Ch 21 Angel

A small, blonde blue eyed boy chased a moth happily across a sloppy Cajun lakefront. A smaller little girl, with the same hair followed him also chasing the moth. She was wearing a pair of dirty, torn overalls and the boy was wearing a simple but worn out t-shirt. They were around 6 and 7 years old. The little boy caught the moth in his hands and caged it in.

“Lemme see it Jeremiah!” Said the little girl. Jeremiah clenched his fist and then opened it revealed the crushed moth. 

“You crushed it!” She yelled at him and he threw into the lake. 

“Jeremiah!” She pushed him, he started to run and she followed him chasing each other around the basin of the lake. They laughed and giggled as they chased each other playing around they were suddenly catatonic at the drugged voice of a hoarse woman. 

“You kids get in here now!” She stood at the doorway of a beaten up, rusty RV parked right in front of the basin of the lake. She wore a soiled pink robe that couldn’t go down to her ankles, her hair looked beaten and damaged, her voice was threatening and unfriendly.

“Aw momma! But we were just-“ 

“Get in here now! Both of you!” She said as they quickly followed her command. And as they entered the threshold of the RV she grabbed the girls hair and pulled it back. 

“Where the Hell are you’re shoes girl?!” 

“Let her go!” Jeremiah tried to loosen her grip on her hair. 

“Get in there both of you!” She pushed them into the RV and closed the door behind her. The place was cluttered, repellant, and coated with a layer of must. To the left there was a single mattress that lay on the floor. 

“That’s the last pair of shoes you lose! You hear, Chelsea?” 

“Yes momma” responds the little girl. 

“And if I catch either of you outside while I’m taking my nap I’ll put a beatin in both you now don’t forget it” She said as Jeremiah glared at her. 

Jeremiah waited for her to prepare her daily ritual. She would always, right before taking her nap, grab the lasso his dad uses for tying up the plastic bottles , and she would make a noose around her arm and then he would look away as she yelled at them not to look at her. After that she lay on the mattress, and wouldn’t even budge until daddy came home later I the night. 

“Chelsea where did you leave your shoes?” asked Jeremiah. Chelsea shrugged. 

“I’ll go get ‘em. Stay here.” He said as he left the RV. 

Jeremiah returns to the RV with Chelsea’s slippers, he notices Chelsea rummaging through her mother’s things, a suitcase full of inexpensive clothing and jewelry and a box of make-up. 

“Jeremiah, look what I found!” She pulls out the make-up box while Jeremiah notices his mother laying on her back on the mattress.

“Chelsea! You can’t leave momma lying on her back!” He said as he grabbed the nearby sweat stained pillows and propped them behind her back as he turned her to the side.  

Chelsea ignores him and opens up the make-up box. “Jeremiah, look!” She says she pulls out brushes, blushes, mascara, lipsticks and eye shadows. 

Jeremiah sits next to her and inspects the make-up. Chelsea opens up one of the lipsticks and starts to paint on her hands. 

“That’s for your lips Chelsea, I seen momma put it on before, here like this” He takes it from her and puts it on himself. They giggle and laugh as he smears it all over his face. They start to open all the blushes, the powders and the mascaras and start to paint each other’s face, mixing colors and shades, brushing each other’s face with the cheap make-up. 

Their lipstick filled smiles were turned round as the RV door swung open and in trudged a drunken bear of a man with a tank and jeans. His arms were muscular and thick, his hair was receding and his face was concealed with several bruises and bandages. He walked in without noticing them at first. He opened the mini-fridge and grabbed a beer, he opened it and chugged it down. Then he looked at the children. He did a double take as he noticed Jeremiah. His drunk and sloppy manner was suddenly erased.

“Maggie!” he yelled with a tyrant voice that shook Jeremiah and Chelsea. He grabbed Jeremiah tiny arm and swung it around to the mattress on the floor where Maggie was taking her nap. 

“Maggie!” He noticed the syringe by the bed and was enflamed.

“Wake up you stupid bitch!” He attacked her by wringing her neck, Maggie would not respond until she ran out of breath, and her reflexes responded aggressive as she gasped for air. She awoke screaming. Her yells were earsplitting as Chelsea covered her ears.

“Look! Huh, Look at this!” He yanked Jeremiah into view, his sloppy make-up was already smeared from his tears.

“What the Hell is this?! I come home from winning all of my fights and I find my son wearing this shit!” He pulled and Maggie’s hair as she continued to spasm and yell. He released her and she buried her face in the pillows yelling hysterically.  He got up and kicked her, his foot driving into her hip. Jeremiah and Chelsea were both wailing. He grabbed Jeremiah’s little body and held him under his arm as he carried him outside. 

