. I fidgeted around in pocket and pulled out the letter that Lu’s mama had left far from the blood spatters. I cleared my throat and tried to sound like I was matter-of-factly tellin’ her that I had a letter from her dead mama, like it happened all the time.
“Lu? I know you might not wanna talk right now, but I have somethin’ for you that I think you will want. I think it’s a letter from your mama. I saw it lyin’ on the table and your name is on it. It’s got a heart drawn on the envelope, Lu, so I know it’s gotta be from your mama. You want it, Lu? You want the letter?”
Lu never looked up and she never said a word. She held out her hand, though, and I just slid the letter into it. She didn’t open it, not with me then, anyway. Lu never looked at the letter, which even at twelve years old, I found to be odd. She did, however, crumple it up inside her fist. At first I thought she was doin’ that because she was mad but then I thought maybe she was just holdin’ on to it for dear life. Like that letter would be the reason she kept on livin’ or the reason she could kill herself, too. Either way, I wasn’t gonna judge Lu and I decided that whatever the reason was for her to ball up that letter, was reason enough for me.
Night fell and the stars came out one by one. It was chilly and my nose was beginning to run but I sat right there. Occasionally we heard Jake Ashford yellin’ for Lu but she never answered and neither one of us moved. I did feel like I should go to my house when I smelled my own mama’s pot roast and potatoes wafting through the air, but I didn’t. However, the colder I got, the more likely I was goin’ to answer my daddy when he started hollerin my name. Seemed like an awfully long time before anyone called my name, but eventually daddy did. By then, my nose was runnin’ and my feet were near froze as me and Lu had run through some wet grass on the way to her dead mama. Jake Ashford had left the water hose on and a whole bunch of water had pooled up in front of their house and sure enough if Lu and I hadn’t run smack into the middle of it on the way in to see what the noise was and now my feet were almost numb with cold.
Like a knife piercin’ a piece of meat, so was my daddy’s voice when he came home from workin’ the farm and I wasn’t in the house. I could make out his silhouette as he had gotten down off the truck and went inside the house. The porch light cast was enough for me to see him walk right back out after my mama undoubtedly told him I wasn’t there. When my daddy yelled for me, I went. It was that simple. I went outta my way to have him not yell my name, so when he did, I ran out of sheer fear. As it turns out, I ran that night, too. I told Lu I was sorry for havin’ to leave her but my daddy was callin’ and I had to go, dead mama or not.
Lu stayed up the side of silo all night, I reckon. I heard Jake Ashford yellin’ for her throughout the night. The coroner came right after my family had finished up supper. I could tell it was the coroner because of his name on the side of his van. On one side it said “Tom Dancey – Coroner” and the other side read “Tom Dancey – Attorney At Law”. Mr. Dancey had pulled his van in so that the side with “Coroner” on it showed toward the road. I reckon he had an awful lot of times when he was needed to be both coroner and attorney in the great town of Georgiana. There was always a lot of drama in Georgiana and most times Mr. Dancey would come into it as one but would leave as the other. Sometimes Mr. Dancey would stop by our house and daddy and he would step outside to talk in private. One time I heard Mr. Dancey say that he just couldn’t stand judgmental people and he hoped they all rotted in hell for it. Then him and my daddy laughed real hard.
And here I was again, only after having sworn to never return. It had been a good twenty-five years since that night when Mr. Dancey had his coroner’s van pulled up in Lu’s yard. Not exactly sure how a quarter of a century can be so fleeting, but it had been.
Lu eventually came down from the silo the next day and from all accounts she still had her mama’s letter ground into her tight fist. After the news spread, and boy it spread like wildfire, I wasn’t allowed to play with Lu too much anymore. If we did play together, it was in front of our house, and never the silo. My mama wanted to keep an eye on us girls. My thoughts were to protect us from Jake Ashford but as it turned out, it was to protect me from Lu.
Having your mama commit suicide changes you. Having your daddy force himself on you, changes you, too. Both those things happened to Lu. I never found out what the letter from her dead mama said and I reckon I haven’t needed to know, but I have always wondered.
