The Dead of Winter - 1984

It was the dead of winter in Dawsonville, Georgia when young Jack Bronson found out that his mother had left.  He had just come home off his seventh grade school bus when he spied his Nana’s blue Buick in the driveway.   His father’s red Ford pick-up truck was also home which was strange because his dad always worked late on Fridays.   He walked through the door of the house which had a living room with overstuffed torn leather couches that were covered in his mother’s crocheted throws. 

“Where’s mom?” he asked innocently enough as he put down his books and rummaged through the ice box for last night’s fried chicken.  He was tall for his age, but rather skinny.  He could easily put away a whole tray of chicken or an entire large pizza without thinking about it.  “We need to talk,” said Nana with a concerned tone in her voice.  Even at 14, Jack knew that no good conversation ever started out with those four words.   He looked at his father and grandmother who were somber and sitting at their dinette which was really a card table with four folding chairs.  “Your mother has left,” said Tom Bronson abruptly as he ran his hand through his unkempt stock of dirty blond hair.  Nana shot her son a dirty look and tried to cushion the blow.  “Jack, it seems she needed to take some time and figure things out,” said Nana gently.   “Jesus Christ mother, don’t sugar coat it for the boy - she’s gone.  She left me and her son plain and simple.”  Jack’s father walked past Jack and got another Miller from the ice box. 

“Wait, what do you mean she’s gone?”  Jack sat down at the table looking into Nana’s tired brown eyes hoping to get more answers.  “She’s been screwing Teddy Jenson for months and ran away with him – goddamn whore!”  fumed his father.  “Watch your language son – the boy needs –“  Nana started.  “The boy needs to know that his mother was a lying slut – making a fool of me –of us – shit- we’re the laughing stock of the town.”  Tom was getting drunker, angrier and his blue eyes were more glazed and bloodshot.   Nana stood up and looked at her son.  “I know you are upset, but you have your son to think about and you are in no condition to discuss this with him.   How about I take him for the weekend?  You get your bearings and we’ll discuss things tomorrow.”   Nana walked to Jack’s room to get his overnight bag.   Father and son sat there awkwardly regarding each other. 

“But Mom said she’d take me to see Ghostbuster’s this weekend,” Jack said,

his eyes filling with tears.   Jack’s mother Angela shared his fascination with ghosts, the paranormal, and everything that he considered cool.  His father was distant and dismissive – he was a few years older than Angela who he had married out of high school and their age difference took its toll on their marriage as did the Tom’s drinking and his abusive outbursts.   Jack’s mother was the one buffer that kept his father from constantly taking a belt to him because he felt his son’s mind was full of crazy dreams that would never come true.   “Boy, listen to me straight – that woman is more than likely out of our lives forever and the sooner you get used to it the better –“ Tom guzzled down another beer and threw it into the garbage can on top of the five he had already finished off. 

Nana returned to the kitchen with Jack’s small overnight bag and his stuffed 101 Dalmation puppy which his mother had given him when he was two – he still slept with it every night.  “Oh, hell no – he’s not walking out of this house with that stuffed dog so he can sleep with it like some goddamn faggot – you’ve got to stop coddling him Mother!”  He grabbed the dog and walked to the outside garbage bin and threw the stuffed puppy in there.   Young Jack was reeling – he whispered “Pup-Pup!” and looked at Nana who gave him a reassuring nod.   “We’re going now.  If you need to tie one on tonight – I understand but you better be sober when we return on Sunday afternoon,” Tom looked away and didn’t even say good-bye to his son.  

Nana and young Jack walked slowly out to the car but as they passed the trash bin, Nana picked up Pup-Pup and put him discreetly in her purse.  The drive to her house was silent.  She didn’t want to push Jack to say much of anything but still wanted him to tell her how he felt.  Young Jack on the other hand felt this was a huge mistake.  His father had driven her away – his beautiful mother would never betray the family.  He was her little man – the person she would pour her heart out to.  He knew his parents were having issues but not enough to just abandon him completely.  Yes, he knew his father was an asshole.   But she was smart, funny, pretty and she told her son every day how much she loved him.  This was just one big cluster fuck – he was sure of it.  If he could just talk to her – he could make things right or maybe she’d take him with her – mothers always got custody and then he’d never have to see his father again. 

Nana pulled into the driveway of her one story ranch.  They walked into her small kitchen which smelled of coffee and biscuits instead of stale beer.  Nana put Jack’s bag in the guest room where he would spend the night from time to time.  He sat on the bed and stared blankly at the wall which had a poster of Bill Murray as Dr. Peter Venkman in Ghostbusters.  Nana had gotten it for him

for Christmas but his father insisted the poster stay at her house.  Jack wanted to be a real life Ghost Buster but his father dismissed it as a load of crap.  His mother never ruled it out and they would check out books on ghosts from the library since they could not afford to buy them.  He reached for Pup-Pup and realized that his stuffed animal like his childhood was gone.  He fell back on the bed and started to cry.  His father was not around and he didn’t have to be brave for his mother when his dad would strike out.  He was at Nana’s – a safe zone and she would let him cry even if he was a boy and boys should never cry.   He closed his eyes and felt the warm salty water fall down his cheeks.  He grasped the pillow and buried his head in it.   Nana asked him if he needed anything and he mumbled “No!”   His quiet sobs exhausted him and he ended up napping for two hours.  When he woke up – Pup-Pup was sitting next to him – newly washed and smelling like fabric softener.   Jack grabbed the little dog and hugged him – it didn’t matter that his father would call him a faggot for doing so – it was a gift from his mother and one of the last things he now had of her. 

Nana was standing at the door and watching.  “Nana, how did you-?” he asked still holding Pup-Pup. “I got him out of the garbage and washed him which he badly needed– you can keep him here where he’ll be safe,” she said as she sat on the bed next to Jack.   “I’m so sorry about today-your mother leaving and your father – he means well but he’s just so hard headed and hurt from the war–“ Nana found herself in the difficult position of once again making excuses for her son to her grandson.  “Do you want to see a movie tonight?” she asked trying to quickly change the subject. “Ghostbusters, The Karate Kid and Indiana Jones are playing at the cheap movie theater down the street – they have hot dogs and buckets of buttered popcorn for 50 cents – my treat.” Jack smiled and hugged his grandmother – no matter how bad things got – Nana had his back. 

