The Owl Is Calling

By Tami Kent

The Owl is Calling is based on a true story. It is about a family that is enduring pysical, mental and drug abuse like so many other families in the world. The book was written so other people don't feel alone when reading the book. And the author thought it was a story to be told. The story ends in tragedy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Nov 5, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452073439

Book preview

The Owl is Calling

Tami Kent

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AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

© 2010 Tami Kent. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 11/1/2010

ISBN: 978-1-4520-7343-9 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4520-7342-2 (sc)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2010913312

Printed in the United States of America

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 1

AS I SIT HERE WATCHING my eight month old daughter playing in her playpen, my three year old son is still sleeping. I made a promise to myself; they will not go through what I had as a child mainly because they have a terrific daddy. Not like my sister, three brothers (Winston, Eddie, and Mikey), and me who was the oldest.

Daddy came home with his buddies. They were getting ready for the boxing matches that were set up between my two brothers: Winston and Edward at the time. Dad and his buddies would bet on which one would win the fight. Edward was a big boy, and Winston was little, very little, because he was a premature baby of three pounds when he was born. He was in the hospital for two months after birth. That did not matter to Daddy; he wouldn’t like it if Edward punched. Winston would get a beaten if he punched Edward because he was younger. Daddy would bet on Edward and knew he would win. That was one way of making a few extra dollars.

The match would start. Mom had to make popcorn and sandwiches, and bring beers while the two sons were made to beat the heck out of each other. Mom couldn’t say anything because she would get it from Daddy. The guys just loved it. I hated it, and I would just sit and cry and cry. Edward would end up with black eyes; bloody nose, busted lips, and bruises all over. Winston would be praised. Neither one liked it any more than the other at first, but soon Edward started to enjoy the fighting. Winston would not even try to fight.

I loved both my brothers, but I started to favor Winston because of Edward’s attitude. He became a real bully towards Winston and me and wouldn’t listen to Mom. Mom would tell me to stay in the kitchen so I did not have to see my brothers fighting. I also would not have to see Daddy and his buddies acting like it was the greatest thing. That’s how Daddy spent his time with his sons. I can remember him saying that he was teaching them to be men.

Chapter 2

THE TIME WITH HIS DAUGHTER was different. I was his pride and joy, he would tell everyone that. I have to admit I liked it. Daddy was Indian, and I looked more Indian than he did. He would call me his little papoose. Daddy would tell Mom to get me ready. Mom did not ask why anymore. I remember the first time Mom threw a fit and didn’t want to let Daddy take me anywhere in his condition. Daddy beat Mom bad and told her he’d take me anywhere, anytime. He said it was none of her business where he was taking me.

I kept my mouth shut. I loved both Mom and Dad. I loved going with Daddy, mostly because Daddy would have fun. The only time I saw him happy was when he took me to the bars with him. He bought me pop, candy, chips, gum - anything I wanted. He’d put me on the bar and tell me to dance. I’d dance. Then he’d tell the bartender to watch me. I’d watch Daddy play pool with his buddies and dance with all the women in the bar.

I sat there and watched for hours, feeling so lonely. Daddy wouldn’t come and check on me. The bartender gave me anything I wanted. Daddy would pay at the end of the night.

I wondered that night sitting there in the bar how Mom was, how bad she was beaten. I hadn’t checked on Mom because I would have started crying. Sitting there I felt so far away from Mommy. I wanted to go to her, but I knew the longer Daddy and I were out the safer Mom and the boys were. At 5 I loved going with Daddy and being bragged about. But that night I felt I had betrayed Mom, because Dad had wanted me to go with him and she had got a beaten because of me. I was very close to Mom, but that night I felt very far away from her.

Daddy finally came to find me sleeping somewhere. He finally wanted to go home. I was dreading facing Mom, and hoping that Daddy wouldn’t get in a bad mood again and beat Mom more. I didn’t know how bad Mom had got it either, so my stomach knotted at the thought of what she might look like because of me.