I will never forget Jake Ashford chasing Lu through the cornfields to the silo and her just running and laughing as she would snake through the stalks, emerging at the silo and climbing, climbing, climbing. She knew two things full well…
1. Jake Ashford would never catch her.
2. Jake Ashford would never drop his liquor bottle to climb up after her and with him being that drunk, he would surely need two hands.
As I became older and learned more about life in general and the evil things men do, I distanced myself from them. I graduated from Georgiana High School and went on to study Architectural Art and Design at Pepperdine University in California. I figured California was as far as I could go from Georgiana, Georgia, so I went.
My mama passed away right after I turned twenty-six. She never left me a letter with a heart on it so I don’t reckon I will ever know her last thoughts. My daddy hired Mr. Dancey to handle all the financial and legal affairs for selling the farm after my mama died. I never showed up for any of that. Hell, I never showed up after I boarded that Greyhound for California. There wasn’t anything there for me when I was a child and there was never gonna be anything there for me as a grown woman, so I stayed away.
Some people wondered where Lu ran off to the year after her mama died and if I knew, I would tell you. Seems to me she just up and disappeared one night never to be heard from again. You would think that she would have written to me at least once just to let me know she was okay or where she was in case I wanted to run away, too, but she never did. I figured maybe she just needed to get away from Jake Ashford before she set the house on fire with him and his liquor in it.
As for me, I am sure that in the small town of Georgiana, Georgia a few people wondered about that girl who had such an artistic flair and wavy, auburn hair, but I never cared enough to tell them. I never told them about my trips to Paris, France and living on the kindness of strangers who tossed francs at me as I sketched their portrait or that I had been the mistress of a mad scientist who considered me his muse and often asked me to stand outside on the hotel balconies while he sketched me in his science notebook for later perusal. I surely never had any inclination to tell them that I had more money than I would ever be able to spend after a spurned suitor found me to be an exquisite escape from his mundane life as an accountant who had embezzled over a million dollars and then killed himself. And lastly, I never in a thousand years would bother the grand township of Georgiana with the knowledge that Jake Ashford and my own mama had more in common than shared property with an old barn and a cement silo.
I viewed the vine-choked silo from my Buick Le Sabre and I counted to ten knowing that I when I reached “ten”, I would step out of my car, stroll up to that silo, and start digging. I knew Lu had to be buried there and I knew I had to allow her soul to rest in peace. So, I began digging…and digging, and digging. I heard the distinct “clink” of my shovel hitting glass. Before too long, I had unearthed at least two liquor bottles. Damn him!!! Damn you to hell, Jake Ashford!!!
My daddy never knew who it was that had purchased the farm. Some rich out-of-towner with more money than God and no useful way to spend it, he thought. Seeing as how the property lined up to the interstate, daddy sometimes entertained the notion that the United States government had bought up his land to build something that would save the town of Georgiana. No, daddy, it wasn’t the government or the President or even the local magistrate. My daddy took the money, wherever it had come from and had gone into an assisted living home where some of his friends had retired. He was able to play cards and smoke and knock back a few here and there as they relived their glory days at Georgiana High School and such. My daddy seemed happy to me during his last few years and I took great comfort in that. No man had deserved or even earned it more. You see, I had later found out through Mr. Dancey that daddy had known all along about mama and Jake Ashford. Mr. Dancey had explained to me that he loved my mama so much that even her infidelity couldn’t make him stop.
I can tell you it’s hard to be someone’s muse, the other woman, or even yourself, sometimes. These things I know and yet I never offered up one iota of empathy for my mama despite the similarities between her life and mine. Maybe she was as crazy or needy or just mistook sex for love. Maybe she was a sufferin’ soul like she said Lu’s mama was. Maybe, just maybe, my mama hated her life and herself enough to destroy everybody else’s she was supposed to love and care for. Maybe my mama did me a favor by livin’ the way she did ’cause I guarandamntee you that no man has ever had the ability to me make me love him and I consider that pure contrivance on my part. Regardless, my life is what it is and I have no regrets. I never gave my heart away to any man, only my body, and that ain’t nothin’ but a thing. And you know when all is said and done, I will come out the winner in that game because once you give your heart away, you never get it back.