Angela Bronson sat next to Ted Jenson as they drove out of Georgia and into

Alabama.  The excitement of finally being with her lover was tempered with leaving her son with her abusive husband.  She brushed her long blond hair from her face and looked out the window as they traveled on  I-20 on the way to Birmingham – nothing but road and trees and her own thoughts as Ted fumbled with the radio.  Ray Parker Jr.’s Ghostbusters theme came on the radio – Ted began to chuckle – Angela started to cry.  She and Jack were supposed to see the movie that night for the 10^th time at the cheap movie theater but she saw her chance to escape and took it.  “Please change the dial,” she said choking back tears.   Ted fumbled again and Stevie Wonder’s I Just Called to Say I Love You blared from the stereo.   Ted started to sing the lyrics badly trying to cheer her up. 

Angela smiled – not because Ted’s singing was actually making her feel better but it gave her an idea.  She asked if they could stop at the next rest stop so that she could call her son and tell him that she loved him and they would sort all this out.  She knew her husband wouldn’t let her talk to him but maybe if she could get to her mother-in-law she might have a chance – she had an answering machine.  If she couldn’t talk to Jack directly, she could at least leave him a message with her and pray that he got it. 

The cold night air bit harshly as Angela and Ted got out of the car.   He offered to get her a coffee as she fumbled for change to call her son who was probably confused and angry.  She didn’t want her son to think that was his fault.   She had a plan – she was going to get him in a few months after they had settled in Birmingham and they could start a whole new life together.  Ted would make a great step-dad and she was still young enough to have more children.  But right now, she needed to talk to her boy, her little Jack – the one person on the planet who completely understood her. 

She dialed her mother-in-law’s number slowly wondering if he was there and if Claire would let her talk to him. They had never really gotten along and now that she had left her son chances were she would not be all that willing to pass a message on.  But mother to mother, she had to understand how much Jack needed to hear from her right now.   The phone rang four times before the answering machine picked up.  Angela knew her mother-in-law liked to screen her calls so she made her plea as simply as possible.  “Jack, this is Mom.  I’m so sorry about today.  I know how confused you must be – you might even hate me which I would understand.   But I love you so much.   I tried to stay.  I really did but I couldn’t but that does not mean I don’t love you.  I’m trying to make a new life and when it’s secure, I’ll come and get you because you are my little man.  I love you more than anything.  Always remember that – Jack.  I love you and we’ll be back together soon.”  Angela hung up the phone feeling that as much as she told Jack that she loved him – it would never be enough.   Ted handed her a Styrofoam cup of black coffee and a Snickers.   Angela smiled because he remembered her favorite candy bar - something her husband would never had done. 

Nana and young Jack returned from the movies – a double feature of Ghostbusters and The Karate Kid - full of popcorn and corn dogs.  “Let’s get you to bed Honey,” said Nana who was actually more tired than her grandson.   Jack smiled, kissed his grandmother and went into the guest room.  He sat on the bed and the silence in the room only highlighted that his mother was not around.  He picked up Pup-Pup and hugged him hoping to pick up the scent of his mother but instead got nothing more than a whiff of Tide and Downy.   Jack got in his pajamas, curled up with his stuffed animal and prayed things would get better.

Angela fell asleep in the loving arms of her soon to be husband Ted.   It had been ages since she’d been able to sleep through the night – her current husband always kept her on edge because she was never sure if he would suddenly turn on her.  Her slumber was riddled with guilt about leaving her son behind.  She wished she had been able to go to school to pick him up but she feared a call to her husband would tip him off and scrap the entire plan.  It had not always been that way – Tom was once a loving man when they first met when she was a senior in high school stopping by Walgreens where she worked to pick up a pack of Marlboros.  He was five years older and out of college - handsome and muscular - but he had a sensitive side.   He’d write her poems and leave them on the counter in an envelope.  They got married when she graduated and their life was practically perfect until he was called to serve in Vietnam when Jack was two.  Angela begged him to move the family to Canada to avoid the draft but he insisted that it was his duty as an American and he would fight with honor like his father did in World War II.  

But Vietnam was not an honorable war – it was where young men sacrificed their youth, idealism and mental health. When they came back to the states, they were treated like criminals.  To this day, Angela didn’t understand what the war was about – but sadly it had killed the man she knew and left an angry bitter person whose temper could inflict verbal or physical pain without warning.   She often begged him to go to the VA hospital and get some help but his pride got in the way as it had always had.  

Jack stirred out of his sleep the next morning to hear the faint sound of his mother telling him that she loved him.   “It was all just a dream – I knew it!” he thought happily and jumped out of bed.  He ran to her voice to find Nana’s disapproving face playing the message back and not realizing it had awoken Jack.  “Where’s Mom?” Jack asked still not realizing it was a message and not the real thing.  

Nana tried to brace herself.  Her fury at Angela for betraying her son was almost overwhelming but she knew Tom had problems ever since he had come home from Vietnam just as her husband had from Germany.  The difference was that WWII veterans were treated as heroes, liberators.  Vietnam vets were considered damaged goods by the general public and worse criminals and baby killers by the war protesters.  Her husband had more support in the 1940’s but her son had nothing – people were afraid to hire Vietnam vets around these parts because of all the bad press. He had to resort to odd jobs – this from a man who could have had brilliant career as an attorney, a writer – anything he put his mind to.  But the war had damaged his soul – left it with a black stain on his psyche that made it seem like any dream was impossible.

“Nana, that was Mom, can I hear the whole message?  Please!” pleaded Jack.  For a nano second – Nana considered erasing the message – erasing this irresponsible woman from their life.  But she didn’t – the only good thing that woman had done was bring Jack into the world and she would honor Jack even if she wanted to throttle Angela.  Nana said nothing and replayed the message.   Jack listened and his tears spoke volumes.   His mother’s words “I love you more than anything.  Always remember that – Jack.  I love you and we’ll be back together soon,” meant that there was still a chance to be together.  Natively he thought Nana would come with him.  “Let’s get some breakfast,” said Nana quietly lost in her own thoughts and wondering if she should play the tape for Tom. 

