The Unknown Note - Elizabeth

It was the year 1941. I was 5 years old at the time. My mother was a basket case. She was always cryin’, and blubberin’. My daddy left us. I was sad at first but after 5 years I was over it. We probably spent a total of a years salary of watiressin’ on tissues alone. That’s including one’s for earplugs. I was thinking of moving out on my own, but I wasn’t even aloud to cross the street. The closest I’d get to running away would be to Mel’s Dime Dinner Palace. Probably you can guess how much dinner was.
I can remember on night in particular. Momma had just come home form work. She was covered in water and mud. She wasn’t too happy. She said that she fell in the mud getting out of the can. It was raining cats and dogs. She got her shower and was staring in crying again. Then the phone rang. This was already odd because our phone never rings. Momma answered. I sat and watched holding my breath and clutching on to my teddy with all of my might. The phone fell from Momma’s hands as she began to cry. It wasn’t her usual cry this was grim.
The lights flickered. The storm had become worse. Momma just stood there. I wanted to comfort her; I wanted to know what happened. The lights went out, I could only hear the winds whistling through the town, tree branches hitting our windows. The tornado sirens began to blare. Momma was seated now, but we just sat there, we didn’t make a sound or dare to move. We didn’t take safely from the frightening noise of the sirens. My heart was pounding and the feeling of being frightened grew worse.
The lights flickered once more before coming on. I looked over to Momma. She sat with her head buried in her hands I grew up the courage to ask Momma what was wrong. That’s when I heard the news.
I no longer had a father. A fire had taken over his Birmingham home. He didn’t make it out. By the time the firefighters came the house was nothing but flaming debris. There wasn’t even enough left to try to figure out what caused the horrific tragedy. The firefighter named Louis found my father lying outside of the house. My father named Joseph didn’t die from the fire.
I was more than frightened I don’t even have the words to express the emotions I was feeling. I soon grew shocked. Momma stood up from her state of depression she looked at me and smiled. Louis delivered more news after saying that my father wasn’t killed in the fire. There was a gunshot wound found in his chest. Lying loosely in my father’s hand was a folded piece of paper.
My mother continued to stare and smile. As tears rolled down my cheek I noticed the time on the clock. It read 3:00 (a.m) It had only been 3 hours since my mother returned from work. Which would make it Midnight. Momma usually came home from work around 10:00 pm. She was two hours late. I noticed something on her apron that was lying over a clothes rack, I couldn’t tell what it was it looked like something had been splattered, but I didn’t think anything of it.
Momma said that we should try to get some sleep. She went to bed and I acted as if I was doing the same. After about an hour I got out of my bed and checked in on my Momma. She was sleeping like a baby with rollers in her hair. I grabbed my coat and my pink goulashes and snuck out the door. I wasn’t supposed to leave but I crossed two streets and turned right. I kept going straight. It wasn’t the most pleasant street. You could hear sirens going at all times. Bums were sitting on their stoops talking out of their drunken minds. Some asked me for some money, I tried to just tune them out and continue walking. The smell reeked of sewage and un-bathed people. I felt bad and couldn’t help but wonder what these people did to have the live like this. Maybe they did it to themselves. I walked straight and came to the Birmingham Street. I could see caution tape surrounding a house. I took a deep breath. I broke out in a dripping swear. I crossed the street. I guess I wasn’t paying close attention, and I see headlights, coming right my way.
I slightly open my eyes, close them, and open them once more. I take a look to my right I see machines all beeping, flashing or doing something. I thought to myself "when did Momma get that? And what for?" I look straight ahead as I see a door wide open with nurses frantically running back and forth in their blue dresses, white hats, hair in tight bun, and white tights, with white shoes. They are all carrying some sort of clipboard with what seems to be a keeper of important information.
