"Trust is not a gasoline-soaked blanket that succumbs to the matches of betrayal, never able to be used for its warmth again; it's a tapestry that wears thin in places, but can be patched over if you have the right materials, circumstances, and patience to repair it. If you don't, you're always the one who feels the coldest when winter comes."
― A.J. Darkholme, Rise of the Morningstar
"You got to sleep with Daddy?"
"Mama, too." Andre informed with a bright smile.
"Wow!"
Abigail and Billie Jo were wide eyed. This was an idea never considered by any of the children.
"Oooh."
"No way!" Carlton was the only one to exclaim in practical disbelief.
"We were looking all over for you, Andre. We thought for sure you were snatched." Jasmine shook her head at the thought and what it would have done to their Mama if it would have been true.
"Danger Stranger." Glady's and Knight chanted.
"What does he smell like?" Billie Jo asked.
"Soap and toothpaste. Same like, Mama." Andre bounced as he shrugged his shoulders.
"Ain't this some shit, Uncle Charlie? Kids want to know what he smells like. No damn sense. Soap and Toothpaste. Yes Indeed. Mm-Mm-Mm."
Granny sat back shocked by the smile that the old man wore on his face. The kids continued to talk to each other about the most fantastic event that Andre was more than willing to share.
"I told you that too," Carlton shot at Billie Jo. His Daddy had carried him out of the hospital he had the soap smell then.
"What did he talk about?" Jasmine wanted to know.
"How much he loves, Mama."
Every child at the table eye's were wide like saucers while they waited patiently for their, Mama and Daddy to join the breakfast table. Andre had their full attention.
"He said he met Mama at the grocery store and she fainted."
"Heaven please have a grown-up Jesus." Granny shook her head and tapped her bible.
"You had us all worried about where you could be young boy child." Uncle Charlie voice sobered the mood. The children knew when their Uncle's voice spoke they must all listen.
"Sorry, Uncle Charlie."
"What were you doing in the middle of the night hunting down your Mama, young boy child?"
Uncle Charlie questioned as he folded back the comics from a 1984 newspaper in preparation for his oldest boy child to read while they waited for two people to come from out of the back of the house and have a seat at the table. It hadn't ceased to amaze Uncle Charlie what caused the children's excitement to flit quickly from the buttermilk biscuits hot from the oven to where Andre laid his head that night.
"I had a bad dream."
"What have I always told you about bad dreams, Andre?" Granny lightly squeezed the young boys hand.
"Say the Lord Prayer." Andre answered.
"Amen. Don't ever let the Devil know you afraid. He will try to use it against you. The Lord's prayer makes him run away from your mind. Now tell us what that darn devil got you dreaming about so we can put an end to it."
Granny would normally be the person burdened with the children's thoughts and dreams through out the day and night when Michonne wasn't present or the flower dress was zipping about trying to figure out how to send a smoke signal to a long gone Daddy.
"I had a dream that my Daddy wanted to leave from here and we couldn't stop him from going."
This had Carlton the most choked up. He had to have answers to ease his mind, he was the only one to venture to ask the question immediately, "What did our Daddy say when you told him?"
"He said he ain't going nowhere and that our Mama can't chase him away. He said he's the Daddy to every child at this table." Andre repeated with the same forcefulness as his Daddy had spoken.
"For true?" Uncle Charlie smirked.
"Yes indeed. That had to be news to your Mama if she was in that room. Whooo lord, Child. Peace be still I say. Peace be still." Granny commanded to the atmosphere.
"What did your Mama say to that, young boy child?"
Uncle Charlie's face wore the look of suspense because of what this information could provide. The old man also realized that this indicated that the Craigslist fella had to have been two people in that bedroom which would have meant the response to how many children would show who was responding, oldest Girl Child or the one in the flower dress.
"She didn't say anything."
"We still dealing with Flower Child. Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm."
Uncle Charlie didn't make any comment. Nothing he could think of would bring any value to a confusing situation. To him no response was a good sign. A sign of acceptance.
"He's my Daddy, your Daddy, your Daddy..." Marty said eight times while questions were hurled to Andre about what it was like to be in the bedroom with their Daddy.
Uncle Charlie shook his head and placed his attention back on Andre who was looking very refreshed with his growing bush of curly hair that was more coarse than the other children at the table, but the ringlets were the same as the rest of them.