Angela awoke to find Ted making coffee in their little hotel room – their bags packed and ready to continue on.  He handed her a cup and in the light of day her decision seemed so right and so wrong at the same time.  Jack was not there and a part of her heart was missing.   “We have to go back and get Jack,” she announced out loud with a volume that surprised both of them.  “Tom is going to fight us tooth and nail on that one hon-“ replied Ted knowing Tom Bronson as he did. The guy played for keeps and he was not about to let both his wife and son just walk out the door without a fight - that crazy asshole might just resort to making his point with a gun.  Angela would not be deterred.  “Maybe if I could meet with Claire – Jack’s Nana beforehand and explain – maybe we might have a chance,” she said hopefully.   “The roads in on are pretty icy. Why don’t we wait a few days? The weather report says both I-20 and 285 are bad.”   “I just can’t rest until I can talk to Jack directly – I’m afraid that Tom will turn him against me, please Ted – we need to go back.”  Ted knew there was no sense in arguing.  He had all-weather tires on his truck and knew how to drive in the ice but still it felt like it was a really bad idea.  Angela picked up the phone and called Nana and asked her bring Jack and meet her and Ted at the Silver Spoon around 6:00 p.m.  

Nana got off the phone with Angela and walked into the living room where Jack was watching his Saturday morning Creature Features on channel 51.  “Jack, for dinner, why don’t we go to the Silver Spoon – my treat.”  Jack smiled – the movies last night and going out to dinner tonight – things were looking up.  “What about Dad?” he asked cautiously.  “Your father can fend for himself tonight,” said Nana hoping that her son would not show up by chance.   She did not want to tell Jack his mother would be there just in case Angela lost her nerve and didn’t show up.

Ted and Angela finished their breakfast at the Waffle House and headed back to Dawsonville even though there were ice warnings.   The roads were bleak and sleek but Angela would not be deterred – she had to see her son and plead with Nana to turn him over.   The mood in the car was tense, not because Ted didn’t want Angela to see Jack again but because the road conditions were getting steadily worse.   There seemed to be a thick haze on the road as sleet fell softly.   Ted kept his speed under the limit but a big semi that had been tail gating for the last few miles decided to pass them only to jack knife in front of their car.  Ted hit the brakes and put out his arm to catch Angela just as they made impact.   The sound of screeching tires, breaking glass and crunching metal was the last thing that Angela heard before she lost consciousness. 

Angela woke up with a start – she was in her mother-in-law’s guest room cuddling next to her son who was crying into his Pup-Pup.  “Jack – it’s Mom – I’m here- it’s okay.”  Jack didn’t acknowledge her.  “Jack- it’s okay, Mommy is here.  I love you Jack – please say something!”   Nana appeared in the doorway – in a dress of all things.   She walked over to Jack and hugged him.    She handed him a suit and helped him get into it.  They didn’t talk – not a word.  Jack just looked at the Ghost Buster poster as his grandmother put his suit jacket on and clipped on a dark stripped tie.  “Hey, Jack – I know you’re mad at me – but please – say something, baby – I love you – please!”  

Angela went over to Claire.  “You turned him against me?!   What the hell Claire – I know you didn’t like me but to make him ignore me – Jesus Christ woman – look at me!”  Angela shouted.   Jack and Nana just walked by and didn’t say a word.

A bright light hit Angela’s eyes and she was standing at a graveside where she saw Jack, his Nana Claire and Tom standing with some friends and neighbors.  Tom was swaying – which some took for mourning but Angela knew it was because he was drunk.   She ran over to Jack – her 14 year old little man who looked so much older and sad.  She held him close and for a second she felt like she had gotten through but she realized his Nana was holding him up.   The minister finished his prayer and threw some dirt into the grave as Claire tossed in a red rose.  Jack threw in his mother’s favorite flower – a yellow and pink peace rose.   Tom just looked at the grave and threw in more dirt.   Angela tried to talk to her husband.  “Tom, I know you’re angry but don’t take it out on Jack.  I did love you once but our world changed and you lost hope.  I tried to make it work but –“  “Tom, are you coming?” asked Claire as she got into her Blue Buick with Jack in the back- tears streaming down his face.  “Hey boy, don’t you cry for your mama, SHE left us- she LEFT us- she left US!“ Tom slurred as he got in the car.  Angela tried to flag them down but they kept driving.  Tom threw out a piece of paper as they went by. 

Angela opened what looked like a program and realized the memorial service was for her.  “What – no- that’s impossible?!  I’m walking around – I’m alive!” Her mind reeled when she saw Ted – limping on crutches with a black eye.  “Oh my God, Ted what happened to you? Where are we?”   Ted looked and the grave, let go of his crutches and fell to his knees.  “I should have told you no – I should have made you wait until the roads were better – but I could never say no to you and now you’re gone – I loved you Angie and I always will.”   Angela closed her eyes and silently screamed.

When she opened them – she was back in her home as her husband, her mother-in-law and son returned from her funeral.   Tom went to the refrigerator and got a beer and offered Jack one.  “Here you go, boy- you might as well start now –“ Nana walked in and immediately snatched the beer out of Jack’s hands.  “C’mon Mother, the boy needs a little liquid courage – “ Tom chuckled and stumbled out into the living room.  “Goddam crochet – where’s my hunting knife? I’m going to cut these fucking blankets to shreds!”   “No Dad, it’s all I have left of her,” pleaded Jack. 

