The Red Suitcase - Part Five

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

I was done being the good southern wife.  I would put on a show until tomorrow morning when Clayton and the kids left for the airport.  But somehow, during those five days, I was getting away.  I knew it would have to be very far away, because to divorce Clayton would cost him his inheritance - the inheritance from the parents that treated him like the black sheep of the family, still, forty-four years later.

For so long I had put up with my life, thinking I had no choice.  It was what I was supposed to do.  I couldn't make any changes.  I had made vows to Clayton before God.  That was important for me.  But until that day, it never really clicked that Clayton had broken every vow he had made to me and God.  No love.  No honor. He did not even forsake all others.  He didn't even try to hide the affairs.

The adultery alone was enough reason to divorce Clayton, not to mention all the other broken vows and abuse.  Why had it taken me so long to see this?  God only knows.  I was just thankful I lived to the day I realized it all.  But how was I going to get away?  Getting far enough away took money.

I knew I couldn't lay in bed all day thinking about all this now.  It was nearing suppertime, and I needed to make things seem as normal as possible.  The schedule was for them to leave the house in the morning by 7:15.  I had a little over 15 hours until they would be gone.  The thought that at least eight of those hours would involve sleep made me smile. 

I made dinner and came to the den where Clayton, the boys, and the grandkids were watching TV.  My plan was to act like a defeated dog.  I looked down and in a timid voice said, "Supper's ready."  I then turned quickly and retreated to the kitchen. 

I was nervous.  That part I did not have to act.  But there was a brave voice yelling in my brain.  "Enjoy this Clayton - the last supper you'll ever eat from me!  I'd like to be a fly on the wall after you all get back here  -- to see any one of ya try to cook a meal!"  I had to be careful to keep my eyes down, because some of my thoughts made me crack a smile. 

It was very important to keep Clayton thinking he had beaten me down.  And I did not need to make him angry again.  I was determined to make the bruises from earlier, my last.  I made it through supper fine, and I prayed the evening would be uneventful. 

When Clayton came to bed that night, set the alarm, and turned off the light, I was holding my breath.  I was as still as I could be, and slowly, I began taking very shallow breaths, anticipating the words to come at any second - turn on your back woman.

When I finally heard the soft snore come from Clayton, I could not hold back the tears anymore.  They were quiet, thankful tears, cried into that pillow that had taken in so many tears.  I had to be calm to keep Clayton asleep.  "Thank ya, God."  I knew I was going to find a way out of this situation.  I let my mind drift off into suitcase dreams.

The morning came with an alarm that was far from wretched.  Oh, no, in fact, I could have kissed that alarm that morning.  Yet again though, I had to hide my happiness while Clayton was still in the house.  I got up, put on my old, worn slippers, grabbed my robe and put it on, as I quickly walked to the bathroom. 

I had to follow the usual morning routine - make everything seem normal.  Go to the bathroom, wash my hands, brush my teeth, brush my long gray hair and put it in a bun.  Then dab on a little blush and lipstick and back to the bedroom to put on a housedress. After that it was off to the kitchen to make breakfast for my family - for one last time. 

They were going to eat breakfast in the car on the way to the airport to save time.  Thank God!  I made six sausage, egg, and cheese sandwiches, filled four travel mugs with coffee, and two with chocolate milk.  I heard Arnie pull in the driveway and beep the horn.  I was getting excited, knowing that was a signal that the time for everyone to leave was nearing. 

"Breakfast is ready to go and sittin' on the table," I yelled.  I then climbed the stairs to the bedroom to wait out the rest of the time.  I knew none of them would care to say goodbye, or even notice that I was not down there.  They were too excited about their trip. 

I sat on the bed and stared at the clock.  The minutes ticked by so slowly.  I could feel the gathering thunder in me as I waited for the time to pass.  Soon though, the noise in the house settled, and all was quiet.  I heard Arnie's car pull out of the driveway.  I started to smile, and the thunder inside released in peals of glorious laughter.

"Yes!  Yes!" I got up and ran through the house, laughing and screaming to the top of my lungs.  "I am finally free!"  If anyone had seen me that morning, they would have surely thought I had lost my mind.  I did not care.  I ran back upstairs and grabbed the drawer from my nightstand, and as I ran through the house, I threw those postcards all around, laughing the whole time. 

