Graybeard Outdoors

Ok please be kind. I am not a writer. I am going out on a limb by even posting this. It is essentially a window to my life. Ann is my grandmother. She is the strongest woman I know. I am writing her story to draw from her strength. I am dealing with some issues and it helps to put them into words. This story is mostly real. There is some fiction but only to serve the purpose to fill in the gaps of what I have been told. Someone out there needs to read this. I'm not sure who, but it was laid on my conscious to post this against my better judgment. I hope it helps. Please don't comment if you don't have something nice to say.

Chapter 1

It is almost bedtime and the baby has been sleeping for a few minutes. Evan and Bradley are bouncing around in the living room winding down for the night. Matt is staring intently at his computer while the Family Guy plays in the background. I am trying to find the missing pieces I need to put my mind at ease. I finally remember her husband’s first name! I just need to…

“Mommy…Mommy” Evan and Bradley began singing in unison. “The Peter Pan movie went of in the T.V. room.”

I took a long deep breath and began our nightly tuck in routine, and by the time they were asleep I was exhausted. I sat at my computer and tracked down Mrs. Wadell’s phone number so I could call her in the morning and let her know about the changes that Matt and I would be making to the Saks Youth website. I visited my favorite sites making a longer detour at my favorite House forums than is probably mentally healthy, oh well the stories are amazing and I’ve stumbled across some amazing writers. I was now physically and mentally exhausted so I asked Matt if he wanted to spend some time with me before I went to bed?

“Heather you know it is not a question of if I want to spend time with you or not, it is a question of if I have time, and tonight I do just give me a few minutes.” Matt grumbled without looking away from his computer screen

I was a little confused by his answer, but didn’t say anything. A few moments later he smiled slyly and said, “Baby you know I always want to spend time with you, you should never question that.” We made our way to the living room to cuddle on the couch and watch some television. After a couple of hours I went to bed and Matt went back to work via the internet, but not before tucking me in and reassuring me that he would be to bed soon.

I tossed and turned for hours going over everything that has happened over the last few years. How did I get to this point in my life? What do I do now? Did she mean to kill herself? Nanny is being so strong while dealing with the horrific grief of losing a child. That’s just Nanny, I’m sure her suffering now kind of pales in comparison to what she went through when she was roughly my age. At least this time she has friends and family as support and not enemies. I tried to think back in time and draw strength from Nanny’s past. Her ability to overcome the haunting existence she called life in the late 1960’s brought me more sadness and guilt. I was sorrowful for her suffering and guilt ridden at the thought of how could I be that strong? Right before I finally drifted off to sleep I was once again haunted by the image of her laying in the hospital bed with her eyes fixed and dilated staring at me so intent if felt like they were burning a hole in my heart.

Chapter 2

The next morning I awoke more determined than ever to finally know the whole truth. I was set in my intentions for my mission. I fed and dressed the kids then dropped them off with my Aunt Judy. As I was entering the driveway of my Nanny’s place thoughts of the past and present swirled in my mind. How does someone with that much negative in their lives turn it into a positive?

The row of trailers to my right contrasted with the huge stucco house to my left. They were all hers. This woman is in her late 60’s and runs a trailer park better than most 40 something men.

My hands started to sweat and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. The anxiety of the questions I wanted to ask and the answers I desperately needed were almost too much. Just a few hundred feet away were the facts that I sought. I took a deep breath and trudged on. I needed to know and waiting was just putting off the inevitable.

Nanny greeted me with her usual warm welcome. After the shower of hugs and kisses and normal pleasant comments she took one look at me and knew something wasn’t right. I could see her eyes searching mine trying to figure what was wrong. A look of realization struck her face and she kindly said “Sweetie would you like to know about your grandfather.”

After swallowing the lump in my throat I simply nodded, and she began.

