Leech Hoose, part eight

Leta was engaged to marry Mr. Leech Hoose. Although she did not have an engagement ring or other token, they agreed the previous night that as soon as her divorce from her estranged husband Ora Freeman was finalized, they would marry. They spent the night celebrating, and Leta returned early the next morning. Her children were 14 and 12, old enough to be left alone with the door securely locked.

She was surprised, however, to find that her daughter Vivian was awake and sipping coffee at their kitchen table when she arrived.

“Good morning, Mother,” the girl answered so simply that Leta could not ascertain if she was angry, worried or simply unable to sleep.

For a few moments, the two sat in silence, neither sharing.

“Well, I suppose since you’re awake, we should have some breakfast,” Leta finally said. “We could try that blueberry jam your Aunt Flo made. On toast. I could fry up that bacon, too, if you like.”

“I thought that the bacon was for lunch,” Vivian said.

The girl would not look at her, and this made Leta uncomfortable.

Her statement was true. Leta had acquired a few pieces of bacon for her family to enjoy as a special treat. They rarely had meat of any kind lately, and when she brought it home the previous morning, Leta told her children that they would eat it after church.

“I can change my mind, can’t I?’ Leta said pointedly. “I am the mother.”

“Yes, Ma, of course,” Vivian said finally, as she rose. “But I think I’m going to lie down a little bit longer, if that’s all right.”

Leta was startled by the girl’s coldness.

“You and Dale can have the bacon if you want,” Vivian continued as she walked toward the bedroom the two shared. “I’m not very hungry.”

For the first time, Leta felt as though she did not know her daughter at all. While Vivian never shared much of what she was thinking, she had never been so cold toward her mother. As she sipped her own cup of coffee, Leta felt both disconcerted and angry. Was Vivian judging her? Didn’t the girl understand how hard it was to live the way they were living? That she worried continuously about providing for both of her children? That she was not sure how she was going to pay their bills from month-to-month? That the only pleasure she had in her life right now were her conversations with Mr. Hoose? That before too long she and Leech would be married and all of their problems would be solved?

The divorce between Leta and Ora Freeman was finalized on February 23, 1929, and she married Leech Hoose at the county courthouse one week later, on March 2. It was a Saturday, because Leech would not take off work for the occasion. Leta left the children with her brother Aaron and sister-in-law Florence for the weekend. She wore a new dress, purchased with the last of the money she received from Ora, which was even less than the small amount she anticipated, and nowhere near as much as she needed.

But her financial woes, she believed, were over. She had met and married a man with a good job, with whom she enjoyed making conversation, and with whom she wanted to make a home. She felt tremendous relief at a change in her life situation from the very moment they signed the marriage papers.

She was now Mrs. Leech Hoose. She and her children would move from their garret into a house with a full kitchen, with bedrooms for everyone, with a yard where she could grow some vegetables and Dale could play. They would eat full meals and be warm during the cold winters.

And every night she would share a bed with her life companion.

On Monday morning, she made Leech breakfast. This was not the first time she made him breakfast, but it was the first time she did it in their kitchen. It was a cold morning, but the warmth of the kitchen combined with the warmth of the new marriage repelled the chill.

“The children will be with us for supper,” Leta commented. “Is there something special you would like to eat?”

“Chicken,” Leech said.

“What would you like to go with it?” she asked.

“Potatoes,” he answered.

“I thought I would make a pie, too. Would you like pie?”

“Fine.”

“What kind? Apple? Cherry? Custard? Pumpkin?”

“Yeah,” he said so chokingly Leta wasn’t sure she understood him.

Then he put the morning newspaper between them, ending the conversation.

To be continued.

Leech Hoose, part seven

October dragged into November with Leta and her children continuing to struggle economically. She and Leech had already agreed that they would marry as soon as she was free from Ora Freeman, but her soon-to-be former husband was stalling their divorce proceedings. Twice he had visited her and offered to welcome her and the children back into his life. He told her he had a new house. He was working steadily. He missed them. His offers were conflicting to Leta, but not for very long.

