The Red Suitcase - Part Three

Part One 

Part Two

Part Three

I came out of my daydreams long enough to realize it was almost three o'clock.  It was about time for Betsy to stop by with the mail.  I was the last house on her route, so I always invited her for a cold drink in the warm months, coffee or hot tea in the cold ones.  It was a mild and beautiful October day.  Not cold enough for coffee yet.  I prepared two glasses of ice tea with lemon, placed a few cookies on a plate, and carried it out to the porch. 

Our mailbox had not actually been used in years.  Betsy always pulled in the driveway and parked, then hand delivered the mail.  If I had letters or bills for her I simply handed them to her. Why we even had a mailbox was beyond me.  Even when Betsy was sick or on vacation, her replacements knew they could come have a nice snack and a refreshing drink.

Betsy was the closest thing to a friend I had.  Clayton had given up on church years ago, since it interfered with too many sporting events on the television or radio.  My going alone was out of the question since he might actually have to get his own beers for a few hours.  I hated weekends.  I longed for Monday when Clayton would head back to work and be out of my hair.

Betsy was excited when she arrived that day, greeting me with a warm hug.  "I heard Clayton on the radio.  You must be so excited!"  She handed me a pile of mail.

I laughed as I handed her a glass of tea and directed her to sit down.  "Yep, maybe I'll finally get out of this county!  Reckon all that baseball watchin' will finally pay off."

Betsy took a sip of tea and laughed sarcastically.  "Well, it's 'bout time that man paid off in some way.  Glad to see no bruises today.  Guess things are goin' all right?"

I nodded and looked down nervously.  She knew I did not like to talk about it much.

Betsy placed her hand on my arm and patted it comfortingly.  "Well, he'll be in a good mood for a while, especially if he wins this trip.  For your sake, I hope he does."  She leaned back and took a sip of tea.

"Yeah, me too.  Me too."  We sat quietly, enjoying the pleasant afternoon.  Betsy understood me.  She had seen the bruises over the years, as well as the occasional broken bone, but she didn't buy the accident excuses.  She understood how things were, what was expected.  I was 61 years old.  I had no means to support myself.  No high school education even.  Ples, trying to leave Clayton could prove fatal.  If he did what he did when I lived with him, what would he do when I left and cost him his inheritance?

I had managed to put up with Clayton for 44 years.  I prayed he would drink himself to death, that he'd have an accident at work and die.  I felt bad about it, but I knew that was my only hope.  I knew I would not, nor could not ever kill him myself.  I believed I was trapped in the marriage.

I flipped through the mail Betsy handed me earlier.  There it was.  I had expected it was about time for another one.  "Look at this Betsy.  Clairetta sent a postcard from Australia.  Isn't it beautiful?"

"Oh, yes.  I saw that when I was getting your mail together.  She sure is one lucky lady, that sister of yours."  Betsy smiled and took a bite of cookie.

I sighed.  I was excited for my sister - glad that she had learned a lesson from me and not made the same mistakes.  She was living a life of suitcase dreams, enjoying a passionate marriage to a beautiful man that treasured her – Paulo, who she met while she was a student in Milan.

I was happy for Clairetta, but oh so jealous at the same time.  I knew she meant no harm by sending those postcards.  In a way, I treasured them all.  I could have a suitcase dream vicariously through her.  At the same time though, the truth of my life stung with each one. 

I flipped the card over to read the message. "Tangie Doll – Australia is absolutely lovely.  I wish you were here.  I just love the way they talk, though they have a bit of a time understanding me sometimes.  Paulo sends his love.  Can't wait to see you again. I pray you are well.  Write soon.  Hugs and God bless, Clairetta"

Betsy placed her glass on the tray and stood up.  "Well, I see your grandkid's school bus comin'.  I better head on home.  Thanks for the tea and cookies."

I stood up also and walked with her to her car.  "You're welcome.  Hopefully when I see ya tomorrow I'll have good news about the contest!" 

Betsy gave me a hug.  "I'll be prayin' for ya, Tangie, as always!" she smiled, then walked to her car.  I sighed as she pulled away.  Betsy leaving was the signal of the end of my solace.  The grandkids would be home, then Clayton and the boys.  I hated evenings too.

I ran inside and upstairs to quickly stash the postcard away in my red suitcase.  If Clayton were to see it, I'd be in trouble for sure.  I reached into my closet and pulled out the red suitcase.  There were probably 500 postcards Clairetta had sent over the years – I received at least one a month, sometimes more.  I kept them hidden from Clayton, because these were mine.  This was the one thing he couldn't touch.  I quickly added the postcard from Australia and put the suitcase away.  It was just in time to hear the grandkids come running into the house.