So, it was me, daddy, I bought your land and now I am digging up the remains of my childhood friend on the same day that I have buried you.
“Silo”
My eyes were drawn to it as I drove north toward Montgomery on Interstate 65. That old, cement silo attached to the barn that had been my place of refuge and solace as a little girl. There it stood, tall, antiquated but also with a look that was sort of apocalyptic. That ole silo had certainly not been made more efficient or practical over the years. Yes, that old silo just stood there with the vines of ages climbing and twining around it as if time had simply up and left it there. Even as dirt and dust kicked up behind my Buick, the wellspring of emotion from seeing that silo made me a veritable mess of sadness, despair, intrigue, and determination. There I was amidst a landmine of unresolved madness that made my heart race and my stomach churn. Yet again, that ole silo represented everything and nothing to me at the exact, same time. I had to keep moving that Buick toward it as opposed to the last time when I couldn’t push the gas pedal down hard enough to leave it in my rear view mirror.
I remember swearing I would never come back here and here I was. I swore I would sooner shoot myself in the head than recall the memories of this place and yet, damn it to hell, if I wasn’t driving up the gravel way towards it once more. The silo. The barn. The house. All of it coming into view more and more clearly as much as I didn’t want to see any of it. Damn him for making me come here, again. Damn him to hell.
I was named after the town where I was born. This is not to say that my mother was unoriginal, even though that is the absolute truth. Georgiana Caroline. And that is “Caroline” with a long ass “I”. God, even my mama couldn’t stand to call me that so the family just called me Dixie. Growing up, though, I wanted people to call me by my proper name, but nobody ever did. I never figured out if it was because nobody knew what my real name was or because they knew I hated to be called “Dixie”. Regardless, I hated those people and never answered any of ‘em, anyway. That was why I was paddled often at school, never one to listen. Me and my friend, Lu, would have far rather have been playing in that ole barn and climbin’ up the side of silo than ever sittin’ inside of some stale classroom.
Lu was my very best friend. We were born on the same day at the one and only hospital in Georgiana, Georgia. “Lu” was short for Tallulah. God, as much as I despised my name, that girl hated hers even more. Sometimes I had wished I had been born to Lu’s family instead of my own. Lu’s daddy always seemed so happy and was all lovey dovey towards her. It wasn’t until I was a teenager that I realized that kind of lovey doveyness was not a good thing and that Lu’s daddy was a monster.
All the people smiled and waved at Lu’s daddy when he would come into town for groceries and doodads, but more times than not, I overheard them curse him as he left their store or establishment. Lu’s daddy went by the name “Jake”, but I knew that couldn’t be short for “Jacob” because that was a Bible name and that man was the devil on earth. I figure they all just called him that because it sounded reputable enough but not too uppity.
Lu’s mama was never anywhere to be seen. She had killed herself when Lu and I were twelve years old. I’m sure Lu remembers that day even though she wished forever to forget it. I remember the sun was goin’ down and we had been at the silo all afternoon just like always. Fireflies were startin’ to come out and blink that neon yellow light from their tails. Me and Lu loved catching fireflies. At first we were way more interested in squishin’ their tails off and rubbing that yellow glowy light all over our foreheads like we were aliens or at the very least, Indians. We stopped doin’ that after Lu’s daddy caught her with the glow all over her face and made her stay out all night catching as many fireflies as she could and then makin’ her smash ‘em all and pull off their tails and rub the glow all over her naked body. He stood on the front porch all night with his bottle of booze in one hand and his other hand waving up and down like he was some preacher man. Jake told her that killin’ just to kill was evil and that she should be ashamed of herself to rob those bugs of their lives just so she could play dress up. He was crazy, that old man. Crazy. Like he hadn’t driven Lu’s mama to kill herself or somethin’.
