Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Curtis, part thirty

"What are you doing?" Leta demanded.

Late Thursday morning, after several hours of milking cows, feeding 12 children and chickens, gathering eggs, churning butter and making berry jam, Leta had stolen up the stairs to her bedroom for a quick nap. Her oldest stepdaughter could watch the baking bread.

Wednesday had been a long, exhausting and distressing day. It seemed that every day she was married to Curtis was a long and exhausting day. Such was the life on a farm of any kind, and Curtis owned a chicken farm. Such was the life of a parent, and Curtis brought 12 children to their marriage, all of whom still lived in the dilapidated farmhouse with them. Such was her life now that she was married to the man. But the previous day had distressed her deeply. Not only was she prevented from traveling to the nearby town for some shopping and to be in the company of other adults, but she also learned that her husband had deceived her about the automobile that he was driving. Although she had seen him drive it and rode in it while they became acquainted—for several months—the vehicle was not his. Early in the afternoon, a neighbor appeared at the house to claim the car as his own, and that’s when Leta learned of her husband’s deceit.

The neighbor Mr. Wilcox, an older widower, seemed equally surprised that she had not known, and perhaps it was this shared awkwardness that her husband interpreted as some sort of attraction. Rather than responding to Leta’s concern at his misleading her about the car, he became glaringly jealous. Curtis ordered her to avoid even looking in the direction of Wilcox’s farm. Although his property was beside their own, the house and barn were nearly a mile away and separated by a grove of trees. She could not see the house, let alone any person, whether Mr. Wilcox or someone else, walking about the yard. Further, she was completely disinterested in Mr. Wilcox, particularly after their uncomfortable meeting. She would have preferred never to see the man again.

Nonetheless, Curtis glared at her and barely spoke the rest of the day. By suppertime, all she wanted to do was go to bed, and so she did. Shortly after she had fallen asleep, Curtis made his first sexual claim of her. As it was an act of possession and not one of desire or even interest, she would not accept his overtures. He became angry, and for a few moments, she wondered if he would force her to participate. But after a few more tense moments, he left her alone and promptly fell asleep. Working all day on the farm tired him as well.

Now it was Thursday morning, and she had barely spoken to her husband at all. As he was a basically quiet man, this was not surprising, but their interactions the previous day made him somewhat sullen. This gave her too much time to consider if this current state was going to be the permanent one between them, and whether she would prefer it that way. They had been married for less than a week, and rather than grow closer together, they seemed to be drifting apart.

Now upon entering their bedroom, she found him going through one of her still unpacked suitcases and asked him what he was doing. When she spoke, he jerked slightly and then turned toward her.

“I need five dollars,” he said.

“What?” she questioned.

“I need five dollars,” he repeated.

“What on earth for?” she asked.

“I figured you kept money in one of these bags,” he continued. “You only had three dollars in your pocketbook.”

“You went through my pocketbook?” she repeated.

“I need five dollars!” he insisted. He pushed the bag away and stood. Although he was not a tall man, Curtis was larger than she, so this move gave him stature and perhaps made him feel less vulnerable and guilty by his inappropriate behavior.

“For what?” she asked.

“For the milk man,” he answered.

This confused her.

“Why do you owe money to the milk man?”

He started to answer, but realizing that she was still holding the dominant side of the conversation, quickly altered his tactic.

“Just give me five dollars, Mrs. Curtis,” he demanded. “The fella’s waiting out front.”

Although she had been through a number of difficult situations and unpleasant feelings over the week, for the first time, she felt violated. This was a complete breach of trust to her. He could have asked. He could have been direct about his financial needs. He could have been honest and clear about everything. Instead, he used his quiet demeanor to conceal, obfuscate and sometimes even downright lie.

Leta had been lied to in marriage previously, and she would not stand for it again.


To be continued.

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