Nana walked up to her son and looked at him face to face.   “Hear me now Tom, you have a right to be upset, angry, betrayed – all that.  But I swear to God as my witness if you do not get yourself together for Jack’s sake – I will sue for total custody – do you read me?”  Tom knew from the look on his mother’s face that she meant business.   Angela felt a little sigh of relief.  She’d had a hard time getting along with her mother-in-law in life but she never doubted how much she loved Jack – it was the one thing they had in common.   Jack stood in the doorway of the kitchen trying to hold back tears because his father hated the weakness that crying showed.   “Jack, you’re going to stay with me for a while  - we need to give your father some time to adjust, we’ll get your things later.”   Tom sat motionless on the couch – staring straight ahead.  Jack hoped he’d put up a little bit of a fight showing that he wasn’t going to let go of his son that easily but he sat there glassy eyed and silent.   Jack gathered up a few of the crocheted blankets that were folded neatly in the corner.  He and Nana walked out the front door and let the screen door slam as they left. 

Angela looked at her husband and tried to remember what she had first seen in him.  It was the poet, the kindness, the way he protected her.  She wanted Jack to have those same qualities.   Tom got up and found his hunting knife – he started to pick up the multi-colored blanket on the couch – the one she

made when they were first married and started to cut it.  Angela’s anger started to rise.  She ran over to stop him and knocked over their wedding photo which was on the TV.   Tom looked up – “Damn right – “ he walked over and smashed the frame with his foot.   Angela anger turned to pure rage – she knocked over a trophy Tom had won for sharp shooting. “What the fuck?!”  Buoyed by her new abilities and feeling the need for payback, she started to knock more things over – knick nacks, books on the shelves, hunting magazines.  “Hey, Mother - Jack – knock this shit off – it’s not funny!”  Tom declared hoping his mother and son would show themselves as sick pranksters they were but there was nothing – it was clear he was all alone. 

Tom stumbled back into the kitchen.  He got a glass and heard the sound of running water.  He looked to see the knob on the faucet turning by itself.   He dropped his glass and then saw the upper cabinet open.  The plates started to fly out.  Angela was striking back in a way she never could have when she was alive.   Tom dove under the table and felt like he was under attack.  The porcelain was shattering around him and he was shaking under the table.  His wife could feel his terror and felt vindicated because he now knew what it was like to fear someone who could turn on you in an instant.  Then she heard something that surprised her.  A soul wrenching sob was coming from under the dinette from a man who shunned tears.   He was rocking back and forth – looking like an old man and a young child at the same time.   Angela sat next to him.  His eyes were wild and any second he could literally loose his mind.  Payback was one thing but permanent dementia was another.   She put her hand in his and he started to calm down.   “I miss my Angie girl –“  Tom had not called her that since before he left for Vietnam.   “I miss what we could have had- I miss the man I was – I’m so sorry babe –so I’m sorry!”  He closed his eyes and sobbed.

Angela put her arm around her husband out of instinct.  His rocking stopped – he opened his eyes and he looked around.  “Angie?”  he asked hopefully – praying this whole ordeal had been a drunken stupor and not reality.   But the fact that his wife was truly gone was setting in.  He got up from under the table and surveyed the broken dishes.  “How the hell?” he said still trying to comprehend it.   He started to get another beer but the refrigerator would not open – Angela was keeping it closed.   Tom started to feel sick and ran into the bathroom past the sink and the mirror.  As he was throwing up in the toilet- the hot water to the shower came on.   Tom reached for a towel and tried to turn the water off but it would not budge.  He went over to the sink and tried to wash his face as the steam of the shower filled the room.  He looked up at the mirror and saw the impossible – letters forming as if someone was writing on the mirror.   “T – Get Help! – A”.  Tom looked around to see if someone was in the room with him but he was alone.  He looked at the mirror again and another message appeared – “I’m watching – A”   Tom screamed and ran out of the bathroom.   He got to the bedroom and locked the door.   He tried to call his mother but she and Jack had not arrived.   He felt like he was losing his mind – worse than when he was in Vietnam.   Angela took pity on him and watched as he got into bed – shaking.   She lifted the covers and put them over his shivering body.  Tom smiled, “I know you’re here – I’m sorry!”  He closed his eyes and fell asleep.   Angie sat down next to her husband wishing that he had let her see him like this – the scared warrior child.   Tom dreamt of his wife, his young son and how things should have been.   At the end of the dream – Angie came to him and spoke directly.  “Tom, you need to be a father to Jack – not a drunk – not a raging manic but the man you were supposed to be.  Please find it in yourself to love him.  Do that – or what happened in the kitchen is nothing compared to what I’m willing to do to protect our son.”  

Tom woke up with a start.   It was dark outside and he was alone.  He’d always be alone if he didn’t change.  He called his mother and asked to speak to Jack.  “Hey son, I’m sorry about today – it’s just that – I’m just sorry.” Jack listened and didn’t say anything – he wasn’t even sure it was his dad talking.  “Uh, okay dad,” he said trying to wrap his head around this change in his father.  “I’d like to come over and have dinner with you and Nana if that’s okay.” 

“Sure – come over – Nana is making sausage and potatoes – but she calls it Bangers and Mash,” Jack said excitedly.  “That sounds like your grandmother,” he chuckled.  Tom put down the phone and changed his clothes.   He went into Angie’s side of the closet and found a photo album – photos of the two of them when they started dating, their make-shift wedding and honeymoon in Savannah.  There were the photos of Jack as an infant and toddler and many of Jack and Angela from when Tom was fighting but after he got back – the pictures stopped.   Those moments were too tense and barely documented. 

Tom arrived at his mother’s 30 minutes later.  Nana and Jack seemed a bit tentative at first.  But as they waited for dinner to be ready, Tom showed Jack the pictures in the album – and talked about the time he met Angela, when he found out she was pregnant with him, some of his old poems that she had kept.  Nana looked at her son and saw the man she used to know before the war did terrible things to him.  Jack saw a man who actually wanted to be his father.   That night, they told stories about Angela who was in the corner listening – crying but feeling at peace.  Her son was safe with people who loved him.   Then something truly miraculous  happened.  On the worst night of his young life - the night of his mother’s funeral – while he and his father were talking about all the crazy things his parents did when they were young – Jack and Tom Bronson had a good laugh together.