Certainly, she wanted to be married. She had wanted her marriage to Ora to be successful and last for the rest of her lives. After all, she had already been married twice, first to the father of her children. That marriage was fraught with frustration and uncertainty. Her husband Ralph had trouble maintaining steady work. He was slovenly in his personal habits. He neglected her and their children. What aggravated Leta most was how he expected her to behave like his mother—to cook like her, keep house like her, even dress in a similar fashion. But she would not comply. She would not be managed; she demanded respect for who she was. Her second husband Albert was everything she could have hoped for in a husband, as well as father to her children. He was a good provider, loving, devoted, helpful, and he made their lives enjoyable. She thrived with him, and so did the children. But alas, his life was cut short, and his horrible death left her bereft, emotionally and financially.

Ora fulfilled her immediate needs. He was helpful, compassionate and brought her children treats. She misunderstood her appreciation of him and all that he was doing for them as love and the cornerstone of a good marriage. However, once they were married, she learned that Ora was unstable, untrustworthy, and financially and emotionally incapable of heading a family. He worked far less than necessary to support her and her children, and squandered what little money they had on his own amusements. He drank too much and, although she could never prove it, was a gambler. How else could she explain the sudden appearances of cash without any noticeable effort to earn it?

She recognized that it was better for her and her children to be poor on their own than under the jurisdiction of an unreliable man. She also had personal needs that Ora was unable or uninterested in satisfying. He wasn’t even a good conversationalist. And, she told herself, someone who was attentive, talked to her and provided for her and her children was what she needed in her life. This was exactly what she had with Albert.

So far in their friendship, Leech Hoose was exemplary at being an adult companion for her. They could talk for hours. Even though they did not always agree, they respected and honored each other. They laughed together. He was courteous and considerate. He was employed.

All she needed to do was secure her divorce from Ora, and they would marry. That was their plan. One night at their favorite speakeasy, they agreed to the plan. Leta was thrilled and relieved. It was early November. Her poverty was becoming more apparent, and she knew she had little time before she needed to change her life. She knew that when the divorce was settled, she would receive a little money from her soon-to-be ex-husband, but it would not be enough to sustain her and her children. While she was able to clothe Dale in hand-me-downs from his older cousins, Vivian needed a winter coat. Currently, mother and daughter were sharing, but this was proving to be complicated. More than once during a chilly day, Leta found herself shivering on the street as she performed duties that took her out of the house. The Farmer’s Almanac guaranteed an early winter, and already the temperature had dropped below freezing several times.

Also, her heating bills would increase, and they were already as bundled up in their small apartment as they could be. Her little family needed a financial provider, and she, a healthy and vivacious 34-year-old woman, needed a man.

The night they decided to marry as soon as it was legal to do so was the first time she saw Leech’s house. They stayed at the speakeasy until it closed, and he drove them there. It was very late and dark, and because she had other things on her mind, she did not pay much attention to the location. She noted that the bed was unmade and the sheets not frequently washed, but that was about it.

Because of the time of year, it was still dark in the morning when she rose, kissed her sleeping beau on the forehead, dressed and headed for the trolley.

When she arrived home, her fourteen-year-old daughter Vivian was awake and sipping coffee at the kitchen table.

“Vivian?” Leta questioned quietly, as if not to disturb the early morning silence that permeated the air of their apartment. “What are you doing up so early?”

To be continued.

Leech Hoose, part six

Leta and her special friend Leech Hoose were sitting at their usual table in the corner of the speakeasy where they met a few times a week for drinks and conversation. Hoose was sharing his opinions on the behaviors of young people—boys and girls. He had previously noted, using his brother and a couple of fellows who were recently expelled from the establishment as examples, that all boys have a little violence in them. As an example, he referred to an altercation his brother had with another fellow over a girl, and how she manipulated them to admire her.

“It’s just a habit of pretty girls,” Leech suddenly continued, transforming the initial conversation about boys to pretty girls. “And your Vivian is a pretty girl. That’s all I’m saying. Come on, you know this is true. Pretty girls like to manipulate boys. It gives them a sense of pleasure. You were a pretty girl.”

Leta sighed.

A couple of days later, she met Vivian as she was walking home from school. Vivian was in ninth grade, her first year of high school. Leta told herself that she was going because she wanted to get out of the house where she had been cleaning all day, but she actually wanted to observe her daughter in the girl-boy environment.

