A Haven Amidst Perdition

By Sidra Owens

In the backdrop of the South in the 1940s, Eve, a mixed race girl in the deep country, has a not-so-memorable past and a less-than-hopeful future. Living with Mae Evelyn, her neglectful mother and Bear, her malevolent stepfather, Eve is forced to suffer physical indignities and abuses, in order to carry out the domestic duties, of which she is solely responsible. When Bear observes her having to put down the family cow, her courage and sorrow unexpectedly softens him towards her, allowing him to see the woman she is becoming. Hoping for a chance at autonomy, Eve attempts to work with her mother at the local courthouse, but winds up incurring the elder's wrath, as Eve's no nonsense personality ignites the interest of the hiring boss, Judge Latham Honeycutt. In a torrent of discovery, the slow burning embers of real love cause Eve to flee from her abusive home, running into the arms of uncertainty, where at every turn she guards herself against the fury of her mother, the uncertainty of her employer and the outright hatred from the society in which she lives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sidra Owens
• Release date: Apr 27, 2017
• ISBN: 9781478786689

Sidra Owens

Sidra Owens was a writer, to greater and lesser degrees, for most of her pre-college education.  Displaying all the stubborn presumptions that accompanies young adulthood, she ran from her natural calling, leaping head long into the analytics of the biological and chemical sciences, and falling squarely on her face with a resounding thud.  Setting aside secondary education, she expanded her artistic horizons and her storytelling expertise through experimentation with tabletop and verbal role play, allowing her to master the ability to develop characters, their motives and the worlds where they dwell.  With Wildflowers being her second published work, she demonstrates the abilities she has honed since leaving college.  Having returned to secondary education and obtaining her Bachelor of Science in Behavioral and Social Science, she will be able to add greater historical and sociological depths to the characters that are clamoring for their stories to be told.

Book preview

Chapter 1:  Same Shit, Different Day

It’s four in the mornin’ and the rooster is crowin’.  I got to get up when he does or I be late gettin’ breakfast started.  Mama likes for food to be on the table when she gets home from work.  She works at night cleanin’ all the rooms at the courthouse, and she always home by six o’clock every mornin’.  You could set a rooster by it.

Throwing the covers back, Eve shivers as the cold outside of the bed, chases away the warmth of sleep.  After a brief stretch and a yawn, she swings her feet to the cold, wooden floor, where she quickly searches for her boots with her toes.  Unable to find them, she reaches to her far right with her eyes closed and snags them, smiling when she feels her wool sock stuffed inside.  Once her feet are snug inside her boots, she throws on her house coat and walks to the bathroom in the dark.

People think we are livin’ high on the hog, cuz we got a bathroom indoors.  Mama been working at the courthouse so long, she make a good wage.  So we got indoor plumbin’ and a lookin’ glass.  I can’t go to school no more.  Mama says that I’m fourteen and I need to learn how to pull my weight.  So I got to do the cookin’ and cleanin’ ‘til I turn sixteen and then she say she can get me a job workin’ wit’er.  That be good.  Maybe then I can live in town on my own and make some friends.  Ain’t no friends out here in the country.  Just chickens and the stray dogs that like hangin’ around Bertha.  She our cow.

While staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, there is a sudden hard thud on the bathroom door, before it flies open.  Quickly turning around, Eve can see Bear standing at the door in the dim lantern light.  His eyes are half closed with sleep, but you can see the reddened rim of his lids and smell the moonshine on him.  As she backs far into the corner, he briefly cuts his eyes at Eve, before standing at the toilet, exposing himself and beginning to urinate in front of her.  Unconsciously rubbing the scabbed over cut in her hairline, she remains quiet as the grave, staring up at the back of his head until he finishes.  Pulling the chain to flush, he cuts his eyes at her and heads out of the bathroom door.

You make too much goddamn noise.  Don’t wake me up again.  Bear says in a drink laden, gravelly voice.

Holding her breath, Eve remains motionless until she can hear the bedroom door close.  Then she allows herself to breathe again.

