Oh! Wonder-days! (short-story) Part 2 of 6

Recall: Me-time!---Me-way!...Me-Conclusion!

 

 

“Hessie! Chile! You can’t just lay there. Girl! Storm’s a-comin’! Get yourself up!”

Mamma’s words echoed in her demented mental-state mind. Mamma was afraid her youngest child of a seven-total clan was at Death’s-door. Momma’s-own demise some fifty-years prior did not dissuade Hessie from seeing the matron in her present “reality” of obfuscated realism.

The hapless woman had never lived to see the other side of “30”; worked herself into an early grave with a hunched back, fingers literally worked to the bone. Seven young-’uns in constant need of food and clothes and nurturing had taken their toll; married at age 13 to a shifless good-for-nothing drinking/womanizing useless sort of a man had not lessened Mamma’s burdens. And, though everybody in the county knew it, Hessie would never admit, or even mention, her mother’s second avocation: all the males from far and wide knew of the “silver-dollar” special for which the pretty, young black-gal living in the shack just of the highway was famous.

Hessie truly hated that reputation of her Momma’s legacy; still, took up the same immoral transgression-habit, anyway. A girl did what she had to do to survive. And, Hessie sure enough enjoyed a host of male companions.

The silver dollars added up to a handsome tally; it paid the bills, and then some.

Mamma’s “ghost”, or whatever Hessie imagined, or saw, faded as the old woman’s eyes opened. “Was that ‘Mamma’ giving me ‘what-for’ just cause I done gone and got myself sick?”

Rational!? Again? She considered her plight; she felt downright “poorly”; hopeless.

Should-a called the doctor. Sure-enough! The old gal chastised herself for poor judgement.

Too weak to laugh aloud at her prophetic-conclusion---“Poor-judgement”!...She smiled.

A grey-curtain closed in a fog-shroud surrounding her tortured mind; fever-spiked. She slept, then, for some period too obfuscated for the tally-count; somehow Hessie silent-prayed her dear-departed mother might once more return to chide her from the bed so clammy-cold around her.

Slipping uncontrollably from hither to yon, Hessie relived her Alleluia-days!? Was it Hell!?

 

(Part 3 of 6 tomorrow)