Jeremiah was carried outside into the cold and dark Missouri lakefront. The tears in his eyes mixed in with the mascara and blinded him. His father’s heavy and grunted footsteps were frightening and powerful. At last he reached the basin of the lake and placed Jeremiah over his knee and proceeded to forcefully wash Jeremiah’s face with icy lake water. 

The freezing water pierced his child face as his father’s sausage-like finger rubbed on his face like sand paper. 

“You gon’ learn boy! Huh, you don’t put this shit on! You hear?!” He slaps him over the sounds of his crying.

Jeremiah and Chelsea shared a single torn and soiled blanket that nearly covered both of them. They both sat huddled outside the RV, listening to the incessant rocking of the RV, back and forth in an upbeat fashion. They heard wily noises coming from inside, troubling screams from their momma. They were used to it though it seemed. Chelsea’s head rested on Jeremiah’s shoulder, her stomach cringed and shriveled.

“Jeremiah, I’m hungry” She wailed. 

“I know, me too. But don’t worry, papa won most of his fights today and I heard he’s takin’ us to the market  tomorrow.” He said.

“Really?” She said excitedly. 

“Yep, we gon’ buy lots and lots and lots o’ food!” he held her tight as the wind reinforced itself and blew harder.

Jeremiah stared at the ripe apples stacked beautifully against the peaches, his eyes gravitated to the lemons then the oranges, he stretched out his hand just to get one soft touch in but then quickly withdrew when he saw the patron of the stand.

He looked around for his mother and his sister, nowhere to be found. They were probably lost in the market place, although he knew where his mother was, she would always spend her time in the clothing and make-up stands. He desperately scanned the crowds for Chelsea. He started to quicken his pace through the market place. He finally spotted her at the corner of a trinket stand that sold cheap jewelry and old antique tea sets. She spotted him nd came running to him.

“Jeremiah look what I found!” She said.

“Chelsea don’t go on wonderin’ round like that- what is it?”  Chelsea opened her hand and revealed a dusty pendant in the shape of an angel. Jeremiah was captured by it. it was a silver plated angel with long hair and a large halo. He looked at it carefully. 

“You can have it Jeremiah” She said. 

“where’d you get it?” 

“I found it” She smile and handed it to him. Jeremiah looked back to the jewelry shop and turned around with his sister and quickly walked away. He clasped the pendant in his hand and carefully placed in his pocket making sure there were no holes in them. 

They searched for their mother in all the boutique shops around and failed t find her. Jeremiah held Chelsea’s hand in his and strung her along. They again ended up by the fruit stand. Both of them were clearly starved as they eyed the apples again.  They stood there staring, and salivating their lips until the patron of the store, a slightly pale and chunky woman, noticed them. 

“Would you two like some apples?” She said in a kiddy voice. They both nodded their heads. The woman took two apples from the top of her stack and gave it to them. They both started to grind their teeth into them. The woman seemed pleased until she noticed Jeremiah’s bruised arm. 

“What happened there son? Your arm?” The woman asked. Jeremiah froze, not knowing whether to tell the nice lady who had given them apples what had happened. The lady looked at them quizzically. 

Their mother appeared behind them like clockwork. She had an arm full of plastic shopping bags, her hair was slightly teased and in a bun. 

“Jeremiah, Chelsea let’s go!” She said as she eyed the woman. The children followed her command and quickly walked in front of their mother as the lady followed them with her eyes. 

Jeremiah and Chelsea wandered the bushes near the RV. The warm summer evening was comforting and simple. They walked around bored while they heard the same sounds coming from the RV. 

“Jeremiah lets play hide and seek!”

“No, it’s too dark” Jeremiah looked towards the swampy Bayou behind the RV. They were told to stay away from the marshes and the main road that connected with the lake.  Chelsea’s curiosity tethered her near the landscape of tall weeds and trees that wrapped around the terrain.  Chelsea ran towards it giggling.

“Chelsea! No!” Jeremiah ran towards her but not before she disappeared in the cover of the weeds. A flurry of sharp weeds and roots enveloped him as he tried to run through them following the distinct giggle of his little sister.

“Chelsea come back!” he ran straight listening to the sound of her laughter. The moisture of the ground was seeping into his socks; he was soon running past large trees covered with moss. The ground beneath him slowly became more buoyant and moist. He had gotten tired by the time his socks were soaking wet and filled with dirt. He no longer heard the giggling of his sister. 