When I ran out of postcards, I began opening Clayton's drawers, and tossing about the contents throughout the house.  I found a special sense of joy when it came to tossing Clayton's boxers.  I know it was silly, but I did.  It was like I was tossing around his manhood.  A pair landed on a lampshade, another on the coat rack.   Particularly humorous to me was the pair that landed on the buck's head over the TV in the den. 

Suddenly, it clicked.  The buck head.  That's it.  I fell back into Clayton's recliner  -- sitting there for the first time ever -- and laughed.  I never imagined I would figure it out this way.  Well, at least I hoped this would be the solution.  I would have to check things out first to see if it was actually a possibility.

You see, the one thing Clayton loved in life more than baseball and other women, was hunting.  That was the only thing I could ever hope to get him out of the house for during his vacation from work, or on the weekends.  Since we had been given the house and property we lived in by Clayton's parents, we never had a mortgage to pay.  So, what Clayton had done over the years, was to put money into an account as if we had a mortgage. 

It was his "hunting lodge account."  I guess you can kind of think of it as his version of suitcase dreams.  He and the boys talked about it frequently.  He was under the thumb of his Daddy though, who clung onto life with a voracity that thoroughly infuriated Clayton.  If Clayton wanted his share of the inheritance, more rules were added.  He had to work for the company - still as a meager construction worker - until he turned sixty-five. 

Clayton was sixty-two.  He didn't start saving toward the hunting lodge until we had been married for 5 years.  So, for thirty-nine years, Clayton has been putting away a reasonable mortgage-like amount each month.  I was not sure how much was in this account, but I did know that when he and the boys talked about it, they talked about buying lots of acreage, building a nice log cabin, and having all kinds of "toys." 

Now, how much of that was pure dreams and how much was realistic based on savings, I was not sure.  How much of that would come from the one day Clayton has been looking forward to for years - his Daddy's death and his subsequent inheritance - I was not sure either.  I laughed as I thought of the look on Clayton's face when he realized I was gone, and more importantly, so was his inheritance.

There would only be one way to find out if this was my solution.  I grabbed my purse and the car keys and headed to the local Farmers & Merchants Bank.  I walked into the small bank and signed in to speak with one of the bankers. 

I nervously waited to be called, wondering if this would work, fearing it would not.  The fear came that I would not find a way out before Friday.  What if I would not be able to get far enough away to escape the wrath of Clayton?  What if there was not enough money for me to support myself?  How was I going to survive?

"Mrs. Burkefield?" Karen Sifford called from her office, into the lobby area.  I was relieved it was Karen that had called me, not some other banker.  Karen was a sweet girl.  She had dated Eli in high school, and being quite a wise girl, dumped him.  But she was always very nice to me.  I got up and walked into her office. 

She closed the door behind me.  "How can I help you today, Mrs. Burkefield?"

"Well, I know Clayton has a savings type account here that he puts money into every month, and I was wonderin' if you could look it up for me and go over the balance and whatnot."  I hoped I didn't sound too nervous.

"Well, I'd be glad to.  Let me just log into his account.  Do you have that account number, by chance?" Karen asked.

I had hoped she would not ask that question.  "No, but it should be the only other account, other than the checkin' account."

Karen typed and searched for what seemed like forever, then said, "Here it is, the investment account.  So you wanted to know the balance, right?"

I took a deep breath and then exhaled.  "Yes, that's what I'd like to know first."

"Well, as of yesterday's close of the stock market, the value of the account was $586,096.74.  What else can I tell ya?"

I placed my hand on my heart and dropped my jaw.  I had never expected it to be that high.  I knew Clayton was a penny pincher, but he must have really been serious about putting money in that account to get it that high.  "How'd it get so high?"

"Well, let me take a look at the investment mix."  Karen clicked a few keys and was quiet for a moment.  "Well, I can say first off, he has some very high yield, high risk funds, so that is part of the reason for the high amount.  It would seem Mr. Burkefield is quite the gambler when it comes to investing.  He's much riskier than I would ever be!  But hey, it's paid off so far.  Could be gone tomorrow, but today, it has paid off.  Let me check his history of investments."