“I met Bobby Eugene Blankenship when I was a mere high school student in Spring Garden, Alabama in 1958. He was nothing more than a poor country boy, and my Daddy hated him. My mother wasn’t much better though she did understand that I didn’t care that he wasn’t well bread and didn’t have any money. She could tell that I loved him more than life itself, but even she couldn’t understand why I would turn down Ronnie Chandler, one of the biggest cotton farmers this side of the Mississippi, for a common plow boy. I didn’t care what anybody thought. I was going to get my High School Diploma and then I was out of here. I had 11 brothers and sisters so I figured Mom and Dad could marry off my younger sister to Ronnie, she would have been more than willing.

That is what I did. Bobby and I saw each other every chance we got while I finished my last semester of school. It took a little longer than expected because we had an unusually big crop this year and harvest took longer than expected, but by late June I was finished with all of my lessons and had my diploma. That very same night I snuck out the window and into the arms of the man I loved. He was waiting out by the old oak tree that stood at the corner of our property and his boss’s pond. I saw him standing under the moonlight with his light brown hair shining and his piercing blue eyes shot me a look of longing. I knew right then and there that I had made the right choice. We made a run for his truck and left town headed anywhere but here.

Chapter 3

We traveled for days not really having a plan except to spend the rest of our lives together. We saved what little money we had by camping out and cleaning ourselves in public bathrooms or nearby creeks. We were practically broke with no home and a Ford that was on its last leg, but it was one of the happiest times of our lives.

One day we were in Beaumont, Texas when the Ford finally dies on us. We were walking down an old dirt road when a man pulled up beside us. He asked us if we needed a ride somewhere and Bobby told him that we had no destination, except for a desire to be together. The man looked at us with understanding and after I assured him I was older than 16 he offered me and Bobby both a job. I enjoyed my job of helping Mrs. Belle Singapore cook and clean and tend to the children, and Bobby was absolutely over the moon about tending to the horses, so for 3 years this was home. We lived in a makeshift apartment in the loft of the barn, and I couldn’t have been happier if we lived in a mansion.

I was sittin on the front porch swing rocking the new baby Singapore when Bobby came bouncing up the steps. He was so excited about meeting a Mr. Graves. Had I known then what I know now I would have put my foot down and told Bobby no, but as it stood I knew nothing except what he told me and I was happy to follow him anywhere. We left the next day so he could join Mr. Graves in a water tower repair job.

We traveled all over the U.S. Being a small town farm girl from Alabama, I was quiet naive about the great big world out there. We had been on the road for about 6 months when I started feeling sick. I couldn’t get out of bed with out vomiting. A couple of months later the absence from my monthly friend coupled with the fact that my once flat abdomen was starting to protrude let me know that I was going to have a baby.

When I told Bobby he almost knocked me down when he lunged to hug me. I don’t think I had ever seen him that happy. He walked on clouds for months patiently awaiting the arrival of our first child. Six months later Judith Ann Thompson was a gift blessed upon Bobby and myself.

Two years, ten states, and countless hotel rooms later I realized there was another baby on the way. Bobby wasn’t so thrilled this time. Even though he was making decent money, our budget was tight and another baby didn’t exactly fit.

Bobby began to drink. Not so much at first, but with time his consumption increased exponentially. By the time Kimberly Jo Blankenship was ready to be born I found him passed out too drunk to know that there was even a birth going on in the same bed with him. After Kim came I couldn’t even get him awake to check on Judy. I had tried to be quiet, but the pain was too much. I cleaned the baby and myself before getting up to feed my toddler.

That pretty much paints a grim picture of how the next 3 years would go. Bobby went to work when he wasn’t too hung over. He drank and slept the rest of the time. He became angry and violent, getting in to more fights than he had ever been in during his entire life combined. He never laid a hand on me, but the words he spoke hurt more than if he would have just beat me.
We were in Georgia when I found out I was pregnant with my third child. I was scared to tell Bobby. I was scared to say much of anything to him these days. I took the kids to the room next door. One of Bobby’s coworkers had picked up a woman a few towns back. I didn’t know her that well, but I didn’t know how Bobby would react when I told him the news, so I at least wanted them to be safe.