It was late when we got home. Daddy went straight to bed. I was thankful for that. I can’t remember where I found Mom. All I can remember was her words and what she looked like. My stomach knotted when I saw her. She had a black eye and a fat lip. All she said was, You must be tired; go to bed. I went to sleep crying.

Chapter 3

THINGS CHANGED WHEN MY LITTLE brother Mikey came. The boxing matches quit. Daddy didn’t beat Mommy. I stayed home with Mom, but I still didn’t feel as close to her as before. Daddy still went out, but he only took me on weekends because I had started school. Daddy also got a job at a greenhouse and brought Mom flowers once in awhile - usually after they had had an argument.

I was very nervous in first grade, I didn’t want to go. I wanted to stay with Mom. I was afraid something terrible would happen to her, and if she would need me I wouldn’t be there.

I barely got through first grade. The terrible beatings started again. Mom would leave occasionally, but Dad always found us. Mom went to her sister, Beth, every time. One night stands out in my mind because it was the night before Easter morning. I can remember Mom happily boiling eggs in a big, huge pot for Winston, Edward, me, and her to decorate. Shirley was too young, and Mom was pregnant. My Aunt Mary came rushing in yelling, You’re going with me! Winston is out drinking and badmouthing you, saying terrible things, Mom didn’t want to go. Aunt Mary started grabbing everything, saying, If you stay here he’s going to cause you to lose the baby. You’re not staying here. After that comment Mom went willingly. There wasn’t any trouble with us kids going; we were all for it.

It was the best Easter I ever had. We were with family, and everyone was happy. How we ever went back I can’t remember because I’ve blocked it out. I didn’t want to go back.

Our little brother was born June 4th. Summer vacation started, and things looked better most of the time. That summer vacation actually was one of the worst all the way around. Daddy took me always when he could. He’d say, Now, I have my little girl back. He was so proud of me. He’d tell everyone I was his pride and joy. He continued to take me to the bars, and he’d make me dance with him and dance on the bar. It wasn’t the same. I was embarrassed. Daddy would get upset because I didn’t want to dance, and he’d simply say, If you won’t dance with me, I’ll find someone who will. He wasn’t understanding at all. He didn’t care why I didn’t want to dance. Everyone would watch me. So he just danced with every girl available, along with a lot of touching and kissing. Then he’d tell the bartender to watch me; he’d pick up the bill later. Then he’d disappear for a while.

I was way too young to understand what was going on, but I wasn’t too young to wonder why Mom and Dad never kissed or danced like that. It seemed to make Daddy happy. I always ended up wondering what Mom was doing at home. I’d sigh and think, At least she’s safe. Then I’d go to sleep.

One night on our way home a car was following us. I didn’t know who it was. I just remembered Daddy saying awful things and yelling for me to get down. He yelled, Don’t get up until I come to the truck. Make sure it’s Daddy before you unlock the door. I remember the parking lot slightly lit up. Daddy locked the doors and went over to meet three guys. I was so scared. What was I going to do? There was three of them and only one of Daddy. I was scared for both of us. They started fighting, and I could hear the smacks. I just knew Daddy would be lying there, or unable to get me home where I longed to be. Finally I heard a thud, then nothing. I wondered who it was, but I didn’t move. Please let it be Daddy," was all I could think. He did a lot of bad things, but I loved him.

A key started to unlock the door, so I looked up and saw Daddy. There was blood all over his face. I felt very bad for him, but I was glad to see him. He told me to stay down. I didn’t understand why. I thought everything was OK. Daddy started the truck, and I got up. Daddy squealed out trying to get out of there fast. I looked over to where I heard the smacks before Daddy drove away. There was still a man lying there. I was puzzled. Daddy didn’t know that I saw the man lying there, and I asked who the men were. Daddy said, What men? They were bad men, and you forget about them. You don’t tell anyone about it, not even Mommy. I knew not to tell by the tone of his voice, so I never told anyone.