I laughed internally at how correct Karen was.  If I had anything to do with it, Clayton would be experiencing a major downswing in his account tomorrow.  "Actually, you can skip that.  I'm sure your records are accurate.  I guess Clayton just made bigger deposits each month than I thought.  I just need to know if I can make a withdrawal, and if so, what is the most I can take out in one day?"

Karen looked up from her computer and smiled.  "Well, as you know, Clayton's Daddy required him to include your name on all accounts and titles.  So, this account is just as much yours as his.  It's not a retirement account.  Therefore, you can make a withdrawal at any time, in any amount.  I can cut a check for you, or give you cash."

I had to think for a few moments.  With a check, there was a chance that Clayton would put a stop payment on it, or try to reverse the funds.  But cash would be a lot of cash.  Now, I had no intentions of taking all the money, mind you, but the 50% I felt I was due was still a lot of cash.  "What is half that balance, rounded to the nearest hundred?"

Karen flicked the keys on the calculator and then gave a response.  "$293,000.00."

I took another deep breath.  "Okay then.  Could you give me that in $1000 bills?" 

Karen turned her head to the side and smiled, "I wish I could, Mrs. Burkefield, but they quit makin' $1000 bills in 1969.  There are a few out there in circulation.  We may even have a few, which I'll gladly check on for you, but most of them are in the hands of collectors now.  Are you sure you want all that money in cash?  The highest we can give is $100 bills, and that's a lot of cash to have around."

I looked at her pleadingly.  "I know, but I need the cash.  Can you do it?"

"Well, you are on the account.  There is a form that the federal government requires anyone fill out for withdrawals over $10,000.  I'll have to check with the branch manager to make sure and see exactly how much cash we have available, and if that amount is feasible.  He'll need to see two forms of identification.  Do you want me to check with him?"

I smiled at Karen and nodded my head.  "If you don't mind, I'd appreciate it." 

"Alrighty then!" Karen exclaimed as she pulled open her desk drawer, flipped through some files, and pulled out the federal form for me to complete.  "Just start filling this out while I talk to Bill.  Leave the amounts blank for now, and don't sign it yet."  She then got up and left the office.

As with all federal forms, it was long and complicated, but I finished it before Karen returned.  I was excited and nervous at the same time.  Too nervous to think of suitcase dreams, but too excited to get up and run.  Finally, Bill and Karen came in with a duffle bag.

Bill sat the duffle bag on the desk and reached out his hand to shake mine.  "Mrs. Burkefield, it's a pleasure to see you!  How are ya, darlin'?" 

I smiled as I shook his hand.  "Well, I'm doin' just fine.  Fixin' to do some travelin'.  Been wantin' to for years."  

Bill patted the duffle bag.  "$293,000 is a lot of travelin' money.  But we were able to get it all for you today, M'am.  Now, I just need to see your two forms of I.D. and have you finish that form.  Then we'll have Bobby, the security guard, walk you to your car." 

I was so relieved to hear those words.  I gladly did what ever was needed.  Karen actually had to take all the money out of the duffle bag to count it back in - in bundles of $100's, to verify that the right amount was there.  I had never seen so much money in all my days. 

I was glad for Bobby's accompaniment to the car.  Though I wondered if that made it more of a scene.  Nobody seemed to pay much attention though.  I was thankful for that. 

When I got home, I came inside and locked all the doors.  I went to the den and sat in Clayton's recliner.  It was quite comfortable, and I understood why he liked it so much.  I had to figure out where I was going to go first.  There was no time to get a passport, so I was limited to the US.  But where to go? 

I grabbed the yellow pages from under the telephone on the end table and flipped to the section for travel.  I scanned through the listings of businesses.  Dream Travel seemed appropriate for me.  I dialed the number.  A female voice answered, "Dream Travel, Tammy Safrit.  May I help you?"

"Yes, hello Tammy.  My name is Tangie Burkefield, and I need help plannin' a trip.  Can I do it over the phone, or should I come down there?"  I asked.

"Well, Mrs. Burkefield, there is a lot I can tell you over the phone, but I can show you so much more in person.  Where are you wanting to travel?"

