Open Writing

After Phyllis graduated from high school at eighteen, she fell in love with and married Bill Vaughn. Phyllis was so happy on her wedding day and beautiful in the dress I made for her that we did not foresee the heartbreak ahead of her. Bill would break her heart by becoming an alcoholic, cheating on her, and abandoning her and their two children, Clint, and Kammy.

Perhaps as a natural storyteller Reita had learned the value of colorful exaggeration, or perhaps her life really was more dramatic than most—either way, I enjoyed her interpretation of the things that she experienced.

Reita was a natural caregiver so it was no surprise when she chose a husband whom she could nurture and guide. Just as Phyllis had, she married at eighteen. Don Moreland, possessed juvenile tendencies that attracted her but were also an aggravation—not unlike her own father. Don was an avid sports fan who loved kids and dogs. He was also prone to accidents and Reita would often warn, "Don, stop bottle-assin' around, before you hurt yourself or someone else!" His infatuation with sports irritated Reita, especially when he watched ball games instead of making repairs around the house. Reita and Don would never have children.

Don's neglect in repairing their broken coal furnace resulted in a disaster that only Reita could turn into comedy-drama. At the time, Don was working at a dairy for a blind man living with his elderly parents, who had provided the small house as part of Don's job. The blind man was stingy and reluctant to spend money on repairs. In the middle of the night Reita and Don were awakened by smoke and coal dust as dense as Mt. Vesuvius ash. The dirty black cloud from the faulty furnace billowed throughout their house.

That morning when I went by their house to drop the boys off I was startled at the sight of my sister. Her eyes were red and her nose was running as she stood in the doorway with yellow rubber cleaning gloves and a grimy rag. Before I could say a word she launched into an angry tirade.

"I woke up in the middle of the night coughin' and gaspin'. I was afraid I was gonna strangle to death!" She rattled on stopping briefly to hack and cough. "It was black as pitch and I had to pound on Don to wake 'em up. We were covered in dust and soot! All I could see were the whites of his eyes and the imprint of our bodies on the sheets!" She bent forward, coughing. "If only he had fixed that damned furnace like he was supposed to, I wouldn't have to work like a slave to clean this oily crap off everything."

She took a deep gulp of the fresh morning air and continued. "As if that's not enough," she sputtered, "Don couldn't fix the damned furnace and our stingy landlord wouldn't call anyone to fix it for us. You know he's blind as a bat but that didn't stop 'em from tryin' to fix it himself." She cocked her head, pulled her lips into a grimace and batted her red eyes. "So what happened?" She asked, as if I would have any more idea than the Holstein cow that stood staring at us over the fence. Not waiting for nor expecting an answer she continued, "The blind bastard stuck his fingers into the fan blades and cut two of'em off!" Her face was void of sympathy. "Now Don's gone to take him to the hospital and I'm left to clean up this mess! How's that for a night from hell?"

**

To buy a copy of Bertie's wonderful book please visit
http://www.amazon.com/Born-Rusty-Spoon-Artists-Memoir/dp/1935514660/ref=sr_1_fkmr0_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1282226141&sr=1-1-fkmr0

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