Chapter 25

Mayport, FL - JuNE, 1968

Elizabeth had finally climbed on her best friend’s tire swing. It hung from a huge live oak with a tug of war rope hung both vertically and horizontally. All the kids in the neighborhood looked for the signal to pull back and sweep the tire and her to the top limbs. School was over. The summer days were becoming longer and kids wandered the neighborhood. Locusts sung from the live oaks.

The teen from across the street said, “Pull...” and Elizabeth felt the rope rock her several times, gaining momentum. “Let go,” he instructed. Her stomach dropped and she tightened her grip when the tire swing crested the roof line. The kids below her heckled and laughed as she squeezed her eyes and scrawny legs as the tire swing slowed. She recognized her sisters jeering but forced herself to celebrate the adrenaline rush. This was highly overrated, she thought. Four kids rushed the swing and she became obsolete.

For an hour she sat cross-legged under the smaller oak. She and her best friend had spent hours climbing and reading MAD Magazine in this tree. She loved when they learned new words to I’m Dreaming of a White Sheep Dog adapted to the tune of White Christmas. She even knew Bing Crosby sang it every holiday season. Her mom saturated their home with music. But recently the music had become sad. Things were disappearing from the house. The kittens were allowed to be out later at night and soon they had disappeared with no explanation. So had her mom’s nice boyfriend.

Elizabeth was shaken from her musings when she heard the neighbor kids yelling, “The mosquito truck is on the next street.” The boys whooped and dropped the tire rope. She knew they were headed home to be ready to ride bikes behind the bug spray cloud. She resigned herself to trudging home to their sad house. Her sisters ignored her call to head home. She plucked a stalk of sour weed in the spare lot. As she chewed and sucked, she heard her mom’s voice in her head, a dog could’ve peed on that.

As she chomped it aggressively she thought, Mr. Bobby hasn’t been visiting. It reminded her of the last time her father returned and confronted their mom about something. He’d left as fast as he’d arrived.

But one of the new songs playing in the house was when she learned a new word, divorce. There was a spelling song.... D-I-V-O-R-C-E. Her mom played it a lot and cried when she thought they weren’t looking. Elizabeth suspected they were too much work. How could she help Mommy? She threw down the forbidden sour weed. Walking up the driveway, the car was backed up to the open garage.

She opened the front door, ignoring the odd way her mom had parked. Rebecca was chattering in her mom’s back bedroom. Rebecca hadn’t slept in her bunk for the last week. “Who’s back?” her mom shouted.

“Me, Mom,” Elizabeth answered. She smelled chicken TV dinners in the oven and smiled. She loved mixing up her corn, mash potatoes and butter in the little aluminum tray.

“Where are your sisters?”

“They were down at Susan’s on the tire swing. Probably headed home,” Elizabeth reported. “I tried to get them to follow me.”

“Grab a shower before dinner,” she shouted. “Pajamas are on the bed.”

Before Elizabeth turned towards the bathroom, her mother shuffled to the garage with a cardboard box. Puzzled, Elizabeth went to get her pajamas and clean underwear. She opened the dresser drawer. It was empty. She checked other drawers and they, too, all stood empty. She heard Audrey and Mallory teasing each other as they banged their way in through the front door. She slammed the drawers closed and climbed the bunk ladder to grab her pajamas. At least her mom remembered to add panties too. Her dolls and comic books were lined up across the white glossy shelf. Her gold Siamese dancer dolls posed with beautiful crowns. She remembered helping her father build the bunks. The old ache resurfaced. She loved following him around when he came home from sea. Maybe we chased Mr. Bobby away...like dad.

The aroma of chicken dinner was calling. She scuttled down the ladder and headed off to clean up. She needed to ask her mom if she could spend the night with Susan on Friday. She felt the ache go away and smiled as she walked to the bathroom.