"We're hungry Gramma!  Fix us somethin' to eat!"  Wesley yelled. 

"Wesley, you stupid brat!  Did you take my Walkman?" Mary Ellen yelled.

"No!" Wesley yelled back.

"You did too, you moron!  I see it in your backpack.  I'm gonna get you!"  With that I could hear the girl go chasing after Wesley, out into the yard.

"Yep, the kids are home," I thought.  The rest of the evening was remarkably not too bad.  Excitement about the contest in the morning and the possibilities of winning kept everyone in a good mood.  It wasn't even hard to get the kids to go to bed.  Everyone wanted the morning to come quickly.

I was exhausted, so even though Clayton and the boys were up practicing for tomorrow's contest, I went to bed.  It was not a surprise though, a few hours later, when Clayton awakened me.  "Turn over on your back, woman."

That was all he had to say.  I knew why he said it, and he knew I knew why.  I was thankful that it never took him long.  Soon he rolled off me and I turned to the side.  I learned long ago not to get up afterwards.  Just sleep it off.  Or at least give him a few hours of sleep before trying to leave the bed.

Clayton claimed I would disturb him – he had work in the morning and needed his rest so he could provide for us.  I needed to be respectful of him because he worked hard for the kids and me.  But I knew differently.  It was just another way for him to show his power over me.

It was our fourth year of marriage that I learned this lesson.  I was seven months pregnant.  The baby was on my bladder, and I just could not wait any longer.  Clayton had more than his usual amount of beer that night, and I prayed it had knocked him out.  I got up as quietly as I could, but it was not quiet enough.

“You got no respect woman?” I heard before I ever made it through the door.

I froze in place, my hand on the cold door knob.  “I’m sorry, the baby’s on my bladder, I can’t hold it any more.”

I heard the blankets swish off Clayton as he lunged to his feet and in two steps, crossed the room.  He grabbed my arm and turned me around.  “You sassing me woman?  I don’t have time for your attitude.  Don’t use that baby as an excuse.  You’re worthless, got no respect for me and what I do for this family!”  With a swift movement of his arm, he flung me to the floor.

I cried out in pain as my side thudded against the hard wood.  I curled to protect my baby, but it was too late.  I felt a deep pain as Clayton’s foot impacted my abdomen.  “Get back in bed!” Clayton insisted as he grabbed my arm and pulled me onto the bed.

“Clayton, the baby,” I cried.  I prayed the warm gush was just urine, but knew the pain accompanying it was not normal.  My perceived insolence only incensed Clayton more.

“If you’re so worried about that baby you’d do what you should.  I gotta work in the mornin’ and you know I’m a light sleeper.  Now, you stay in that bed and let me sleep.”

In the darkness of the night, Clayton could not see the large wet stain on the sheets and my gown.  I remained still as he climbed back in bed.  I reached down to feel the wetness, and in the meek light of the moon, I could see blood on my fingertips.  “Clayton, the baby,” I stammered.

Clayton flashed on the nightstand light and turned to me with a look of pure rage on his face.  His eyes widened as he realized the situation.  Without a word came to my side of the bed, picked me up and carried me downstairs and out to the car.  The speeding car only made me more nervous.  I screamed as a pair of headlights were suddenly in front of us.  The violent swerve brought the car to a halt on the side of the road.  Clayton cursed as he pulled the car back onto the road.  In the parking lot of the hospital, he said without looking at me, “You fell down the stairs.  You tell them nothing other than you fell down the stairs.”

Marla Jane was placed in my arms as the sun rose that morning.  She never took a first breath.  She was a beauty though, and she's always been my little angel, watchin' me from heaven.  The damage I sustained was so bad, little Marla Jane was the last child I would ever carry in my womb.  I have carried her forever in my heart.  The doctors believed my story of falling down the stairs – the weight of the baby making me more clumsy than usual.  I never forgot the lesson from that night. 

The next morning as I prepared breakfast I imagined what I would do in Atlanta.  I prayed Clayton would win.  I was so glad that there were six tickets.  Anything less and I would be the first one cut.  Six tickets were perfect – one for each family member.  I could care less about the ball games – World Series or not.  I was going somewhere outside of Braun Hills Georgia, and that was a dream long needing fulfillment.  When breakfast was ready, I called everyone in.

