There's Madness in Every Family and Other Stories

By Caroline C. Spear

This collection of short stories follows a vaguely chronological journey through the modern American landscape. The stories reflect the themes of the sometimes brutal as well as humorous aspects of coming of age in America, the crisis of the individual who attempts to live an authentic life, and the realities of relationships between men and women.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 20, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477260746

Caroline C. Spear

Caroline C. Spear is the author of two novels, Computers Only Skin Deep and Black Eagle, Oregon. Her writing has appeared in numerous publications, won awards, and achieved national recognition. She earned a MBA from Clark University and a MAT from Boston College. She has taught high school English and Art for 18 years. Prior to that, she worked in high-tech around Boston for 15 years. Currently, she lives in Southern Oregon with her husband and two cats.

Book preview

THE HORSE

I want to cry.

I am lying very still. It is hot. I kick off the sheet. I look up and can see the big tree outside. No leaves move. It is still light outside. I can hear the voices of the other children. They are loud and excited. I listen to the voices, and then I hear the other sound. The sound I am waiting for, even though I have never heard it before.

Clomp. Clomp. Clomp. Clomp.

The horse is coming.

The horse is here.

I jump up. My pajamas stick to the back of my legs. I look through the screen, my hands on the windowsill. There it is! The horse!

It is big and brown and beautiful. A neighbor woman sits on top of the horse in a saddle. She is smiling down at the neighbor children.

Their parents shout, Get back! Get back!

The rider gets down with a graceful hop. She holds the reins near the horse’s head. She waves the children to come closer. She shows them how to pat the neck and the nose of the big brown beautiful horse.

Get into bed! NOW!

The voice of my mother hits me like a slap on the back of my head.

I jump back into bed. I pull the sheet up. I close my eyes tight.

You’re not fooling me, she says.

She comes over to my bed quickly. She tucks the sheet in around me tightly. I keep my eyes shut. She does not touch me.

Now go to sleep.

I keep my eyes shut until she leaves the room. I hear the voices of the other children. Some of them are shrill with fear. I would not be afraid of the horse. The horse is big and strong and beautiful. I would not be afraid to touch the horse or even to ride it. The horse would know me and would know that I am not afraid and would let me ride it.

I kick off the sheet. The door to my bedroom has been left slightly open. I do not care. I do not care because I do not belong to these people. They are not my real parents. They cannot be. Someday everyone will know and I will ride away on a big beautiful strong horse.

The voices outside get louder. I get up again to look out the window. Someone is being lifted up to sit on the back of the horse. It is Billy from across the street. He looks scared but he is smiling. His father holds his arm. His mother stands back, watching. The horse is pulled by the reins and begins to walk up the road.

All the children are running around yelling.

Some of them want to ride. Some of them think that they are not afraid.

I would not be afraid.

I hear footsteps in the hallway.

I leap back into bed and shut my eyes. The door is opened wider.

I said, ‘Stay in bed!’, says the voice of the woman who is pretending to be my mother. Next time, you get spanked!

She leaves.

It is still light outside. It is summer. Even the baby from two houses down is outside in her pajamas, being held in her mother’s arms.

YOU STUPID BITCH! I’VE TOLD YOU A MILLION TIMES NOT TO DO THAT!

I pull the sheet up to my chin and shut my eyes tighter. The voice of the man who is pretending to be my father is loud and mean. I hear quick footsteps in the hallway. My door is closed. I can still hear the mean and angry voice.

I wait, then jump up again and look out the window.

The horse is leaving.

All the children and their parents and a few dogs are walking up the road behind it. Like a parade. Now Susan with the single short braid down her back is riding the horse.

It should be me. I push my face against the screen to see. But they are at the turn in the road.

Clomp. Clomp. Clomp. Clomp.

The horse makes a beautiful noise as it leaves on the dirt road. Solid. Steady. I listen to the horse and not to the loud and angry voice.

I look out the window until I can see nothing but the empty road. I stay at the window, my face pushed against the screen. I listen to the outside voices and the sound of the horse leaving.

I lie down. Slowly and carefully, I pull the sheet up and smooth it all around me. I close my eyes lightly. I do not listen to the loud and angry voice in the other room.

I lie very still.

Finally when I pinch my eyes tight, tears trickle down the side of my face and fall on the white sheet.

THE YELLOW DRESS

The girl stood in the slant of early summer sun and waited for her mother to come out of the kitchen and take her photograph. Her mother had told her to go outside and wait. She had on her first party dress. She was going to her sixth grade graduation party at six o’clock where there was going to be dancing with boys in the gym. Her hair was dark blonde and parted on the side, making bangs that covered her forehead. Her eyes were dark blue, shaded with brown lashes. Her cheekbones were high and strong. Her dress was yellow.

The sunlight came in strong shafts from across the river. The light came without resistance through the broad leafed oaks, breaking onto the front lawn where she stood. She knew enough not to look directly into the sunlight because she had been told that it could blind, so she kept her eyelids at just the right angle to let in the light. She needed to concentrate on this because the light kept moving.