"Ruth, honey." I hear a warm voice and a soft touch on my face; Momma was in a chair to the left of me, with tears streaming from her green eyes down her cheek. Her hair was a mess; she was wearing her Thursday sundress. A doctor entered my room. (Which by this time I had come to the realization that I wasn’t at home.) The doctor’s name was Dr. Michael he was going bald, he had bushy eyebrows, ears that stook out like thorns on a rose, and he was about 6 foot tall. He kind of flashed a half smile barely showing his pearly white teeth. He asked me how I was felling. I wasn’t really sure what to rely with considering I didn’t know what I felt like. He proceeded to continue examining his information.
Dr. Michael pulled out a tool, a metal bar with a triangle shape brown rock at the end. He mentioned that it might hurt. I layed in the hospital bed in distress and agony, anticipating the pain I would soon encounter. He took his tool and tapped it on my right knee, nothing happened. Momma let out a whimper. I couldn’t understand what was going on before my eyes I couldn’t feel a thing. Dr. Michael then tapped my left leg, once again nothing happened. Momma turned away. Dr, Michael took his clipboard of information and began to write.
"Momma?’ I whimpered.
"Yes, sweetie." She replied.
"What’s going on?" I asked.
"Well, yo…." "You were in a car accident." Interrupted Dr. Michael.
"I don’t drive do I?"
"No, you don’t drive, you were hit by a car."
The confusion over whelmed my emotions. My heart sank, I still didn’t understand why I was in the hospital, well I know why, and I just didn’t understand how it could happen. "Well I have some unfortunate news." Dr. Michael began.
Momma sighed in agony. She closed her eyes and anticipated the frightening news. I wanted to cry, but I didn’t know how.
"When you were hit by the car the impact fractured your hipbone, and crushed your right leg, you are paralyzed from the waist down." Dr. Michael regretfully reported.
"Oh…. dear!" Momma whimpered.
I was in the state of shock. Paralyzed? What did I do to deserve this? Then it all hit me. I was going to my father’s house. I wanted to see the nothing that was left behind from the father. I snuck out of the house I now began to cry.
I must have drifted off to sleep because once more I opened my eyes to Momma. She just stared at me, for what seemed like forever.
"Why?" Momma began "Why did you run away, what were you thinking?" Momma’s voice began to raise and become louder.
"I just, I just wanted to see dad one last time." I regretfully replied.
"Honey, they took him already…"
"I just had to go." I interrupted.
Momma’s face was a white as a ghost. She then told me that there was a folded piece of paper that was in my father’s hands, which rang a bell in my head because I remember Firefighter Louis telling me that. She then proceeded to tell me what it was. It was a note. A note to me. She read it aloud:
My dearest Rudy,
I love you and I always will. Forgive for what I have done.
Love Always,
Your Dad
A tear rolled from my mother’s glossy eyes. I had a lump in my throat. And once again I was confused. I was torn; I didn’t know what to do. A policeman entered the hospital room.
" Miss Judy??"
Momma stood and replied with a soft I am Miss Judy Lee.
The Police officer wanted to know if he could ask her a few questions. Momma and the Police officer named Officer Patrick went out to the hallway. Momma came back in after about 20 minutes crying (again) she came over and sat down at the left side of my bed.
"Honey (sniffle) I have to go away for a while, I’ll be back."
"Why? Where are you going?"
"Well, you will probably hate me, I, well I had something to do with your father’s death. I caused the fire, and I drove by to see it, and he was running so I shot him."
"Then who wrote the note?"
"I don’t know" "Good bye my dear, I’ll be seeing you"
Officer Patrick re-entered the room, he hand cuffed Momma. I was furious. I wanted to get up, but I couldn’t. Momma shouted that she loved me. I don’t love her.
It was a struggle for the next 2 weeks. I had to learn how to use a wheel chair. I am in foster care now. I have been to a few homes, but they didn’t want me. Nobody liked me. I always thought I was likable, but I guess not. It isn’t too bad here. Wait… Oh my goodness a family is here! I have to go try and get them to take me home!!