Post by KG on Jul 6, 2006 2:16:13 GMT -5
Eugene
Eugene watched the classroom clock impatiently. It was only 2:30 pm. That meant another half hour in this hellhole. He just wanted to run. He wanted to dive out that schoolhouse window and take flight. Mostly he wanted this day to be over with, and he wanted to avoid the bullies who plagued him on the way out. That was the situation, but anyone else would see it as the other way around. He was the troublemaker, the outsider, and the one who didn’t belong.
Sure his family had always lived here in the little rural community, just outside Fairington. Sure his dad went to the same school when he was a kid, but you didn’t have to be a genius to figure out that for all his lies, his dad was just as much of an outcast then as Eugene was now. Yes their condition was hereditary. He was born to be the butt of all the popular kids’ jokes, just as his father had probably been before him, and as his kids would likely be twenty years from now, if he ever had kids. Right now that didn’t seem likely. No girl ever looked at him, especially is she knew who he was. Mandy Whitehall had been more than a little interested in him, when she first moved here from Ohio, but after a few whispered comments from the other girls, and watching the way the guys treated him… no one could respect him after the way he was usually treated.
The clock ticked so softly on the wall. Eugene tried to mentally map the way to the door, trying to avoid people as one would plan an obstacle course. Unfortunately Eric was sitting in the desk right next to the door, and he knew that Eric would intercept him. No one would interfere no matter what Eric said or did to him. Eric was tall, athletic, and supposedly handsome. His father was plant manager, in the mill where almost all of his classmate’s parents were employees. If he killed Eugene, no one would care. Not that Eric would want to kill him. It was too much fun to torment him every day. Behind Eric, were Mike and Mark, and beside him was Philip.
As hard to take as these guys were, they were only the obvious part of what made living in this place miserable for him. The whispers of the women in town were worse, in some ways. What were they whispering about anyway? Anyone could see he was a pathetic looser. It was no secret, but why did everyone share this strange contempt for him. What exactly did they say in their hushed voices, and why was it so shocking?
Finally the bell sounded. Eugene had been clutching his books ready to sprint from the class, as soon as the bell rang. He had almost gained the door, when he realized he was falling. Eric, had remained in his seat, and deliberately tripped him. It seemed that everyone in the classroom was howling with laughter, as Eugene fell sprawling on the floor. He expected to hear more jeers, but something in his mind took over and blocked the sound. It was suddenly quiet in his mind. He got up quickly and dashed for the door, thanking God for the tiny bit of control he had over his own senses.
Really that exit had gone about as smoothly as the rest of his days. Why was the world so set against him? What had he, or his father done to deserve being the scourge of the community? He had endured this problem all his life, but it was getting worse. Finally he dared to ask the obvious question. Why?
At home, Eugene stared blankly into the bathroom mirror. His soft blond curls cascaded softly over one eyebrow, He carefully stroked his hair back with one hand, and examined his face. He tried to be objective about his looks for a moment. Sure his T-shirt was worn out, and it didn’t have a fancy name brand or a cool saying. It came from the flea market, and its message was worn off for the most part, which was just as well. His shoes were worn out, and not the kind everyone else wore. They were actually his Sunday Church shoes, and not the ever-popular brand name sneakers. His Jeans were tight, and not the popular gangster-look. It was easy to see that his clothes might be part of the problem. Twenty years ago they may have been completely charming, but now… it just wasn’t working. There was nothing he could do about his clothing though. His parents did the best they could, and besides, most of these people were not rich, plenty of people dressed no better than he did. Clothes may have been an excuse, but they were certainly not the reason for this hell.
Eugene again focused on his face. His deep-set green eyes, peered over his high sharp cheekbones. He fingered the cleft in his chin. He tried to be objective, but there just wasn’t anything wrong with that face really. Nothing he could see anyway.
