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“Catching Illness” - Josh Depew Sundays were the worst days. All week I was afraid of Sunday. And when Sunday was finally over, I started being afraid of the next one. Sundays were the days that our dad got us the hardest. He had an old horse whip, I’m not sure where he got it. He said he didn’t like to use it, but it was the only way to keep us boys in line. On Sunday, staying in line was all about going to church, eating dinner, and reading the bible and nothing else. And there was something about Sunday, the way he would take us out back. I think he did it because he had to. Whenever he’d grab one of us in a rage and take us out back my mom would yell out, “Not too hard, Henry!” and he wouldn’t answer. I remember always hearing her voice right before the back screen door slammed. The day I turned eight we had a birthday cake that my mom made. It had white frosting with my name in purple. My mom set us all down to supper early that day and we all ate quickly so we could get to the cake in time. Then mom turned off the lights and brought out the cake with eight little candles and they sang “Happy Birthday”. Mom turned on the lights again when I blew out the candles and said, “happy birthday honey” and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Then we all had to eat quickly. We each had one piece of the cake and then mom went to put the cake in the refrigerator before dad got back home. Dad got mad when he came back that we ate without him and he took me out in the cold snow and beat me hard. That was the first time I remember bleeding. I remember feeling a little tickle running down my shoulder like honey and wondering what it was. I tried to reach back and feel it but my hand got whipped and then my hand started bleeding and I knew. Later that night dad threw the leftover cake out the back door when he found it
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and then he gave me my birthday present--a BB gun. He sat me down on the saggy old red couch and told me a story about how his dad gave him a BB gun when he was a kid and told him to go shoot the starlings. But instead of shooting starlings he went out and shot some goldfinches on the wire. So his dad wouldn’t let him eat at the table anymore and told him to go hunt for his own food now he had a gun. I got the idea that now I had this gun myself I might have to hunt my own food as well, so I always kept the gun in a safe place just in case. Next day after school I went out to see if the cake was still there and it was, but now it was covered in ants. Sometimes dad would beat one of us boys and sometimes he wouldn’t take anyone. He’d just holler at us and mom. He’d holler about all the things that were done wrong in this family. He’d yell about the mess in the house and about how bad the food was and about all the garbage we watched on television. He’d yell at me about talking back to my mom and only serving myself all day. Then I’d feel like I was doing everything wrong and I could never do anything right. He was so loud and red and I just knew that he could knock me down at any second. And then he’d turn on mom and holler at her and scare her into a corner crying. I was so afraid that I swore inside that I’d never do anything wrong again. Then I’d go into my room and sometimes try to hit myself because he was taking it out on mom when it was all my fault. We went to the kind of Church that teaches predestination. Some people were going to heaven and some people were going to hell and there was nothing you could do about it. There was no way to know, really, but really, you knew. Dad knew he was predestined for heaven. And so did the pastor and all the other elders of the parish--they all knew. How could they be pastor and elders if they weren’t predestined for heaven? Well I believed it with all my heart and I was also sure that I was going to hell, especially when dad yelled at me. Sometimes I thought about this fact, at night, that I was going to hell. I would put
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my face into my pillow and cry quietly. I would let my face get all soaked with me going to hell. It wasn’t fair. I wondered why some people got to go to heaven and me not. I imagined myself falling down a deep tunnel and the circle of light moving further and further away. I imagined being away from everyone forever. I saw my dad and the other elders and some of the other kids from the church all together in heaven laughing about how I hadn’t made it and then forgetting about me. Sometimes I told myself that I didn’t know for certain I was going to hell--no one knew. How could I know? But then my brain kicked those thoughts out. Sometimes dad would kick them out instead. Afterwards I always felt the worst, after a beating, I always felt the dirtiest. I would always run into my room and put my face down in the pillow and cover my ears. I had to lie face down because my back hurt but it also meant I didn’t see the room around me. It was a tradition and I didn’t even think about anymore. Our dad wanted to make sure that we had short hair all the time. I wanted to