So, there we were, climbin’ down from the silo when Lu and I heard the most awfullest sound. Even to this day, I cannot find the right words to describe that sound. At first, I thought it was Jesus Himself and we were in the middle of the Second Coming, but I figured out pretty fast that wasn’t right at all since we were still standing there. Bein’ baptized and all, I knew Jesus wasn’t goin’ to leave me behind plus I never saw dead people risin’ up out of their graves and Lu was still beside me, and if anyone was goin’ to heaven, it was Tallulah Ashford. God may very well leave everyone else behind, but He would never leave Lu. I trained my eyes on her and she never sprouted wings, so there we stood, tryin’ to figure out what that sound was.
I guess somethin’ deep inside of Lu stirred because she just started to run toward her house. The Ashford’s house sat on our property, right close to the family graveyard. From what I understood from eavesdroppin’ at the top of our staircase, Jake Ashford owed daddy a lot of money that he would never be able to repay so daddy let him “work it off” for the duration of his sorry life. To this day, I still don’t know all the ins and outs of daddy’s relationship with Jake Ashford and honestly, I don’t even care to.
As Lu ran toward her house, she had this look about her, in her eyes, especially. Her eyes were focused and mean and even a bit scary. She was flying like some crazed vulture about to swoop in on a new, dead carcass. It was terrible. I kept my mouth shut although I did want to call out to Lu and ask her to stop, that maybe we shouldn’t be runnin’ toward the noise, but away from it. But I knew better. While Lu was always the quiet one, when she made up her mind, there was no talkin’ her out of somethin’. This was one of those times so I just ran as fast as I could and tried to keep up with her. My chest was burnin’ as I gasped for air. We ran everywhere back then and I was pretty fast, but not that day. No, not trying to keep up with Lu. She was hell bent on gettin’ to that ramshackle house and I wasn’t gonna let her go alone. It was never good when Lu was alone in that place…
Lu threw the screen door open hard, jarring it off its hinge and I watched it in a kind of slow motion as it toppled down onto the porch. I had to step on it to get to through the doorway and to Lu. I smelled it right away. You don’t ever forget the smell a gun makes when it is fired once you have smelled it. Daddy fired his gun all the time, usually at imaginary birds he thought were flying around when he was drunk, but this time, this smell was eerily different from daddy’s gunshot. I reckon it was the smell of gunpowder mixin’ in with Lu’s mama’s blood. It was everywhere. That woman had taken perfect aim to kill herself with one shot and she absolutely did. She was dead before her body even slumped over and hit the floor. I think it was pretty obvious that Lu’s mama didn’t want any mistakes or to be revived.
The gun was still in her hand and the way her body fell to the floor you could tell this was on purpose. It wasn’t some sort of gun cleanin’ accident or anything of that sort. This was intentional. Lu’s mama wanted it to end, so instead of waitin’ on Jesus like the rest of us, she went ahead and pulled the trigger herself. Lu’s mama had placed the letter for Lu far away from where she knew her body would land. I always imagined her mama to be considerate like that. Makin’ sure no blood got on Lu’s letter because surely Lu would keep it forever. I don’t know why I had any kind of feelings one or another for Lu’s mama seein’ as how she never said a word to me. Maybe it was just obvious that she was a sufferin’ soul, placed on this earth to gather up the sins of others. Not sure but that’s what my own mama had always said about her. I just never thought it right to have to gather up other people’s sins so I felt kind of sorry for Lu’s mama.
I didn’t know what to say to Lu and she didn’t seem in too much of a hurry to say anything to me, but I did want to make sure she saw the letter from her mama. Funny how you just know some things even though you have no reason. Like, I knew as soon as I saw the letter, that is was from Lu’s mama and it was written for Lu and only Lu. I snatched it up and stuffed it in my pocket thinkin’ that maybe later would be a better time than right now for Lu to read her mama’s last words. Right now, Lu was just standing over her mama’s dead body. She wasn’t cryin’ or yellin’ or nothin’, really. She just stood there. Kind of like looking at her mama but not seein’ her, if that makes any sense. I didn’t know what to do after I snatched up the letter, so I just stood there, too, waitin’ on Lu to make some kind of move or say somethin’ or for her mama to wake up or just anything at all. The smell of the blood and gunfire was beginning to make me sick to my stomach, but I dared not complain or move an inch.
