Father's Teachings

By P. J. Suskey

Jenny Eden was a girl who had to endure physical and
mental cruelty all her life. Jenny and her family lived on
the fl atlands of Kansas not far from the Colorado border.
Jennys family was in jeopardy when children around her area
began to disappear and her father was suspected. As Jenny
got older she fell in love with two men, one who left her and
the other one she had to kill. In this horror/mystery novel you
will read about how she had to fi ght to survive the only way she
knew how--with guts and determination.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 16, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499011708

Book preview

Father’s Teachings

P. J. Suskey

Copyright © 2014 by P. J. Suskey.

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-4990-1171-5

      eBook          978-1-4990-1170-8

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 05/07/2014

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

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CONTENTS

Chapter One   My Loving Family

Chapter Two   Lunch Anyone?

Chapter Three   Mind Over Matter

Chapter Four   My Friend

Chapter Five   Sweet Justice

Chapter Six   Daddy’s Girl

Chapter Seven   Tying Up Loose Ends

Chapter Eight   Love Me or Leave Me

Chapter Nine   Hobo Heaven

Chapter Ten   Teach Them Young’uns

Chapter Eleven   Reverse Roles

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my father, Arliss E. Suskey, for without whom I would not have the sense of humor, fortitude, stubbornness, and determination to help see me through some hardships and trials of my life, one of which is to be a cancer survivor. My father had very little formal education but he was one of the smartest men I’ve ever known.

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CHAPTER ONE

My Loving Family

I’m a young woman, although I feel as though I were in my senior years. I have blonde hair, just past my shoulders, blue eyes, a good figure, even conceivably on the verge of being beautiful. So why am I sitting on a bed in a lonely hotel room staring at a dingy wall? That’s the question I had to ask myself as my mind swept back over a lifetime of memories. It wasn’t often I allowed myself to look back. It wasn’t often I wanted to. There was just something about that dingy wall that took me back. Something had ahold of my brain and it was forcing the memories to come flooding forward, some of which I had hoped I had left behind and forgotten.

I had to wonder how far back in other people’s past could they remember. I can recollect back when I was about the age of four, maybe a little younger, but then, I guess I had a memorable childhood in comparison with the average American girl’s. Thinking back, I suppose the main people who stand out the most in my past would be my mother, followed closely by my grandmother. This was not due to family love and kindness. No, more so due to an odd occurrence of events coupled with emotional and physical cruelty. My memories took place at our home, mostly. A home that was supposed to be very safe for a child to grow up in, a home that was supposed to be a loving and nurturing place; mine was anything but that.

Our cabin wasn’t considered large, yet it somehow seemed big enough for all of us. By all of us I mean my father, mother, grandmother, my brother and myself. I remember how it was hidden in the middle of the Kansas flatlands by a fairly large wooded area that surrounded a big lake nearby. The memories that lay within that cabin could never by denied by me, such as the one memory of when I was about four and was romping through the cabin.

Grandma opened her door and stepped into the kitchen. I ran past her and into her bedroom. Suddenly, realizing where I had run, I stopped dead in my tracks. Her and Mother had always scolded me and lectured me about entering Grandma’s bedroom. It was a strange looking bedroom. As I entered the door I saw a rather large wooden cross hanging directly over Grandma’s bed straight ahead of me. As I looked to the right where the window was I could see part of the smokehouse a little ways away. Turning my head to the left was her large dresser with a lot of jars on it with all kinds of powders and strange creepy things in other jars. She had a large circle painted on the floor beside her bed with strange symbols all around it. They had told me she had too many precious breakables in there for a clumsy child to be around. After a moment, my cool blue eyes became curiously fixed on the signs and symbols on the wall in front of me. They appeared to be wooden carvings of some sort. A quick glance had revealed a cross on the wall over Grandma’s big feather bed. It was different than the one at Grandpa’s grave; different but the same. Grandma’s had fallen up-side-down.

Jenifer Eden! Ya git yurr butt outta my room right this minute! Grandma’s voice snapped.

All too well I recognized the iron clamp of her hand around my arm as she pulled me out of her room. When she closed the door behind me, her hand came down slapping me across the face and sending me flying across the kitchen.

Yurr room’s funny lookin’ Grandma.

Yurr daddy should’a never learned you to talk so much so soon. Git outta here and go play! she shouted as she shoved me toward the door of the cabin.

I swear, Mary, ya and Joe should’a never had that girl. She’s nothin’ but trouble.

