Mister Man's Daughter

Mister Man’s Daughter

           Daddy says the first thing you do when you get out of prison is find someone to marry. Mama is his number eight. If you put Mama next to Dolly Parton you couldn’t tell them apart, as long as they kept their mouths shut. Too bad for me I take after Daddy. We used to play catch or maybe go fishing when Jim Beam gave him the day off. Daddy taught me to sing harmony. Once when we was in the backyard singing I’ll Take You There Mama said, Take you where? You planning to sing your way to heaven, Mister Man? Then she said to me, Look at him, all puffed up like a little rooster. Daddy hollered Cock-a-doodle do! She took off running but it didn’t do her no good.

Once he took us to Cedar Point. I couldn’t hardly wait to ride the roller coaster but there was this huge long line. Daddy faked his leg was hurt and budged us to the front. They got wise and kicked us out and we laughed our asses off. That was the thing with Daddy, he always wanted us with him, laughing at how stupid everything was.

xxx

           We’re in a battered women’s shelter. Mama’s in intake and I’m in the playroom even though I’m ten and the toys are for little kids. I wouldn’t play with them anyhow because I stay on the lookout. Well, not exactly lookout, I listen for a kind of hum. No one can hear it but me. When it gets loud it means he’s coming and I have to hide or save Mama. You wouldn’t think a fifty-seven-pound girl could save a grown woman but I done it more than once. If Mama is in the kitchen when Daddy come’s home she’s trapped. But if he’s drunk enough I can bump him onto the couch and crawl onto his lap. Daddy, I say in my puppy voice. I lick his face and sing the song he made up. Look up high, look down low, where oh where did he go? Where oh where is Mister Man? I can find you, yes I can—tickle tickle tickle. By the time we got to the tickle Mama is gone.

xxx

           “Hello, Kristina, my name is Mrs. Jackson, I’m the children’s’ social worker.” Her voice circles the playroom and lands on me. She sits down and crosses her legs. “I understand you and your mother will be with us a few days. Is it okay if we chat?”

           I nod and move so I can see out the half-open door. I sit cross-legged on the floor, still wearing the clothes I wore to Jenna’s birthday party—my white sailor shirt with gold stars, cut-offs and flip-flops.

           Mrs. Jackson asks if I feel safe. Yeah I guess. I explain about the hum and how it started one week ago Friday but it’s gone now.

           “I’m so glad you feel safe and that the hum is gone. I understand you witnessed some violence yesterday. I’m sure that was upsetting. Would you like to talk about it?”

           Mama says I should always tell the truth but she doesn’t. “Well. Daddy beats Mama almost every day.” 

           She nods, I guess she knew that, why else would we be here? She wonders whether my father was ever violent toward me.

           “Never. Well, once when I was six. Back then he only beat Mama on Fridays, after he got done with Mr. Beam. But it was Sunday and he promised he’d teach me to ride my bike only he got drunk. I thought he was passed out on the couch, so I slid my little fingers into his pocket. His hand clamped around my wrist.” I grab my own wrist to demonstrate. “ ‘Daddy, I’m sorry. This here dollar fell out of your pocket and I was just putting it back.’ ”

           “He sat up without letting go my hand. ‘Stealing and lying. Oh, baby girl, what’m I gonna do about you?’ ”

           “ ‘Whip me.’ ”

           “ ’Go outside and fetch me a blade of grass.’ His face was stern. I started bawling. I was so ashamed, all I ever wanted was to make him proud. He made me go out and bring him a blade of grass and he bent me over his knee. That’s the one time he whipped me—with a blade of grass.”

           Mrs. Jackson writes it down. “Kristina, I believe you said the hum started one week ago Friday. Did something happen then?” She has pretty teeth.

           “Yes, ma’am. When I got home from school I come around the corner of the house and seen my kitty stuck to the side of the house with a knife. Mama and Daddy were inside screaming and yelling, then thwack!” —I clap my hands—"It sounded like a steak hitting the sidewalk.”

           Mrs. Jackson frowns.

           “I run inside. Mama was on the floor, not moving. Daddy went crashing down the hall, then I heard him fall onto the bed. I got down by Mama. She whispered to go next door and call the cops. I bust into the neighbor’s house, run to the phone and punched 911. ‘Come right now and take my Daddy to jail and bring a ambulance for my mama.”

           “Good thinking.” Mrs. Jackson sounds impressed. “What did you do after they took your parents? Were you by yourself?”

           “Just for a minute. Mama had to stay overnight in the hospital. She had a concussion and a broken rib. She said we was getting a divorce but not to tell Daddy. She was scared, and the hum was loud. I’m pretty sure it comes from Daddy getting his wires get crossed.”

           Mrs. Jackson looks worried so I tell her I like her necklace. She thanks me and says to go on.      