That’s Bear.  He mama’s husband.  They ain’t married official.  They ain’t been to see the preacher or nothin’ like that, but they live like husband and wife.  Folks ain’t too picky about that stuff in the country.  Naw, he ain’t my daddy.  He and mama had a baby boy a long time ago, but he died.  Now he drink most of the time.  He work second shift at the mill and brew moonshine to sell.  But he drink more of it than he sell.  Lucky for us, mama job so good.  He don’t like me none.  Cuz I ain’t his.

Taking the lantern in her hand, Eve makes the short trip from the bathroom to the kitchen.  The room is dark and still smells of last night's fried chicken.  Pulling her house dress closer to her body, she exhales with a shiver, watching as the icy fog of her breath dissipates several inches in front of her.  Turning to the right, she goes to the back door, which has a heavy wooden beam barricading it.  Setting the lantern down, she uses both hands to lift it off and set it in the corner, before taking the lantern back up and going out into the cold morning.

Crossing the back yard, Eve looks around for Bertha in the small, fenced in pasture, as she approaches the chicken coup.  Once inside, she retrieves seven eggs and places them in a basket that hangs on a nail just outside the door.  Carrying the lantern and the basket, she steps back into the yard, but Bertha is nowhere to be found.  Going to the small barn where she sleeps, she sets down the basket and pushes the door open.  Lifting the lantern, she can see Bertha lying on her side, very still.

Oh, no, no, no, Bertha!  You can’t be sick, heifer, not today.  Not any day.  Eve calls out bewildered.

She places a hand on the cow’s snout and feels the elevated temperature.  Looking Bertha over, Eve raises the lantern and looks down at her utters, that are a bright red.  Gently, she places a hand against it, and it is hard to the touch, causing the cow to cry out in obvious pain.  Pulling her hand away and gently rubbing her snout once again, Eve lowers her head and sits quietly for a mere moment, before rising and grabbing a large piece of burlap, hanging from a nail on the wall.  She drapes the piece of cloth over the young cow, covering as much of her as she can, before turning and leaving her alone in the cold darkness.

When the sun begins its daily trek across the sky, Eve sets a bowl of oatmeal on the table, with a bowl of sugar, brown sugar and cinnamon around it.  She places a mason jar of water next to it, and almost immediately, Bear steps into the kitchen and stands for just a moment, surveying the room and leering at her.  He is shirtless this morning, wearing only a pair of boxer shorts and scratching his abdomen in that absent-minded way that men do immediately after waking.  He stands at nearly 6’6" tall and he is a darker skinned brown man.  Unlike most other country men, who are strong, but fat with a big gut, he is thickly muscled, resulting from years of working in the saw mill.  After a long yawn and stretch, he strolls over to the table, slightly dragging his feet.  Once there, he pulls out his chair, sits down and begins spooning the spices into his oatmeal.  Slowly, he begins to mix the contents of his bowl, while looking around the table.  Next, his eyes fall on his mason jar of water, and his lip begins to curl, as he stares at Eve.

Where’s the milk?  Bear asks.

Ain’t none.  Eve answers.

Whatchu mean, ain’t none?  Ya know, I put milk in my oatmeal and drink a glass wit e’ery meal. Where is it?

Bertha’s sick.  Ain’t no milk.  She got the fever.  Eve explains.

Bertha?  You mean that heifer out dere?  You ain’t got but one job, keep da house and mind them animals, and you can’t do that?  Bear asks with increasing venom.

Facing him, Eve says, I bathes her utters e’ery day, but you won’t let me use no vinegar to disinfect’em.  Them dogs always sucklin’ from her and they ain’t clean.

Standing up, he says, So is it my fault?  Is that whatcha say?

Backing up, she says, If you could fix the fence, so they can’t get to’er... You’d have milk e’ry morning, Bear.

Grabbing his drinking  jar, he hurls it at Eve’s face, who is just able to get her arm up to absorb the impact, causing it to ricochet upward, skid across the kitchen cabinets and then shatter on the floor.  When she lowers her arms, Bear is standing nose to nose with her, leering down at her and breathing his fowl morning breath into her face.

I’m gon’ have milk today.  Take yo bastard ass down the road and get some from somebody.  He demands of her.

Trembling, she softly asks, But what about mama’s breakfast?  You know she want her eggs and ham?