Next day it was in the paper that a man was beaten to death. Mom was telling her friend Gayle who lived down the street about Daddy coming home all beat up. Mom wondered if Daddy was responsible. Hearing that, I knew he was. I was more terrified than ever of Daddy. Mom asked me questions, and I told her I didn’t know anything. I hated lying to her, but Daddy’s tone of voice rang in my head and scared me. So I kept my mouth shut, and I also became quiet all the time.

I got a job down at my mom’s friend Gayle’s. It made me feel grown up, and it was something to keep my mind off things for a little while. I wanted to stay at Gayle’s. I went to work with Daddy a lot also. He would help me water all the plants and move them to different places. I had a lot of fun with Daddy then, and I started to feel close to Daddy again. When we’d get home I’d help Mom with supper and the dishes, and I’d feel close to Mom also.

By the time Daddy and I would get home, Daddy was exhausted. He’d usually go straight to bed; this was a blessing.

I liked it at the greenhouse; it was fun taking care of the plants. It would also be the turning point between Daddy and me again. Daddy would give me a dollar once in a while and tell me, Go to the store and spend the whole dollar. I thought that was great. I’d walk down to the store and buy penny candy. I’d share it with my brothers and sister at home.

On the way back to the greenhouse I’d eat some of the candy and drink my pop and save some of the rest for when I got home. When I’d get back to the greenhouse I’d have to look for Daddy. I’d find him in a little office kissing some girl. Daddy wouldn’t notice me, and I’d go take care of the plants.

After that night with the men, Daddy quit taking me as much to the bars with him. I didn’t care because I was relieved to stay at home with Mom. l got to know my brothers and sister all over again. When Daddy was gone they didn’t seem to care when he’d be back. They acted like they didn’t know anything that was going on. That’s how I became too, except when nighttime rolled around. My stomach would knot up knowing he’d be home shortly. He seemed meaner now since he didn’t take me with him.

Mom would send my brothers and sister to bed early, about 9 o’clock, and let me stay up with her. The later it got the more my stomach knotted. When Mom heard the truck scream up the road, she’d tell me to run upstairs and stay in bed. She’d put her finger to her mouth and whisper, Don’t make a sound. Instantly I was scared. Shirley and I shared a big double bed; Winston and Edward shared another double bed all in the same room. They would always be fast to sleep, and very seldom would they wake up. I envied them. I would cover my head so I couldn’t hear, but it didn’t work. I knew what was happening; Mom was getting beat. Questions started running through my head. What should I do? What does Mom want me to do? And then I answered myself, I remembered that Mom told me to stay in bed and not make a sound, so that’s what I did. It took a long time to fall asleep. I’d fall asleep listening to Mom cry and Daddy snoring like nothing happened. I’d want to go to Mom, but I was afraid he’d wake up and start all over again.

I’d get up the next morning. Daddy would already have gone to work. Mom would be all beat up and real quiet. You could tell she was very sore and hurt. I couldn’t stand it and would ask to go down to Gayle’s. My brothers and sister always played in the playroom or outside making mud pies. I’d hide at Gayle’s. Mom kept doing what she usually did. I started helping her more, and I started dreading Daddy.

I still went to work at least once a week with Daddy, but I can’t say that I enjoyed it. He messed around with the women. When he knew I’d seen him he’d tell me, Don’t tell Mommy! Don’t tell Mommy! I couldn’t understand why he was so mean to Mommy. She never did anything I didn’t tell on him. l was the only one who got any kind of decent treatment. At least he took me places with him. Mom got his attention from beatings. My brothers and sister never got any attention at that time. I was so confused I didn’t know who had it the worst. I think Mom did. Mom protected my brothers and sister by putting them to bed early at night and by leaving them in bed till Daddy went to work. Mom didn’t know anything I was going through; I wanted to tell her, but I couldn’t.

My stomach would knot up when Daddy wanted me to go to work with him. I didn’t want to see him treating the women so nice any more. This one last and final time would be the end of me going to work with Daddy. It would also be the turning point between Daddy and me. He gave me a dollar and sent me to the store. I didn’t even feel like spending it; I knew what he was doing - he was getting rid of me for a while.

