Sometimes memories come to you in quick flashes, other times they unfold slowly. Sometimes you feel disconnected from them, and then there are times, like the last 24 hours where you are fully connected to, with and in them.
MEMORY PAIN: 1
I see me, in my bedroom. On the wall are posters of Burt Reynolds, Donnie Osmond, Bear Bryant, Joe Nameth, Elvis and The Eagles. There was a collage of Burt photos on my bedroom door. Daddy would shake his head each time he looked at it.
"Oh, Daddy, he is so handsome." I would say.
"Well, if that's handsome, I'm glad I'm ugly." He would respond. (Just for the record, my Daddy is not now, nor has he ever been ugly)
The yellow sundress was new, I had purchased it earlier in the day at what was then my favorite clothing store, The Three Sisters.
I tried it on, not really sure about how it looked, but Mother said it looked "....beautiful...especially with your dark hair and tan...."
The dress ended up costing about 20 dollars, tax included, and you have to remember this was 27 years ago.
Normally, I would have washed it before wearing, but, we had lingered in town too long that day. I remember clipping the tags off, selecting which shoes, necklace and earrings I would wear. After getting Mother's approval on my selections, I started getting ready.
I see me, standing in front of the mirror for one last look and hearing my dog, Buttons barking outside and the sound of a car coming up the driveway.
I remained in the bedroom and listened for the knock. Daddy opened the door and invited him in, telling him to take a seat and acknowledging that, "As usual, she's not ready...."
Mother walked up the hall, knocked on the door before stepping inside, told me that "he" was here. I grabbed my clutch bag from the bed.
I am walking for the door and everything seems to go in slow motion. If only I could hit the PAUSE button on this scene. If only I could tell the 18 year old in the yellow sundress not to go.
MEMORY PAIN: 2
Dinner at Red Lobster in Irondale. He ordered 1 drink, right after another. My insides were telling me even then, warning me, something wasn't right.
Even though I was working and had cash, Daddy always made sure, I had more than enough and called it, "Just in case money". He never said what the "case" might be. There was no such thing as cell phones,but there were pay phones, at the time everywhere. My parents were going away for the week, so they weren't home. There was a host of friends and family I could have called. But, I didn't. I chalked it up to nerves and didn't want to seem like a baby. He already teased me about that enough, "Little Miss Goody Two Shoes", "Daddy's Little Princess"...so forth and so on. At the time I thought he was just joking, but I should have sensed what was behind the names.
He was changing right before my eyes, into some kind of monster. His voice was different and something frightening lurked behind his eyes. After dinner, I suggested that we call it a night and head back home. At first he said okay, but once in the car, he was all over me. We were going to make a night of it he said. I told him that I had a headache. He responded that some dancing at a new Country Western club would do me good.
He held my left hand tightly and wouldn't let it go as we sped off into the night. Taking my hand and putting it on his crotch, insisting that I keep it there. Now, I had never touched one of those things a day in my life, I thought he was going to break my hand.
"Something is not right". Those words kept going over and over in my mind.
(OKAY...MAJOR LIGHT BULB MOMENT HERE!!!!!! It has often been discussed in my circle of friends, and people that know me pretty well, why I will often say, "Everything is fine", when that is on the other side of the world from the truth or...why I won't talk about things that are going on and bothering me. Bev and I have especially talked about this many times, when she will sense that something is wrong, but I will insist that all is "fine", and finally confess sometime later (or not) what was going on or bothering me. I've always told her, and my close friends know that, unless it "feels" right to me, the time, place, atmosphere....I won't do it...I won't talk about it.....nothing.....LIGHT BULB MOMENT....I just now, made the connection....this is why! A friend has often remarked that he can always tell when something is wrong, because I will always say things are, "fine" or "alright".)
Once we arrived at the club, even though I wasn't legally old enough, I was hoping against hope they would ask to see my ID. They didn't. We went inside and he continued to drink, followed by wanting to dance. He drug me out onto the dance floor like a ragdoll.
I had noted a payphone near the restrooms and finally summoned up my nerve and decided that I would call my uncle to come get me. He was over an hour away, but maybe if I could get away from him, make the phone call, I could then tell one of the bouncers that had a nice face that I was afraid of my date and didn't want him near me.
I knew I would have to choose my moment carefully and started playing along like I was having a grand time. Casually, I announced that I was going to the rest room and would be right back, even asking him to order me another Coke while I was gone.
Walking away, my heart was pounding. Instead of going right for the phone, I walked in the restroom, stayed for a minute, opened the door to find him standing right there. He had suddenly decided that it was time to go.
He is dragging me toward the door, and everything seems to go in slow motion.
Oh, if I had only had the forethought or courage to start screaming bloody murder right then and there. But, I didn't.
MEMORY PAIN: 3
I remember the look in "D's" fathers face when he saw me. I remember sitting on the sofa wrapped up in an afghan while he spoke on the phone to "D". Some time later, I don't know how long, I remember hearing "D's" automobile racing up the drive, the squeal of brakes and a loud BAM as he ran into the metal trash cans.
The back door flew open and he was knocking over stuff left and right while making his way into the living room. In a split second he was standing in front of me. The look on his face said it all and he knelt down in front of me. All I could do was stare at him and rub the onyx ring given to me by his big brother a few months before his death.
His face was blood red. Suddenly he stood up scaring me to death.
"I will kill him." He screamed as his father raced over telling him to calm down, but he wouldn't until he whispered something in his ear, and shook his head in agreement with whatever had been said.
Orginially, the plan had been for "D" and his newest flame to meet, have dinner and spend the evening with us, but, he had something else in mind and begged off. He always blamed himself for not being there.
MEMORY PAIN: 4
2 days later, we were sitting on the sun porch. He stroked my head, then grabbed my hand, looking very serious.
"Say the word, and he is dead."
My insides started doing flip flops. I knew he wasn't kidding,but despite everything, I couldn't have that on my soul.
That day, we burned in the barbeque pit on the patio, everything that I had been wearing that night. Everything that is except the onyx ring.
Everything slows as he tosses 1 item after another into the blazing fire. He removes the yellow sundress, sparks and ashes shoot up into the air. In a way, it felt like a part of me, my innocence, trust and security were being burned also.
Prior to this, I used to wear dresses and skirts often. After this, only to church or a funeral. Never again did I wear anything other than pants or jeans on a date....Until.....I met The Yankee. I remember meeting him for coffee one night, and realizing once I got into the car: Hey...I'm wearing a skirt.
MEMORY PAIN: 5
5 days later, I went back home and was careful to wear things that would cover the bruises I still had on my body.
Mother and Daddy weren't there when I got home and I spent that time trying to put myself in a different frame of mind.
Mother asked me later that night how the date was. I told her it was okay, but I wouldn't be seeing him anymore. She asked why and I said that we had decided to see other people.
Trying to pull anything over on Mother was like trying to sneak daylight past a rooster.
She cocked her head to the side, eyes drilling into me, hands on hips:
"Is everything alright....? Is there something you need to tell us?" She asked.
At her words, Daddy looked up from the kitchen table where he was going through the mail.
Everything seems to go in slow motion as the words: "No, everything is fine", leaves my mouth.
Yet, everything inside me was screaming, TELL THEM....TELL THEM...TELL THEM. But, I didn't.
A few days later, I heard through the county grapevine that he had left not only Alabama, but the United States.
MEMORY PAIN: 6
What if I wasn't the only one?
What if he did it to another?
SIDE NOTE: You won't find, not even 1 yellow article of clothing in my closet or drawers. The same was true for my children. Especially my daughter.
Later Ya'll...^Belle^