grow it out, but he brought in the electric buzzer and went to town so we didn’t have a chance. He cut it nice and short so everything was there to see. Everyone saw that little bald spot on my forehead where I had fallen off the bed when I was too young to remember. Everyone saw the bumpy way that my head was shaped and I didn’t like it at all. No one else had to show off their heads, just us. Every time he came in with the buzzer I’d yell out “Not so short!” and he wouldn’t answer. Cutting was always a quiet time for him. He let the buzzer talk for him. So the three of us always had short hair. We were three skinny boys with buzz cuts, and we looked like Jews out of a concentration camp. My dad told us about the Jews in the war. One time he showed a picture of some Jews who got out of a concentration camp after it was over and told us we were lucky we didn’t look like that. We were lucky he brought home food every day and we didn’t get rounded up by any secret police. Mom told him to put the pictures away. Sometimes when he was very calm and tired I asked him about the Jews in the
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war. He didn’t answer those questions though. He never seemed to answer any questions. He only told us things when he felt like it. When he talked about being in the war, he always talked about the drills and the drill sergeant. He talked about how they had to obey orders and keep their hair cut and not have tattoos or they’d be disciplined. And he told how if they tried to be a coward and run in the fighting their own sergeant would order them shot right then. Because you can’t have cowards in with the real men. Whenever he told us things, there was a lesson. When he told us about the soldiers, he wanted us to be like soldiers, I think. He’d say that we could learn a thing or two from the army and I think he planned for us all to join when we grew up. At least me and Dan. He probably wouldn’t bother with my brother Mike. Mike was a big bookworm, the biggest of all of us. He would spend all his money on books and he would smuggle them into his room and hide them under the mattress. Sometimes he’d buy special little books and read them inside of his bible so dad wouldn’t know. He made me swear never to tell. I’m not sure if dad ever found out about the special little books, but one day he found Mike’s stash under the mattress and he threw them all outside on the street. My brother Mike wanted to go out and get them but he was too afraid dad would see him. So he let them stay there until they got picked up and thrown away. I’m not sure why dad threw away all Mike’s books. They weren’t dirty magazines or anything. They were just detective stories and superhero comics. I never tried reading the books, but sometimes I would look at the superhero comics. Then I would wish that I had some of the powers like flying or super-strength. If I had super-strength, the next time my dad took me out to beat me I would just knock him down and run away. Sometimes I’d just sit for a long time imagining what I would do if I had superpowers. I would never get beat again. And I’d show what I could do to a girl I liked at school and she’d be so impressed she’d fall for me in a second. I’d protect my brothers when dad was gonna beat them and I’d protect Mike when the other kids at
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school were stealing his lunch and throwing it in the toilet. Sometimes I’d get so caught up in it I’d forget I was imagining it. Then I would open my eyes and see the old brown wallpaper on the wall and realize that I was just dreaming. Sometimes I’d just start crying, and I’d lie down on my bed and put my head in the pillow and cry into that. Sometimes dad would just go on a rampage. And there was nothing we could do. When he went on a rampage, mom would usually go into our bedroom to hide. He’d get set off by something he saw on the TV and he’d throw it down the steps and throw some other things down the steps for good measure. Or he’d get set off at something we were eating and he’d smash the plate in the sink. He never hit mom, not that I know, but she was scared. She would walk out when he was looking the other way and go into our bedroom and hide behind the bed. She’d just lie there on the floor in between the wall and the bed in that little space. Maybe she thought he didn’t know it was there and he wouldn’t find her. She just hid in that corner and cried and whenever I saw that I wanted to have superpowers more than anything. I wanted to use them to hurt dad really bad. I wanted to hit him in the sack so hard that he couldn’t walk again. But I couldn’t do any of that. It was best that I run outside and knock on the Mccluster's door. They were two kindly old people and if they were at home, they’d let me come in and watch TV. Mom didn’t talk much when dad was around. That thought came to me one day. I don't remember her even talking right to him around us kids. I wonder if she ever talked to him when they were alone. Well, one day, when the wood burner was on and we were all sitting in the living room, mom was crying and I didn't know why because dad was just sitting across the room, reading a newspaper. She kept looking at him and I don't know what it was her face was doing then. It was something I'd never seen before. Once she told me that she loved dad. I thought
