“Well, what do you think?  Should we put her out of her misery or let her continue her quest?”  Ceres asked in a matter-of-fact manner.

            “I think she deserves one more chance.  The two previous lives seemed promising, but she wasn’t quite ready,” Janus spoke up.  “Perhaps one more opportunity is all she needs.  I will grant her that.”

            Fortuna ventured, “Try as I might to help her, the free will the humans possess has played havoc with my blessings.  However, I will agree to one more chance for happiness.”

            Minerva and Juno concurred with the others, “We will do what we can to help.”

 

 

1955

 

            Susan kept her head down as her fingers toyed with the blanket on the unmade bed.  Her chest was heaving from the tears she had shed earlier.  Now she was trying not to look at her mother, hoping that if she kept her head down and didn’t say anything, her mother would get tired of her and leave her alone.  No such luck.

            Rosie grabbed the five year old by the arm, digging her nails into the soft flesh, and jerked her back and forth as she screamed, “I hate you!  I wish you’d never been born!”  Susan’s head whipped back and forth with every jerk until she thought it would go flying off across the room.  Her sobbing began again as the pain in her arm increased.  Rosie drew back her other hand and slapped Susan hard across the face.

            “You shut up or I’ll give you something to cry about!”

            Susan closed her mouth and tried to hold her sobs inside.  She knew it wouldn’t matter anyway.  She would still get a whipping, but she tried to suppress the sounds coming from her mouth so she wouldn’t make her mother any madder than she was.  Finally, Rosie tired of the shaking and shoved Susan as hard as she could across the room, hoping that with any luck the brat would hit her head hard enough to put her out of her misery.  She hit it all right, but received only a knot on the back of it.

            “You better stay out of my way, if you know what’s good for you!” Rosie told her as she stomped out of the bedroom.

            Susan lay there dazed for a few minutes before trying to sit up.  Every part of her five-year-old body hurt.  You’d think she’d be used to it by now, but she wasn’t.  She always hoped her mother would forgive her for being a girl.  Her other sisters had the same wish, but deep down inside they all knew they were hated.  Rosie hadn’t wanted any daughters, only sons, and had only received a son from her fifth and final pregnancy. 

            Susan gingerly pulled at the skin from the underside of her arm so she could see if it was bleeding.  No.  No blood, but a series of bruises were spreading where each fingertip had been.  She raised the hem of her shirt and wiped her face and eyes before wiping her nose.  She smoothed her shirt back down and moved her hand to the back of her head.  Ouch!  The knot was huge and hurt bad.  She must have hit the knob on the drawer when she fell.  She sat quietly for several more minutes before she crawled across the floor to the door so she could peek out and see where her mother was. 

            It looked as if the coast was clear, so Susan eased her way through the door, pausing to listen for voices.  Wherever the voices were, she wanted to go the opposite direction.  Finally, she heard the television come on it the den, so she made a quiet exit through the living room and out the front door, closing the screen door softly.  She looked around the yard and decided the tree was her best option, and she ran and jumped up to grab the lowest hanging limb, and began pulling herself up among the branches.  As soon as she reached the highest limb that would support her weight, she propped her battered body against the rough trunk, draped her legs on either side of the branch, and tried to relax and breathe.

            I wish I was at Grandmother’s house.  I’d really like some of her strawberry shortcake right now.  Grandmother loves me.  Mama hates me.  That realization was nothing new.  They were all reminded of it daily.  This just happened to be her day for it.  Susan closed her eyes and tried to shut out the world, but her thoughts were black and swirling.  I hate you and I wish you were dead!  You’re the meanest mama anybody ever had!  I wish I could run away and you’d never find me.  Maybe a nice family would find me.  I hate getting whippings all the time, I hate that skinny black belt, and I hate having bruises all over me.

            “Susan!”

            Susan’s eyes jerked open to see who was calling her.  She leaned over to the right so she could peer through a gap in the leaves, and saw Nola standing on the front steps looking for her.

            “Susan!  You better hurry up before Mama comes looking for you!”

            “I’m coming!” Susan yelled back as she scurried and slid against the rough bark until she was low enough to drop to the ground.  She landed awkwardly on a root protruding from the ground, lost her balance, and fell backward on the grass.

            Nola turned on her heel and went back inside the house without waiting for Susan.  Susan scrambled to her feet and ran, grabbing the screen door, flinging it open, running into the living room as the door slammed shut behind her.  She pulled up sharply at the sound of the slam and winced to herself.

            “Who keeps slamming that goddamn door?!” Rosie screamed from the dining room.

            “I’m sorry,” Susan called out.  “I didn’t mean to slam it.”

            “If I hear that door slam one more time I’m gonna beat your ass off you, do you hear me?!”  Rosie screamed at Susan.

            “I won’t do it again.”  Susan held her breath until she made sure her mother wasn’t going to get up from the table.  She made her way to the table and sat down in her usual spot.  She waited for her mother to give the unspoken signal that they could begin to serve themselves.  She tried her best not to get more than she could eat, because she didn’t want to have to sit at the table eating until she was sick at her stomach again.  Supper was the same as usual….potatoes, green beans, and corn with a tomato sliced on a saucer.  The only time they got any type of cooked meat for a meal was sometimes on Sunday if her mother felt like cooking it.  Otherwise, the sisters all took turns cooking whatever was available, and that was vegetables.

            “Whose turn is it to wash dishes?” Rosie asked.

            “Nola’s.  And it’s Susan’s turn to dry.”  Pat pointed out.  Pat was older than Susan and Nola, but she was a year younger than Eileen. 

            “You better make sure that kitchen’s clean before you go to bed tonight, young lady!  I’m sick and tired of getting up to a dirty kitchen in the morning,” Rosie stated flatly.  “If it’s not clean I’m gonna drag your ass outta bed, beat your ass, and then you’re gonna clean it up!” she threatened.

            Nola nodded quietly.  She always cleaned the kitchen up good.  Pat was the one who left it dirty and got the rest of them in trouble.  Boy, if only she could run away from home so Pat would have to do the dishes all the time.  But she knew she never would.  Nola hoped they could get through the evening without any more problems.  Susan was too small to be drying dishes, but size or age didn’t count around here when it came to work.  Please don’t let Susan break anything tonight.  Nola offered up a silent prayer.  She didn’t want a whipping today….her mother was already too mad, and a whipping tonight was likely to be really bad.  Somebody would get hurt bad.