Haunted Kindergarten - 1969

I remember how much my black Hushpuppy penny loafers were killing me on my first day of Kindergarten.  I just wanted to wear my jeans and a t-shirt with my old sneakers, but my mother insisted that I wear a dress with ruffles with those new shoes. I was scared because this was the first time I would be around other little kids who were not my cousins.  I also had developed the ability to see dead people during the summer.  I spilled the beans about the family secrets at my mother’s family reunion which went over like gang busters (there is nothing like a six year old telling the family where they had screwed up via the Patriarch Granddaddy who had passed 20 years earlier).  Couple that with the fact that my father had left my mother during the same summer and you had a perfect storm for my first day of school.  

My mother had tried to limit my exposure to outsiders in the last few weeks of summer because she was afraid that I might see another ghost and spill more family secrets.  Besides my mother, I got to spend time with our maid Etta who I adored and the feeling was mutual.  Her children were grown so having a little girl who idolized her probably felt pretty good.  She was not freaked out about the fact that I could see ghosts.  She was originally from New Orleans where tales of ghosts and voodoo were quite common.   On the days when mother was losing patience with me, Etta would say “Miss Laura, I’ll keep an eye on Sophia while you lie down.”  Mother would smile gratefully and go to her room for the rest of the night while Etta and I made cookies and talked before I went to bed.  I looked forward to those times with her because it felt like this is how a mother should be.  I loved her with all my heart.   She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, her dark skin, eyes and hair seemed to exude an exotic beauty I would never have.  

“Child,” she said while brushing my long blond hair one night before bed, “You have the gift - there is no mistake about that, but you have to be careful.  There are people around here that don’t take to others being different.  When you are with the other folks out there, you have to fit in.  You can talk to me about ghosts all you want, but don’t be troubling your mother, father or other people because they won’t understand it and folks just hate what they don’t understand,” she said with the sad resignation of a black woman who had lived in the south all her life.  Even if it was 1969 and TV was becoming integrated, the real South was not going quietly into that good night and I just couldn't understand that.  “Yes, ma’am, but how come being different is so bad?” I asked with such childlike innocence it almost made Etta cry.  “People like what they know, child and they want to destroy what they fear.  Now let’s say our prayers.”   Etta had taught me prayers to keep the bad spirits away and the good ones nearby. When we finished praying I would hug her with all my might.  She would tuck me in, kiss my forehead and waved as she closed the door.  

“That woman is a God send, and I should know,” said Granddaddy- the ghost of my great grandfather.  He would visit me every night carrying the ghost of my baby cat Sassy who had been hit by a car six months before.  “She’s right about folks thinking you are different.  Hell it’s been over a 100 years and you got folks still fighting the Civil War - you think they are going to embrace civil rights?   You need to be careful Sophia.  When you start school, try to fit in and if you see ghosts, try to ignore them.”  “Yes ‘em, Granddaddy - I will,” I said with all the steely determination a pre-Kindergarten child could muster.  

That summer, I asked my mother if I could have a TV in my room and she relented because it meant that I would stay upstairs and out of her way when she had company. Etta and I would watch Bill Cosby in I Spy and Diane Carroll in Julia.  I would see the world through this TV lens of integrated possibilities and it seemed so much more interesting and exciting then the people I saw day to day except for my Etta.  She was the one person in the world who loved me for me and not for the person that my mother wanted me to be.  

So here we were on the first day of school -  my mother and I standing at the gates of Blue Lakes Elementary.  My mother wanted a private school but my father bulked at the price and thought that a newly desegregated public school would do me good.  “Now Sophia, play nice with the other children and don’t do anything strange, I’m begging you – please don’t,” mother said in an uncharacteristically pleading tone. “I know, Etta and Granddaddy told me not to,” I replied. My mother winced when I said Granddaddy since she knew he was one of the ghosts I talked to. 

“Hello, I’m Chrissie Bentley, I’ll be your child’s Kindergarten teacher.   Now who do we have here? “ said Miss Bentley who had just graduated with a Master’s in Early Childhood education from Georgia State.  She was young, pretty and wore a flowery blouse with a short skirt and boots - professional and mod at the same time.  “This is Sophia, and she’s a little shy, so -“ mother replied.  “Well, everyone is shy on the first day, but there are lots of children to play with,” said Miss Bentley.  

“Look those girls might want to be your friend,” mother replied hopefully.  One of the little girls from a group near the playground ran up and introduced herself. “Hey, my name is Betty - want to play?”  I squeezed my mother’s hand tighter not wanting her to leave but she made a point of letting go anyway.  “Now go on Sophia - this is a new start for you- take it.”   Mother said hopefully, and left quickly scarcely looking back. 

Betty took my hand and smiled.  She brought me over to a group of girls playing with dolls.  They had blond hair, frilly dresses and new shoes like mine.  They told me I was pretty and handed me a doll to play with.  I saw two other girls who were black sitting in the corner talking but they didn’t have dolls.  They had big brown eyes with long eyelashes and braids with brightly colored hair ties with large florescent beads on the end. They looked sad so I did what any right thinking six year old would have done, I asked the other girls if they could join us.  “No Sophia, those Negro girls can’t - we don’t have enough dolls,” said Betty with an irritating air of authority.  “They can have my doll,” I said trying to easily solve the problem.  “That ain’t it,” said Sherry - one of the other white girls, “we just don’t want to play with them.”   “Why not?” I asked still not comprehending their narrow way of thinking.  “Because, they are Negros - “ Betty said and shot an exasperated look at me that showed that I lacked the ability to grasp the obvious. I sat quietly and I tried to stay with those white girls.  I tried to blend in.  But I felt sick to my stomach.  It just felt wrong.   

I knew those other girls felt excluded and I knew how that felt.  I saw the ghost of a young black man in uniform sitting next to them, trying to get their attention to let them know he was there.  He looked over at me and we made eye contact.  I looked away, not because I was scared, but because I was not supposed to talk to ghosts.  I had promised mother, Granddaddy and more importantly, I had promised Etta.  I understood now why they were so sad.  This man was their father who was killed in Vietnam.   I just sat there with my eyes closed hoping he would go away, but when I opened them he was next to me speaking to me softly, trying to comfort me.   “Hey there little miss,” he said with a kind voice, “I know you can see me - don’t be scared.  I won’t hurt you.”  “I know you won’t,” I said back.  “I won’t what?” asked Betty thinking I was talking to her.  Thinking fast, I said, “I won’t bother you, I’m going to get another toy,” I walked over to side of the playground where the box ball equipment was.  The young soldier followed me.  