You better go fast then.  He says, while backing up to the table. Disinfect... Hmph, like you know something.  I’ll tell you what I know, we bet not ha dis talk tomorrow.

Pushing the chair back with his foot, he plops down, as Eve scampers across the kitchen and out the back door.  Once outside, she does not stop her forward momentum, even with the fear coursing through her, making her shutter from head to toe.  Looking up at the quickly brightening sky, she breaks into a run, knowing that she is running out of time.  After about ten minutes, she arrives at the nearest home, which belongs to the local preacher.  Heavily out of breath, she leans over resting with her hands on her knees, looking at the small white house with foreboding, before slowly approaching the door.

I’on’t have no more options.  He the nearest and I gotta get back home.  He the local preacher, but he ain’t like preachers in town.  He ain’t got know education or even a church.  But since he claim to know the bible and can shout good, folks gather on Sunday, looking for salvation.  I ain’t lookin’ for it; I lookin’ for a real way outta here.  I’on’t e’en know his name.  He just preacher.

Still breathing rapidly, Eve knocks hard and fast on the screen door, and waits impatiently for 10 seconds.  She is about to knock again, when the front door steadily opens.  The smell of cigarettes floods out of the home, forcing Eve to cough despite her over worked lungs.  As the screen door opens, she backs up and a short, fat man steps out onto the porch, pulling his suspenders up over his shoulders.  His thinning hair is greasy and slicked back on his head.  His yellow eyes narrow on her slightly, before a not-so-righteous smile touches his lips.

Eve.  It sho is early honey.  Whatchu doin’ here, girl?  Preacher asks her.

I’m right sorry to disturb ya sir, but our cow is sick and ain’t gave no milk this morning.  And I need some awful bad.  Could you please give us a bottle?  Eve asks.

Well, that sounds like a problem.  I’ll charge ya 30cents, Eve.

Swallowing hard, she says, I ain’t got 30 cents, sir.

Hmm, sounds like a bigger problem.  That cow of yours get sick often.  I got five cows and they all healthy as a horse.  Ya hear dat girl?!  That’s funny, girl!  He bellows while slapping his knee with laughter.  Calming, he says, You hold on a minute girl.

Taking a deep breath, Eve glances up at the brighter sky, as he goes back inside.  He comes back within a minute and he is carrying two bottles of fresh, cold milk.

This whatcha need girl?  He asks with a smirk.

Yes, sir.

Nodding, he sets both bottles on the porch, and then stands up straight, looking at her with his head tilted slightly back, while nearing her.

How old are you, Eve?

I’m 14, sir.  She answers.

Ya need to start thinking about your future.  You marrying age and you need a man to take care of you.  Preacher tells her.

Mama say in another year, I’m gon’ work wit her.  She say I ain’t old enough for no marriage.  Eve says.

I’m gonna talk to your mama.  See if I can convince her that I’s good for ya.  Maybe I can convince you too.  He says while circling around behind her.

Closing her eyes, she bites her bottom lip, when she feels his hands lightly touch her shoulders and slowly slide down her chest and over her breasts.

Yo mama raised a good girl.  Nobody can really see what good titties you got under those big clothes; but a man with experience like myself can tell.  Preacher says.

Slowly, he begins to rub her breasts in circles, strongly squeezing them on and off.

Preacher, I got to get home before mama does; less she gone tan my hide.  She pleads.

Don’t rush me now.

Pulling up the front of her oversized house dress, he slides his hands up her abdomen, and settles back on her breasts, using his dry fingertips to stimulate her nipples in slow circles.  This continues for several minutes before gripping both breasts one final time and releasing her.  Then, he walks back in front of her, picks up the two bottles of milk and hands them to her.

You think about that now.  And enjoy your milk, Eve.

Thank you, sir. She says, while taking the bottles and running as fast as she can out of his yard. 

The run back home takes longer, since she is carrying the bottles and still reeling from the visit at the preacher’s home.  When she gets to her front yard, she can see the light on in the kitchen and she can hear her mother and Bear arguing inside the house.  With a deep breath, she runs up the back steps and slides to halt only a few feet from her mother.