He crept into the hallway for a moment, and pulled a book from the shelf. This was his dad’s old high-school annual. He silently took it back to the mirror. Someone had wrote the words fart face, over his dad’s picture. How humiliating that must be for his dad. He stared at the picture, trying hard to look past the writing. It was his face in every way, and the clothing, or at least the shirt was amazingly similar. Everyone else had dressed for their senior portrait, but his dad had apparently just shown up in a grungy shirt, that he must have been fixing the car in earlier.
Eugene would have given anything to have someone to talk to about this feeling, which welled inside, but there was no one. He had no friends since he had started Middle School last year. In grade school, Vincent Parks had been his best friend in the world, but now… well Vincent had distanced himself, for his own good. It hurt, but Eugene didn’t really blame him exactly. It was sad, but Vincent had done what he had to. Vincent was not a lot more popular than Eugene, but a little, and no one really made fun of him. Vincent was just quiet and people ignored him. Vincent had no friends, but he had no enemies either. Most people just left him alone, and forgot he was there. He had been able to just fade into the background.
Suddenly Eugene wanted to talk to Vincent, not just because he missed him, but because he wanted answers. Eugene grabbed his coat and headed for the door. He knew Vincent’s mom, and figured she would let him in the house at least, and he didn’t think shy little Vincent would be able to turn him away. Besides it was mostly being seen in public with Eugene that Vincent wanted to avoid. They could talk in Vincent’s room and no one would have to know.
Vincent’s family had lived on the same road as his family only about a mile from his own home. His maternal Grandmother lived next door, and even a hundred years ago their ancestors had been neighbors. Maybe Vincent knew why his family had always been so looked down on. If not his mom surely would.
Suddenly he thought of Vincent’s mom. Why put Vincent on the spot. Why not just talk to his mom, Judy.
Judy and Bill Parks had divorced about two years ago, while Eugene and Vincent had still been friends. When he thought about it, it would be perfect to speak to Vincent’s mother about this. Now he was only hoping that Vincent wouldn’t interrupt.
Eugene took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. If he were not so desperate to talk to someone he would have just run away, but he was desperate, so he rang the bell and waited. He waited for what seemed like a long time, and then rang the bell again. Finally Judy opened the door. Her hair was up in a towel, and she was wearing a thin, slightly wet, silk bathrobe. She was obviously naked and wet beneath the silk, and it clung to her, in a rather obvious way.
Despite the fact that he had apparently interrupted her shower, she smiled at him very warmly. It was a sweet, sympathetic smile, which in his current frame of mind, made his eyes sting with the tears he was holding back. He managed to gain control of them, but just barely.
“Hi Eugene,” Her voice was as sweet as southern molasses, as it flowed ever so softly from her perfectly natural pink lips. Eugene had never seen a woman in this state of undress or absence of make-up before, other than his mom, and she didn’t count. Besides his mom didn’t ever look like that.
“Hi Mrs. Parks” Eugene managed to say, but then he stopped and just looked at her awkwardly. So Judy continued.
“I thought I told you a long time ago to just call me Judy! I am so glad to see you Eugene. You haven’t been here in over a year! How come?” She paused for just a second but there was no answer, so she continued. “Where are my manners? Come in Eugene, and we’ll have some cookies. Do you still like cookies?” There was another brief pause, Eugene nodded and tried to smile, but his eyes gave away his sadness. He slipped in the door and followed Judy to the kitchen.
“Vincent isn’t here. He’s gone for the weekend to stay with his dad, but I hope you will stay a while and talk to me. I get so lonely on these weekends. I am so glad you stopped by. Here, you look like you could use a cookie. Rough day?” Judy sat a plate of cookies on the table, and poured a large glass of chocolate milk, she then picked up her own glass, which was already full and sitting on the kitchen counter.
“Most of them are.” Eugene said softly, looking down at the imitation wood grain on Judy’s kitchen table. He didn’t know if she would hear him or not. He had spoken very softly on purpose, and left it to chance whether she heard him.
“What’s wrong honey?” Judy asked in her sweet southern drawl. Her robe opened a little as she leaned forward. She obviously didn’t notice, and Eugene tried not to look.