I am not sure how long Lu and I stood there before Jake Ashford came runnin’ in. You could tell he had been out drinking because you could smell the alcohol as it mixed in the air with the gunshot fire and all that blood. Even as hard as he had been runnin’, Jake Ashford never dropped his bottle. I heard him running up the porch steps and just as I turned around, there he was. He started yellin’ at Lu to get out and stop starin’ and he was cussin’ a blue streak about the mess. Yes, the man was gripin’ about the mess made on the floor. That’s what I remember…Jake bitchin’ about the mess and Lu turning around and walkin’ out. She never said a word to her daddy and she never said a word to me, but I followed her on out. For a moment I thought Jake Ashford was gonna hurl his liquor bottle at the wall or maybe even Lu’s dead mama, but he didn’t. He wasn’t about to waste good liquor so he just guzzled it instead.
Lu headed back to the silo and started climbin’ up. I was right behind her, never sayin’ a word. We didn’t run this time, but it was a rather fast paced walk. I guess she was thinkin’ about her mama bein’ dead and all. Without her mama, this would just leave Lu and Jake Ashford. Honestly, the thought of Lu doin’ the same, exact thing her mama did wasn’t too far from my mind.
We climbed back up the silo and just kind of sat there. The sun began to sink below the Georgia mountains and the sky turned all shades of blue, purple, and orange. I loved sunset then and I love it still. As the sun set that evening, though, I felt change in the air like a heavy blanket being pulled over my body and head. I knew Lu’s life, as horrible as it had been before, was about to become even worse and for the first time in my ten years, I didn’t like Lu’s mama very much for making it this way.
The evening chill fell upon our farm and I never did know if I should mention the sun setting or not but there was hell to pay if us girls were out past dark. I sat there with Lu, kind of just waitin’ on her to say somethin’ or move or even look at me, but she never did. I started to get cold because even on August nights, you can catch a chill quick as lightening when you lose the sun. I fidgeted around in pocket and pulled out the letter that Lu’s mama had left far from the blood spatters. I cleared my throat and tried to sound like I was matter-of-factly tellin’ her that I had a letter from her dead mama, like it happened all the time.
“Lu? I know you might not wanna talk right now, but I have somethin’ for you that I think you will want. I think it’s a letter from your mama. I saw it lyin’ on the table and your name is on it. It’s got a heart drawn on the envelope, Lu, so I know it’s gotta be from your mama. You want it, Lu? You want the letter?”
Lu never looked up and she never said a word. She held out her hand, though, and I just slid the letter into it. She didn’t open it, not with me then, anyway. Lu never looked at the letter, which even at twelve years old, I found to be odd. She did, however, crumple it up inside her fist. At first I thought she was doin’ that because she was mad but then I thought maybe she was just holdin’ on to it for dear life. Like that letter would be the reason she kept on livin’ or the reason she could kill herself, too. Either way, I wasn’t gonna judge Lu and I decided that whatever the reason was for her to ball up that letter, was reason enough for me.
Night fell and the stars came out one by one. It was chilly and my nose was beginning to run but I sat right there. Occasionally we heard Jake Ashford yellin’ for Lu but she never answered and neither one of us moved. I did feel like I should go to my house when I smelled my own mama’s pot roast and potatoes wafting through the air, but I didn’t. However, the colder I got, the more likely I was goin’ to answer my daddy when he started hollerin my name. Seemed like an awfully long time before anyone called my name, but eventually daddy did. By then, my nose was runnin’ and my feet were near froze as me and Lu had run through some wet grass on the way to her dead mama. Jake Ashford had left the water hose on and a whole bunch of water had pooled up in front of their house and sure enough if Lu and I hadn’t run smack into the middle of it on the way in to see what the noise was and now my feet were almost numb with cold.