           “Daddy got out of jail on Tuesday but he didn’t come home. The hum was still loud so I stayed up all night watching for him. That’s when I saw it in my mind’s eye—he was coming to Jenna’s birthday party. I told Mama what I seen and she said well, he’s Jenna’s daddy, he has a right to be there. Mama said he wouldn’t try nothing with the others around.”

           “Others?”

           “Well, yeah. Daddy’s got seven ex-wives and they all got kids.”

           Mrs. Jackson shifts around like there’s a Lego or something under her butt. “So, there y’all are at Jenna’s birthday party.”

           “Yup. Everybody was watching Daddy, they don’t tolerate wife-beating at a birthday party. Daddy was behaving but a couple times I caught him watching Mama. Then Jenna asked me to play with little Joshie, her baby, she said he was cranky from teething. Joshie’s my little buddy, he calls me Isha.” Just saying Isha like Joshie does makes me smile. “When I picked him up he was happy even though his ear was hurting. He let me soothe him but then he started fussing and after a while he was screaming. Jenna put him in his crib in the bedroom and shut the door. She put some music on and we was playing Twister but we could still hear him. All of a sudden he went quiet. He was dead but we didn’t know it yet. Jenna walked in a while later and screamed and picked up the pillow from his face but it was too late. Daddy left out the back door. Mama and I come straight here.”

           Mrs. Jackson’s gone white under her dark skin. She’s staring at me kind of weird so I know I shouldn’t be smiling. “Kristina, I’m so sorry about little Joshie. How do you feel about that?”

           “Mama says he’s in heaven. With Jesus.”

           “Yes, he is.” Mrs. Jackson looks really sad. “You’ve survived some very hard times at your young age.” She must be thinking about my future, thinking it don’t look too bright. “Have you and your mother ever stayed in a shelter before?”

           “No, but we thought about it. We been on the run my whole life—either Mama and me running from Daddy or all three of us running from the law. Daddy says I’m tough like him. Mama says I’m sweet like her.” Mama and Daddy are liars and I am too, but I don’t tell Mrs. Jackson that.

           She says, “Now that the hum is gone you must be real eager to sleep.”

           “Yes, ma’am.” And that is the truth.

xxx

I have a sister. Half-sister. How could I be ten years old and Mama never told me?

You think I’d a known, seeings how I can hear and see stuff. Not anymore, it’s a mess. Before we got on the bus to come north I thought Daddy was the problem. Now I’m seeing Mama in a new light. Like maybe she got Syd taken away for a reason. For a hot second I go pit bull and shake her till her eyes fly out. Not really, I’m not like Daddy, just, people got a right to know they got a sister.

xxx

Mama called Syd and told her we was coming. Syd knew, but after three days, when we finally got off the bus she wasn’t there. Mama kept looking for her, she wouldn’t say a word, like none of this was real, then she started with her little jerks and led herself into a full-on spell. I sat her down and patted her hand and talked calm until she shuddered and closed her eyes. Then I took the paper with Syd’s address out of her hand and asked the ticket lady how to get to Syd’s house.

At first I had to get under Mama’s shoulder and force her to move but once we was outside the wind woke her up. Too bad cause then she started in, what happened to Syd? What if Syd’s not home? What if she’s waiting back at the station? Maybe she changed her mind about us? I kept pointing ahead and saying we’re almost there. The closer we got the slower Mama walked. By the time we found Syd’s trailer I was frozen with cold and Mama was frozener with fear so I was the one knocking on the door.

Syd opened the door right away, like she seen us coming. She stood there with her eyes popped out. My eyes popped too because Syd was perfect. Her head was kind of big and her super-shiny hair looked like it might slide off and she had a scar on her forehead but otherwise she was perfect.

Our eyes went around and around, from Mama to Syd to me, like we was trying to get in the same basket, a tisket a tasket, I lost it and when I found it they was still hanging onto each other like I wasn’t real but then Syd let go of Mama and grabbed me. I smelled perfume on top of cigarettes and that put us all back in the same basket.

Mama said hey there little sassy-pretty. Syd said right back, well look who’s pretty sassy. Like it was yesterday.

“So, sis,” Syd said to me, finally, in her  husky voice. “What do I call you?”

“Isha.” It just came out.

“Oh, baby girl!” Mama grabbed me to her and started to blubber. Tears ran down the back of my throat and I took a big breath that turned into bawling and then we all had us a good cry. Mama thought I was crying for Joshie and I was but for Daddy too.

xxx

Dear Mrs. Jackson, 

Thank you for the birthday card. I never got one in the mail before. How do you know where we live? And how did you know it was my birthday? Oh, you got it in your files, right?      Thank you for the teddy bear. Mama had a melt-down and I ended up leaving him in the bus station.  I named him Joshie. I guess you got Joshie in your files. Don’t it make you sad sometimes?

