The Wind Whispers Mary:

Ashleen stayed in my room for the night. We didn’t speak as we got ready for bed. Ashleen sat on my bed as I looked for some spare pajamas for her.

“How can you stand to live like this?” she asked aloud.

“Like what?” I asked with my head in my chest drawer.

“Your parents,” she went on. “I mean why do you live like that with them screaming at each other all of the time?” I paused this time.

“I just do…” I mumbled as if talking to no one in particular.

“I’m so sorry to have brought it up…” Ashleen said, quietly. I turned to her with a smile painted on my face.

“No, no!” I lied. “It’s okay, really!” I don’t think she believed me at all. I could see it in her eyes.

“Hey!” I said, changing the subject. “I have red star pajamas or plain black ones. Which one do you want?”

“The stars look pretty,” she said.

“Okay, here,” I said as I handed her the pajamas. Ashleen took them as she slid off of my bed.

“Is it safe to go in the hall now?” she asked me in a whisper. I walked over to my bedroom and opened it a crack. We both listened closely for any shouting from downstairs.

“You hear anything?” Ashleen whispered. I shook my head as I kept my ear close to the door.

“Uh-uh,” I whispered back. “They might have stopped now.” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that she didn’t look too certain about that claim.

“Look, I’ll stay behind you to keep my ears open, okay?” I asked.

“Alright,” Ashleen whispered. I slowly pushed open my bedroom door and let her out. I followed behind just like I promised. She got dressed in the bathroom as I guarded the door. Nights like this one made me nervous. When my parents weren’t shouting at each other, they were drinking or getting high. Nothing good ever follows when that happens. I knew this all too well. I just didn’t want Ashleen to find out either. It’s bad enough she heard them fighting and smelly booze on daddy. I didn’t want to add onto to the night with more.

Ashleen walked out of the bathroom dressed in my pajamas. I led her back to my room quickly.

“Stay in here while I get dressed for bed, okay?” I instructed her. “In fact, pull the sheets over your head and stay quiet.” Ashleen nodded. I rushed all the way to the bathroom. I have mastered the art of speed dressing. I had to in order to escape the fighting. I had on my bear pajamas on in under a minute. I didn’t worry about my clothes. I could always get those on my way to get breakfast in the morning. I just stashed my clothes under the sink and raced back to my room.

“I’m back now,” I whispered through the crack in the door. Ashleen peeked out from the sheets at me. I walked into the room as she came out of hiding and sat up. She scooted aside to let me on the bed with her.

“Good night Faye,” Ashleen whispered.

“Good night, Ashleen,” I whispered back. We went to sleep after that exchange. In the middle of the night, I opened my eyes and looked around. Ashleen could be mistaken for comatose in my bed as she lied with her head at the foot of my bed. I kid with you not, that girl could sleep through two earthquakes and a hurricane. Ashleen…

I tried to go back to sleep, but it was rather pointless. So, I got out of bed, put sheets over my shoulders, and quietly left my room. I wandered all the way downstairs. A light at the far end of the house caught my attention. Curious, I walked down the hall. I peeked into the cracked den door. I saw daddy sitting at his desk all alone. He seemed to be holding a glass in his hands. I couldn’t really tell what he was doing up this late. I didn’t know about the whole situation either. I couldn’t tell what mama and daddy were going to do next after they got into one of their fights.

I was debating on whether or not to go when daddy looked up and saw me through the crack.

“Faye!” he whispered loudly. “Faye! What are you doing up so late? Couldn’t sleep either?” I slowly walked into the room after he addressed me. Daddy looked so depressed like he normally did after his fights with momma. He tried to hide the full glass of what appeared be of a brown liquid. However, we both knew that it was rather pointless. Most little kids only know one thing about alcohol: it’s bad for you. I on the other hand, knew that it was bad, what it looked, and what it smelled like. (I know a little bit about drugs as well. But, that’s for another time…)

I shook my head. Daddy nodded at me with a sad smile. He took a sip of his glass and set it back down on the desk.

“I couldn’t stand to be in the same room with that woman,” he said as if he was mumbling to himself. “She is a monster after a few drinks.” I didn’t say anything. I have learned to let him lament when he’s drinking. I gave up on trying to understand his sad ramblings. Daddy’s thoughts are always lost in booze. But tonight, his question stirred up something inside of me.

“Daddy,” I spoke up, softly. He looked up from his glass.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he asked. I shuffled my feet in my bear pajamas for a little bit as I looked away.

“Why does Mama hate me so much?” I asked. He looked at me with sober sympathy in his eyes.

“Aw baby,” Daddy said. “She doesn’t hate you…” His voice trailed off in the wave of crickets chirping in the woods outside. Even he didn’t seem to believe his own words back then. I even think Daddy knew that I didn’t believe him either. I watched as let off a small, sad sigh. He turned to me in his chair and patted his lap.

“Come here, Faye,” he said in a low voice. “I will tell you a little bit about your mother.” Despite not liking where this could possibly go, I reluctantly walked over to Daddy and sat down on his lap. He bit his lower lip at first. I could see that he was trying to find the right words to soften, but tell the truth with. His hand tightened around his glass.

“Your mother…” Daddy began to say. He paused as if he was lost in thought. I waited for his explanation. He bit his lip again.

“Your mother is hard to explain,” Daddy said at last. “I can’t figure her out at times myself.”

“So what do you do?” I asked him. Daddy looked down at my lap as if a dog that had just lost its pride.

“Just taken and try to fight back to restore order…” he mumbled so softly that I almost couldn’t hear him.

“Oh…” I said in a matching tone as I looked away. Neither one of spoke for what felt like the longest time. Finally, Daddy perked up a little bit.

“Hey Faye,” he whispered. “I have something to show you.” I looked back over at him.

“What is it?” I asked. He didn’t speak. Instead, Daddy moved aside his drink and reached forward to the cabinet in front of him. He opened the doors and drew out the vinyl player. My eyes seemed to dance as he pulled out an LP and put it on at low volume. The music seemed to cure us of our misery. I looked up at Daddy.

“What’s this?” I whispered. He turned to me with a rare, sober smile on his face.

“‘Shout’ by Isley Brothers in 1959,” he replied. I nodded at that as I took that as one of the many truths of this world.

“It’s nice,” I whispered. Daddy smiled and patted me on the head as the Isley Brothers softly filled the den.

When the song was over, Daddy fell asleep in his chair. I kissed him good tonight on the cheek.

“Good night Daddy,” I whispered in his ear. Then, I slide out of his lap, turned off and put the vinyl player away, and walked back to bed. As I made it back to my room, I happened to look out my window to the ground below. An odd sight caught my eye. I could have sworn I saw the Henderson boy looking up at me from outside that night. Or, at least I thought it was him. I had no idea what he was doing here so close in the early morning hours and why. I still don’t have any clue to this day.

	Jimi Hendrix - the Wind Cries Mary .mp3
	Found at bee mp3 search engine