Jasmine Amber Jean questioned from across the table. "What did Mama say about you coming into her room like that in the night?"
"You got to sleep with my Daddy, My turn next." Marty made his call known to everyone to where he was going to lay his head when night fall came.
Andre frowned at his little brother as he decided to answer his sister. In that very moment a loud voice from outside distracted everyone at the kitchen table.
"Ho. Ho. Ho. Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas Children! I got something special for you. Especially for you Abigail. Come on outside and see what I have." The male voice shouted.
The shout was loud enough to be heard from where they all sat. All of the children were on high alert and ready to bolt, but were immediately told to stay at the table by their Uncle Charlie.
Uncle Charlie had barely pushed his chair from the table when he halted upon seeing the children's real Daddy step into the kitchen with a wary look.
"Who in the hell is that?" Rick stood waiting for an answer from anyone that was seated at the breakfast table.
He had noticed something was different about his very own gait and stance. This had never happened to him before where he wasn't sure if he was him or if he was him. His vision was blurred for less than a second, he had to tilt his head from side to side to gain his equilibrium.
"Can we go see, Daddy?" Abigail and Billie Jo inquired for them all.
"If any of you get up from this table when a stranger calls on you and without my expressed permission or from your Mama there is going to be two people very very disappointed. Now behave and stop the sounds you are making. I provide what you need and the things you want. No one else. No one else."
The last two sentence echoed of Sinclaire and Rick in agreement.
"Y'all better listen to your Daddy. Sit your asses right in them those chairs, ya hear?" Granny grinned, pleased with authority.
Uncle Charlie and Granny shared a look while the children slowly gave up sulking and moaning their discontent when their Daddy told them to stop.
"Where's the shotgun, Granny?" Uncle Charlie wanted to make sure it was out of reach.
"Put away like you told me, Uncle Charlie." Granny eyed the old man at the other end of the table as if his memory was something to worry about.
"Good. Got two trigger happy people in the house now you know."
"You make three." Granny tallied for the old man.
"For true." Uncle Charlie agreed.
"Can we go see, Daddy?" Abigail pleaded. "Mr. Bob says he was going to bring back a doll for me. A pretty one. He says I am the prettiest one he's ever seen."
Rick was startled by any of his children having favor because of their looks. Who was looking for beauty in a little girl to make her known as the prettiest? If he gave thought to it he could see why possibly but he thought Jasmine looked more like her Mama. His features he didn't find suitable for a girl and Abigail and Billi Joe had more variation of him in their facial structure while Jasmine only carried his nose and Gladys was the lightest after Jasmine and could be considered more him too or was he looking at Knight?
Sinclaire spoke he was impatient with Rick. "Prettiest? All of you girls are pretty. You have your Mama to thank for that. You don't need anyone to tell you something that you should already know."
Uncle Charlie's blood pressure was elevated. It was true that Abigail was a beautiful girl with her hair the way it was and her skin lighter than honey but to repeat what a drunkard told her to a man that has no qualms with shooting a man dead was a dangerous thing to do. Usually, all it would take was for Suzanne to tell him that the man outside had hurt her at some point before the Red Neck Hollar and that PTSD individual shouting Merry Christmas could mark that morning as his last day living and breathing.
"No such thing as prettiest when judging daughters of a man, like your Daddy standing there. Take note girl child." Uncle Charlie's tone was gruff causing Abigail to regret she spoke.
"Tell that girl child again. Tell her one more time. Mouth open like a fish. Scary thing when devils speak the truth."
Granny patted her bible on her lap as she rocked because she caught the spirit that was standing in the kitchen with that devilish blue-eyed twinkle.
"Who is Mr. Bob to this family?"
"No one, now that you here," Granny responded back and informed with a little more detail, "Mr. Bob lives nearest the gas station on the other side of the road. He says he has PTSD from the war."
"War?" Rick rested his hand on his hip, placing more weight on one leg than the other.
"The oil war. You know that PTSD means Partial to Satan's Demons." Granny spoke directly to Uncle Charlie to make him aware of that thing that war people were coming back with to influence others to stay on the devil frequency.
"Partial to Satan's demons?" Sinclaire studied the old woman who seemed to recognize him by the way she held his gaze.
"I've never been partial. Not like you and that woman in the flower dress." Granny added quick, "Michonne too."
