Under the Mulberry Tree Read online

house that was built upon wooden stilts.

  During the 1950’s most of the houses in Orlando, Florida were built on stilts on our side of the tracks, railroad tracks that is. And most of the roads were white sand, foot burning white sand when the sun shined, which in Orlando, Florida was all the time.

  Most of our neighbors didn’t own their own home, we rented form the more wealthy neighbors on the other side of the tracks. But as long as mama had a dime for a loaf of bread and we had our fishing pools at a lake, we didn’t care what went on, on the other side of the tracks.

  Upon returning back to the house from the errand, the neighborhood kids were playing kick ball and they asked if my brother and I wanted to play. No one in the neighborhood, kid or adult could pass up a good game of kickball. So we played and played on that hot sandy road in front of our houses until it grew dark and close to dinner time, and were all called in to our respected houses to wash and prepare for the evening meal.

  After the blessing of the food and before we began to eat mama asked for my Sunday dress so she could get it washed and ironed for next Sunday church service.

  My eyes grew as big as those delicious grapefruits my brother and I would steal from the neighbor’s tree. I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do, so I lied, not well mind you, but a stupid child’s lie that even a deaf parent could hear what I was saying was a lie. The kids saw us walking home from church and started throwing stuff at us.

  Mama my dress isn’t dirty, besides I washed it. My brother looked at me as if he was saying, you couldn’t think of a better lie than that? Gee girl, now we’re both going to get it. My brother and I were a team; we traveled together, played together, got in trouble together and lied together. And mama knew it.

  Shazier, would you go and get your sister dress so I can see it.

  But mom, my food is gonna get cold, Shazier protested.

  Right now Shazier, mom insisted.

  Daddy sat before his plate of fried chicken, mash potatoes and sweet peas enjoying every mouth full, with a very strange smile on his face.

  I was more like my daddy, and when he looked into my eyes I swear he had the vision of a prophet. Daddy could always tell when I was lying or if a lie was developing on my tongue.

  Go and help your brother find your dress Ronnie. Daddy wanted to see just how long my brother and I would play this lie out.

  The longer the lie was acted out the more severe the punishment was.

  So I did what was expected, I continued the lie.

  I went to our bedroom that accommodated five children in one king size bed, my older two sisters at the head of the bed and me and my baby sister along with my brother slept at the foot of the bed. This sleeping arrangement taught us. Don’t sleep curled up, stay straight, stay in your spot, and don’t scratch anything, no coughing in others faces, no peeing in bed and absolutely no farting, which by the way my brother enjoyed farting in bed just to get on our nerves.

  Our closet was a single steel rod nail to the corner of the room over our bed and one giant dresser with six drawers use only for our underwear. Oh, and by the way there was no door to our bedroom or any room for that matter, daddy would say “If you want privacy wait till you’ll sixty five years old and have your own children”. So slipping out of the room was no easy task, not impossible, just not easy.

  Shazier knew I would follow him, and as expected I found him sitting on the aging splintered filled floor under our single splinter filled wood frame slide up window that had no screen.

  Well? Smarty pants what are we going to do now? My brother asked me disgusted.

  Let’s go get the dress and show mama I washed the dress myself.

  Its dark outside, how are we going to get out of this room? Crazy girl. The kitchen is right next to our bedroom, if you haven’t noticed.

  Think of something Shazier, this is all your fault. I told you to let me change my clothes, but nooo you had to get the best berries. By the way where are those berries?

  I placed them under the house next to the bucket with your clothes.

  While Shazier was explaining to me where he had put the mulberries he was opening the window of the room.

  That old four room wood house that was built on stilts was at least six feet off the ground, or so it felt to me. I was about four three feet and Shazier was five feet.

  In my mind what I thought he was getting ready to do was break my neck, and if he was going to do what I thought he was going to do mama was also going to break my neck.

  No, no, no Shazier, I’m not going out of that window to my death, I whispered.