When I told him his face went pale and he stared for a long time. I was practically shaking waitin on him to say something anything. He finally spoke and his words took my breath away. He looked deep into my eyes and said “When we decided to run away and get married I promised you I would always take care of you.” You have given me two wonderful girls and now you have another miracle on the way. I am so sorry Ann for the way I have acted these past few years. I have been a horrible husband and an even worse father. I have been a boy when my family needed a man. From this day forward I intend to be that man.”

To say I was shocked would have been an understatement. I wanted so bad to have my husband back. The Bobby I loved and needed and would do anything for hadn’t been around in quiet some time and my heart fluttered at the thought of having my Bobby back again.

The next morning he surprised me further by telling me that we were going home. He knew how much I had missed my family and realized that we had been gone long enough that the sins of the past had faded and my parents would just be happy to have their daughter back and to meet their granddaughters. We packed what we had into our new old car and headed to Piedmont, Al.

My whole family was beyond happy to have us there. We lived with my parents until Richard Eugene Blankenship was born. True to his word Bobby stayed sober. After Ricky was born we moved into a small cottage on the edge of my parents land. Bobby tended the cotton fields and I stayed in our home and enjoyed raising our kids. Life was good. I had my husband back. I was home with my family, and I had three lovely children. If I could go back in time and stop the clock right there I would. I had everything I had always wanted and then some.

When Ricky was about 6 months old my brother Travis came by to see if Bobby would like to go hunting to try out his new gun with him. Bobby being the outdoors man that he was jumped at the chance. I packed them a snack and some cola. As I was loading the food into Travis’ cooler I noticed the liquor. I reminded Travis that Bobby didn’t need to be drinking. He smiled at me and told me not to worry. I gave him a scornful look. Had I known that that was the last time I would ever speak to him I might have reacted differently, but I didn’t so I just turned on my heal and headed back into the house without as much as a goodbye.

Six hours later I was worried because I hadn’t heard from Bobby or Travis and it was getting close to dark. I knew they weren’t hunting at night. I loaded my kids up and went to my mothers. The family was hurriedly preparing for dinner. I knew Travis would come here first because he knew better than to worry Mother, so the kids and I settled in to wait. An hour after sunset we noticed the headlights pull into the drive. I was standing on the porch as I saw Myrtice, the eldest of eleven, hurried out to the car to warn of my father’s wrath for upsetting me and mother. Both men were plastered. Travis was waving his gun at Myrtice in explanation for why they were out so late. Bobby went to grab the gun stating “put that away Travis your going to hurt someone.”

As the last word left his mouth the gun went off lodging a bullet in the base of Travis’ neck. He died almost instantly. I rushed to him to help, but it was too late, he was gone. Bobby took one look at me ran. I didn’t know where he went and I didn’t care. I had gotten close enough to tell that he had been drinking, and even though I knew it was an accident I blamed him and the alcohol for my brothers death. As soon as my brother was buried, my family let it be known that I was no longer welcome in their home.

Bobby didn’t go far. He made it to the moonshine mans house and then to our bed. He had been drunk since the incident. I told him of my parent’s decision that night while he was in a drunken stupor. He hit me. For the first time he became raged. He broke almost everything in the house. Once he realized what he had done he cried and apologized and begged for forgiveness. I loved him. I wasn’t blind; I could plainly see his faults. I knew he killed my brother, but it didn’t change how I felt. I agreed to leave with him the next day and move to his parents shack in Ft. Payne a couple of hours away.

When we arrived at his parents they weren’t overjoyed about having three kids move in. Bobby and his dad fought, and Bobby got drunk. That night while me and the kids were asleep Bobby took an entire bottle of his mothers pain meds and washed it down with an entire bottle of shine.

I woke the next morning to my children screaming and a corpse in the bed with me. Bobby had successfully committed suicide. I froze. I could hear my kids, but I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe. I somehow managed to send Judy to get the grandmother she had never met. From waking up to his dead body till the burial I don’t remember much. After the funeral the Blankenship’s told me that my kids could stay but I was a murder and wasn’t allowed in their home.