“It is a long story. I really just need to talk to someone who might understand, or know more about it than I do. It might take a little while, do you have time?”
“Sure thing sweetie. Do you mind if I get dressed. I’ll just be a minute, and I’ll be right back.”
“Sure! I’ll wait right here.” Thank God, Eugene thought. He was uncomfortable about seeing his friend’s mother like that. Mrs. Parks had been a chubby little woman when Mr. Parks had left, but she looked different somehow today. It was quite a transformation actually. She was very pretty, maybe a little too pretty, he thought. On top of his other problems looking at “the new Judy” wet and half naked, was really unnerving.
“Now, that is better.” Judy entered the room, wearing a jeans and a T-shirt, and Eugene suddenly felt much more comfortable. “So… you wanted to talk?”
All the pain and heartbreak just poured out of Eugene, he struggled not to cry, and he did manage, but it wasn’t easy. Judy did cry, she wept bitterly, and patted the back of his hand in an effort to be supportive. “I didn’t mean to make you cry Judy, I just wanted to ask you what is wrong with me that people treat me this way? What did I or my family ever do to make people hate us so much?
Judy bit her lip, and for once she was completely silent. She just looked at him, her eyes brimming with tears, “I don’t know exactly…” she finally said softly. “You are a wonderful person, and so polite, even when you were little. I wanted you to come and play with Vincent, cause you were such a sweet respectful little boy. Later, I knew I didn’t have to worry about Vincent getting into trouble as long as you two were friends. I mean you always seemed so strong and able to do the right thing no matter what anyone thought. I admired your choices not to dress Goth or Gangsta. You have always been so sensible, and normal seeming. I had no idea you felt such pain, or that you were teased like that. Honestly, though I can understand why it bothers you of course, I am somehow surprised that it does. You seem so strong, and so much like your father.”
Eugene looked up at Judy, who was now standing beside him, with her hand on his shoulder. He didn’t know what he had expected her to say, but this wasn’t what he expected at all. He thought she would reveal some dark family shame, which he was too young to know about. He still suspected there might be something like that, which she was avoiding, but for now he just appreciated the idea that someone at least found him acceptable, and even admirable.
“I appreciate the compliment, and the fact that you at least like me, but I think you must be the only one in town who does. I mean no one at school will have anything to do with me, in town the elderly ladies whisper behind my back. Even at church, I feel like everyone is looking down their noses at me. I just want to know why. What did I do?”
“You haven’t done anything wrong Eugene, and neither has your family.”
“You went to school with my dad. Why did they pick on him?”
“You know about that? What? Did he tell you about it?”
“No, but I kind of figured it out. I mean dad isn’t exactly a good lyer. It is pretty obvious from things he says, that he is leaving stuff out a lot. Also I saw his high school annual, where people wrote in it… Well it is very obvious from that.”
“I don’t know what those other people were thinking, but I will say this; Your father is one of the finest men I have ever known. I’ve always known that, from the time we were kids, and I just wish I had been bold enough to do something about it.”
“Well there probably isn’t much you could have done. I mean if you had spoken up, they would have just made fun of you too.”
Judy suddenly looked very embarrassed, but she continued. “That wasn’t what I meant.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Sure.”
“You can’t tell anyone, especially not your mom and dad.”
Finally she was getting to the awful truth, Eugene thought. “I won’t tell.” He answered eagerly.
“When I was a little girl, your father and I used to play together. He was my best friend, but it was more than that. I had a really huge crush on him. I thought he was the most handsome boy I had ever seen, and I admired his strong character. As I got older though, my mother stopped letting us play together so much, and she said some things that were really uncalled for. At school he was picked on a lot. I wasn’t very popular, but more acceptable than he was. I wanted to say to hell with all of them all, even my mom. I really planned to one day. I…” Judy paused and looked at Eugene, nervously. I loved your father, but when he finally did asked me out… I turned him down. I had heard that Bill was going to ask me to the prom, and I was star struck by the fact that Bill was very popular, and at the time it seemed his family had money. They really didn’t, but kids think those kinds of things, what they had was a lot of debt. Anyway, I am ashamed and very sorry that I turned your father down. I have quite honestly regretted it every day of my life, especially after I married Bill Parks.” There was a note of sarchaism in her voice as she spoke the name of her ex husband. “I really loved your dad more than anything else in the world, and I am not ashamed of that at all, but I am deeply ashamed of the fact that I let other people’s opinions out weigh my own feelings.”