She arrived a short way down the street just as school was dismissed. As there were hundreds of students, all streaming out simultaneously, it took several minutes before Leta spotted her daughter, who was walking with two other girls. The girls waved to several other students, most in groups like they were, some of them groups of boys. As Vivian was a courteous, gentle and studious, Leta presumed that she would have few friends, but in those brief moments before her daughter recognized her, Leta learned that Vivian enjoyed some popularity with girls and boys. She gestured, waved, and smiled broadly.

However, when Vivian saw her mother, she immediately pulled herself into her body. Her step became more weighted and she slowed her pace. The smile remained, but became tighter. She went from vivacious to collected in an instant.

“Mother!” Vivian exclaimed when they were within earshot of each other. “Is everything all right?”

“Of course, darling,” Leta said, dressing herself in her adult charm. “I’ve been in the house all day, and I needed to take a little walk.”

“But it’s so far,” Vivian noted.

“It’s a lovely day,” Leta responded. “Now, please, mind your manners and introduce your mother to your friends.”

Upon the request, Vivian introduced her companions to her mother. As they walked together, the girls shared that they lived many blocks from each other and only walked a short ways together. This gave Leta only a few minutes to learn that both were in most of Vivian’s classes and the trio had been close for a couple of years.

“Vivian spends more time at the library,” one explained, “but we get there every now and then.”

“She helps us study,” the other shared.

“We help each other,” Vivian corrected defensively.

After parting from Vivian’s friends, mother and daughter walked in silence for a block or two. Then Vivian spoke.

“I’m starting to miss the birds already,” she said.

“What do you mean?” Leta asked.

“During the summer, we heard birds singing all the time,” Vivian said. “Even the beginning of school, but now that it’s almost October, there are fewer and fewer of them.”

“You’re right. I hadn’t noticed,” Leta said. “I like listening to the birds, too.”

“When I’m married and have my own house, we’re going to have a big bird bath, so I can have birds around all the time,” Vivian said.

“And a couple of trees, I hope,” Leta suggested, “so they can nest.”

“Oh, yes, Mother, absolutely.”

“Well, that is a long way off,” Leta said pointedly. “You still have high school.”

To be continued.

Leech Hoose, part five

Several nights per week, Leta met Mr. Leech Hoose at a speakeasy located a couple of miles from where she was living with her children Vivian and Dale. She was divorcing her third husband Ora Freeman after several months of extreme unhappiness. While the legal process dragged on, Leta and the children were living in near-poverty, but with the assistance of her family and her own capabilities, they were surviving.

Even so, the tension weighed heavily on Leta. While she adored motherhood, serving as sole provider for two children hurt her heart. The hours she spent with Leech were her respite. They would order drinks and sit at a table in the corner of the establishment, talking about whatever popped into their heads.

On this evening, their conversation was disrupted by an altercation between two other patrons over what appeared to be a bar seat. Leech had casually stated that all boys have a bit of a violent streak in them.

“Not Dale,” Leta responded with a smile about her own son.

“How old is he?” Leech asked. “Thirteen?”

“Twelve,” Leta said.

“Twelve. Thirteen. Doesn’t matter. He’ll grow into it before too long.”

“What do you mean?” Leta inquired.

“You don’t know much about this, Leta,” her companion said with confidence. “I mean, you grew up mostly with sisters, right? Your brothers were older and left when you were small?”

“Yes, but Aaron came back,” Leta clarified.

“As a man.”

Leta nodded.

“So what you don’t know is how boys get when they start turning into men. More aggressive. More physical. They like to start taking charge of things, doing what they want. My old man had so many problems with my brothers and Cedric—and me, too—that it nearly killed him.

“For example,” Leech continued, “my oldest brother—Albert—got into a big ruckus with another fellow over a girl. He was about 18 and still living at home. Both fellows worked at the same place, and there was a young lady there that they both were fond of. She was the owners’ daughter, as I recall, and about sixteen, maybe seventeen—marrying age. One day the other fellow brought her some flowers and gave them to her right in front of my brother. I don’t know if the fellow did it on purpose or he really had feelings for the girl, but what he did set my brother off. Jealous, Protective. Call it what you want. He said something not very nice and then socked the fellow right in the jaw. He didn’t hit him hard enough to knock him out, so the other fellow responded in kind. Soon they were in fist-to-cuffs. Albert was sent home from work early with a fat lip and a black eye. I remember him walking in the house. Mama—that’s what we called our stepmother—fixed him up, but since my old man worked at the same place, he was a bit furious about the whole thing. Albert nearly lost his job. Father had to use a lot of influence to get him off.”

