It was 1913, and I was just eight years old. We lived in Savannah, Georgia, a town where everyone knew everyone. My Mamma always used to say Savannah was a big city with a small-town heart. It was everything a perfect southern town needed, lots of big fancy parties and big brick buildings and even a side of town that wasn't so nice. We lived right down the street from my nana- my moms mom- and every Sunday after church I was allowed to go to Nana's house and eat cakes or watch her talk to the other old ladies from church, and sometimes even make lemonade and sell it outside on the corner for a penny.
Today was one of those days, so I didn't start walking home until we had packed everything up and Nana had slipped a cookie in my pocket and a kiss on my cheek. I headed out of her house and down the street towards my own, sneaking a bite of the cookie on the way. When I got to my house my mother was in the kitchen cooking while my father was entertaining a guest in the sitting room. I went to the kitchen where my mom was stirring stew over a steaming pot, I remember it like it was yesterday, my mom was wearing a blue dress with small yellow flowers and yellow heels.
Her hair was up in a messy bun; small red ringlets fell about her face and sometimes stuck against her lipstick making her blow out in a huff and push them out of her way.
"Hey little love," she said swinging her hips and smiling widely as she turned around and ruffled my hair.
"I sold lemonade today with Nana." I said smiling back and flattening my hair. My mother turned around and began stirring her big pot again. "And did you bring any money for me? I gotta feed you somehow you know."
I sneaked a bite of my cookie out of my pocket and stuffed it in my mouth when I thought she wasn't looking, "No Mama, that money's mine you know! And besides I didn't make none 'cuz only Mr. Frank came."
She turned the stove off and took out three bowls from the cupboard, "And you didn't tell Frank to pay for his lemonade?" she asked, placing the bowls on the table then pulling out a drawer of silverware before placing them on the table too.
I stuffed the last of my cookie in my mouth when she turned around to grab the napkins and brushed the crumbs off my face, "Well, first he said he had to go home to get it, then he said it was a awful long walk home and he would get mighty thirsty on the way there so he gave me this." I pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of my pocket and unfolded it just as my father walked into the kitchen.
He took it from my hand and read allowed, "I.O.U. –Frank. What do you owe Frank?" he asked taking a long drag from the cigarette in his mouth and blowing it upwards.
"Nothing Papa! He OWES me!" I said laughing.
"You and everyone else hun." My father said before turning to my mother, "Is dinner almost ready? This guy's impatient. He could really be the key to getting us on top. He's loaded."
He jabbed his finger towards the living room. My mother looked nervously in that direction then nodded, "Almost done, and I hope so, just a little loan could get us where we need to be, but lets make this quick, I don't like the way he looks at me, like hes hungry or somethin'."
She glaned nervously out of the door like the man would hear her from the living room, then turned to me, "Little Love, why don't you go up to your room and get washed up for dinner?" she said and I headed out of the kitchen, but before I could make it she grabbed my arm and said with a smile, "and tell Nana no more cookies before dinner."
I smiled at her and headed towards the bathroom to make it look like I was going to wash up, but my curiosity of the stranger was peaked and I wanted to know who was coming for dinner so I slipped into the living room when his back was turned and hid under the coffee table. He was a young looking guy, but he was dressed very fancy, fancier than some of Papa's rich friends. He was wearing a suit and shiny dress shoes. His hair was a light blonde brown color and he paced the living room back and forth for a moment, putting his hands through his hair before my father came in and offered him a smoke, he shook his head and told his father he didn't smoke.
"So about this business offer…" my dad was saying, sitting on the couch and pulling an ashtray off the table. The stranger looked aggravated and antsy, he was eyeing my father in a peculiar way, like he had almost forgotten entirely why he was standing in this living room .
"I am willing to loan you the money you need to get your company back on its feet." The stranger said quickly. He was ringing his hands as he paced.
"What-are- are you serious?" my father stood up, his face full of joy and happiness, "This is amazing- Judy get in-"
Then the strange man grabbed him and looked him straight in the eyes and said, "Don't make a noise. Don't move, don't call your wife in here."
I expected my father to question him, he never liked people telling him what to do. But my father didn't, he just stood there, and the strangers eyes turned red and his veins popped out of his head as he descended on my father, he bit him in the neck and my father stood there and grew more and more pale by the second. I was too scared to move or scream or do anything but sit there in terror and shock as the strange man chewed into my fathers flesh so aggressively that my fathers head fell off his body and landed on the floor, his eyes still half open in excitement and shock. The man turned around and headed for the kitchen. Tears poured down my face, I didn't understand what was going on. I remember thinking, my father needed his head, how else would he think or smile or smoke? And how had that man done that?
I looked at my fathers lifeless eyes and whispered, "Daddy?" he didn't respond. I heard a thump in the kitchen and stayed even more still, too scared to move. I saw the man drag something from the kitchen and closed my eyes as he mulled about the living room, trying to keep my breathing low. I stayed like that until I heard the footsteps leave the living room, and I allowed myself to open my eyes. My fathers head was gone from the floor but a dark pool of blood still sat on the carpet next to me and my Sunday dress dragged through it as I left my hiding spot and stood up.
My mother and father sat next to eachother on the couch, covered in blood. "Mama?" I said shakily, walking towards them. She didn't answer.
"Papa?" I reached out and shook his shoulder gently. His head rolled off his shoulders and landed at my feet. I screamed as loud as I could.
The stranger came out from the kitchen and stood in foyer before the door to take one long look at me, his eyes were no longer red, but brown again. His face dripped with my parents blood and for a moment I saw a spark in his eyes, and thought he might do to me what he did to them. But instead he turned and left.
That was the day I vowed to find and kill the man who tore my family to shreds. No matter how long it took, I would have my revenge.