Eugene looked at her completely stunned. This was something he really hadn’t expected. He was just speechless for a moment. Finally he stammered, “But why?… What did your mom say about him?”
Some really stupid things! Very, Very Stupid things that you should not worry about honey!
“Like what?”
Judy’s lip quivered. She sobbed uncontrollably, gasped for breath. She looked devastated and somewhat panicked. She just shook her head no, and continued to concentrate on to try to catch her breath. This time Eugene stood up and put his arm around her. It seemed like the thing to do, since she was obviously crying uncontrollably. Judy looked at Eugene strangely, and he slowly released her, unsure of what to do now. He patted her shoulder gently before letting go. This was so awkward.
Finally she calmed down a little, and he chanced to ask again, “what did your mother say?”
Judy trembled. “It is so silly, I mean they use these nonsense words, and then they describe the craziest little bits of evidence to prove the point. As nearly as I can translate the situation, your great grandmother had some sort of emotional, or maybe mental problem. Your great grandfather drank a lot. It was during prohibition, and it was quite a scandal when he was caught running moonshine. He had a still apparently, though it was never found. After he was gone to prison, your great grandmother let everything go. She didn’t seem to care about anything. She had small children, and they came up really hard. They had no one to help them, and apparently rather than pitch in and help the poor woman, the community decided to just turn up their noses and refuse to associate with her. It was easier I suppose, than actually doing something to help, but it wasn’t right. My mother went on and on about that poor woman’s strange behavior. It was so stupid. I mean of course she was upset, and embarrassed, and of course she couldn’t run that farm adequately, take care of six small children, and keep the house spotless. No wonder she gave up. Even if she were a horrible person, which I am sure she wasn’t, it is hardly your fault, or your dad’s. It is just stupid to even think of that now. Those people are long dead. Your grandfather was a good person, and so was your grandmother. The fact that they still remember that with such importance is just so ignorant.
Do you mean that they are still gossiping about something that happened during the depression?
Basically yes, though they also make a big deal over every little detail of your lives, that goes wrong. When your father lost his job they gossiped about that, and speculated everything from the idea he was an alcoholic, to the possibility that he was embezzling. None of it was true, they were just guessing, but then it was told for the truth, as the gossip grew. When your mother left town for a week to visit your aunt, they gossiped that she had left your dad. When she was pregnant with you they speculated that you were not really your father’s son, but it is certainly obvious that you are. You look exactly like him.” Judy was now shaking again, with so many confused emotions that it was impossible for anyone, least of all 14 year old Eugene to comprehend what she was feeling exactly. She gazed into his eyes, and he was getting a hopelessly mixed signal, that he dared not try to read. Judy leaned forward a little, and there was clearly alcohol on her breath. He felt her warm breath on his cheek, and she started to embrace him, but then she turned suddenly, and walked to the kitchen cabinet. She leaned on it with both hands, and seemed to be trying to collect herself.
I am sorry. I probably shouldn’t have told you any of that, but no one else would, and you wanted to know. That is all I know about it. You should probably go now. You are just so much like your father…
Eugene looked at her with deep concern. “Are you OK Judy? I mean I can stay a little while. maybe we could cheer each other up a little. We don’t have to talk about the past anymore. I just don’t want to leave you like this… all upset I mean.”
Judy smiled softly that is sweet, and you can stay if you want. I just need to calm down. Would you like another cookie?
Judy walked to the sink and poured her drink down the drain. Then she poured a glass of milk for herself, and picked up a cookie.