Like a knife piercin’ a piece of meat, so was my daddy’s voice when he came home from workin’ the farm and I wasn’t in the house. I could make out his silhouette as he had gotten down off the truck and went inside the house. The porch light cast was enough for me to see him walk right back out after my mama undoubtedly told him I wasn’t there. When my daddy yelled for me, I went. It was that simple. I went outta my way to have him not yell my name, so when he did, I ran out of sheer fear. As it turns out, I ran that night, too. I told Lu I was sorry for havin’ to leave her but my daddy was callin’ and I had to go, dead mama or not.
Lu stayed up the side of silo all night, I reckon. I heard Jake Ashford yellin’ for her throughout the night. The coroner came right after my family had finished up supper. I could tell it was the coroner because of his name on the side of his van. On one side it said “Tom Dancey – Coroner” and the other side read “Tom Dancey – Attorney At Law”. Mr. Dancey had pulled his van in so that the side with “Coroner” on it showed toward the road. I reckon he had an awful lot of times when he was needed to be both coroner and attorney in the great town of Georgiana. There was always a lot of drama in Georgiana and most times Mr. Dancey would come into it as one but would leave as the other. Sometimes Mr. Dancey would stop by our house and daddy and he would step outside to talk in private. One time I heard Mr. Dancey say that he just couldn’t stand judgmental people and he hoped they all rotted in hell for it. Then him and my daddy laughed real hard.
And here I was again, only after having sworn to never return. It had been a good twenty-five years since that night when Mr. Dancey had his coroner’s van pulled up in Lu’s yard. Not exactly sure how a quarter of a century can be so fleeting, but it had been.
Lu eventually came down from the silo the next day and from all accounts she still had her mama’s letter ground into her tight fist. After the news spread, and boy it spread like wildfire, I wasn’t allowed to play with Lu too much anymore. If we did play together, it was in front of our house, and never the silo. My mama wanted to keep an eye on us girls. My thoughts were to protect us from Jake Ashford but as it turned out, it was to protect me from Lu.
Having your mama commit suicide changes you. Having your daddy force himself on you, changes you, too. Both those things happened to Lu. I never found out what the letter from her dead mama said and I reckon I haven’t needed to know, but I have always wondered.
I will never forget Jake Ashford chasing Lu through the cornfields to the silo and her just running and laughing as she would snake through the stalks, emerging at the silo and climbing, climbing, climbing. She knew two things full well…
1. Jake Ashford would never catch her.
2. Jake Ashford would never drop his liquor bottle to climb up after her and with him being that drunk, he would surely need two hands.
As I became older and learned more about life in general and the evil things men do, I distanced myself from them. I graduated from Georgiana High School and went on to study Architectural Art and Design at Pepperdine University in California. I figured California was as far as I could go from Georgiana, Georgia, so I went.
My mama passed away right after I turned twenty-six. She never left me a letter with a heart on it so I don’t reckon I will ever know her last thoughts. My daddy hired Mr. Dancey to handle all the financial and legal affairs for selling the farm after my mama died. I never showed up for any of that. Hell, I never showed up after I boarded that Greyhound for California. There wasn’t anything there for me when I was a child and there was never gonna be anything there for me as a grown woman, so I stayed away.
Some people wondered where Lu ran off to the year after her mama died and if I knew, I would tell you. Seems to me she just up and disappeared one night never to be heard from again. You would think that she would have written to me at least once just to let me know she was okay or where she was in case I wanted to run away, too, but she never did. I figured maybe she just needed to get away from Jake Ashford before she set the house on fire with him and his liquor in it.