There you are, the mother spoke sharply.

Shaken, surprised by the entry of another person into her world, the young girl apologized, I’m where you told me to be.

The mother shook her head as if to deny this small truth and said, Alright now, you’re standing in the right place. Look up at me.

The mother aimed the Polaroid camera at the girl, looking down into the square lens long enough to locate her target. She took a few steps backwards.

Don’t move. Smile.

The young girl responded dutifully, smiling in the direction of her mother but not seeing her because she kept her head turned toward the slanted light. She would do what was asked of her and bravely, because she was born knowing that she would have to make her own way in the world without the aid or assistance of helpers. She knew this

because she had learned in her mother’s womb that she hadn’t been wanted.

All right. Let’s go, her mother demanded.

The girl felt guilty that her mother had to take her to this dance and didn’t know how to apologize. But she understood below her realizing it that her mother was excited to have her growing up and leaving. The girl wanted to please her even in this way. So she picked up her white sweater off the front porch, got quietly into the pale green station wagon, and waited for her mother to put the camera away and drive them to the dance.

The gym wasn’t decorated and the high overhead lights were on even though it was still light outside. There were folding chairs placed along three walls of the gym. Against the fourth wall was a man who sat next to a phonograph, playing records. The girl followed her mother to one side of the gym and sat down next to her, folding her hands in her lap.

Katharine, take your sweater off. It’s hiding your pretty dress, her mother spoke brusquely.

But the girl was pleased and did as she was told. She had been careful to hide from everyone how much she loved this dress. She had found it when shopping with her mother, looking for a dress to wear to her graduation. They were at the Pin Money Shop, the secondhand clothing store down behind the car dealership across the river. Katharine didn’t mind shopping at the secondhand store because she could get so much more than at a regular store, but she was careful to pretend she didn’t hear when anyone asked her where she got a skirt or sweater that she was wearing for the first time. But she knew her mother never lied about this fact and always told anyone who asked, the Pin Money Shop.

When she had pulled it down off the rack, her mother had told her to try it on along with two or three others. She had known immediately it was the right dress, but the girl did as she was told. When they had arrived home, her mother had gotten her shiny silver sewing scissors and had cut off the bows from the sleeves. This is too fussy, the mother had said.

The girl was just placing her white sweater neatly on the chair next to her when someone asked, Would you like to dance?

She looked up and smiled at Chad Kellogg. He had been in her class since the first grade. When they had all snuck off at recess to play spin-the-bottle in the woods, she had wished that the bottle would stop at Chad when it was her turn. It didn’t, but he pushed the other boy out of the way so that he could kiss her quickly on the mouth. They had been in the same dancing class after school in the YMCA gym on Tuesdays. There they had to wear white gloves.

Go ahead, her mother admonished. Hello, Chad.

Hello, he replied.

Katharine danced the foxtrot with Chad Kellogg across the gym floor and loved the way her yellow dress floated around her. She loved the way her patent leather shoes sparkled beneath her bare tanned legs. She loved the way his hand was placed just so in the middle of her back and how he looked so serious as he led her through the box steps.

Katharine smiled at Chad Kellogg and told him he looked nice in his tie. This made Chad Kellogg smile and he told her she looked pretty in her yellow dress. Remembering her mother, she looked guiltily over where they had been sitting. In a brief panic that her mother had left, (because she knew without understanding that her mother had wanted to leave her many times), she found her mother talking with two other mothers. When the music stopped, Chad asked Katharine to dance again and she smiled yes.

While she was dancing a foxtrot with Chad Kellogg, she saw Craig Johnson come up behind him and tap him on the shoulder to cut in. The boys had been taught in dancing class at the YMCA that it was all right to do this as long as they tapped in a certain way and were polite. Chad looked annoyed, but stepped away and she found herself dancing with Craig Johnson. She noticed that his hand felt different on her back and that she had to look up at him. She also told him that he looked nice in his tie. Craig Johnson told her that she looked pretty in her yellow dress.

The girl noticed that there were many girls sitting in the chairs around the gym. She noticed the boys were mostly standing together in a big group near the phonograph, pushing each other and laughing once in a while. Only a few boys and girls were dancing across the gym floor. The mothers were sitting away from their daughters or standing near the door they had opened to the outside. She looked for her mother and noticed she had moved her seat again and was now sitting by herself.

She felt sad that her mother was sitting alone, so when the music stopped she thanked Craig Johnson and went over to sit with her mother.

"What is it?’ her mother asked.

Nothing, the girl said, I just want to sit for a while.

Don’t be silly, her mother hissed, seeing right through her. I don’t need you to sit with me. Go back and dance some more. It only goes for another hour.

The girl insisted, No. I really want to sit for a while. And she sat there for a few minutes with her mother who wouldn’t talk to her. Finally, she got up and walked toward the boys and girls who were standing near the table where they had Hawaiian Punch poured into white and blue paper cups.