Eugene watched the classroom clock impatiently. It was only 2:30 pm. That meant another half hour in this hellhole. He just wanted to run. He wanted to dive out that schoolhouse window and take flight. Mostly he wanted this day to be over with, and he wanted to avoid the bullies who plagued him on the way out. That was the situation, but anyone else would see it as the other way around. He was the troublemaker, the outsider, and the one who didn’t belong.
Sure his family had always lived here in the little rural community, just outside Fairington. Sure his dad went to the same school when he was a kid, but you didn’t have to be a genius to figure out that for all his lies, his dad was just as much of an outcast then as Eugene was now. Yes their condition was hereditary. He was born to be the butt of all the popular kids’ jokes, just as his father had probably been before him, and as his kids would likely be twenty years from now, if he ever had kids. Right now that didn’t seem likely. No girl ever looked at him, especially is she knew who he was. Mandy Whitehall had been more than a little interested in him, when she first moved here from Ohio, but after a few whispered comments from the other girls, and watching the way the guys treated him… no one could respect him after the way he was usually treated.
The clock ticked so softly on the wall. Eugene tried to mentally map the way to the door, trying to avoid people as one would plan an obstacle course. Unfortunately Eric was sitting in the desk right next to the door, and he knew that Eric would intercept him. No one would interfere no matter what Eric said or did to him. Eric was tall, athletic, and supposedly handsome. His father was plant manager, in the mill where almost all of his classmate’s parents were employees. If he killed Eugene, no one would care. Not that Eric would want to kill him. It was too much fun to torment him every day. Behind Eric, were Mike and Mark, and beside him was Philip.
As hard to take as these guys were, they were only the obvious part of what made living in this place miserable for him. The whispers of the women in town were worse, in some ways. What were they whispering about anyway? Anyone could see he was a pathetic looser. It was no secret, but why did everyone share this strange contempt for him. What exactly did they say in their hushed voices, and why was it so shocking?
Finally the bell sounded. Eugene had been clutching his books ready to sprint from the class, as soon as the bell rang. He had almost gained the door, when he realized he was falling. Eric, had remained in his seat, and deliberately tripped him. It seemed that everyone in the classroom was howling with laughter, as Eugene fell sprawling on the floor. He expected to hear more jeers, but something in his mind took over and blocked the sound. It was suddenly quiet in his mind. He got up quickly and dashed for the door, thanking God for the tiny bit of control he had over his own senses.
Really that exit had gone about as smoothly as the rest of his days. Why was the world so set against him? What had he, or his father done to deserve being the scourge of the community? He had endured this problem all his life, but it was getting worse. Finally he dared to ask the obvious question. Why?
At home, Eugene stared blankly into the bathroom mirror. His soft blond curls cascaded softly over one eyebrow, He carefully stroked his hair back with one hand, and examined his face. He tried to be objective about his looks for a moment. Sure his T-shirt was worn out, and it didn’t have a fancy name brand or a cool saying. It came from the flea market, and its message was worn off for the most part, which was just as well. His shoes were worn out, and not the kind everyone else wore. They were actually his Sunday Church shoes, and not the ever-popular brand name sneakers. His Jeans were tight, and not the popular gangster-look. It was easy to see that his clothes might be part of the problem. Twenty years ago they may have been completely charming, but now… it just wasn’t working. There was nothing he could do about his clothing though. His parents did the best they could, and besides, most of these people were not rich, plenty of people dressed no better than he did. Clothes may have been an excuse, but they were certainly not the reason for this hell.
Eugene again focused on his face. His deep-set green eyes, peered over his high sharp cheekbones. He fingered the cleft in his chin. He tried to be objective, but there just wasn’t anything wrong with that face really. Nothing he could see anyway.