I laughed.  "As far away from my husband as I can get, but I have to leave no later than Friday."

Tammy laughed.  "Well, Mrs. Burkefield, if far away is your main point, but quickly, then we would narrow it to Hawaii or Alaska.  Otherwise you'd need a passport.  Alaska's headin' into winter, and while it is more popular to tour during the 6 months of light, it is beautiful all year long.  You'll be just in time for the northern lights, you can go see the whales, go skiing, and lots of other activities."

"I've always wanted to go to Alaska.  Never really thought about it in winter though.  I've have heard the northern lights are gorgeous.  What about Hawaii?" I asked.

"Well, Hawaii is technically in their winter now too.  It runs from mid-October through April. During this period, rains are more frequent, longer and more intense. Daytime temperatures are in the mid-70s to low 80s, but it actually can be a good time to visit.  After the periods of rain, there are the most beautiful rainbows.  And it is still warm enough most of the time to enjoy all the things people love about Hawaii, without all of the crowds of tourists."

It was quiet for a moment while I thought.  Alaska sounded beautiful, but I just couldn't see myself enjoying it in winter all by myself, while I could see myself relaxing on a beach in Hawaii.  But the northern lights had always been something I wanted to see. 

I looked down and on the floor, below the edge of the recliner, was one of Pauline's postcards.  I reached down and picked it up to examine it more closely.  It was a stunning view of a pool and beach at the Halekulani Resort in Waikiki Hawaii.  I remembered Pauline calling about that place, and I knew this was the answer. 

"How about the Halekulani Hotel in Waikiki? My sister Pauline sent me a postcard from there and it looks perfect.  It's right on the beach with a big swimmin' pool and hot tub.  She said they had a spa with a masseuse and all that too."

"Yes, the Halekulani Hotel is one of my favorites too.  I always recommend it.  I go there myself every year," Tammy explained.  "What do you want to do while you are there?"

"Oh Tammy.  I may be 60 years old, but I've had suitcase dreams for far too long, and I am ready to live an adventure in travel. I want to see and do all the things I ever imagined or heard about, wherever I go.  I have a lot of living to do, and it is just starting now."

"Well, I think I can handle that."

"Wonderful.  Now, I can afford to spend a good bit to get to out of here quick-like, and I trust you to fix me up somethin' nice that I'd like.  Tammy, if I said you had $10,000 to plan me a two week, one person, one way trip to Hawaii, with airfare, hotel stay and whatnot, how fast you think you could get me outa town?"

Tammy laughed.  "Well Mrs. Burkefield, are your bags packed?"

"As a matter of fact," I laughed, "they are."

"Well then, give me a few hours, and I will call you with the details.  I'll make sure you get the best for your money and get to discover all you ever dreamed about Hawaii."

"Oh, Tammy that sounds just perfect!"  I was so excited.  Hawaii was a place Pauline frequently visited, and the postcards were always amazing.  The reality of everything was coming upon me, and I could not wait for the time to pass until Tammy called back. 

I went to the kitchen to have a quick lunch.  Time had flown by running out to the bank, and soon, Betsy would be by to drop off the mail.  Boy, would she be surprised to see me here still.  As I ate my chicken salad sandwich, I carefully thought through the rest of the day.

First, I wanted to write to Pauline.  On the back of the very postcard she had sent to me, I wrote, "Pauline, I'm finally leaving today.  I'm going here first, since you loved it so.  I'll call when I get there.  Love, Tangie."  I would give the postcard to Betsy directly, but inside an envelope.  I would not risk her having go through knowing where I was, and having to deal with Clayton too.  It was better she did not know.

Last I had heard, Pauline and Paulo were heading home to Milan from Australia this weekend.  Pauline clung to Paulo's family, who were very close, and very wealthy as well.  They took her in as one of the family, and Pauline rarely felt the need to come back to the states.  She did come once a year to see me for my birthday.  She always made her visits to the house while Clayton was away at work.  Though the visits were short, they were treasured.

I debated about writing a letter to Clayton.  I could tell him why I was leaving.  But then I decided against it.  He would know exactly why I left.  My silence would speak volumes more than any words I could ever say.  I had spent forty-four years in a marriage where my words did not matter, so this just seemed apropos.  Let the wreckage of his life speak for itself.  I needed no words.