Where the hell you been?  I been workin’ all night and got no breakfast when I get in.  I’m ‘bout to get the switch and whoop up on your ass, girl!  Her mother yells at her.

I’m sorry, mama.  Bear told me to go find some milk for his oatmeal and he didn’t care how.  She answers while putting the milk on the table.

Why we need milk?  We got that expensive cow so we don’t have to buy no milk.

Bertha sick mama.  Think she got infection in her teats again.  Eve tells her.

I told you to take care of the damn cow.

I do mama, but Bear says I can’t waste no vinegar on’er and them mangy dogs keep sucklin’ off’er.

Shut the hell up talkin’ bout me.  And get me some fresh damn oatmeal.  He yells at her.

As Eve tries to slip past her mother to the stove, she stops her and tilts Eve’s head towards her.

How you get the cut on yo scalp?

I was bringin’ Bear a jar a shine last night, and I tripped on his boot in the middle of the floor and I dropped it and it broke.  So he hit me and made me clean it up.  She confesses, slightly withering under Bear’s venomous leer.

Quickly, Eve’s mother turns on Bear, nearly screaming.  How the hell you gon yell at me ‘bout her not makin’ breakfast, when you steady beatin’ on her!  Stop hittin’ on this child like that!  You ain’t got the sense that God gave nobody!

Mae Evlyn, you need to shut the hell up, too, or you’ll get the same!  Now make my damn oatmeal, Eve!

Seeing her mother wither as well, Eve slides past her and starts remaking his oatmeal and frying her eggs and ham.  Agonizing minutes pass until she sets the bowl of oatmeal in front of Bear and the plate of eggs and ham in front of her mother.  When they begin to eat in silence, she grabs the second bottle of milk and places it in the ice box.

Who gave you that milk, Eve?  Mae Evlyn asks her.

Preacher did, ma’am.

Oh, Preacher did.  You know he’s a good man.  He thinks a lot of you.  He tells me so.  She says with beaming pride.

Yes, ma’am.

When the kitchen falls silent again, Eve waits a few moments, before walking behind her mother and to the bathroom, where she closes the door behind her. For several minutes, she stands in the dark, taking deep breathes, trying to regain the calm that had been missing since she found Bertha before dawn.  Once the sound of her heart seems steady she turns on the light and looks at herself in the looking glass.  Tilting her chin up, she examines her high cheek bones, as the overhead light causes her hazel eyes to sparkle.  She rubs the light, almost yellowish brown skin over her cheeks and down her neck, before pushing her straggly curly, light brown hair behind her ears.

Mama say that I ain’t never gon’ have to worry about pressin’ and straightenin’ my hair.  It’s already as good as white folks, since my daddy white.  I never seen’im and she don’t talk about him, but that’s how come I look so diff’rent than her.  She short and brown, with a big round butt and small titties, and thick, nappy hair.  She pretty, but a diff’rent pretty than me.  I’m taller with long legs and the same big round butt, but my titties is fuller and rounder and prettier and just plain bigger.  That’s why she get my clothes so big; so nobody can really see.  I hate that fuckin’ Preacher.  He ain’t no godly man.  Anytime I got to beg for something, he got to feel on me, and I seen’im do it to other girls, too, when he think ain’t nobody lookin’.  They be rumors that some of the young girls be havin’ babies and that they his, but they don’t tell and he don’t neither.  I hate him so much... But when he touch me... I like it when he touch me.  The way it feel in my titties and low down between my legs.  Mama calls it my treasure.  I’m 14 and almost 15, and done already started bleedin’.  Mama say that now I can have babies, so I bet not let nobody near my treasure.  But when Preacher touch me, that’s what I feel like I need; somethin’ near my treasure.  I touch it myself a lot when I’m alone and it nice.  But feel like I missin’ something special.  I mean I know what grown people do.  I seen it when Bear and mama do it.  I scared of’im, but when he be on top of her, I be wishin’ it me.  Sometimes I hate myself for feelin’ that way.  Sometimes I don’t.

Standing in the bathroom, with her house dress pulled up, Eve quietly pleasures herself, bringing herself nearer and nearer to much needed satisfaction, when there is a sudden thud on the door.