He crept into the hallway for a moment, and pulled a book from the shelf. This was his dad’s old high-school annual. He silently took it back to the mirror. Someone had wrote the words fart face, over his dad’s picture. How humiliating that must be for his dad. He stared at the picture, trying hard to look past the writing. It was his face in every way, and the clothing, or at least the shirt was amazingly similar. Everyone else had dressed for their senior portrait, but his dad had apparently just shown up in a grungy shirt, that he must have been fixing the car in earlier.
Eugene would have given anything to have someone to talk to about this feeling, which welled inside, but there was no one. He had no friends since he had started Middle School last year. In grade school, Vincent Parks had been his best friend in the world, but now… well Vincent had distanced himself, for his own good. It hurt, but Eugene didn’t really blame him exactly. It was sad, but Vincent had done what he had to. Vincent was not a lot more popular than Eugene, but a little, and no one really made fun of him. Vincent was just quiet and people ignored him. Vincent had no friends, but he had no enemies either. Most people just left him alone, and forgot he was there. He had been able to just fade into the background.
Suddenly Eugene wanted to talk to Vincent, not just because he missed him, but because he wanted answers. Eugene grabbed his coat and headed for the door. He knew Vincent’s mom, and figured she would let him in the house at least, and he didn’t think shy little Vincent would be able to turn him away. Besides it was mostly being seen in public with Eugene that Vincent wanted to avoid. They could talk in Vincent’s room and no one would have to know.
Vincent’s family had lived on the same road as his family only about a mile from his own home. His maternal Grandmother lived next door, and even a hundred years ago their ancestors had been neighbors. Maybe Vincent knew why his family had always been so looked down on. If not his mom surely would.
Suddenly he thought of Vincent’s mom. Why put Vincent on the spot. Why not just talk to his mom, Judy.
Judy and Bill Parks had divorced about two years ago, while Eugene and Vincent had still been friends. When he thought about it, it would be perfect to speak to Vincent’s mother about this. Now he was only hoping that Vincent wouldn’t interrupt.
Eugene took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. If he were not so desperate to talk to someone he would have just run away, but he was desperate, so he rang the bell and waited. He waited for what seemed like a long time, and then rang the bell again. Finally Judy opened the door. Her hair was up in a towel, and she was wearing a thin, slightly wet, silk bathrobe. She was obviously naked and wet beneath the silk, and it clung to her, in a rather obvious way.
Despite the fact that he had apparently interrupted her shower, she smiled at him very warmly. It was a sweet, sympathetic smile, which in his current frame of mind, made his eyes sting with the tears he was holding back. He managed to gain control of them, but just barely.
“Hi Eugene,” Her voice was as sweet as southern molasses, as it flowed ever so softly from her perfectly natural pink lips. Eugene had never seen a woman in this state of undress or absence of make-up before, other than his mom, and she didn’t count. Besides his mom didn’t ever look like that.
“Hi Mrs. Parks” Eugene managed to say, but then he stopped and just looked at her awkwardly. So Judy continued.
“I thought I told you a long time ago to just call me Judy! I am so glad to see you Eugene. You haven’t been here in over a year! How come?” She paused for just a second but there was no answer, so she continued. “Where are my manners? Come in Eugene, and we’ll have some cookies. Do you still like cookies?” There was another brief pause, Eugene nodded and tried to smile, but his eyes gave away his sadness. He slipped in the door and followed Judy to the kitchen.
“Vincent isn’t here. He’s gone for the weekend to stay with his dad, but I hope you will stay a while and talk to me. I get so lonely on these weekends. I am so glad you stopped by. Here, you look like you could use a cookie. Rough day?” Judy sat a plate of cookies on the table, and poured a large glass of chocolate milk, she then picked up her own glass, which was already full and sitting on the kitchen counter.
“Most of them are.” Eugene said softly, looking down at the imitation wood grain on Judy’s kitchen table. He didn’t know if she would hear him or not. He had spoken very softly on purpose, and left it to chance whether she heard him.
“What’s wrong honey?” Judy asked in her sweet southern drawl. Her robe opened a little as she leaned forward. She obviously didn’t notice, and Eugene tried not to look.