I know, Ellen, yurr right, Mother responded in front of the counter of the kitchen area, but what can I say? She’s ‘Daddy’s little angel’ as far as he’s concerned.

I suppose I remember that incident so vividly because it was the first time I recall seeing the wooden figures and the up-side-down cross on her walls. Little did I know, it certainly wouldn’t be the last. I remember the next time I saw her room was almost a year later. I awoke from a sound sleep and sat straight up in bed. It took a moment to realize what had happened to cause me to awaken. Then I heard the strange noise again. It sounded like a loud moaning noise. I’d heard it before but this time it got really loud. I climbed out of bed and down the ladder from the loft, where my bed was, to follow the sound. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard it but this time curiosity got the best of me. I simply had to know what it was. The wooden floor was cold and rough against my bare feet. Shivers went right through my back under my white flannel nightgown. It wasn’t until I got to the foot of the ladder that I realized the noise was coming from Grandma’s room.

As I tip-toed quietly toward her door, I glanced to my left to make sure Mother and Father’s bedroom door was closed. The closer I got to Grandma’s room, the more intense the moaning became. I didn’t understand at the time what that sound meant. Just as I was about to reach for the door latch, a loose board in the flooring gave out a hideous squeak which I was sure would wake everyone in the cabin. I stood frozen for a moment afraid even to breathe. After what seemed to be hours, I realized no one had heard me and dared to move forward. My hand was trembling as I reached for the latch to her door and slowly lifted it. I pushed the door open just enough to see Grandma standing on the other side of her bed facing away from me. Quickly I covered my mouth to keep from letting out any sound. It was astonishing to see Grandma standing there stark naked. She was holding a strange-looking glass out in front of her with both hands. The glass had something red in it. She tilted the glass and held it to her lips. As she drank the red liquid, I noticed the fluid must have been very thick because it oozed ever so slowly past the glass and into her mouth. It was then that I decided to sneak on into the room and watch whatever Grandmother was doing. I crouched down and crept into the room. As I took my hiding place under her giant bed, she suddenly let out a blood-curdling moan and began moving around a weird circle that had been drawn on the floor. I had seen Mother and Father dance a time or two before, but this was the first time I had ever seen anyone dance naked by themselves. Lying on my back under Grandma’s bed, I watched her legs moving around and listened to her carrying on and on into the night for what seemed to be for hours.

Unexpectedly, I awoke to hear the train whistling way off in the darkness. After a few moments, I knew I had spent the whole night under Grandma’s bed. The room was dark and quiet except for an occasional snore from above me. I lay ridged at first, then slowly I crawled out from under the bed and got the courage to look at Grandma. Her head was facing the window so that made it easy for me to escape my hiding place. Slowly I moved toward the door hoping Mother wasn’t up and moving around yet. Just as I reached for the latch, Grandma let out a loud snore and my heart was suddenly stuck in my throat. I was certain I would hear her sharp voice scream at me any moment, but I heard nothing, nothing but snoring. Even though my throat didn’t want to cooperate, I swallowed hard and slowly turned my head to see Grandma sleeping comfortably. Facing the door, I opened it ever so gently and slipped out of the room, careful to close the door as quietly as I’d opened it. Luck must have been with me because neither Mother nor Father had awakened yet. I scurried up the ladder and back into my bed just in time to hear Mother open her door and go toward the kitchen. Talk about close! I was one scared little girl! At the same time though, I had to chuckle at myself for being so sneaky and sly and actually getting away with it.

As I lay in bed listening to Mother fixing the day’s breakfast, I got the brainy idea to make a game of it and try to find out what Grandmother was up to, of course, without letting her know I’d seen her dancing by herself naked. It had shocked me the night before but now it just kind of seemed funny. I guess when people get older they do silly things like that, I thought to myself, but I hope I never get that old. Mother shouted for me to get up and get dressed. By the time she yelled for everyone to come to the table, I was dressed and already hurrying down the ladder. Father came from his room scratching his head and yawning.

Joseph Eden was a handsomely built man with brown hair and blue eyes. Of course he seemed very tall to me but I suppose all fathers seem tall to their children. He was a good-natured man, far unlike his mother. I sometimes wondered how such a mean spiteful woman could possibly be Father’s mother. They were as different as night and day.