When I got back I couldn’t believe my eyes. Daddy didn’t have any clothes on. He was kissing this woman while he was undressing her. She already had her top off, and he was working on her skirt. He was helping her wiggle out of it. I was so ashamed and disgusted; he didn’t know I’d seen him. I went out and sat for a while. When I got home I was very quiet, and Mom knew something was going on. I told her that nothing was wrong. I knew I didn’t want to go to work with him anymore, but I was afraid to say why.

It was a bright day, and it was my seventh birthday. Daddy was working, supposedly.

Chapter 4

I WAS MOPING AROUND, AND Mom took me aside. She said, I know it’s got to do with your dad, so tell me what’s going on. Finally I told Mom the whole story. Mom put her head down like she was relieved. She was hurt because I had seen it, and she was being cheated on. I was shaking and begging Mom not to tell Daddy I told her. I told that he’d beat me. Mom called Gayle, and told her the whole story. Mom asked Gayle if I could stay there for a while. So I was on my way to Gayle’s. Mom was afraid for me; I could tell.

I went down to Gayle’s. I felt both relieved and very scared. Gayle told me Mom was baking me a birthday cake. She talked about happy things. I started to calm down; it seemed like I was there for hours. Mom called Gayle to see how I was doing and to tell Gayle he’d be home soon. Mom warned Gayle not to let him take me anywhere. Gayle asked about the other kids. She said they’d be fine; he didn’t pay much attention to them.

We lived on top of the hill, and Gayle lived halfway up the hill. It was in Mahoning town. I’ll never forget the house. There were too many memories - bad memories. I heard Daddy’s truck going up to home. My stomach knotted. I knew he hadn’t been drinking yet, because he was coming home from work. I was still scared.

It seemed like hours since I’d first heard the truck go up home. I wondered if Mom was OK. I told myself that she should be because he hadn’t been drinking yet. I knew they were fighting though; I also knew that if Mom didn’t get beat today she would within the week. It was a matter of waiting it out; this made my stomach knot up again. .

The phone rang at Gayle’s. It was Mom; I could tell because Gayle got nervous. Gayle told Mom sternly, I’ll take care of it, and hung up. I remember shaking. Minutes later Daddy was pounding at the door, yelling, Let me in! I want to talk to that little back stabber! He said, Open the door, or I’ll bust it down! Gayle opened the door and said, Don’t you touch a hair on her head!" Daddy stepped inside and looked at me very mean. If looks could kill, I’d have been dead. I was glad at that point that he hadn’t been drinking; there wouldn’t have been any stopping him.

He might as well have beaten me because of the words he said. They cut me like a knife. He called me a back stabber a couple of times. He screamed at me, How could you lie about me to your mother and make up stories about me! I started to say, You did do it. He didn’t want to listen. He cut me off by saying, Shut up! I don’t want to hear a word from you. Furthermore I disown you as a daughter. You’re no daughter of mine if you can lie to your mother and cause so much trouble. Before he slammed out the door he sneered at me, Don’t ever call me Daddy again. You’re no daughter of mine. I was crushed and trembling. I couldn’t get over what he said, and didn’t for a long time.

Gayle called Mom and told her what had happened. Mom asked Gayle to keep me for a while till this blew over. Gayle said she would and sent me up home to get some clothes.

Mom was crying; so was I. I told her it was all my fault; I shouldn’t have told her. She said that I had done the right thing. I didn’t feel that I had done the right thing though.

Everything was such a mess.

Mom gave me my clothes and told me to stay down Gayle’s. She said she would call when she could. What about you, Mommy? I said. She said, Don’t worry me; I’ll be Okay. She wasn’t too convincing, and I was scared for her.