“I’m not supposed to talk to ghosts,” I whispered hoping no one could hear me.  “I know - I tell my daughters to never talk to strangers, but those two are my baby twin girls and I wanted them to have a good first day of school.  It breaks my heart that I can’t be with them in person, but if you could tell them I’m here and I love them, it would mean the world to me,” he said quietly.   “I can try.  I’m sorry you died in Vierrname,” I said.   He tried to smile briefly at my inability to say the right name. “My name is Lieutenant Bobby Wilson and I fought for my country in Laos in Operation Dewey Canyon side by side with white soldiers.  Now my girls, Joy and Grace can go to a public school side by side with white children in Georgia.  This is truly a blessed day.  I can tell you are not like those other girls.  I mean besides being able to see ghosts, you have a gentle heart.  Please be nice to my daughters,” he said.   “I will,” I said my eyes filling with tears because I would tear my heart out of my daddy died.   The soldier bowed his head and faded off. 

“Hey, little girl -don’t you go playing with those tar babies,” I heard an angry booming voice behind me say.   I jumped and saw another ghost, an older white man in overalls and a cap.  He had deep set black eyes and what looked like a permanent scowl on his face and tobacco juice dribbling down his chin.  He was skinny and about six feet tall.  I could tell he was not a nice man.  “I’m Betty’s great grandfather, Ed Whitehead and you best let her be your friend or else,” he said filling me with terror.  “She’s a mean girl,” I said trying to run away.   The ghost flew over my head and got into my face, his dark eyes looking into mine.  “Look girlie, this used to be my farm land and I was fine when it was a school for whites only but now with all these - these -“ he was so mad his mouth started to foam and he spat out more ghostly tobacco juice - “You ain’t never been taught right - now stay with your own kind!!!” he bellowed and faded away.  My heart was beating - I had never encountered a horrible entity like that before.  I was running as fast as I could - my feet blistering in those ill fitting Hushpuppies.  I was looking back when I ran into my teacher, Miss Bentley.  “Sophia, my word, I’ve been all over looking for you.  Please stay with the group,” she said sounding annoyed.  Great, my first 20 minutes of school and I had encountered the mean girls, a gentle soldier ghost and an old racist apparition who threatened harm if I befriended the only two people at school that I could relate to.  I wanted to reach out to those girls but that old man scared the crap out of me.  Maybe once I got home, I could ask Etta and she would know what to do.  

I kept to myself the rest of the day.  The mean girls had decided that I was not of their ilk so they let me be.   Joy and Grace sat together at lunch but were completely alone.  I tried to remain invisible but Miss Bentley wanted all of us to be included in everything.  At the end of the day, it was time for Show and Tell and we were all required to share.   Most of the children seemed to have an excited look on their face except for me and the Wilson girls.   One by one, each child got up with a wonderful tale of what they did for summer vacation - trips to Savannah, St. Simons, Stone Mountain or a day at Six Flags.  Each time another child sat down and it got closer to me, my heart beat harder.  What was I going to say?  My baby kitty Sassy got killed and I began to see ghosts. My mother’s family reunion was fun up until the part where I told the family secrets.  My father left my mother so hell yeah, it had been an awesome summer.   

I looked over at the Wilson girls and knew that even with all the crap that I had endured it was nothing compared to losing a father in a war.  I had to think of something that happened during the summer - something fun.  Finally, it was my turn and I thought of the most fun thing I could think of.  I got up and smiled, “This summer my Etta and me made chocolate chip cookies and we watched I Spy and Julia together,” I said beaming.  “Is Etta your aunt?” asked Teddy, the red headed kid with glasses.   “Etta sounds like a colored name, is she colored?” asked Betty who was getting on my last nerve.  “Etta is my bestest friend,” I said confidently, “and for Christmas I would like a Julia Doll.”  Joy and Grace looked up smiled for the first time that day.  “We do too,” they said together.  The room fell silent and the other six year olds were for at a loss for words.  

“Well,” said Miss Bentley uncomfortably, “that’s very nice Sophia -let’s see if anyone else wants to -“  “Why would you want a Barbie with dark skin? That’s just stupid!” exclaimed Betty throwing back her long blond hair.  Her remark made me mad and those girls needed to be taken down a few notches.  “No you’re stupid, I can play with whatever doll I want to -“ the other kids except for the mean girls started to laugh.  Then the lights started to flicker and I looked to see if Miss Bentley was flashing the fluorescents to get everyone’s attention, but she was sitting with us and no where near the light switch.  I felt a sudden cold shock of air and there was old man Whitehead just looking at me with an image of a flaming cross behind him.  There was a flash of light and then the  windowless room went dark.  The kids started to scream and Miss Bentley tried to reassure us, “Children, it’s fine, just a little problem with the lights.”  She stumbled to her desk and hit the button to the intercom to the office, “Hello, this is Miss Bentley in Kindergarten room A, our lights are out-“ The bell for the end of school rang and the lights went back on.  The kids cheered and the Whitehead ghost was gone.  We gathered up our things walked in single file to the car pick-up lane.  

I knew I had to keep my promise to Lt. Wilson.  When I saw Joy and Grace’s mother, I walked up to her.  “Hello, my name is Sophia and I gotta to tell you and your girls something.”  Mrs. Wilson looked at me quizzically. I’m pretty sure she didn’t expect what I was about to say.  “Joy and Grace’s daddy was here to day and he loves you all very much.  He misses them because he got killed in Vieername in Lousy.  But he was proud to fight with the white soldiers.”  There I had delivered the message and I didn’t care what that old Whitehead ghost thought.  