After my lunch, I went to my closet and grabbed one of the gift bags that Betsy had given a gift to me in at one time.  She always chose such nice gift bags.  I went downstairs to the duffel bag and pulled out ten packs of $100 bills.  I placed them in the bag and then taped it securely shut. 

I then went over to the desk, placed Pauline's postcard in an envelope and addressed it to her home in Milan.  I put no return address on it. 

I reached into the drawer where I kept my stash of cards and picked out a thank you card.  I opened it up and wrote inside, "Betsy, Thank you for years of friendship, and suitcase dreams.  I'm off to have some of my own.  You deserve some too.  I'll never forget you.  Love, Tangie."

I placed the card in the envelope and taped it to the bag.  I went and prepared our lemonade and cookies, and carried everything to the porch to await Betsy's arrival.  It was a beautiful fall day, and I enjoyed the cool breeze.

Betsy was surprised all right.  She pulled in the driveway and got out of the car.  "What happened?  Why are you still here?"

I laughed.  "Arnie."

She handed me the mail.  "Grrr.  I should have figured that.  Well, at least you get a week of peace and quiet."

"Nope.  I'm getting' out!" I exclaimed.  "I've decided it's best for you to not know all the details, but I did want to see you one last time, before I leave.  I want to thank you for your friendship over the years.  I wanted to give you this, as a thank you.  But promise not to open it until you are home."  I handed her the bag.

She took it with a look of shock on her face.  "I promise.  Oh, Tangie, I don't know what to say.  I know you're doin' the right thing.  Clayton treats you down right horrible, not like a husband should at all.  You go chase your dreams, and know I'll be here prayin' for ya, as always!"

I heard the phone ring.  "Thank you Betsy.  I love you.  I'll miss you.  But, I need to go answer that.  It's about gettin' out of here.  Give me a hug though."

We stood and hugged.  I gave her the envelope for Pauline and told her to forget she had ever seen it.  She left and I ran inside to call Tammy back

I was excited to hear that Tammy had gotten a flight for me out of Charlotte at 8:20 PM.  I decided I would leave right away, stopping on the way to the airport at Dream Travel to pay Tammy and get my ticket.  I would spend any early time enjoying what an airport was like.  After so many years of suitcase dreams, I figured it deserved my attention.

I went to the car and put my red suitcase and duffle bag in the back.  I got in the driver's seat, put the key in the ignition, but when I turned the key, nothing happened.  I was so frustrated.  Clayton, the penny pincher, didn't want to replace that old run down car, though it was long past reliable.   I grabbed everything again and headed back to the house to call a taxi.  I would not let this ruin my day.

I sat on the porch with the duffle bag in my lap, waiting for my ride.  When the yellow cab pulled into the driveway, a sense of relief filled my soul.  The driver got out and came up to the porch.  "You call a cab to take you to the airport, M'am?" 

I smiled at him, loving to hear those words - take you to the airport.  I stood with the duffle bag clutched carefully in my hands.  "Yes sir.  I'm goin' to Hawaii." 

"Oh, lucky you!  Is that your suitcase?" he asked.

I turned and looked at the red suitcase on the porch.  What volumes it spoke to me as I looked at it sitting there.  Forty-four years of volumes.  It brought tears to my eyes.  "No.  That stays here." 

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Note from the author:  This is the real Halekulani Hotel - isn't it gorgeous!  I don't know about you, but I'm a bit jealous of Tangie!  This place just looks like paradise on earth.  Who couldn't use a little bit of paradise?  I'm sure Tangie had a blast!

I used this hotel simply because their website attracted me as the perfect place for Tangie's first suitcase dream (or I guess it was suitcase-less, after all).  What really won me over were the postcards you can send from the site.  I made one from Pauline to Tangie.  It is gorgeous and was the deciding factor in using this hotel. 

I did not receive anything from Halekulani Hotel to include them in the story.  But hey - if anyone from the hotel stops by and has the power to fulfill a suitcase dream for me . . . Yeah, I know, I'm dreamin'!  I still have suitcase dreams!  Lots of them.  I hope I'll be younger than 60 before I start exploring them!