There was no need to wonder what the conversation would be about around the breakfast table. It would probably be the same as it had been for months. It seemed all I ever heard about anymore was the eagerly awaited arrival of a new brother or sister. Somehow, however, on this crisp September morning, I didn’t care what the grownups talked about. I had a lot of thinking and conniving to do. I was lost deep in my thoughts about how to get into Grandma’s room again without getting caught, and what was that dancing about? I thought my heart was going through the roof when suddenly Father dropped his fork hitting his plate with it. I found myself blurting out the question:

Father, after the baby comes, can we all dance?

Of course Jenny. What made ya think of that?

Oh nothin’. It’s just that I ain’t seen ya and mommy dance for a long time.

I told ya, Jenny, don’t call me that! Ya are to call me Mother! she shouted.

Mary, said Father, I don’t see that it hurts nothin’ for her to call ya Mommy.

Ya hush up, Joe Eden! Ya know what we agreed on!

Yes dear. Jenny, yurr ta call her Mother. Ya hear? Father said in a solemn voice.

We don’t want to upset yurr mother, what with the new baby comin’ next month an’ all.

Okay, Father. Are ya goin’ to town today, Father? I heard ya an’ Mother talkin’ ’bout it yesterday.

The closest town was about thirty miles away. I knew it would be late afternoon before Father would be back.

Sure am. Why?

Can ya git me another book an’ if’n ya can afford it, maybe some more chalk?

Course I can, Sweetie.

Joe, Mother interrupted, Ya spoil that girl too much. Got ta where she thinks she’s too big furr her britches as it is.

She’s a smart girl, Mary. She can read an’ write an’ do her sums, an’ she ain’t even five just yet. Don’t see no need in tryin’ to hold her back. An’ she does need some new chalk.

Yow, she’s smart ’nough alright. Yu’d better just make sure ya do the same furr this little one in my belly.

Ya know I will, Mary.

I know ya’d better!

All through breakfast Grandma just stared at me; never said a word. I knew from her looks I’d better drop the subject of dancing. I also knew I’d better stop sneaking into her room, at least for a while. Hopefully, Grandma would shift her attention to the baby when it came and leave me alone, or better yet, maybe the baby wouldn’t come. Maybe it would just go away and I wouldn’t have to share my Father with anyone else. No such luck!

On October 2, at about four o’clock in the morning, I was awakened by the sound of Mother yelling. Father quickly got Grandma to go in and help Mother. I watched as Father paced back and forth in the living room for two hours. We both listened to Mother screaming most of the time. Finally, Grandma came out of the bedroom and told him to go in. I heard her say he had a strong, healthy son. Quickly I scampered down the ladder and started toward my parent’s room only to feel the tight grip of Grandma’s hand grabbing my arm and stopping me.

Where do ya think yurr goin’? Ya git right back to bed. Time ’nough for ya to ruin the baby’s life without tryin’ to start on his day of birth. Now off with ya! Git to bed an’ not a word outta ya!

She spun me around and shoved me toward the ladder to the loft. When I turned back around and looked at her, she had her long crooked finger pointing toward my bed. Slowly, I went back up the ladder and got into my bed. Later that morning I was awakened by the clanging of pots and pans as Grandma was preparing breakfast. By the time Father finally came from his bedroom, I was dressed and flying down the ladder.

Father, Father, can I see him? I anxiously asked.

Of course, Sweetie, but ya must be very quiet an’ not disturb yurr mother.

Okay.

Ever so quietly we entered the bedroom. Mother was sleeping and the baby was lying in his cradle. I walked over and looked down at him.

His name is David Immanuel Eden, Father said with a great deal of pride. The baby didn’t look anything like me. He had black hair and dark skin. I thought he was too tiny to be a real human. I stood and stared down at him for the longest time.

Come on, whispered Father, let’s go git some breakfast.

Father took my hand and led me out of the room. Of course, he and Grandma talked about nothing else all through breakfast except how beautiful David was. To me, he just looked like a prune. I could only hope he didn’t stay that way. Maybe, after a few days, things would get back to normal. But then again, normal wasn’t always so good for me. Not only did I now have a baby brother in my life, but this was the real beginning of Mother’s indifference toward me. I mean even more than usual. The way she fussed over him all the time you’d have thought I was invisible or something except when she was working me or yelling at me for something. I was more than willing to share my parents with this squealing little varmint, but there’s a limit to how much a kid can put up with. I tried to help in every way I knew how. Still, Mother looked at me and treated me like I was a disease or something.

There weren’t many places in this small cabin to hide to get away from Mother when she got into one of her moods. Our home had only three rooms and a loft, but shucks, that was plenty for a family of five. My Grandfather had built our cabin some years ago when He and Grandmother had first settled in Western Kansas. He died when I was two,