Mrs. Wilson just looked at me - her face going from confusion, to happiness to sadness in just a few seconds.  “How did you know that?” she stammered.  “You saw our daddy today?  He was here?” asked Joy looking hopeful.  Grace just started to cry and said, “I miss my daddy.”  “Now Sophia, you need to come along baby girl” I heard Etta say just as I turned to see that she was picking me up from school instead of mother.   “I’m sorry if she upset you,” said Etta calmly.  “It’s like you said momma, daddy is an angel looking after us and Sophia saw him!” said Joy excitedly.  I smiled at Etta who was concerned as she and Mrs. Wilson looked around to see if anyone else could hear our conversation.  “It is not natural for that child to know such things,” Mrs. Wilson whispered as she tried to comfort Grace.  “I know, but she has a gift and a good heart that’s probably why your husband reached out to her.  God gives us all gifts in different ways,” said Etta gently.  Mrs. Wilson seemed to feel comforted that Etta felt my skill was God-given and not devil made.  “I know — I know he’s around and I feel better that he’s looking after the girls and me.  It’s just shock to hear -“ her voice trailed off as tears run down her face.  Etta looked around once more and while the other parents were not paying attention to our group- but in another minute or two, that might change.  “We need to go- but it was nice meeting you and your girls, God bless you all.”  Etta and I walked away from the Wilson’s as they tried comprehend what had just happened.  

We got into our white station wagon and Etta buckled me into the back seat.  “Sophia,  you were not supposed to talk to ghosts,” said Etta sounding a little irritated.  “I know ma’am, I tried but they kept talking to me.  Especially that old man Whitehead.  He is a very bad man.”  Etta gasped when I said the name Whitehead.  “You saw that man today?  What did he say?”  “Well, he didn’t want my playing with Joy and Grace and only wanted me to play with Betty - like I got to stick with my own kind.  This was his farm land and he wants whites only.  When I was talking during Show and Tell, he started to make the lights go on and off and I saw him standing next to a burning cross.  What does that mean?”  Etta sat there looking visably shaken.  “It means you are right, he’s a very bad man.  Let’s not tell your mother okay?”  “Okay, can I tell Granddaddy?” I asked.  Etta smiled, “Actually I think Granddaddy might be the perfect person to tell.”  

When I got home, mother was there and told me she got caught up in her charity bazaar meeting.  She asked how the first day of school went and how sweet little Betty was.  I did not want to tell her that little girl was a total racist bitch that I wanted nothing to do with.  I instead said, “It was fun, we had Show and Tell - “ “What did you tell about?” my mother asked apprehensively.   “I told them how much fun I have with Etta,” I replied because it was the truth.  My mother seemed relived and a little hurt at the same time.   Etta made me dinner and we went upstairs afterward.  Mother decided to give me a bath and to talk to me.  “Sophia, it sounds like you had quite a good first day.  I’m glad you feel like you are fitting in.”  “Yes ‘em, momma, I’m trying as hard as I can,” I said sweetly hoping that would keep her from asking me any more questions.   I started to play with my mermaid doll and looked down so our conversation would end.  My mother seemed satisfied with that.  She dried me off and helped me put on my night gown.  “Here you go young lady, now you can watch a little TV before bedtime, okay?”  “Okay, mommy,” I said noticing she was more attentive then usual.  She hugged me and let Etta take over.  

“Mommy was extra nice tonight,” I said.  “That’s right Sophia, your mother loves you very much,” said Etta, “that’s why we can’t trouble her with everything that happened today.”  We sat down to watch Julia in my room.  “You know, me, Joy and Grace all want a Julia doll for Christmas,” I said happily thinking that Santa would hear me even if Christmas was still over three months away.  “I’ll let Santa know,” Etta said with a smile.  “Now, when you talk to Granddaddy tonight tell him about Mr. Whitehead - I have a feeling he might have known him.  Please ask him to come to school with you tomorrow.  If you need extra help you can say the Lord’s Prayer like I taught you.  That prayer and Granddaddy should keep you safe,” Etta explained as she hugged me good night.   The door closed and just like clock work, Granddaddy appeared.  

“Hey there, little darling, how was the first day of school?” he asked as he put Sassy down on my bed.  “Well, Etta thinks you can help me with an old mean ghost named Mr. Whitehead - “  “Sweet suffering Christ, not Ed Whitehead - I never liked that old bastard,”  Granddaddy exclaimed. “Well, his great granddaughter is a mean girl and he wants me to be her friend and not be friends with the two black girls in my class.  He told me I had to like Betty or else and then he appeared in the classroom with a burning cross behind him,” I was shivering because the image and that man scared me.  “That Goddamned old cracker has the balls to threaten my great granddaughter?” he shouted.  Sassy jumped and got under the covers with me.  “When folks found out that he was a member of the Klan, they stopped getting their produce from him.  Eventually, he couldn’t buy his way out of trouble and the bank took his farm,” Granddaddy recounted angrily.  “Etta thought that you could come to school with me and protect me,” I said hoping he would.  “You are Goddamned right I will- living or dead, some people need to learn their place,” said Granddaddy with a determined tone.  “You sleep tight sugar bear, I’ve got this.”  

The next day, I was ready for school and so was Granddaddy.  He sat next to me in the back seat while Mommy drove us to school.  When she let me off, I tried to leave the car fast but she insisted waving to Betty who just ignored us.  “Why isn’t Betty saying hello?” she asked.  “I don’t know, maybe she’s in a bad mood, it happens,” I said.  “Sophia, why would she be in a bad mood?” mother asked.  “Okay, she was mean to the two Wilson sisters and I stood up for them and now she doesn’t like me but the Wilson sisters do so I have friends, bye-“ I said trying to really get away fast.  “Wait, who are the Wilson sisters?” she asked just as Joy and Grace walked up.  “Hey Sophia, let us know if you see our daddy today.  Grace is not scared anymore,” said Joy smiling.  Grace also smiled and waved.  They walked into school and my mother gave me a very long serious look.  “Those are the Wilson girls?  I read in the paper their father died in the war and he talked to you?”  Mother seemed angry and I couldn’t tell if it was because I talked to a ghost or because the girls were black or because the ghost was black - I have a hard time reading her sometimes.  “Mommy, he talked to me and I tried not to but-“ just then the bell rang and the school day was starting.  “Bye mommy - “ I said as I ran to my classroom happy to have the conversation end. 