I kept listening for the truck to go home that night for a long time. I never heard it; I woke up the next morning hearing Mom’s voice and a lot of noise. I thought, Mom never goes to Gayle ‘s. Why was she here? I soon learned he never came home last night. He was in the hospital because he totaled his truck. I blamed myself. I thought that if I hadn’t have told on him he might not have gotten so drunk and wrecked his truck. I felt terrible for him, but then I thought at least Mom didn’t get beat over me again.

There was no reason for me to stay at Gayle ‘s, so Mom took me home. I can’t remember how long he was in the hospital, but it was a while. It was peaceful at home until he came home. I couldn’t bring myself to call him Daddy anymore since he had said that I wasn’t his daughter any longer. He lost his job at the greenhouse, which was very rough. I can remember eating just peas for supper.

School would be starting soon; only I wouldn’t be walking alone anymore because my brother was going to first grade. I was going into second grade. I got a couple new dresses from Granny; that’s my first memory of Granny. She worked at a little diner in Motown called Mary’s; Mom would send Winston and me for lunch instead of packing lunch for school. They didn’t serve lunch at school. You either packed a lunch or went home, but Mom sent us to lunch with Granny at the diner. Granny is my Dad’s mom. and I enjoyed going to meet Granny at lunch. She’d give us doughnuts or cookies and hot cocoa after we had eaten our lunch. She was real nice. She didn’t like us walking that long distance to and from school though. She always told us to be careful. She’d say, "Don’t talk to no one or take anything from no one except when you come to the diner for lunch. We promised her we wouldn’t, and we never did.

We missed a lot of school that year, mainly because of him and his drinking. He would come home very late drunk, beat Mom, and she wouldn’t be able to get us off to school. He got another job at a gas station called "Tony’s Place. He was very good - very good with cars. He and Jack were two of a kind for the most part. They would work at the station and be drinking buddies at night.

It was a school night, not long after school had started. It was the first night he had gone out drinking since that terrible day that I had told on him and the accident. It was midnight, and Mom told me that I should go to bed for school. I told her no, because I wouldn’t sleep anyway. I had an eerie feeling that something terrible was going to happen with me because he had never gotten even with me for telling on him. I knew he hadn’t forgotten about it because he didn’t say one word to me or look at me since it had happened. I knew he was out drinking; so did Mom. I also knew this night would be a terrible night because of what I had done. I was living on pins and needles.

We heard the truck screaming up the road. I started shaking as Mom pushed me up the steps telling me to go to bed, don’t make a sound, and stay in bed. My brothers and sister were sleeping as usual. I was shaking so bad. I was afraid he would hear because the bed was shaking too. I heard the front door slam. I starting shaking more, saying in my mind, Please don’t let him beat Mommy. She doesn’t deserve it. I said it over and over. I don’t know who I was talking to.

I heard him ask for his supper. Something was wrong with it, because I heard it going up against the kitchen wall. I heard him ask where the little traitor was. I hid under the covers at that point, knowing the covers wouldn’t save me if he wanted me. I heard Mom telling him I was sleeping. He started on her about believing me. Mom didn’t say anything; she was better off that way. He said, I’m going to get that little traitor and make her tell you she’s lying.

Then I heard a bunch of banging. I knew Mom was getting beat because of me. I don’t know what she said or why he didn’t come up for me, but I felt terrible because of Mom. I was beginning to hate him. I fell asleep to the house quiet except for Mom crying and him snoring.

I strolled downstairs feeling very ashamed and dreading to see what Mom looked like. I thought he was at work, but to my surprise he wasn’t. I heard his voice saying, "I’m sorry. I’ll never do it again. I went quietly back to my room until I heard the doors close and his truck leave. I knew Mom must be pretty bad for him to say he was sorry.

The kitchen was a mess. Broken glass was everywhere. His supper was all over the place, along with some of Mom’s blood. Standing there crying, looking at the mess, I could hear my brothers and sister in the playroom and the soap opera on the TV in the living room. I thought that’s where Mom must be. Mom was bad all right; she just sat and stared at the TV. Both eyes were black; she had a fat lip and a swollen nose. She didn’t bother getting dressed or combing her hair. She looked bad because of me was all I could think of.