Surprise—I’m in judo! Double surprise—I can talk Japanese: sensei, kiai. I can count to ten and sing a song about a elephant. Lucky is my sensei, that means teacher. He’s the one teaching me Japanese.

           Something I want to ask, have you heard anything about Gene Maxwell? Do you know if he’s in jail? I can’t hear the hum no more.

           This is the first letter I ever wrote. Hope you like it. If you want you can write back.

           Yours truly,

           Kristina Maxwell

           PS       What do you do for fun? Also, Mama has a boyfriend.

xxx

Dear Kristina,

What a delight to get your letter! I’m so glad to know you and your mama are safe.

You are right, sometimes my work does make me sad, so when I get good news it makes me very happy! When I read your letter I could hear your voice speaking. You have a nice storytelling voice. I’m so proud of you for taking judo! It’s wonderful that you’re learning Japanese. Who knows, maybe someday you’ll go to Japan, wouldn’t that be fun?

Please send me a picture of you in your judo uniform. I’ll put it on my bulletin board where I can see it every day and it will encourage me when I’m feeling sad.

Your daddy is in jail for auto theft and destroying a police car. According to the story in the newspaper the officer left the keys in his car and your daddy took it for a joy ride and when the cops started chasing him he crashed the barrier in front of the drawbridge and dove into the river. Most people wouldn’t have survived but the EMT said his high blood alcohol level saved his life. He’ll be in prison for at least two years, so you don’t have to worry.

           Now I’ve got a surprise for you. I have my own band, the Glories. We’re not famous but we love to sing and nothing beats performing in front of a live audience. The picture is from our last concert. Can you figure out which one is me?

           Since I’m a social worker I have advice. Be patient with your mama and her boyfriend. You’re both going through big changes and it takes time to adjust. Keep me posted about what is happening. My phone number is at the bottom of the page if you need it, but I’m sure everything is going to work out.

           Warm regards,

           Gloria Jackson

xxx

           Dear Miss Gloria,

           I heard you singing online. We usually listen to country but I liked the song about the Boo Hag. You got a nice voice too. My sister said you should hitch up your skirt and show a little more leg.

           Mama and I cracked up about Daddy diving the cop car into the river. Sounds just like him. Mama says you shouldn’t be surprised if he escapes from jail. It wouldn’t be the first time.

           Here’s two pictures for you. You can thank Lucky, he’s the one standing between me and Peanut. We got our yellow belts on the same day. The next one is blurry cause I’m fighting Kennedy. Lucky wants me to work out with weights cause almost everyone is bigger than me, even Kennedy and she’s only eight.

           My sister got fired from her exotic dancer job. She don’t care, she says she’d rather clean houses with Mama. School is about to let out so I can clean too.

           Mama’s boyfriend DeWayne is the manager of our park. We get free rent because we clean the trailers after someone moves out. We done it twice so far. The first time was nasty.

           All for now,

           Love,

           Isha

           PS       I go by Isha now. I guess you know why.

Xxx

Dear Isha,

I’m glad you liked the Boo Hag song, it’s one of my favorites.

You were right about your daddy. He escaped and has not been found. I hope your mama got an alert from the hotline. Sometimes people change phones, so I wanted to make sure you knew. I hope your mama has kept your location a secret but that is often hard. I’m asking you and your mama to be extra cautious until your daddy is found. Please call 911 if you see him. Will you promise me?

Don’t worry too much, escapees are usually caught within a few days, he’s probably in or near Fort Myers, but it never hurts to be cautious.

All for now,

Your friend Gloria

xxx

“Mrs. Jackson, I think this might be an emergency.”

“Well, then, Isha, it’s good you called. Tell me what’s happening.”

“You know that promise? How you wanted me to call 911? Well, I aint seen him but he’s here.”

“Your daddy? Can you tell me how you know?”

“I was at the pond, it’s like my private hangout, it’s where I go to watch frogs. There I was, sitting in the willow tree, holding real still cause I thought I saw a frog, when a Jim Beam bottle bobbed out from under a lily pad. Then guess what?”

“Oh dear. Did you hear the hum?”

“It was loud.”

“Did you tell your mother?”

Mama snatches her phone away from me. “Who you talking to? Did you tell her you stole this phone out of my purse?” She holds the phone to her ear and says in a different voice, “Mrs. Jackson, we appreciate your concern—” Mrs. Jackson must of said something about 9-1-1. “And tell them what? Sissy saw a bottle and heard a hum?” Without saying goodbye she clicked off.

I say, “Good thing I know judo.”

“Stop worrying, Sissy. DeWayne got me a little gun.”