  Shazier whispered back, if we don’t get that dress, we are dead anyway after mama finish with us. So what’s it going to be Ronnie? Death by window or death by mama.

  Without answering my brother and without hesitation we both knew death by mama was far worse than falling out of the window and breaking our necks. So without any more hesitation I went first placing one leg out of the screen bare window that was being held open by a stick we always left by the window. Placing my other leg through the window I found myself in a backward motion, holding on to the splintering window’s ledge. Now ending up on my belly, I held the window ledge so tightly I could feel the splinters of wood slowly creeping their way into the skin of my fingers and hand.

  I can’t do this Shazier, my feet ain’t touching nothing. I’m going to kill myself.

  Flip, push, Shazier had lifted my hands from the window’s ledge and I fell to the sandy ground onto by butt. Shazier was jumping out the window just as I was standing up examining my hand for splinters.

  Come on girl, let’s get that dress and get back inside.

  Shazier, knowing nothing about washing clothes grabbed the bucket with the dress, and thought if he gave mama the full syrup can of berries we would be forgiven and all would end well.

  We never locked our doors in the 1950’s so Shazier and I thought it would be less deadly to go through the front door instead of killing ourselves trying to get back in through the window.

  When Shazier and I walked into the kitchen everyone had finished dinner, the dinner table had been cleared including our plates, food and all. My sisters shook their heads as to say; now you’re going to get it. But when they saw the big syrup can filled with berries their eyes lit up with joy.

  Well? Mama said to Shazier and I, where’s the dress?

  Shazier gave mama the bucket. See mama, Ronnie did wash the dress.

  Mama went to the sink in the kitchen and Shazier and I followed. She placed the wash bucket in the sink and proceeded to inspect the contents. When she held up the dress dripping wet with pure bleach on it, not only was my pure white beautiful dress yellow, but it was also shredded, shredded, as in strips. Mama noticed my shoes and socks at the bottom of the bleached filled bucket and pulled them up and out from their final resting place revealing my white socks had turned yellow as well and shredded and the glue that held my shoes together had separated sole from heel of each shoe.

  And to everyone amazement my pretty Easter outfit was not only ruined but was filled with polka dots, from mulberries, from Shazier shaking the tree to get the biggest tastiest mulberries we had ever put in our mouths.

  Mama slowly turned around, daddy fled the room, as did my three other sisters. They didn’t go far, for the four room house didn’t allow it. The living room trapped them in ear shot of mama’s wrath.

  How! Did! This! Happen! Ronnie? Do you realize these were your only church clothes you have, do you realize you now have to wait until Easter to get new clothes. How could you let this happen? Mama asked me while looking at my brother.

  My poor brother was so confused because mama was fussing at me but loo
king at my brother as if he had to wear the clothes. It was always better to remain silent, dead silent, as in how we were going to end up after mama kill us with the whipping switch.

  I’m sure the bleach in the bucket was causing my eyes to tear when mama grabbed me by the shoulder and marched us over to where Shazier was standing stiff as a board.

  Mama had her death grip on both of us. Shazier was forced to reveal what he held in his hand behind his back because of mama’s death grip around his neck. Mama was dragging us to our bedroom for the life depriving beating she is so well known for when she noticed the full large dirty syrup can filled with some of the biggest most beautiful mulberries Orlando, Florida had ever been known to produce.

  Mama snatched the can from Shazier hand left us standing there, poured the berries in a metal strainer and left the berries in the sink. Mama returned to where Shazier and I were standing, shaking and praying. We could not move because the queen had not yet dismissed us.

  After putting the berries in the sink mama returned to us and resumed her death grip in the same spot as before and continued taking us into the bedroom.

  The painful screams that came out from the bedroom could be heard no less than two streets over. Shazier and I piled on top of each other trying to deflect the blows of the strap mama used for our flogging, whipping, or beating, whatever you want to call the deadly precision of