Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Giving up Vivian and Dale II, part two

When she first meet Leech Hoose, Leta was hiding from her unhappy life in a place where no one would know her. A couple of nights a week, after her children were in bed, she would leave the house quietly, take a trolley car three miles from her home and recuperate at a speakeasy for a couple of hours. She could not imbibe at any place locally, because her husband Ora might appear. While she didn’t know where he spent his evenings—at least not specifically—his patterns were easy to follow, and one of those patterns was to drink excessively at a local blind pig. If they saw each other at one of these haunts, an altercation of some sort was probable. She might even be the instigator, having a hot temper herself and considering his complete neglect and viciousness toward her and the children.

Ora left them for days at a time, much of the time with little to no financial resources to sustain them. Sometimes he was working, but more often than not, he was playing cards and drinking. Even when he was home, money was scarce, and she was constantly requesting credit—from the grocer, the butcher, the milkman, the power company and the phone company. More than once the savings and loan that provided Ora’s mortgage telephoned to notify them of past due and request immediate payment. In the mean time, she scrimped as much as she could in order to keep her children fed and a roof over their heads. This was her life.

No, this was not her life. She had the ability to alter it, and she was. However, the cost of the change was high, and she recognized that she would regret it. Still, as much as what she decided would cause great grief, what needed to be done needed to be done.

She was a mother; her children’s welfare was her concern—her primary concern.

The speakeasy she visited was not one she expected her husband to frequent. It hosted a better-dressed, more sophisticated crowd. For several months, she had been meeting Leech there, enjoying his humor and getting to know him. After the first couple of months, she wondered if perhaps he would be her rescuer. He owned his own home. He was a widower. He was funny. He was considerate. He had a good job and went to work every day. Once she was free of Ora, they would marry. Leech told her that.

But she did not know how long the divorce proceedings would take. Ora still had not signed the divorce papers. She did not know whether or not he was so reluctant because he believed in their dreadful marriage, wanted to torture her for not loving him (because she didn’t), or was simply too neglectful to really care.

The previous day she had received a visitor from the lending company. He had a document instructing her husband to make the past due financial payments on the loan of the house or be prepared for foreclosure. When she informed the agent that her husband was not at home, that he could found at any number of places, including his friend Alfred Hayward’s home, the agent sniffled and shook his head. He refused to take the notice back. It was dated; it was final. They had twenty-four hours to pay up or get out.

After the children arrived home from school and the three of them had a supper of oatmeal and toast, Leta put on her coat and went to three places where Ora might have been to deliver the message. He was not at either blind pig, and Alfred Hayward’s house was dark. She banged on the door in case both or either man was sleeping, but still no one answered.

She had spent her last bit of change on the trolleys and was forced to walk the several blocks home. It was deep in the night. While she could not see her own face, she could feel that every muscle and vein were tangled in fear and anger.

By the time she arrived back at the house, the dismal, dingy single man’s residence she had tried unsuccessfully to warm up for a family, Leta had made a decision.


To be continued.

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