“It is a long story. I really just need to talk to someone who might understand, or know more about it than I do. It might take a little while, do you have time?”
“Sure thing sweetie. Do you mind if I get dressed. I’ll just be a minute, and I’ll be right back.”
“Sure! I’ll wait right here.” Thank God, Eugene thought. He was uncomfortable about seeing his friend’s mother like that. Mrs. Parks had been a chubby little woman when Mr. Parks had left, but she looked different somehow today. It was quite a transformation actually. She was very pretty, maybe a little too pretty, he thought. On top of his other problems looking at “the new Judy” wet and half naked, was really unnerving.
“Now, that is better.” Judy entered the room, wearing a jeans and a T-shirt, and Eugene suddenly felt much more comfortable. “So… you wanted to talk?”
All the pain and heartbreak just poured out of Eugene, he struggled not to cry, and he did manage, but it wasn’t easy. Judy did cry, she wept bitterly, and patted the back of his hand in an effort to be supportive. “I didn’t mean to make you cry Judy, I just wanted to ask you what is wrong with me that people treat me this way? What did I or my family ever do to make people hate us so much?
Judy bit her lip, and for once she was completely silent. She just looked at him, her eyes brimming with tears, “I don’t know exactly…” she finally said softly. “You are a wonderful person, and so polite, even when you were little. I wanted you to come and play with Vincent, cause you were such a sweet respectful little boy. Later, I knew I didn’t have to worry about Vincent getting into trouble as long as you two were friends. I mean you always seemed so strong and able to do the right thing no matter what anyone thought. I admired your choices not to dress Goth or Gangsta. You have always been so sensible, and normal seeming. I had no idea you felt such pain, or that you were teased like that. Honestly, though I can understand why it bothers you of course, I am somehow surprised that it does. You seem so strong, and so much like your father.”
Eugene looked up at Judy, who was now standing beside him, with her hand on his shoulder. He didn’t know what he had expected her to say, but this wasn’t what he expected at all. He thought she would reveal some dark family shame, which he was too young to know about. He still suspected there might be something like that, which she was avoiding, but for now he just appreciated the idea that someone at least found him acceptable, and even admirable.
“I appreciate the compliment, and the fact that you at least like me, but I think you must be the only one in town who does. I mean no one at school will have anything to do with me, in town the elderly ladies whisper behind my back. Even at church, I feel like everyone is looking down their noses at me. I just want to know why. What did I do?”
“You haven’t done anything wrong Eugene, and neither has your family.”
“You went to school with my dad. Why did they pick on him?”
“You know about that? What? Did he tell you about it?”
“No, but I kind of figured it out. I mean dad isn’t exactly a good lyer. It is pretty obvious from things he says, that he is leaving stuff out a lot. Also I saw his high school annual, where people wrote in it… Well it is very obvious from that.”
“I don’t know what those other people were thinking, but I will say this; Your father is one of the finest men I have ever known. I’ve always known that, from the time we were kids, and I just wish I had been bold enough to do something about it.”
“Well there probably isn’t much you could have done. I mean if you had spoken up, they would have just made fun of you too.”
Judy suddenly looked very embarrassed, but she continued. “That wasn’t what I meant.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Sure.”
“You can’t tell anyone, especially not your mom and dad.”
Finally she was getting to the awful truth, Eugene thought. “I won’t tell.” He answered eagerly.
“When I was a little girl, your father and I used to play together. He was my best friend, but it was more than that. I had a really huge crush on him. I thought he was the most handsome boy I had ever seen, and I admired his strong character. As I got older though, my mother stopped letting us play together so much, and she said some things that were really uncalled for. At school he was picked on a lot. I wasn’t very popular, but more acceptable than he was. I wanted to say to hell with all of them all, even my mom. I really planned to one day. I…” Judy paused and looked at Eugene, nervously. I loved your father, but when he finally did asked me out… I turned him down. I had heard that Bill was going to ask me to the prom, and I was star struck by the fact that Bill was very popular, and at the time it seemed his family had money. They really didn’t, but kids think those kinds of things, what they had was a lot of debt. Anyway, I am ashamed and very sorry that I turned your father down. I have quite honestly regretted it every day of my life, especially after I married Bill Parks.” There was a note of sarchaism in her voice as she spoke the name of her ex husband. “I really loved your dad more than anything else in the world, and I am not ashamed of that at all, but I am deeply ashamed of the fact that I let other people’s opinions out weigh my own feelings.”