Chapter 5

HE DIDN’T DRINK FOR A little while after that. He went to play pool with his buddies, at least that’s what he said he was doing. He still didn’t talk or look my way. After being his pride and joy, now I was his worst enemy. He made it like I did the wrong, and he did nothing wrong because I told on him. I was very ashamed, and he didn’t feel anything. According to him, I was lying and had made it up. I thought he hated me. How could a seven year old think any different?

After a while, I learned to cope with it, stay out of his sight, and ignored him back.

He was doing so well with not drinking — a couple here and there — and then unexpectedly one night the truck screamed up the hill. I froze; Mom instantly told me to go to bed. I ran up the steps. I listened; I heard the truck door slam. It was taking a long time for him to get to the house. I wondered why I hadn’t heard the door slam yet. I was already shaking, and my stomach was in knots. I knew my brother and me probably wouldn’t go to school the next day either.

I heard the front door shut, not slam, but shut, which was unusual. He ate his supper that Mom warmed over and over during the night. Everything was quiet, and I wondered what was wrong. Then I heard Mom and footsteps coming up the steps. At the top of the steps I heard a thud. It was him. I heard him tell Mom to grab a spoon so that he wouldn’t swallow his tongue. Mom, knowing I wasn’t sleeping, yelled, Tami, Go get a spoon! I had to go around him to get downstairs. I was shocked at what I saw; he was totally out of control. He was shaking really bad; his eyes were rolling in his head. He was beat red in the face and sweating. I got a spoon, and she stuck it in his mouth, trying to stop him from swallowing his tongue. I didn’t understand, so I started yelling, What’s wrong with him! Mom said, He’s having a seizure from drinking. I still didn’t understand, but Mom sounded like she knew what was wrong, so I just stood there and watched him, not believing my eyes. Mom was crying. I couldn’t cry or do anything but stand there and wonder if he’d ever quit shaking.

I couldn’t tell how long the seizure lasted, but he just lay there unable to get up. He told Mom first thing, Send her to bed. I went to bed, but I could still see everything going on from my bed. He lay there for a while totally drained and as white as a ghost. Mom was still crying as she helped him up and into bed. I didn’t sleep for a long time; I kept listening for him to start on Mom. It was strange him being drunk and not beating Mom. At seven I just didn’t understand.

I wasn’t doing very well in school. We missed so much school. I can remember the teacher telling Mom that I had a nerve problem. She said, Tami is very quiet. She does annoying things, like tapping her pencil or foot. She plays with her hair. When I ask her a question, her mind is elsewhere. She is a disturbed little girl."

Granny came to visit, and Mom told her what the teacher had said. Granny took me to the doctor on her day off from the diner. Mom stayed home with my brothers and sister. Granny asked me questions about things at home. I felt I could talk to her, so I told her about the beatings and him having a few seizures. I didn’t tell her or anyone about him and his girls. I was still too ashamed to talk to anyone about it.

The doctor prescribed nerve medicine morning and night. When he found out (he saw the bottle in the cupboard) he asked Mom what it was. She told him that it was nerve medicine. He got mad. He said, Don’t you know she’s faking, just trying to get attention? Mom didn’t say anything; she knew she couldn’t.

The nerve medicine would make me sleepy. Mom would send the other kids to bed. She couldn’t put me to bed because I would cry. I would be scared for Mom when he was out late. My crying would keep my brothers and sister up too. That’s how I began to stay up so late with Mom. After my brothers and sister were in bed Mom would give me my nerve medicine, then I would watch TV on the couch and fall asleep. I’d wake up in the morning not knowing anything about the night before. Sometimes Mom would have black eyes, fat lips, lumps on her head, patches of hair missing, and the kitchen a mess.

Sometimes he was too drained to go to work from one of his seizures. The nerve medicine helped me to miss a lot. I was thankful not to hear it or see him have seizures. But the problem was still there. Mom still got beat, he still had seizures, and he still hated me.

