STORYTIME TAPESTRY

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Special Treat ??“ Barbara Elliott Carpenter

Jan 15, 2006

? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?  A TIME TO HEAL

? ? ? ? ?  ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?  ? ? ? ? ? ? By

? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?  ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?  Barbara Elliott Carpenter

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One January morning in nineteen forty-eight, just as I was going out the door for the long, cold trek to school, my mother stopped me.?  I was almost eight years old, and I was in the second grade.?  I was no longer afraid to walk to school alone.?  I felt like a big girl.

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???Go to Uncle Dan??™s house after school today, Sweetie.?  I??™m taking your brother and the baby up there this afternoon, and our house will be locked.?  In case you forget, you can go to Sharon??™s house until we come home.????  For a short time in the late nineteen forties, my Uncle Dan and Aunt Pearline lived about six blocks north of us on Pine Street.?  It was the only time we had relatives living in the same town we did.?  They had two little boys, both a few years younger than I.

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???Okay, Mom.????  It??™s a shame that mothers are not equipped with x-ray vision, although they do sometimes come close.?  If my mom could have seen the wheels turning inside my head that morning, both of us could have been spared a lot of anguish. Before I closed the door behind me, I knew that I was going to ???forget??? to go to Uncle Dan??™s house.

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It was no fun to play with more little boys.?  One lived in my house, and I played with him all the time.?  I??™d much rather go to the house of one of my friend??™s, and there were several to consider. I spent the day working out the plan in my head.?  I had been to Sharon??™s house many times, probably more than any other, because she lived right behind me.?  So I thought that I should branch out a little, maybe go where I had not yet been.

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I knew where Ellen Kay lived, but I hadn??™t been to her house.?  She lived just two blocks north of Sharon, on Locust Street.?  Coming home from Ellen??™s, I could walk past Sharon??™s house and turn onto Alley Street, which led right to my house.?  It would look as if I had come from Sharon??™s, and my mom would never know the difference.?  The machinations of an almost-eight-year-old mind can be an awesome thing.

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My plan worked perfectly.?  School dismissed at three-thirty, and Ellen Kay and I walked to her house, a big, light yellow, two-storied house with a wrap-around covered porch.?  I didn??™t make up an elaborate story to tell Ellen Kay??™s mother.?  I had merely come to play with her daughter.

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We had a marvelous time.?  Mrs. Cunningham made a snack for us and served it in the living room.?  Ellen and I played simple board games and played with her dolls.?  I had? ?  made a good choice.?  Unfortunately, I had kept no track of time; nor had I given to Mrs. Cunningham a time that I must leave.

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???Honey, it??™s getting dark outside.?  Don??™t you think you should go home, before it gets darker?????  Mrs. Cunningham sounded concerned.?  I nodded, put on my coat, picked up my books, and headed for home.?  It wasn??™t a long walk, but it was darker than I wanted it to be.?  The tall maple trees along the streets took on grotesque forms in the deepening dusk.?  A cold, winter wind kicked up, and I pulled the collar of my coat higher around my neck.?  A dog barked from the porch of a nearby house, and I started to run. My adventure had lost its appeal.

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I hurried across Route 133, and ran past Sharon??™s house.?  When I turned left on Alley, I could see that all the houses on Pine Street, across from the park, had lights shining in the windows.? ?  The lights were on in my house, too. Just as I turned into the back yard, my dad??™s car pulled in from Pine Street.?  I assumed that he was coming from work, for it was always dark when he came home.?  I opened the back door, the words of my ???forgetting??? story on my lips.?  I closed the door, took two steps into the kitchen, and I heard the front door slam. My dad strode into the kitchen, and I knew that I was in serious trouble.?  I had never seen him so angry.?  His blue eyes were flashing fire, and he was breathing hard.

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???Where have you been, Young Lady???? he demanded.?  All lies fell away from me.?  I looked up, way up, into a face that I scarcely recognized.

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???A-at Ellen Kay??™s,??? I stuttered.

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???Didn??™t your mommy tell you to go to Uncle Dan??™s house????

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???Yes.????  I nodded.

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???And if you forgot, you were supposed to go to Sharon??™s house????

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???Yes.????  I nodded again.

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Dad grabbed my left arm, and my books fell to the kitchen floor.?  He swung me around, bent me across one of his knees, and delivered the worst spanking I ever received.?  More than a spanking, it was a beating that I thought would never end.?  It was the only time I was thankful to be wearing the heavy, red snow pants.?  Without them, I don??™t know how I would have survived.?  It was the first and only time my dad ever raised a hand to me.

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???Daddy, no, Daddy, no, Daddy, Daddy!????  I screamed.?  He wouldn??™t stop hitting me.?  Through my tears I could see the geometric pattern on the linoleum, fuzzy and blurred.?  I stopped struggling.?  I felt my body go limp against his leg, and I couldn??™t catch my breath.?  My father finally stopped delivering the punishing blows.?  He dropped my arm; and without another word, he left the house.? ?  He was still wearing his coat.

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Sobbing, I stood where he had left me.?  I was dazed, hurt, and humiliated.?  From the corner of my eye, I could see my little brother, who was going to celebrate his sixth birthday the following week.?  He stood just inside the door that led to the front room.?  His eyes were big, and tears of sympathy and fear rolled down his face.?  My eighteen-month-old sister was quiet, too.?  I could see her on the couch, where she clutched a stuffed, rag doll in her arms.?  Her big blue eyes stared at me, and she looked as if she were afraid to move.