As for me, I am sure that in the small town of Georgiana, Georgia a few people wondered about that girl who had such an artistic flair and wavy, auburn hair, but I never cared enough to tell them. I never told them about my trips to Paris, France and living on the kindness of strangers who tossed francs at me as I sketched their portrait or that I had been the mistress of a mad scientist who considered me his muse and often asked me to stand outside on the hotel balconies while he sketched me in his science notebook for later perusal. I surely never had any inclination to tell them that I had more money than I would ever be able to spend after a spurned suitor found me to be an exquisite escape from his mundane life as an accountant who had embezzled over a million dollars and then killed himself. And lastly, I never in a thousand years would bother the grand township of Georgiana with the knowledge that Jake Ashford and my own mama had more in common than shared property with an old barn and a cement silo.
I viewed the vine-choked silo from my Buick Le Sabre and I counted to ten knowing that I when I reached “ten”, I would step out of my car, stroll up to that silo, and start digging. I knew Lu had to be buried there and I knew I had to allow her soul to rest in peace. So, I began digging…and digging, and digging. I heard the distinct “clink” of my shovel hitting glass. Before too long, I had unearthed at least two liquor bottles. Damn him!!! Damn you to hell, Jake Ashford!!!
My daddy never knew who it was that had purchased the farm. Some rich out-of-towner with more money than God and no useful way to spend it, he thought. Seeing as how the property lined up to the interstate, daddy sometimes entertained the notion that the United States government had bought up his land to build something that would save the town of Georgiana. No, daddy, it wasn’t the government or the President or even the local magistrate. My daddy took the money, wherever it had come from and had gone into an assisted living home where some of his friends had retired. He was able to play cards and smoke and knock back a few here and there as they relived their glory days at Georgiana High School and such. My daddy seemed happy to me during his last few years and I took great comfort in that. No man had deserved or even earned it more. You see, I had later found out through Mr. Dancey that daddy had known all along about mama and Jake Ashford. Mr. Dancey had explained to me that he loved my mama so much that even her infidelity couldn’t make him stop.
I can tell you it’s hard to be someone’s muse, the other woman, or even yourself, sometimes. These things I know and yet I never offered up one iota of empathy for my mama despite the similarities between her life and mine. Maybe she was as crazy or needy or just mistook sex for love. Maybe she was a sufferin’ soul like she said Lu’s mama was. Maybe, just maybe, my mama hated her life and herself enough to destroy everybody else’s she was supposed to love and care for. Maybe my mama did me a favor by livin’ the way she did ’cause I guarandamntee you that no man has ever had the ability to me make me love him and I consider that pure contrivance on my part. Regardless, my life is what it is and I have no regrets. I never gave my heart away to any man, only my body, and that ain’t nothin’ but a thing. And you know when all is said and done, I will come out the winner in that game because once you give your heart away, you never get it back.
So, it was me, daddy, I bought your land and now I am digging up the remains of my childhood friend on the same day that I have buried you.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
YouTube Videos & Scaredy Cats
So, I have uploaded the videos here to avoid the glitches with links.
It is my recommendation that you go ahead and click on the YouTube icon (bottom, right of video) and view the video there instead. The quality is better.
And yes, Helen, and other concerned viewers, the last frame of Winter Song is supposed to look like "old film reel".
Thanks for the laughs!
I am loving me some video makin'!!
Also, I want to thank so many of you for the personal emails regarding "Dreaming". It honestly moves me to tears sometimes me that so many of you have much commentary but prefer to remain anonymous because of your own "dreams" or "past" or "present", even.
I am here...
Because of you, I am here...
Love, Pandie
It is my recommendation that you go ahead and click on the YouTube icon (bottom, right of video) and view the video there instead. The quality is better.
And yes, Helen, and other concerned viewers, the last frame of Winter Song is supposed to look like "old film reel".
Thanks for the laughs!
I am loving me some video makin'!!
Also, I want to thank so many of you for the personal emails regarding "Dreaming". It honestly moves me to tears sometimes me that so many of you have much commentary but prefer to remain anonymous because of your own "dreams" or "past" or "present", even.
I am here...
Because of you, I am here...
Love, Pandie
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