He caused us to get way behind on our rent payments because of the work he missed. Most of the money he did make went to booze. We couldn’t afford decent meals either. We got evicted from our home. It was the middle of the school year. It was still cold outside. Gayle was worried about Mom moving so far away. But Mom reassured her she’d probably be better off because Granny lived no more than half a mile down from our new home.

We moved from Motown to Lakewood Beach in East brook. We took a bus to and from school. We were moving into a new life, new home, new school, and new friends. Best of all, we were close to Granny.

Lakewood Beach was a lively place. It was a dance hall. On Friday and Saturday night they had rock concerts. On Wednesday and Sunday nights they had Polka dances. On Tuesday and Thursday they had auctions. The place was really hopping. Everything seemed brighter. We lived in the house right behind the dance hall.

We got moved in. The house had three bedrooms, so we didn’t all sleep in the same room anymore. The boys got a room, and my sister and I shared a room off from the living room. There was a laundry room, kitchen, and a bath. My little brother Mike was still in a room with Mom and Dad. I was still on nerve medicine. Dad lost his job at the gas station. We became friends with the owner of the dance hall. The owner, Rick, was a guy who didn’t drink. He had a daughter my age. He knew Dad was out of work, so he offered him a job helping run the dance hall. He accepted.

Chapter 6

WINSTON AND I GOT UP Monday morning. Mom helped us get ready for school. She walked down to the bus stop with us. We were excited, but scared. It was a bit of a walk to the bus stop, but it didn’t compare to walking to school in Motown. We never rode a bus or even heard of a bus before this.

At the bus stop there was a whole clan of new faces. We knew one person out of fifteen - that was the owner of the dance hall’s daughter Sue. What was worse she acted like she didn’t know us either. Mom made sure we got on the bus and then we watched her walk back home. My little brother and I sat together while listening to the other kids make fun of us because Mom walked us to the bus stop. Sue didn’t say a word, but she just laughed along with the other kids. Suddenly, when we got to our new school, Hickory Heights, I wished I were back in Motown. I didn’t know this place at all, and no one would help - not even Sue. And I thought Sue was a friend.

Mom told me to make sure I got my little brother to his room first. She said to go to the office, and they would help me. I went to the wrong room - actually I went to the first room I came to for help. I wasn’t about to ask any of the other kids for help. They were all busy and didn’t notice us. I wanted to keep it that way as long as possible. A teacher named Miss Stowe helped us. I told her that my mom told me to make sure my brother got to his class. So she took my brother to his room. The principal of the school was also my brother’s teacher - Mrs. Stine. A lump formed in my stomach. I was alone, not knowing anyone or where to go. Winston was safe in his room, and I was left to face my class. I wanted to run.

Mrs. Stowe took me to my room. Everyone was already seated and ready to start class. I was embarrassed that I had to make a grand entrance with Mrs. Stowe. It wasn’t bad enough that Mom had to walk us to the bus stop; now I was being escorted to class by a teacher. I knew I’d get teased again. The class was noisy - whispering and snickering. I knew they were making fun of me. Mrs. Stowe left and my teacher, Mrs. Shawn, stood me in front of the class and introduced me to the class. There was one empty seat left just for me, and I hurried to it. After I was seated, Mrs. Shawn made each student individually stand up and introduce themselves to me. I was very nervous and embarrassed. I wondered if Winston was going through the same thing.

The teacher gave us all paper and a pencil. I wondered what she wanted us to draw. She started doing something on the blackboard. Mrs. Stowe gave us instructions to write our name on top and follow along with the alphabet on our paper with her. She said to print the best we could.

I was totally lost. I had no idea how to write my name - let alone the alphabet. I knew my name, but had never been shown how to write it. I just followed along with what she was doing on the blackboard. Mrs. Stowe was finished with the alphabet and began collecting our papers. She gave the class instructions to get out their reading books. I sat there frozen. Mrs. Stowe was standing at my desk. She went to get my paper and noticed no name. She reminded me to write my name. I tried to tell her I didn’t know how to write my name