Silent Cry

She was yelling, "I am going to beat your ass into the ground, boy!!"

I sped the tractor up because I knew that at least two whippings were pending. Anyway, I stopped the tractor, jumped off of it and I started running through the cornfield. Suddenly, a hand grabbed me by my waist and then my pants were pulled down quickly. Then I felt a sharp stinging pain on my rear. I yelled out real loud, "Help me somebody, please help me!"

Anyway, let’s get back to my parents fighting. When I got older the table turned, my mother got tired of being on the receiving end of the beatings and she started hitting back. I remember when I was about twelve years old and my parents got into a fight. My mother put my father’s head into a headlock and beat him about his face with her fist until his face turned blue. I really enjoyed these fights because my mother was winning. I saw my father crawling under my parents’ bed and he refused to come out.

He started crying, "Essie Mae, I am sorry!!"

My mother stated, "Come out and fight mister!"

I was able to witness my mother winning several fights during the later years in my childhood, but it was explained to me later by my sister that my mother won those fights because my father was drunk from alcohol. Well, that was good that she waited until he got drunk and beat the s--- out of him. After the incident regarding my sister attempting to cut my father’s left wrist off, is when my mother turned the table on the domestic violence in the family. The physical fights stopped in our home but the verbal fights continued. My father started calling me other names, dumb ass, stupid, a--h---, Hood Face, cursing and belittling us and his behavior became a way of life for the family. Although there was domestic violence, alcoholism and lots of whippings on my behalf, overall, my childhood was not that terrible because I had so many siblings to interact and play with.

I remember the good times. My brother and I built a basketball board and goal and we played many basketball games in the front yard. We played football, baseball; you name it we played it. We played different games with Geneva until Tommy was old enough to play with us.

I remember the family talks my mother use to have with us. I remember that these talks started when I was about seven and they continued until I was about fourteen years old. My mother used to remind us at least once per year that we should work hard physically while we were young and later in life work hard mentally. She told us not to get any bones or joints broken or get in trouble with the law. Later in life, I believed that only Geneva and I truly listened to mother.

Now the happy times! One sunny, Saturday evening my mother instructed Andrew and I to get our father’s bath ready because he was on his way home from work and because we were going up-town to West Memphis, Arkansas for the family night out! This was a nice thrill for us because we rarely left the ‘Sticks.’