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.
No comments:
Post a Comment