I got the room just as the Jeb the janitor was checking the lights.  They were flickering and there was old man Whitehead in the corner just looking at me.  This time I had back-up and I saw my Granddaddy go over to him.  “Goddammit, Ed, you stay away from Sophia and those Wilson girls,” he said with authority.  “Fuck you, Chuck,” he retorted,  “You ain’t one to be putting on righteous aires, you ain’t always been so open to the Coons around here - I remember back in 1912 when we burned down the barn of that nig-“ “Watch it!” shouted Granddaddy.  “He mouthed off to a white woman and we burned down his barn - you ain’t so innocent.” said Mr. Whitehead with an air of superiority.  “I regretted that the minute we set the fire- and I never did anything like that again.  Can you say the same thing?!!” yelled Granddaddy.  “The worse thing was you brought your 12 year old son to witness it.  You just spread hate your entire life, it’s what sustained you when you were alive and it’s all you got now that you’re dead.”  

Mr. Whitehead glared at Granddaddy,  He went over the the Wilson girls and started to knock things off their desks.  Granddaddy tried to stop him but more things kept being knocked over.  Joy, Grace and the rest of the children started to scream.   Miss Bentley and Jeb tried to get the children to calm down but the fear in their voices betrayed their intentions.   The lights began in flicker wildly.  “Everybody get under the desks,” I yelled with a clarity that actually surprised me.  Miss Bentley was in a panic and tried to get to the intercom to work to ask for more help.  The lights went off just as Mr. Whitehead grabbed Grace.  I saw a soldier’s hands punch him hard in the face.  For a second, Lt. Wilson was visible to both his two girls, “Get with Sophia where you will be safe,” he commended them.   The girls got under the desk with me and we all put our arms around each other.  

“How dare you punch me boy - “ spewed that old nasty cracker. “Don’t you know you could get hanged for that?” “I’m not a boy, I’m a man and you have no right to be here - this is not your land anymore,” said Lt. Wilson like a true warrior.  “I fought and paid the ultimate sacrifice in the war so my girls could have a good education and a chance at a decent life.  You are not going to take that from them.” 

“Give it up Ed, you’re time here is gone -” said Granddaddy as he stood shoulder to shoulder with Lt. Wilson as a protective shield between the children and the evil entity.  “I didn’t fight for my country just to have the likes of him run me off my land!!“ shouted Mr. Whitehead whose face was turning blood red while his eyes became nothing but black disks of despair.  “You fought for the wrong cause Ed, you never saw how lost it was,” said Granddaddy sadly.  “How can you say that?  Our fathers were in the confederacy - they fought like brothers-“ he responded.  “The Civil War was a sham, it was all about keeping the status quo for the rich.  Our fathers were pawns for the wealthy landowners who didn’t give a shit who got killed as long as they could keep their plantations - it wasn’t about honor it was just about fucking greed,” exclaimed Granddaddy.  

“I’ll show you!!” bellowed Whitehead as he expanded to the size of the ceiling - his face filling with more blood and his dark eyes pulsing.  Suddenly two red dragons with Klan hoods came out of his eyes and started to lunge at Lt. Wilson and Granddaddy.  It’s fangs got closer and closer but Granddaddy and Lt. Wilson would not move because they were the only thing standing between the dragons and the children.  

“Our father who art in Heaven - Hallowed be thy name,” I started to say aloud because I was scared and maybe like Etta said, this prayer might help.  “Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven,” continued Joy and Grace.  The rest of the children joined in and continued with the prayer, “Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.” All the kids started to hold each others’ hands during the prayer.  Betty who was next to me and the Wilson girls reached over and held their hands.  

When Old Man Whitehead saw that, he looked like he had been shot in the heart.   “NOOO!!” he shouted.  He started to shrink and the dragons shot back into his eyes and dissolved.  “You got one chance at redemption, you gonna take it Ed?” asked Granddaddy as the ceiling started to swirl.  “Hell no, my pappy was right, my Grandpappy was right - I ain’t going against them, we were right - Goddammit, we were right -“ the ceiling started to turn from white to black and these very bad spirits started to circle around Mr. Whitehead.  His human features started to melt off as his body was pulled into the vortex - he was screaming trying to hold on.  I covered my ears since I was the only one who could see or hear it.  He was finally completely consumed as the roof closed.  I looked up and I could see that it was back to the white ceiling tiles with a few pieces of gum and pencils stuck to them.  

“It looks like that old peck of wood is gone for good,” said Granddaddy.  “Thank you for standing with me,” replied Lt. Wilson.  “I have been trying to redeem myself for - for what I did - “ “If you were not forgiven, you would have gone with him - but you got a good heart like Sophia,”  explained Lt. Wilson.  “I realize now that maybe I needed to be here for my girls like this instead of alive to protect them.  Now I can be at peace with what happened.” For the first time, I saw Lt. Robert Wilson smile.  He walked over to his girls, kissed their heads and faded out.   Granddaddy smiled at me and faded out as well.  

The lights came back on and except for all the thrown books - the room seemed to be back to normal.  When the other teachers arrived, they attributed the mess and noise to the black out.   The class got out from under their desks.  Mrs. Bentely smoothed her hair and tried to regain her composure. Unfortunately, she got in a little bit of trouble because the people in the office heard us praying (which apparently you can’t do in public school even if you are under an attack from a demonic entity).  We were all allowed to go to recess while the janitors inspected the lights.  

“I saw my daddy,” said Joy.  “Me too,” said Grace.  “He’s around watching over us.”  “I got my Granddaddy watching over me too,” I said smiling trying to focus on them and the sunlight instead of all things I had just seen and heard.   I would tell Etta everything that night and thank Granddaddy at bedtime.  But for the rest of the day, I didn’t feel like an outsider.  I was just a little girl.  Best of all, me and the Wilson girls had lunch together.

Sophia Gardeen is a nationally recognized Medium who is currently working on the show Ghost Wanderers for the Supernatural Channel.  She also makes one hell of a good butterscotch blond brownie.