Chapter 4

I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know where to go. The only thing I really knew was that I didn’t know anyone in Ft. Payne. I may not have had a family in Piedmont anymore, but at least I knew the town. I dressed my children in as many layers of clothing as they could wear, packed a small bag of the baby essentials, and began to walk. I wasn’t sure where I would go; I just knew I couldn’t stay there. We had been walking for hours before a kind old Christian lady took pity upon us and offered us a ride. I had her take me to my childhood church back in Piedmont. The pastor there was my sister’s husband, so I was taking a big risk. Rev. David Ingram came through the church doors as we were headed up the steps. At first he seemed irritated that we were even there. His first interpretation of the scene before him was that I had finally left Bobby. Upon studying the hurt in my eyes he finally asked what was wrong. I fell to my knees almost dropping the baby as I began to tell him that Bobby was dead. He scooped me up in his arms, baby and all, and told me that even if his wife objected, he felt as if it would be turning down God’s work if he didn’t help me.
David truly was a gift from God to me and my children. He helped get us situated in a one bedroom apartment in the housing projects and got me a job lined up in a sewing factory within walking distance from home. Judy, my eldest daughter, was 9 at the time. She took on the role of mother while I took on a job. I was over 30 and hadn’t worked a day in my life. I felt bad having to rely on my child to help raise my kids, but I had to choice. If I didn’t work then we didn’t eat.
I had no one else, Judy was it. She was very mature for her age. I don’t know if it was the tragedy that her mere 9 years had witnessed or if she was just naturally caring and giving, but she never complained. She kept the house spotless. She got up during the night with the baby; she got up three hours before school to feed and dress Kim and Ricky. She walked Kim to school before carrying Ricky to school with her. She was essentially a working mother herself. I worked at the factory during the day, and some nights I would pick up side work from one of the men that worked with me. It was horrible, depressing, and, degrading, but I did what I had to do to make sure that my kids had a home, food, and clothes. I didn’t care about me anymore I just wanted them to be ok.
That next winter I had just left one of my night clients and was walking home. I got close enough to the house to see a car in the driveway. I ran as fast as I could. I barged though the door to hear screams coming from the bathroom. I picked up the lamp by the front door and scurried toward the back. I kicked open the bathroom door and froze right there dropping the lamp and shattering it into a million pieces.
My youngest brother was in there with his pants down. My poor Kim was sitting on the toilet with tears streaming down her face. I didn’t think I only reacted. I reached in and snatched up my violated child. Hugh was screaming at me trying to get me to say something. I made my way to the kitchen and grabbed the gun that Bobby had accidentally killed Travis with. What I did was no accident, though the cops didn’t see it that way. I locked the kids in our room.
As I was walking down the hall Hugh was trying to talk to me. I had no interest in what he had to say. He had molested me as a child. The visions of my past accompanied by the visions of my little girl clouded my judgment. I aimed the gun at his head. He gasped in fear. Then he made the mistake of smirking and taunting me. “You stupid bitch, you won’t shoot me.” That was the wrong thing to say. I closed my eyes and pulled the trigger. I was afraid to open my eyes. When I finally did I saw a hole right between his cold dead eyes.
Someone in the projects must have heard the shot because it was a matter of mere minutes before I saw the flashing lights and heard the sirens. Piedmont was a small town back then, and everyone knew of Hugh’s problem. Being a Christian town no one dared spoke of his indiscretions. He went to church every Sunday and his sins were covered by the blood of Christ, so people turned a blind eye to him stealing the innocence of God’s precious daughters. Fortunately for me the Sheriff wasn’t as blind to Hugh’s sins, but did turn a blind eye to mine. He placed a knife in Hugh’s hands upon arriving. Since he was the first to see the body, there was never an investigation into his shooting. It was ruled self defense immediately and no one ever gave it a second thought, no one but me that is.