"My oldest Girl Child Granny!" Uncle Charlie had a short fuse when it came to Granny taking digs at Michonne in the religious way. He still was hoping to get his hands on that Ezekiel from when the church was named God's Kingdom. He had a bullet carved out for him. Yes, indeed.
"Billie Jo! Gladys! Marty! Knight!" Mr. Bob called from outside.
"Why is he here? Why is he around my children to know their names?" Rick tried to take a reasonable approach and if he wasn't any closer to finding the answers that way, Sinclaire was ready err on the violent approach.
"Call it what it is and shame the Devil, I say."
"Should be no shame in things they can't help, Granny." Uncle Charlie snapped back.
"I am going out there to tell him July is for fireworks if he doesn't take heed I need y'all to go on an eat without me because I will be out back digging a grave."
All eyes were on him as he exited and all eyes were on Coveralls making a rare appearance.
Sinclaire stepped outside while Onne entered the kitchen.
Onne dressed in coveralls turned the empty chair backward and sat across from Gladys and Knight who both gasped and took off from the table headed to their room. She had her left hand haphazardly bandaged but used it to grab a biscuit. The rest of the children looked to Uncle Charlie who nodded giving everyone at the table permission to eat.
Granny didn't say a word she quietly got up from the table to retrieve the twins to bring them back to the kitchen once the worst of the demons seated, took leave.
"What happened to your hand?" Uncle Charlie rested his elbows on the table while he watched the children and Onne make more of a mess of things.
Onne shrugged.
"You don't know what happened to your hand?"
"I've got something stuck on my finger. Don't want to frighten anyone."
"Well, what's your plan today?"
"Going to Daryl's to work. I got a car that has been to hell, and I'm trying to bring it back to life."
"It's been a long time since you been around. What be your reason now?"
"Heard some terrible news about Daryl is all."
"That's it?"
"He's going to need my help with repairs if he got the beat down that I heard about it. I see all these kids are still here." Onne took notice just then.
"Where did you think they would be?"
Onne shrugged. She was eating as if she hadn't eaten in years, Uncle Charlie watched her gulp down a glass of milk and wipe the mustache with the back of her hand.
The kids knew to keep quiet around the mechanic. Uncle Charlie had told them to always stay quiet and take note. Onne was a presence that one could go a lifetime and never want to see again and be okay. Onne was more detrimental than essential. Suzanne could speed things up 10 paces, and Onne could set a good thing back 20.
"He's here." Uncle Charlie forewarned.
"Shit has to stop, Uncle Charlie. He got her knocked up again. Ain't right."
"How long you've known?"
"From the first night here and what they were doing in the field didn't help any."
"In the field last night?" It was the only time Uncle Charlie knew about a field with the kids Daddy going to bring Suzanne back in the house. Last night would mark a quick pregnancy if he was understanding what Onne was trying to relay to him.
"Nah, old man. In the field where she tried to run his ass over with that fancy ass car. It was that one hump, game over. Score! Touch Down. Boom, Boom, Boom. Shit's crazy. Broad is crazy."
Uncle Charlie couldn't decipher what was being told to him about a field and the children's Daddy being potentially ran over by the car outside. What he did know and what was clear to him was that his Girl Child was pregnant again.
"What you plan to do?" Uncle Charlie glanced at each child and could see they had no understanding of what was being discussed. If Granny were there, it wouldn't be a discussion at the table no how. It would be a full blown exorcism with everyone getting wet with the flailing of holy water and oil.
"Why are you asking me? I'm not, nor will I ever carry a child. Men can't carry babies."
"What do you think, the flower girl would want?"
"She would keep popping them out but she ain't the one who's expecting."
"Flower girl isn't, then who is?" Uncle Charlie questioned cautiously watching Onne stuff two more strips of bacon in her mouth.
"Crazy ass, Michonne."
A/N: I made a slight correction to Chapter Thirty Six. A sentence was dancing with another. Yikes.
I wanted to also say thank you to the guest that wrote about the healing power of love. It is very true. It is fascinating how we all find ways to cope with trauma and it is different for everyone. Thank you!
If anyone else is incognito or Signed in I appreciate you all for taking the time to read and enjoy a stretched out tale. Thank you for reading and reviewing or just reading. I am off to update Peace through Chaos and then tinker around with Tumblr for a couple of hours. I am going to figure that blogging out so help me GOD!