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maybe it was love on her face, and that scared me. I thought she loved him so much it hurt. Then she walked out of the room and dad looked up and followed her. I couldn't help it when I saw that. I followed them and listened under the door. And I heard my mom say "it's getting bigger Henry." I knew she was crying. "Feel it please!" I don't think dad would feel it and he wouldn’t say anything. "Please. Please!" When I heard that I got too scared and snuck away on tip-toes. The idea of something getting bigger scared me too. At first I thought mom was gonna have another baby and it was getting bigger. And I thought we didn't need another brother. But I watched mom for a long time, and I didn't see her stomach change. But mom didn't get happy about this, it seemed like she just got worse. And dad didn't come home some nights, which always made me and Mike happy. Mom would let us watch TV and eat TV dinners on those nights. I was always excited when that happened, but not quite as much when I looked over at mom's face. She was just sitting there in that TV light and when I looked over she wasn’t watching the TV, she was watching us. I don't think Mike or Dan knew anything was happening, they hadn't heard mom asking dad to feel the growing thing. And I didn’t know what was happening, but I knew it was something. Mom was acting different. Sometimes she would be happy when it was just her and us boys at home, but not these days. I learned not to talk to her or ask her questions because she would just start to cry. I’d ask why she was crying and she’d just wipe her eyes and lie that she wasn’t. Then one day she made us dinner--chicken, mashed potatoes, corn, and everything. She set the table, but before we sat down she told us “Boys, I’ve gotta leave.” And she walked out of the house. Dad wasn’t home yet so there was no car to drive. So she just went off down the road. Dan and I watched her go from the front door, but Mike ran out after her and started crying. He asked her where she was going and kept telling her to come back, but she just told him to go back inside. He kept following her and crying for awhile, but it was getting cold and dark and he got scared
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and came back into the house. Dad got back soon and asked where mom was. We told him we didn’t know so he went berserk and I think we all started crying then. He took Dan out back and started beating him and then he was about to beat me when he changed his mind and ran out to the truck and drove off. We were all scared that night so we stayed in our room with the light on. Mike tried to read some but then couldn’t. We didn’t talk much, but we looked out the window here and there to see if dad was back, but he didn’t come back that night. Next morning we were too tired and scared to go to the bus stop so instead we went next door to the Mcclusters and Mrs. Mccluster let us in. She asked what we was doing there during schooltime and I told her our mom and dad left. Then she got serious and turned off the radio and told us to sit down at the table and she’d make us breakfast. Then she went out of the room and made a phone call and I tried to hear what she was saying but I was too scared to leave the table. We stayed at the Mcclusters for a few days and mostly watched TV. We still didn’t know what happened. We had to go back and get our clothes and things from our house and not long after we brought them back, I saw dad come driving in and go in the house, probably looking for us. He came out pretty soon and drove off. I hoped that he didn’t know where we’d gone. Then on Friday, Mrs. Mccluster told us that our mom was at the Davis Memorial Hospital in Elkins, and she was gonna take us to see her. So we all got in the back of the pickup and Mr. Mccluster drove. On the way there she told us that our mom was really sick. She had an illness called cancer. The doctors were doing their best, but cancer was a really serious disease. Mike was sitting beside me and his face went all white when he heard “cancer”. He slid down in his seat a little and looked up out the window. I thought he was going to throw up. I asked if cancer was a catching illness and Mrs. Mccluster said no it wasn’t. Mike
