We climbed out of our black Caprice and we were warmly welcomed into the home of the Smith family. Mr. Rick was a round man with big glasses and a trucker hat. He greeted us with both with a Budweiser can in one hand and a cigarette in the other. During my stay there, I’d rarely see him without a beer and a cigarette. Mrs. Linda was nice and actually put her her cigarette down to greet us. I was introduced to Roxanne and Jason. Roxanne immediately took me back to her room and showed me ‘my room’. There were two twin bed in my room, on opposite walls, facing opposite directions. Mom would be sharing a room with me. My bed faced the bedroom door. Mom’s bed had a side table and a lamp. It was a clean and cozy space. We settled in for the night.
Roxanne and I played with our dolls and did all the little things little girls enjoy. She was a good friend to me and I enjoyed her company. We hosted tea parties with stuffed animals and played house. I’d go to my little room and dig through bags, looking for more of my own toys, only to realize that we’d left so much behind. They would ride bikes and my bike was back at home in Sulphur. I missed my things. After several days of us getting to know the Smith family, I picked up on this being more than a visit. I missed Odie and our tabby cat Snoozely and most of all, Dad. While getting dressed for bed one evening, I asked Mom when we were going home. She coldly chuckled and told me, “We are home for now little girl.” I asked if Daddy was coming to visit and she told me that he couldn’t know where we were or he would hurt her. No more conversation was had. We weren’t going back. I’d promised Daddy we would be back. He’d think I hurt him on purpose. The grief overwhelmed me and I cried. Mom gave me light pat on the back and left the room.
I knew he would’t kill her but hurt her, I couldn’t be certain. He was so sad to see us leave and he would want us to come back. I wanted to run away. My mind flashed back to Mom trying to stab Dad in the kitchen with the toaster plug, sitting in Dad’s little house while she broke the windows from outside and watching Dad pin Mom down on the floor by sitting on her chest and listening to her scream profanities. I knew it was all wrong but and that our family wasn’t happy but it was my normal. As an adult, I asked Dad about why he would sit on Mom like that, sit on her chest. He tells me that she was violent and it’s what he had to do to control her when she would go into a rage. Mom’s version paints Dad to be the bully, twice her size, who would pin her down and mock her. I’ll never who is telling the truth but I did witness it and either way, it was nothing a child should see. So, I believed Mom when she said he would hurt her. I’d seen them hurt each other time and time again. I understood Mom’s fear but the truth was I feared them both.
I especially feared where Mom chose to take us. The Smith family was not exactly a sanctuary for a small child. Mom began to leave me alone with the Smith family more and more as she looked for jobs, a place to live and a new boyfriend. I’d wake up most nights to look over at her bed and it would be empty. I have one memory of Mom even being at the house with me after the first few days. I’ll get to that shortly. Mr. Rick drank more beer than I’ve ever seen, even to this day. He and Mrs. Linda were chain smokers and the entire house was filled with clouds of smoke. Mr. Rick was far from the fatherly figure. He would yell at us. I have no memory of a conversation. Simply yelling at us to shut up or to finish our dinner. Mrs. Linda did not spare the rod. She used a fly swatter if I remember correctly. Since she had to feed me, I was always included in the line up when it was time to pay the piper. I don’t claim to be an innocent child but I have no memory of what she was spanking me for. She would line us up in the kitchen, facing towards the doorway that led to the hallway so when she was done, you could take your tears straight to your bedroom.
Their son, Jason, would attack Roxanne like a wild dog. He would throw her against the wall and choke her. He would ball up his fists and wail on her. He terrified me. He would punch me in the stomach, pull my hair or try to choke me against the wall but it was never what Roxanne had to endure. I pray that when she got older, she was able to defend herself. Looking back we were so little, Kindergarten and 1 st grade, being hit like this. He would tell me that my mom had left me and wasn’t coming back. If I’d run from him, he would drag me down the hall and to the front door, telling me to leave. As soon as my skin would heal from yesterday’s carpet burn, he was giving me a new one. I tried to fight him back. I thought because I would fight with my friend Chucky back home, that I could take Jason and that was a huge mistake. Unlike Chucky, Jason had no off switch and was not palling around. Jason wanted to hurt you. My one piece of revenge was when Roxanne and I covered the bottom of the tub with soap, hoping he would slip when he got in. It worked and Mr. Rick was livid at us. He knew what Jason did to us but that his boy and he could do no wrong inches eyes. Mr. Rick could not prove that we’d done it on purpose and neither of us budged on our story – that it was an accident. He wasn’t hurt too bad. After several weeks of dealing with Jason, I learned to avoid him. I played outside when he was home after school or stayed in my room.
Saving Elizabeth 