“What happened with the girl?” Leta inquired.

Leech thought for a moment.

“I don’t remember, but I think she was playing around with the both of them boys. And some others even. Not, you know, inappropriately…but toying with each one. I know she didn’t marry Albert.”

“So you think she was responsible?” Leta pressed.

“Look, Leta, all I know is my brother thought she was interested in him, so he responded. That’s how she acted. End of story.”

Leta took a sip of her drink.

To be continued.

Leech Hoose, part four

Leta did not blame Vivian for being harassed, but the situation weighed heavily upon her. After all, she had brought her children to this—to living in an unfriendly and dangerous neighborhood, penniless and with no protection. Her marriage to Ora Freeman, the semi-employed house painter who wanted to spend more of his time with his friend and sometimes employer Alfred Hayward than with her, had dissolved to where she needed to petition for divorce. He was unwilling to support them, citing a steady decline in work over the past year. As for herself, there had been such a large influx of country folk into Toledo over the past several years, eager for work, with greater housekeeping and food preparation skills than hers and a willingness to work for lower wages, that in spite of her capability and eagerness to work, she could find no steady employment. Besides, she had children (ages 15 and 12) to take care of. It was summer, and she could do nothing more than try to maintain as simple and respectful a life style as she could.

Her only respite were the several nights per week that she left the house, walked four blocks to the trolley and then traveled to a speakeasy a couple of miles away. There she would have several drinks and wonderful conversation with a nicely dressed gentleman named Leech Hoose.

While there were other men in the establishment, several of whom made their interest in her obvious, she preferred her conversations with Mr. Hoose. Still, conversations with him were not helping her pay the bills. While her siblings had been helping enough—with meals, hand-me-down clothing, leftovers, even finding her little sewing jobs here and there—it was not enough to sustain them. Leta worried.

The August incident where two neighborhood boys accosted her daughter Vivian both infuriated and distressed her. While Vivian seemed to lack any interest in boys, Leta knew that girls her age were susceptible to the advances of boys and even men. And Vivian was a pretty girl with an alluring figure. Her son Dale was more easily distracted, and when school began in the fall, he became involved in a small band of rougher boys. Most were older; some were cruel to her 12-year-old; and a couple, Leta was sure, were more interested in Vivian than Dale. More than once she caught them engaged in activities that seemed to be spying.

Leech told her he worked in a factory that made parts for automobiles. He had been born in New London, Ohio, a village with several hundred people. His father worked on the railroad. His mother died in childbirth when he was five, and his father subsequently married a woman with one son, about his same age. He also had four older siblings, two boys and two girls. As the two girls were between him and his brothers, he had very little interaction with them. Having a stepbrother about his own age should have been a good experience, but, as he told her, it was not. His stepbrother was resentful of being in the family and took out his anger and frustration at the situation on him. The only person in their family he seemed to like was Leech’s older sister Clare, but she would have little to do with him.

“Cedric,” Leech told her one night as they witnessed an altercation at the speakeasy between two men over a seat at the bar, “was always starting fights like that.”

“But I think the other fellow took his seat,” Leta said.

“It was empty when I looked over.”

“He was there before,” Leta disagreed.

“But look how angry and violent he is,” Leech pointed out.

Leta did agree with that. One fellow started the pushing and then struck the first and second blows. Before the altercation could turn into a brawl, they watched the doorman forcefully separate the two and send them both out of the building. A multi-person exchange would most likely draw the attention of the police, which would then lead to intervention by federal agents and the ultimate closure of the illegal establishment. While Prohibition was becoming less and less enforced, there were still plenty of arrests and closures. The owners obviously did not want that to happen to their pub.

“Your boy has some of that in him,” Leech said, as they returned to their drinks and conversation.

“Pardon me?” Leta questioned. She was not sure she heard him correctly. “Dale?”

“All boys do,” Leech clarified.

To be continued.