Eugene looked at her completely stunned. This was something he really hadn’t expected. He was just speechless for a moment. Finally he stammered, “But why?… What did your mom say about him?”
Some really stupid things! Very, Very Stupid things that you should not worry about honey!
“Like what?”
Judy’s lip quivered. She sobbed uncontrollably, gasped for breath. She looked devastated and somewhat panicked. She just shook her head no, and continued to concentrate on to try to catch her breath. This time Eugene stood up and put his arm around her. It seemed like the thing to do, since she was obviously crying uncontrollably. Judy looked at Eugene strangely, and he slowly released her, unsure of what to do now. He patted her shoulder gently before letting go. This was so awkward.
Finally she calmed down a little, and he chanced to ask again, “what did your mother say?”
Judy trembled. “It is so silly, I mean they use these nonsense words, and then they describe the craziest little bits of evidence to prove the point. As nearly as I can translate the situation, your great grandmother had some sort of emotional, or maybe mental problem. Your great grandfather drank a lot. It was during prohibition, and it was quite a scandal when he was caught running moonshine. He had a still apparently, though it was never found. After he was gone to prison, your great grandmother let everything go. She didn’t seem to care about anything. She had small children, and they came up really hard. They had no one to help them, and apparently rather than pitch in and help the poor woman, the community decided to just turn up their noses and refuse to associate with her. It was easier I suppose, than actually doing something to help, but it wasn’t right. My mother went on and on about that poor woman’s strange behavior. It was so stupid. I mean of course she was upset, and embarrassed, and of course she couldn’t run that farm adequately, take care of six small children, and keep the house spotless. No wonder she gave up. Even if she were a horrible person, which I am sure she wasn’t, it is hardly your fault, or your dad’s. It is just stupid to even think of that now. Those people are long dead. Your grandfather was a good person, and so was your grandmother. The fact that they still remember that with such importance is just so ignorant.
Do you mean that they are still gossiping about something that happened during the depression?
Basically yes, though they also make a big deal over every little detail of your lives, that goes wrong. When your father lost his job they gossiped about that, and speculated everything from the idea he was an alcoholic, to the possibility that he was embezzling. None of it was true, they were just guessing, but then it was told for the truth, as the gossip grew. When your mother left town for a week to visit your aunt, they gossiped that she had left your dad. When she was pregnant with you they speculated that you were not really your father’s son, but it is certainly obvious that you are. You look exactly like him.” Judy was now shaking again, with so many confused emotions that it was impossible for anyone, least of all 14 year old Eugene to comprehend what she was feeling exactly. She gazed into his eyes, and he was getting a hopelessly mixed signal, that he dared not try to read. Judy leaned forward a little, and there was clearly alcohol on her breath. He felt her warm breath on his cheek, and she started to embrace him, but then she turned suddenly, and walked to the kitchen cabinet. She leaned on it with both hands, and seemed to be trying to collect herself.
I am sorry. I probably shouldn’t have told you any of that, but no one else would, and you wanted to know. That is all I know about it. You should probably go now. You are just so much like your father…
Eugene looked at her with deep concern. “Are you OK Judy? I mean I can stay a little while. maybe we could cheer each other up a little. We don’t have to talk about the past anymore. I just don’t want to leave you like this… all upset I mean.”
Judy smiled softly that is sweet, and you can stay if you want. I just need to calm down. Would you like another cookie?
Judy walked to the sink and poured her drink down the drain. Then she poured a glass of milk for herself, and picked up a cookie.