AllFreeNovel
Share Us
There had been a whole lot of gossip in the Park in those days, most of which came from the three mean old ladies who all lived near each other smack dab in the center of Paradise Gate. Everybody, sooner or later, became a victim of the vicious gossip spewed from the mouths of Agnes Lincoln, Alberta Roughhouse, and Astrid Denali. Those blue-haired monster gab-abouts spun truths and spread vicious lies every chance they got. When I first came to live with Aunt Betty, Agnes Lincoln told everyone that I was most likely not Betty’s niece at all, but her illegitimate child come home to roost. Auntie never gave two figs about what others thought about her, so she let it all blow in the wind. Until one day in the grocery store, Auntie and me heard old Agnes point us out to another old lady and call my pretty Aunt Betty a whore and call me her bastard child.
Auntie never said a word. She just held her head up high, finished her shopping, paid for the groceries, and drove away.
Then, of course, she got home. And that is when the trouble for that mean, old hag Agnes Lincoln began.
My Aunt Betty waited until she saw Agnes Lincoln’s ancient Crown Victoria pull into the sagging carport. Then she put in a call to Robby Lincoln, Agnes’s son, and told him that the old bitch had lost her mind and needed to be committed. And Aunt Betty made that call loud and clear while walking back and forth in front of Agnes Lincoln’s trailer. So loud and clear in fact, that half the residents of Paradise Gate Trailer Park came out of their doors and watched with gleeful interest (nobody much liked Agnes Lincoln or the rest of the blue-haired monster squad). Since Robby had just about had it with his mother in more ways than one, he threatened old Agnes with a competency hearing if she didn’t knock it off. While it wasn’t in Agnes’s mean, poison spewing blood to knock it offcompletely, she left me and Auntie alone after that.
So that’s how I came to learn the difference between what tattling and telling was. Tattling was just plain mean-spirited. But telling was pretty much a needed and defensive action. Aunt Betty had real good reason to tell on Agnes Lincoln.
And using that logic, by my way of thinking I had real good reason to tell on Kid Harding.
When I was done, my Aunt Betty pursed her lips and shook her head. “I’ve known Deke Harding for a long time, Liddy. And it sounds to me like that rotten little apple hasn’t fallen far from the tree.”
“You have?” I was puzzled because as far as I knew Deke Harding was living in town for the first time.
“Sure have.” Aunt Betty told me. “And like I said… Kid is just like his daddy.”
“Maybe it’s ‘cause he don’t have a mamma to tell him right from wrong?” I asked, giving Kid the benefit of the doubt for the very first time ever. Because when I took a minute to think about it, maybe a mamma’s caring might straighten that boy right out. I know Aunt Betty’s love had done that for me.
Aunt Betty chewed on her lip for a minute before answering. Then she turned to me and said, “I think it’s ‘cause he’s had toomanymammas, Liddy. Deke Harding couldn’t keep his hands on just one woman if they were glued to her sides.”
There was a pause when I thought Aunt Betty might be knowing something more about Deke Harding than what she was saying. Then Aunt Betty got that same look in her eyes that she had right before she rained hell down on Agnes Lincoln. I knew that look meant war.
“What do you think Kid Harding hates most in the world?”
“He hates staying after school,” I answered without hesitation. “Hates it. He gets talked to every day for packing up early, and he is always the first one out the door when the bell rings.” Then I added hopefully, “You could call the teacher and have my seat changed.”
“I could but…” Aunt Betty shook her head slightly.
“But you won’t because in this family we do not let other people handle our problems.” I sighed.
“That’s right, Honey bear, we don’t.” Aunt Betty mustered a half-hearted smile. “But, in this case, I might be willing to make an exception. Are you afraid of that boy, Liddy?”
“Me? Afraid of Kid Harding? No, ma’am. I’m not afraid of anybody! Least of all that little sonofabitch!”
“Language, Liddy!”
“I’m sorry. I am just gettingdamn… I meandarnsick of him tormenting me inside out every single day and getting stone-cold away with it.”
“How come he doesn’t get in trouble for pulling your hair?”
“You have to get three checks to stay after school, and he only pulls it twice.”
“And Miss Bonticello hasn’t figured that out?”
“She always favors that boy.” I told her. Then I added in more information for extra ammunition. “I think she might be sweet on his daddy.”
Aunt Betty frowned but did not look in the least surprised about what might be going on between my teacher and Deke Harding.
“What would happen if Kid pulled your hair for a third time?”
“He’d get that third check and have to stay after.” I frowned. “But like I said, he only pulls twice.”
Aunt Betty wrapped my long red curl around her finger. “It feels to me like this hair has been pulled more than twice a day.”
My eyebrows knit together while I pondered this for a moment, then with a sudden understanding, I laughed out loud with glee.
“I love you, Aunt Betty.” I hugged her tight.