"Smells good, Momma," Wayne said as he entered, sat down and began fixing his plate.

"Mmm bacon!  I love bacon Gramma.  You should make it more often!"  Mary Ellen exclaimed with a mouth full as she took her seat.

Eli, Clayton, and Wesley joined the table, and everyone talked excitedly as they ate breakfast.  This was a rare site, and I was really enjoying it.  I listened more than talked, but it still felt good to be a part of a happy family conversation, and to actually feel a little bit appreciated.

"Gramma, did you know they have a store there that is just for left handed people?" Wesley asked.

I smiled at my grandson.  Today he was sweet and endearing, polite even.  "Really, that sounds like a place we should go then, since you and your sister are left handed."

"Well, I just cain't believe we are gonna see three World Series games!  And of course the Braves are gonna take the Series!"  Clayton exclaimed.

"That's right Daddy!" Wayne and Eli chimed in.

Clayton looked at the clock on the wall.  "We better get goin’ if we're gonna get there on time."  With that everyone got up and after a few minutes of running around, we were off.

The station had set up a stage in their front lawn for the face off between the six finalists.  There were lots of people there, since this was the most excitement the county had seen in years.  Supporters for each contestant were throughout the crowd – some with signs declaring their support.  Clayton had a lot of friends.  It would be an interesting match.

The DJ welcomed everyone and the contest began by taking the six finalists to a room to answer a 50-question test on the Braves.  While the contestants were off taking the test, the DJ played music and there were vendors present for the crowd to walk around and look at.  Once the test was complete, the DJ called everyone back to the stage area to announce the two finalists. 

The crowd hushed as the DJ began.  "And the final two are . . . Clayton Burkefield and Bob Stanley!"

The whole family cheered, along with many in the crowd.  Wayne and Eli hugged each other, and I hugged the grandkids to me.  I was so excited.

The DJ instructed the crowd to calm.  "Now, there will be ten questions and 1 tiebreaker.  First to ring in gets to answer.  If you answer correctly, you score a point.  If you answer incorrectly, the opponent may answer for a point."

With that, the contest began.  It was apparent that both Clayton and Bob knew their Braves trivia, because whoever buzzed in first had the correct answer.  It became a game of who could buzz in the fastest.  The questions seemed to fly by.

The DJ slowed down at question nine.  "Okay folks, that makes it a tie at four and four.  Here is question nine.  In 1871 the Braves got their start as one of the 9 charter members of the National Association of Baseball Players, which lasted for 5 seasons.  What was the original name of the team?"

Clayton buzzed in first.  "That would be the Boston Red Stockings!"

"That's correct, Clayton!"  the DJ exclaimed.  "That moves our score to five to four with Clayton in the lead.  Clayton, if you get this next question right, you'll win.  Bob, if you answer this next question right, we will go to the tiebreaker question.  Are you both ready?"

I was so nervous.  The kids were holding my hands tight, and Eli and Wayne looked anxious as well.  Clayton and Bob nodded their heads, both poising over their buzzer, ready to be the first to answer. 

The DJ flipped to the next card.  "Which Braves player became the first rookie in major league history to hit three home runs in a game?"

Bob hit the buzzer first. "Eddie Matthews. On September 27th, 1952!"  There were cheers from Bob's supporters in the crowd, and groans from Clayton's.

"That's correct Bob!" The DJ exclaimed.  Clayton was visibly upset.  It would come down to one question now.  I prayed Clayton would buzz in first and know the answer.

"Wow, this is a really tight contest today folks.  Let's give it up for these two Braves fans – they've both done a great job haven't they?"  Cheers went up through the crowds and both Clayton and Bob egged it on.

The DJ quieted the crowd and then began again.  "Okay, looks like we have to go to a tiebreaker.  This last question will be the deciding factor.  Whoever answers this question correctly will win the trip to go see games 3, 4 and 5 of the World Series in Atlanta Georgia – the Braves verses the Minnesota Twins.  Now, for the tiebreaker: who is known as the father of professional baseball?"

Clayton slammed his hand down on the buzzer, "Harry Wright!"

There was silence for a moment until the DJ finally responded.  "That is correct!"  Cheers went up from the crowd and Wayne and Eli jumped up on the stage to hug their Daddy.  I hugged my grandchildren.  I knew that I would finally get my suitcase dreams.  I felt happier than I had ever in all my life.

Please comment below, then go to Part Four.  Your feedback is appreciated.