The Haunting of Ruby Shane (part4)

He slapped my face so hard I heard my jaw pop.
And I had this fleeting thought, " Could your head pop off from being hit that hard?"
Of course I knew it couldn't. That was ridiculous.

It was just a thought....
But, I actually saw stars and then everything went black.

"Ruby, why are you laying on the floor? Are you alright?" Momma's worried face hovered over mine.

"Oh my God!" She started crying when she saw my purple check and busted lip.

"It's alright Momma, I'm ok." I mumbled from swollen lips.

I remember smelling the blood before I felt it and how the stench of it made me feel sick. The blood from my lip had pooled up behind my ear. And it was sticky and congealed.

"Did he do this to you?" Before I could answer her she had already began running through the house looking for him. She didn't need an answer, there was no one else who would have done it but him.


"Where is he?" She had the rolling pin now, ready to inflict serious damage.

"Momma, stop. Just help me up I feel dizzy." My head felt like it was going to fall off.

Momma knelt down and held me. "I am so sorry baby." She cried until the front of my shirt was wet.

I didn't cry. I couldn't, it had happened too many times. All I felt was
rage.
Rage that my own Dad would do this to me. That he felt like slapping and hitting were the answer to everything. That hate was his main emotion.

Rage that he had slapped me for something trivial. I had forgot to bring him a beer when I left the kitchen.


But in my heart I knew I would make sure that he never hit me or Momma again.

Momma was so small, and she was barely eating. She was cleaning the homes of the wealthy to to put food on our table. Mowing lawns to clothe us.
I was not ashamed of her, I loved her. I only felt anger at the poverty we seemed never to escape from.

Anger that Momma barely had money to clothe us, yet the people she worked for had so many clothes that they wore them until they were all dirty. Then went out and bought new ones.

They are extremes in life, excessively poor and excessively rich. And being excessively poor is the worst one.

When Daddy had asked for help a few times he was made to feel like he was nothing. Lower than nothing.

No one should do that to another person. Make them feel like they aren't worth the dirt off their shoes. But that is what happened every time.

Then Daddy would be down for days and the drinking would start all over again. He was never able to tell his sisters how they made him feel. He took it out on us. Throwing Momma down the stairs once after getting into a fight with them.

Of course he was sorry, but wasn't he always sorry when he had gone too far?

I heard a knock at the door and I told Momma to help me up.
She told me to go wash my face. And when I came back out the surprise of my life was standing in my front room.

Thomas Shane.

to be continued....

by Nita Barrow- Zimmerman

Today's song, I Fall to Pieces by Patsy Cline
1st video, 1st clip