“Chelsea!” he yelled as he regained his breath. He peered his head above the weeds to search for her with no luck. He wandered left and right pulling his feet out from the ground as the marshes began to creep. “Chelsea!” he kept yelling. He began to quicken his pace as he grew worried that the ground might have swallowed her up.

“Chelsea!” his voice contained a frail whimper. he continued his search barefoot, withstanding the small pricks and pangs of the mysterious ground.  His pacing contains fragile sobbing and his words were muttered. He stopped again, his throat was now consumed with heartbreak. 

“Chelsea!!!” he screamed at the top of his lungs with tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“Jeremiah?” He heard her soft voice coming from a few paces away, the heaviness in his chest disappeared and his tears ceased as he threw aside some weeds and came upon an opening where Chelsea stood in her dirty white overalls. 

“Why did you ran!?” He yelled at her as he came up and held her close showing that he was worried. Before she could respond he noticed she was staring at something ahead. A piercing multitude of flashing lights was visible over the tall weeds and was in the direction of the RV. 

They walked towards it, like clockwork. 

Jeremiah and Chelsea walked through the bushes surrounding the RV and were assaulted with a flashing of lights and thundering screams from their parents as they saw a minimum of four police cars in front of the RV and several police men surrounding it, a few of which were holding down their father half naked and writhing as the officers hand cuffed him. They heard a racket coming from inside the RV as they saw a hand cuffed Maggie kicking and screaming as some officers dragged her out of the RV. She cursed and spat in the officers face. One officers noticed the children coming out of the bushes and shined a flashlight in their faces. 

“Gillman, get over here!” the man said. The other faceless policeman stood in front of them.

“Call child services, let’s get these kids outta here” it said.  

Jeremiah and Chelsea were submerged into confusion, they didn’t quite understand what was happening or why it was happening. Jeremiah at least, new it was a bad thing, a very bad thing. They stood frozen until one of the officers grabbed Chelsea. Jeremiah stepped into action as he attacked the police officer. 

“Let her go!” he said as Chelsea began to cry. Jeremiah was also restrained but not without a fight. He kicked and writhed to be free but failed as he saw them take them away into a different police car, his cries being drowned out as he was shoved into another. 

Jeremiah stands in front of the Freeman household wearing bright new clothes, his shirt was the whitest white he’d seen. He held a small briefcase in his hand waiting for Dorothy, a large white woman who had taken care of him before the Freeman’s adopted him. She was a social worker, she cleaned him up and cut his nice blond hair and flipped it to the side. Jeremiah stood somberly and defiant, his face gave the impression of boredom and disgust. They stood in front of a large two story house with a joyous white picket fence decorated with ivy. 

A man and a woman came out of the house to greet them as Dorothy closed the trunk of the car carrying another briefcase. Jeremiah didn’t see them until they open the fence. He glared at them tentatively. 

“Ah, Mr. an Mrs. Freeman, it’s a pleasure” said Dorothy as she extended her hand.

“Likewise” said Mr. Freeman as he looked at Jeremiah. 

“Hello Jeremiah. How are you?” Said Mrs. Freeman as she knelt down to his level. Jeremiah was unamused. He’d seen them before many times at Dorothy’s house. They’d taken an interest in him because of his striking blond hair that resembled Mr. Freeman’s. He loathed them. 

“Good” said Jeremiah. 

“Alright Jeremiah, you wanna come inside?” asked Mr. Freeman. Jeremiah nodded. 

The inside of the house was even more lavish and pompous than the outside. There were fixtures and ornaments and glass figurines that decorated every orifice of the living room. There was a glass cabinet full of china, a long and elegant mirror on the wall above the satin sofa, a pristine white carpet, and elegantly placed family photos framed alongside. 

Jeremiah placed one foot in the room before he was stopped.

“Jeremiah. We don’t set foot in that room, okay.” Said Mrs. Freeman. Jeremiah took a few steps back and walked back towards the entrance where the base of the stairs sat. 

“Well Jeremiah, It’s best if I leave you here with your new parents” Said Dorothy as she knelt down to hug him. “They’ll love you lots, okay, you be good you hear?” She said as he nodded. 

“Goodbye Ms. Dorothy” they said as they closed the door behind her. Jeremiah’s heart was racing, he felt a sudden sadness as he saw Dorothy leave. 

“Alright Jeremiah, you wanna go take a look at your room?” Said Mr. Freeman. Jeremiah nodded.