Com’on outta there, Eve.  I got to bathe and go to bed.  And you gotta make Bear’s lunch and dinner ‘fo he go to the mill.  Yo know how he is now.  Com’on outta der.  Her mama demands.

Looking in the mirror, Eve sighs heavily, before lowering her dress, washing her hands and returning to the kitchen.

Chapter 2:  Even Bad Men Feel Pain

Don’t no vets come ‘round here.  So I doin’ the best I can for Bertha.  I raised her from a calf, but I’on’t have a lot of say when it comes to how things  done ‘round the house, so.... I can only do so much.  Her fever higher now, and I can’t get her to drink no water.  I put cool cloths on her, but she not really movin’ much.  Breathin’ rapid and shallow.  The sun is high, but it still cold in this little shed today.  Even that don’t keep her cool.  I don’t think she gone make it, but...  This the last thing I know to do... What he won’t let me do.

Leaving the small dilapidated barn that Bertha has always called home, Eve goes back to the house, entering the kitchen through the back door.  As she moves to the cupboard, she can hear Bear and Mae Evlyn talking civilly in the sitting room.

I’m teachin’ her to take care of e’erything, Bear.  Why can’t you help‘er?  Mae Evlyn asks.

She ain’t mine to teach.  Bear says.

But she’s mine.  I mean; she part of me.  Ain’t that enough?  She pleads.

We had something that was part of you; and me.  Don’t’chu ‘member him?  Bear asks with a slight edge to his voice.

I remember.  It hurts.  It hurts to remember.  We were so poor and broke.  Couldn’t afford no good doctor.  He just die.  That fever took him from us and he gone.  But it like part of you died wit’im.  She says.

I ain’t gone talk to you about this.  You don’t understand how a man feel, woman.  Never have.  They gone be here soon.  I got to go to work.  Bear says with a wave of his hand.

Please Bear.  I listenin’.  Mae Evlyn pleads.

After several moments of silence, Bear puts down his paper lunch sack, and looks directly into her eyes.

My boy dead.  Just a year old.  Hadn’t even lived good yet, but he gone.  Then you get that good job in the courthouse and we livin’ little better.  Swear we never have another child die cuz we poor.  And I support’cha.... Then, you... You get raped by that rich white man that hire ya.  And I understand.  We ain’t got no say.  You can’t quit.  We need that money.  Ain’t no colored woman gone get a job like that so easy.  So you stay and keep quiet, like we always do.  But my pride hurt.  I can’t do nothing to protect ya.  It hard to look you in the face.  Then you have that baby.  His baby.  Dat bastard bitch out there.  And she tear you up so bad... You barren.  Can’t have babies no more.  Can’t have my babies no more.  So I stuck raising this bastard child of a rapist.  I can’t leave you.  I loves you.  So where does that leave me?  Half a man with a bastard for a daughter.  She ain’t no part a me, Mae Evlyn.  Bear finishes.

We’s a family, Bear.  She a good girl.  She not fast.  And she do everything best she can.  Giv’er a chance.  We a family.  Mae Evlyn says, while reaching out to touch his hand.

Eyes slightly glassy, he pulls his hand away and picks up his lunch sack.

I hear the truck.  I gots to go.

Before he can leave the house, Eve is already in the back yard, carrying a large bowl of vinegar.  Once inside the small barn, she kneels next to Bertha, and uses a clean cloth to swab vinegar over her swollen utters.  Bertha does not even make a sound; only lies there breathing shallow and fast.  After an hour or so, Bertha doesn’t seem any better, but she isn’t any worse, so Eve goes back inside, alone. 

