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.
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