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???Did Daddy whip you?????  My mother came from the back bedroom.?  Tears ran down her face, too.?  I had no idea why she was crying.?  I was the one with a throbbing, aching behind.

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???Ye-e-e-s,??? I hiccupped.?  I couldn??™t stop the sobs.

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???Well, if he hadn??™t, I was going to!??? she told me.?  ???Honey, you scared us to death!?  What were you thinking????

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???I just w-wanted to p-play with Ellen K-k-kay!???

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???Go change your clothes.?  I??™ve got to make supper.????  I could see that no sympathy would come from that quarter.?  I did as she told me.?  I discovered that I had wet myself during the whipping, adding additional shame to my state of disgrace.?  Big girls didn??™t wet themselves.

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I stayed in the bedroom that my brother and I shared.?  I sat, gingerly, upon the bed and stayed there until Mom called me to come to supper.?  It was late, after seven.?  We always had supper no later than six o??™clock.?  Not only had I upset the whole family, I was responsible for disrupting the dinner hour.

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Dad had not yet returned.?  Grateful for that small blessing, I sat down at the kitchen table.?  My skinny buttocks and thighs hurt with every movement, so I tried not to squirm on the wood chair.?  I don??™t remember what my mother made for supper.?  I know that she put something on my plate and told me to eat, but I had a hard time trying to swallow.

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???Mommy, I??™m not hungry.?  Can I go to the bedroom???? I asked.?  My mother nodded.?  Carefully, I moved from the chair.?  I had taken no more than two steps when the kitchen door opened, and my dad came into the room.?  I kept my eyes down and hurried, painfully, out of his presence.

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I don??™t remember much about the next few days and weeks.?  I recall that I tried to stay away from my dad as much as possible.?  He never referred to that horrible evening, but I had a hard time regaining my sense of ease around him.?  It was weeks before I could look at him, and I think that he was uncomfortable with me for a while.?  Gradually, we re-established a relationship; but for a long time, I was afraid of what he might do should I displease him.?  That had never before been an issue.

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Some time later, I asked my mother why my dad had whipped me like he did.?  Tears formed in her eyes.?  It was several seconds before she answered me.

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???Honey, just a week or so before that happened, a little girl in Chicago was kidnapped.?  Her body was found a few days later, cut up in pieces and stuffed into a city garbage can.?  Her last name was Grimes, and she was six years old. They hadn??™t found the man who killed her.

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???When you didn??™t come home, your daddy went to every house we could think of, where you might be.?  He went to the Romine??™s, Cathy??™s, Sheila??™s, Sharon??™s, Shirley??™s, and he? ?  even drove into the country to Patty??™s house.?  No one had seen you.?  Then someone told him that they thought you had walked home with Ellen Kay.?  By the time your dad got to the Cunningham??™s house, you had already left.

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???Honey, your daddy was nearly crazy.?  He was afraid that someone had kidnapped you, and that we would never see you again.?  Can you understand why he was so upset, why we were all so scared?????  I nodded. Young as I was, I began to understand the magnitude of pain my parents had suffered because of my deceit. Even so, I never understood why my dad, who was my protector, who was supposed to keep me from harm, had beaten me as severely as he had.?  I still loved him, as children do; but yet, something had been broken, something precious??¦.

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This story is an excerpt from my latest novel, Wish I May, Wish I Might??¦? ? ?  While the book is classified as fiction, this particular story is totally true.?  It is the catalyst for another story and is used as a ???flashback??? in a chapter called ???Broken Pieces.???

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For many years, this memory troubled me, even haunted me when I recalled the violence of my father??™s punishment.?  Unfortunately, my dad and I never discussed that incident, so there was no opportunity for closure.? ?  At the age of forty-one, he died from complications of lupus.?  I was twenty-one, and the mother of a seven-month-old baby girl.

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I??™ve discovered that forgiveness must be granted to one who hurts or offends us, whether or not it is requested.?  In the chapter that contains this excerpt from my life, I created a confrontation between the character, Sissy, and her father, the surrogates for my father and me.?  At the age of sixteen, she questions her dad, demanding to know why he had beaten her so badly on that winter night.?  During that fictional conversation, if was as if I became Sissy; and I was able to say to her dad all the things I had been unable to say to my father.? ? 

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A beautiful thing happened.?  When?  ???Sissy??™s??? dad admitted that he had been unfair and asked her forgiveness, I heard the voice of my own young father asking for mine.?  I smelled his aftershave and his cigarettes.?  I saw his gray-blue eyes, saw his slightly crooked teeth and the beginnings of silver in his dark hair.

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The tears that fell down my face as I wrote that sequence of events were healing tears that washed away the lingering pain and resentment I had carried for over fifty years.?  The memory no longer has the power to hurt me.?  Forgiveness flows from me to my dad, in whatever realm of eternity he resides; and when I think of him, which is often, he is smiling at me with all the love I know he had for me as a child.?  I believe that his love still exists out there somewhere, and that his presence is sometimes with me, perhaps looking over my shoulder at the words that spring? ?  from my fingers.?  Forgiveness is the most healing, positive thing one person can bestow upon another, either from the giving or the receiving end.

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Barbara Elliott Carpenter writes for many online publications as well as other periodicals.?  The first book of the Starlight Series, Starlight, Starbright??¦, was released in 2003; and the second, Wish I May, Wish I Might??¦, in 2005.?  The third and final book of the trilogy, The Wish I Wish Tonight, is scheduled for release in 2006.?  The novels may be ordered through amazon.com and barnes&noble.com, as well as major bookstores.?  Carpenter??™s web site is: www.barbaraelliottcarpenter.com.

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