Will you be there
April 13, 1958
“Line em up, Katherine. I said line em up now, or I’ll do it for you and put you in the line with them.”
When he whipped his belt off of his trousers, the little ears scattered. Sheltered by their mother’s hymns and from the rainy day, by living room blanket tents, filled with GI Joe’s, match box cars, barbie’s, assorted stuffed animals and laughter, the monster didn’t exist, until he removed their fantasies through the front door.
“I’m not gonna do it Joe. Leave them be. What did they do? They are babies, just having fun.”
“Don’t you dare talk back to me woman. Babies. Huh! When I was their age, I was hustling a buck everyday. They need to toughen up. Maybe you should use the strap on them before I get home and we wouldn’t be havin this conversation. You know better. The house is supposed to be clean when I come home from work. What the hell do you do all day, anyway?”
“Joe, I’ve got 5 of them to look after by myself, with an infant in my arms and one on the way. If you were around here more, you would know what I do all day.”
“That’s it woman!”
“No Joe no, please don’t. I’m gonna drop the baby.”
April 14, 1958
The walls of the hospital room and her memory said nothing when she woke up, and then her empty arms asked the first question.
“Where is my baby? Is my baby okay?”
“As far as I know you were delivered here last night by your husband after you took a nasty fall. Your chart says you’ve had a concussion and you were given a sedative to keep you still. And....unfortunately...., it looks like you also had a miscarriage.”
“A miscarriage!” The wetness between her legs confirmed the revelation. The six at home kept her so busy, there was no time to ponder who this child would become. But the loss was still palpable. She thought, “I should have bit my tongue, listened to his order,” and then said,
“Is there a phone? I’ve gotta check in about my babies. Please!”
“It’s down the hall but you are in no condition to get up. We recommend twenty-four hours of bed rest after a miscarriage, not to mention a concussion also requires you remain on bedrest.”
She surrendered to the instruction of the nurse and stayed put, leaning on her faith to confirm her children were safe and sound. No one would learn of the abuse. They would be seen around town as a hard working proper Christian family. She would justify his behavoir to herself over and over. "Joe is just tired from working too hard to feed us all, clothe us, keep a roof over our heads."
Teardrops rolled down her neck moistening the piping of her hospital gown. When she reached towards the tissue box, she realized it was just as empty as her womb. Placing her hands where the fetus no longer resided, she spoke from her heart. “Baby, I’m so sorry. He didn’t mean it. He just ‘spects a lot from us. He would have loved you, and oh chile’,how I would have loved you, too. All of them at home, and you, a gift from god. I’m so sorry I never got to hold you, name you. If you were a girl, I hadn’t decided yet on a name, but if you were a boy, you would have been Michael Joe Jackson. Forgive me baby and please, please forgive your Papa. Someday I’ll hold you on the other side.”