It’s one o’clock and mama is sleepin’ heavy ‘til she gotta go in for her 10 hour night shift.  Bear gone to the saw mill, where he be workin’ his own 10 hour shift.  My shift don’t never end.  I gotta clean the kitchen and get e’erything prepared for when mama go to work.  She told me exactly what she want for dinner; so I gotta get prepared.  I knew Bear won’t my daddy.  I knew some white man was my daddy.  Mama told me that long time ago when I ask her why I look so different.  But I didn’t know she got raped and I didn’t know she couldn’t have no mo babies cuz a me.  I feel bad.  I can’t help but so much because I was a baby, but I still feel bad.  Make me kinda understand why he treat me so bad.  Things ain’t good between Bear and mama.  They can’t spend time wit each other cuz they workin’ and they always argue.  The only thing they doin’ when they ain’t arguin’ is layin together. And they’on’t do that so much no more.  Sounds like somethin’ beautiful.  I shouldn’t be listenin’ or watchin’, but I can’t help myself.  I wanna know what it all about.

It is nearly time for Mae Evlyn to go to work, and Eve already has her lunch packed and ready for her to take to the courthouse.

Mama, is it hard workin’ at the courthouse cleanin’?  Eve asks.

No, baby.  Not too hard, but the work is steady.  But it’s good cuz nobody is there to disturb ya or to hafta work around.  Mae explains.

Can I come wit’chu one night, mama?  Ya know and helps you out.  I do good ‘round the house, I sure I could do it.  Eve asks her.

Maybe one day soon.  I think you could do it, but you be 15 soon.  Let’s do it then.

Ok, mama.  Eve says.

Giving her daughter a big hug, Mae holds her close to her.  Now I want ya to listen to me.  Try to stay out Bear’s way tonight, alright?  He not hisself right now.  Do ya hear me girl?

Yes, ma’am.  I set out his dinner hot and his shine cold. And steer clear of’im.  Eve promises.

With a deep sigh, Mae Evlyn releases her daughter, gathers up her lunch sack and leaves out of the back door, to make the two mile long walk to the bus stop.  As soon as her mother is out of sight, Eve sits down to a plate of her own home cooking that she is able to enjoy in peace and quiet.

Ev’ry evenin’ from seven o’clock to 10 o’clock, I have the whole house to myself and I can do what I wanna do.  All the dishes are washed and the rooms cleaned and the food cooked.  So I can past the time how I want to usually.  And I like to read.  When mama told me I was gon’ hafta stop going to school, I got all the books I could and hid’em deep under my bed.  Usually I sits by the window and read ‘til the sun go down and then I read by the lantern.  But tonight, since Bertha so sick, I’mma read to’er and hope that it soothes her, so at least if she die tonight... She won’t be lonely.  I hafta be careful when I read, cuz the books, they don’t talk like we do.  They talk real proper like white folks from town, so when I reads a lot my English gets correct.  Bear don’t like that.  He say I tryina be uppity, cuz I got white blood in me.  He beat me real bad that day.  Mama was real mad at’im, but she ain’t do nothin’ ‘bout it.  It think she scared a Bear, too.  He so big and so mean.  Seem like he hurtin’ though.  Hurtin’ bad.  ‘Bout like Bertha.  I can’t do nothin’ for’er.  Before I left school, I’s doin’ real good, with readin’ and writin’ the teacher says.  She say she know I got no choice ‘bout leavin’, so I got to be ‘sponsible for my education.  She gave me a book called Hamlet.  Writ long time ago.  It hard.  Make me wanna give up on readin’ all together, but I keeps tryin’.  The English they speak in that book ain’t like no English I ever heard.  I wouldn’ta believed it English if the teacher didn’t say so.  I done read it five times, and I gets it lot better now.  I even likes it.  It sad and beautiful and makes me mourn for myself.  I trapped, just like Hamlet.  He trapped in lies and trapped in his mind.  I trapped in this house and trapped in this life.  Only ways out is scary.  I startin’ to think that Bertha done found her way out and she ‘bout to take it.  She don’t move or moo or nothin’.  Just breathe fast; like that all she got left in’er to do.  Time always go fast when you doin’ whatcha wanna do.  And I was readin’ and readin’ and readin’ and somethin’ tells me that I need to get movin’, less I gets knocked in the head.  I puts down my book and leaves the little shed, closin’ the door behind me so the mangy dogs will leave poor Bertha alone.

When Eve gets inside, she takes the lantern over to the small cuckoo clock to see that it is 9:35pm; leaving her 25 minutes before Bear gets home from the mill.  Expertly, she places two logs on the fire to get it going, since she never makes the mistake