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was still looking pretty bad, his face was so white and I got a little afraid for him but I couldn’t do anything to help. It seemed like a really long ride to the hospital, and I think I fell asleep once or twice, but eventually we got there and all followed Mrs. Mccluster in. Mr. Mccluster stayed in the truck. We went into the hospital and then we had to wait for awhile in a white room with gray chairs. I was trying to imagine what mom would look like. I thought she’d probably have big boils on her skin and I started getting afraid to see her. Then a nurse came and brought us down a hallway and into a room. We all went in really quiet because there were a lot of people lying in beds and sleeping. One of them was snoring and another man in the back was crying, I think. The nurse pulled back a curtain and there was mom, lying on the bed under a lot of blankets. Her skin was whiter than ever and clammy and her head was facing away from us on the pillow. I looked around to see if dad was in the room anywhere, but he wasn’t. Then the nurse went over and touched mom on the cheek and said “Dorthy, you have visitors.” Mom looked over and saw us and she smiled. Dan and Mike ran over and gave mom a hug, but I couldn’t move. My stomach was all clenched up and I just stood there. Mrs. Mccluster put her hand on my back and gave me a little shove and I took a few steps closer. My mom said “I’m sorry I left you boys. I’m so sorry.” Mike said “It’s okay mom.” He was crying again but his face was all red now instead of white. Dan didn’t say anything. He just stood there and held mom’s hand. Mom looked over at me and said “I just had to come here so the doctors can make sure I get better, okay?” It was a relief when I heard she was getting better. I still wouldn’t give her a hug, though. I was too afraid to go over there. Maybe I didn’t quite believe Mrs. Mccluster when she said cancer wasn’t catching. Mom said thank you to Mrs. Mccluster and whispered something in her ear and then we all went back to the Mcclusters’ house. That night she made us all apple cobbler
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to cheer us up a little. Then the doorbell rang and it was dad. We were all a little scared and didn’t leave the dinner table. He’d come over to get us I think, but Mrs. Mccluster told him we were staying here. So dad just left. But that night I looked out the window and saw our house. The light was on so I knew dad was over there. I was scared he would come through the window and pull us all out of our sleeping bags. I couldn’t sleep so I walked out of bed and found Mr. and Mrs. Mccluster. They were at the kitchen table and Mrs. Mccluster was crying. She wiped her tears off when she saw me come in and said “hey honey, what’re you doing up?” I asked “Is mom getting better yet?” She said, “We’ll see honey.” Mr. Mccluster just nodded at me. So I went back into our room. I guess I woke up Mike and Dan because they were both sitting up, watching me. I couldn’t see their faces much but I could tell Mike was scared and he asked “is mom okay?” I just shrugged. Dan said “the doctors are making her better.” I thought so too when I saw her in the hospital, but when Dan said it now in the dark, I wasn’t sure anymore. The next day the police came and made us go back with Dad. Mr. and Mrs. Mccluster tried to stop them but they wouldn’t listen. Dad was very quiet while the police were there. When they left, he took me out back and he beat me so hard I started seeing stars. I remember his breathing swinging the whip. It was hard and he was panting out foam like a dog. It was a new kind of beating, like he really wanted to kill me this time. Eventually he got tired and went back inside. I just stood there, feeling dizzy, and I couldn’t move for a long time. He didn’t even talk to us about lessons or the Bible or anything after that. We had to go to school the next day and it seemed like no one noticed we’d been gone. When we
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came back home dad wasn’t there, so we took some bread and cheese and apples and tomatoes from the kitchen and hid in our room. We found out that mom was dead eventually, but not from dad. Two ladies that said they were mom’s cousins knocked on the door one day when dad was gone and took some of her clothes. Then they told us that she was dead, didn’t we know? I didn’t know what to do then. Mom felt so far away already and it didn’t feel any different at first, hearing she was dead. Mike started crying and the cousins tried to comfort him. I just turned around and went to my room. I put my face down in the pillow but couldn’t cry so I just lay there breathing in the sweat. After awhile one of the cousins came in and tapped me on the shoulder and said “come on honey, let’s go”. We all got in their car and stayed with some relatives for a few days. They were always very quiet around us. We stayed together in a living room with Mike and me in sleeping bags and Dan on the couch. Then we went to the funeral. We went with the cousins, but we saw dad there. Some relatives spoke and the cousins spoke but he didn’t. He was wearing a black suit and his hair was combed. I was standing near the back and I couldn’t see anything while people were talking, but I saw that there was a little coffin up front. I made sure to look away from it. I didn’t want to see mom. I felt like she might remember that I wouldn’t give her a hug when she had cancer. When everyone stood up to sing I stayed sitting. I looked up toward the front of the church and all I saw was those black backs facing me. Mike and Dan were standing up. Dan was singing and Mike was still crying and trying to sing. I looked away from them. All I wanted was to run far away and never see any of them again.