After galloping up the stairs, the hallway to the left contained several framed artworks of people with large white feather wings he looked at them closely and recognized their distinct zeal. He touched the rim of his pocket and seeped his hand inside. He stood staring at the picture of a beautiful angel watching over two children; a boy and a girl. The angel was above them guarding over them. Jeremiah was so entranced that they noticed. 

“You like angels?” said Mr. Freeman. Jeremiah nodded his head enthusiastically as he pulled out the pendant from his pocket and showed it to him. 

“That’s beautiful Jeremiah” He said. Jeremiah suddenly felt a gaping coldness in his chest at seeing the pendant that his little sister gave him. He looked back at the picture, his eyes swelling with water, as he put the pendant back in the pocket. 

“She’s pretty” Said Jeremiah as he pointed to the angel.

“Did you know Jeremiah that angels are not girls?” He said. Jeremiah looked at him in disbelief as he regarded the picture again and clearly saw a female angel. 

“They just paint them like that. Well, you’ll learn for yourself once you start school at Sacred Trinity”  he said as he pulled Jeremiah away from the picture.

The heat of the season kept Jeremiah inside the house all summer. By August he was mostly familiar with his new house for the exception of the two living rooms he was forbidden to go into. But there was another he had not yet entered. Jeremiah wondered sloppily around the house, his new parents out of the house and left him alone, he would often stare at the pictures of the angels in the hallway and would imagine himself having angel wings and fly around the house. He ran up and down the stairs playing and glancing at the pictures to keep afloat. He would have so much fun he thought he was with Chelsea. And all of a sudden he stopped. He missed her terribly, he’d often find himself sobbing at night wanting to see her again and whenever he would grab his angel pendant. His pace slowed and seemed sluggish as if some ominous force came in and sucked all the happiness from him. He walked toward his room noticing his parent’s room door wide open. He’d never been in there before, he immediately got curious and rushed to go inside. The room was adequately decorated, a maroon and white color combination that encompassed the entire room, Jeremiah immediately noticed the large  cross above the bed. 

He kept poking around touching the lace around the bed and grasping several decorations on the bedside table. he found his way to the bureau with a large modern mirror. Jeremiah looked out the door to check if anyone was coming and he started opening the drawers. he found clean socks in one, unfolded boxer briefs in one and several bras in another. The last drawer he opened contained a large metallic box; he quickly opened and was overjoyed to find what was inside. 

Jeremiah plastered the make-up he found in the box on his face, he found detail brushes and large powder brushes he used to outline his face, he used every color of blush and every shade of lipstick to cover his tiny mouth. He was imagining Chelsea doing it, he was imagining her fascinating squeal as she would mess up on the lip stick and he would end up with large red lips. Jeremiah kept on powdering, he was lost, taken back into the trash ridden and vomit infested trailer and imagined Chelsea stacking the cheap make-up on his face, the two of them having fun and laughing. 

Like a thundering crash, Jeremiah was shaken and surprised as Mr. and Mrs. Freeman stood at the bedroom door. 

“Jeremiah, what are you doing?!” said Mr. Freeman. Jeremiah was shaken and scared, his voice was muted. Mr. Freeman was infuriated he quickly came down on Jeremiah swiftly and struck the make-up box away from him. 

“Huh? What the Hell are you doing?! Tell me! This is not for little boys you hear!” he said as Mrs. Freeman tried to calm him down.

“No! He has to learn! Ok. This is for girls!” Jeremiah started to cry desperately as Mr. Freeman grabbed him by his hair and dragged him out of the bedroom as Jeremiah gave deafening screeches.

He dragged him into the bathroom, kicking and screaming he picked Jeremiah up and tossed him into the bathtub and grabbed the back of his head with one hand and turned on the shower with the other. Jeremiah’s screams were drowned out as the uncomfortably hot water poured down on his face and head. Mr. Freeman rubbed his hand on his face to wash off the make-up, his hands creating another illusion, this one was frightening and terrible he envisioned his brute father and the vast lake in front of him. Mr. Freeman continued to rub off the make-up vigorously, he was enraged, and the cries of the boy were muted to him. His uncontrollable anger was borderline disgust; he didn’t stop until Jeremiah was free of make-up and afterwards proceeded to soak Jeremiah with the shower keeping him down with one hand and completely soaking him with his clothes on.

“Shhhhh, Jeremiah let it wash it away, let it cleanse you, okay” he said calmly as Jeremiah struggled to breathe. Finally, Jeremiah gave up struggling and lied down on the tub as Mr. Freeman kept cleansing him.