Chapter Eleven
Jess and Merle found a two bedroom shotgun house on a tree lined street with similar rundown but neat little homes. The yards were decent size, and Jess observed several little boys about Merle's age running about. He paid the owner a year's rent in advance, and promised he would make sure the yard was kept up. When Shirley and baby Daryl were released from the hospital, the house was ready for them to move in. Jess and Edith had furnished the home with cast offs from friends and neighbors and stocked the pantry and refrigerator with non perishables and items for the baby. They'd also scavenged up cloth diapers and baby clothes for Daryl.
Shirley was silent as she gazed around the tiny living room with wide eyes. It was if she'd finally woken up from a very long nightmare. A warm house, lights, running water, and food and neighbors again. She almost pinched herself. As she looked around she began to cry softly. Merle watched her anxiously. Shirley saw his look and smiled. "Oh Merle, mama's crying because I'm so happy," she said softly and gathered him into her arms to hug him. "I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you," she said haltingly to Jess and Edith.
"Just take care of the boys and that'll be enough," Edith replied, smiling and cooing at Daryl in his bassinet. "He really is such a sweet baby. After all he's been through, such a rough start in life! But there he is just smiling and looking around. He's the sweetest baby I've seen in a long while!" she exclaimed, running a finger softly over Daryl's little cheek.
Merle scowled a bit at this. He already had an idea that he wouldn't be the most important person anymore-he had to share his mother's attention with his baby brother. It made him feel both resentful and remorseful. It wasn't his brother's fault, he hadn't asked to be born. And it was his duty to take care of baby Daryl, but he didn't have to like sharing his mama with him. For the rest of his life Merle was tormented and torn between feeling proud and protective of his brother as well as resentful and angry with him for stealing the attention away from himself. It didn't help matters that Merle was a dead ringer for his father, and now that Will was on everyone's shit list Merle was looked at askance.
Daryl however bore a strong resemblance to Shirley. He had her pale blue eyes, sandy blonde hair which as he got older would turn white in the summer sun-towheaded he was called. And he was a baby and small child that smiled often and gurgled happily at everyone. Wherever Shirley took the boys, Merle heard repeatedly how beautiful a baby Daryl was, so sweet. Women would ask to hold him and pepper his little cheeks with kisses while exclaiming they could just take him home and keep him forever he was so sweet.
Merle learned quickly to hide his scowl and jealousy and pretend to agree with everyone that his brother was sweet indeed. When he looked in the mirror he couldn't help but compare himself with Daryl-his thick curly black locks and piercingly blue eyes just like his father, wiry build just like his father and he often heard the whispers from visitors or folks they met out and about that they certainly hoped he didn't have Will Dixon's famous temper or lack of ambition. Those days he would push his brother roughly away and run off to play with the other boys in the neighborhood. Those boys didn't care what his father was like or worry that he would turn out just like him.