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   Chapter 2 No.2

Eudora By AaronDennis Characters: 5329

Updated: 2018-01-10 12:02


The hours rolled on and as evening drew near, Patty and Joe went home. Eudora and her grandfather prepared pork chops, potatoes, and a green bean casserole. The casserole was a family recipe, which her grandmother taught her how to make. By the time the table was set, and dinner was ready, Charlie rode home with Larry. They spoke on the porch for a few minutes before going inside.

"So, you're really gonna have dinner with my sister?" Charlie was partly in disbelief.

"Sure thing, man. She seems alright to me. She don't talk much, but a fella' could get used to that, and if she cooks, I'm set for life" Larry was already making plans.

"Just take it slow, okay? Dora's always been a little shy. I need to know she'll be taken care of while I'm gone."

"You always gotta throw that college shit in my face don't ya, Chuck, " Larry snapped.

"Dammit, Larry, this isn't about you. It's about my sister."

"I'll behave. Can we eat?"

They went inside. Charlie wasn't sure if Larry was a good fit for his sister, but she likely wasn't going to meet anyone else. Having Larry as her husband was better than no one. Besides, he thought, it's just dinner and maybe nothing will happen.

Dinner went pretty much as imagined. Most of the conversation was surrounding Charlie's work and what he had planned to do in college. Richard asked Larry what kind of plans he had for the next few years, which Larry shrugged off.

"I'll probably be an electrician like my old man."

I hope you're not like your old man, Richard thought. The last thing I want for Eudora is a wife beater. Then again, Larry had never been violent.

Richard smiled. They ate. Eudora said hello. Eventually Larry came over for dinner on a regular basis. Eudora enjoyed cooking, and when she went to bed that old wall become cleaner and smoother. After a wonderful meal and actually asking Larry how his day went she lay in bed, drifted along that wall, but she was going forwards. She had never gone forwards before.

The wall raced along, and the scratches disappeared. Soon, there was no wall at all. She wasn't used to this. This was different.

She didn't know if this was being Eudora, so she drifted backwards. She found it difficult that night, so she lied face down on the floor. It was a good night, dark and lifeless. That was familiar. She began to scratch at the floor. She found some familiar grooves she had created over the years and let the broken wall come back.

Scratch-Scritch-Scratch-Scritch.

She found the same familiar grooves in the wall. Eventually, it began to break, to crumble. The grooves wore deeper.

Scratch-Scritch-Scratch-Scritch.

It had been a long time since she took it all the way back. You see, there was a reason for the lack of pictures in the house. There was a reason no one spoke of Charlie's and Eudora's parents. There was a reason their grandparents took them away. Eudora took the wall there.

By then, she had drifted along where many pieces of the wall were completely gone. The scratched grooves were deep and blood-soaked. Eudora's parents were simple country people. They got together young, and her mother became pregnant. She died soon after giving birth, and her father never meant to raise her.

She was an accident, after all, and without that damned whore of a wife, there was no one to look after her. Her father decided that once she was old enough to eat on her own, and move around on her own, he was done with her. He figured, he had to work, and who had time to raise an unwanted child?

The solution was simple enough; lock her in the basement and throw some food down there once a day. He was gone most of the time, working, so Eudora screamed, and screamed, and cried, but there were no yields. She learned that sometimes there were things to eat. She learned that when she was tired she had to lie down and sleep. She learned that when she was hungry, and sleep didn't come, that there was a wall to scratch. She didn't usually see it; it was too dark, but sometimes when she got fed, enough light bled through that she saw shades of gray. The wall's gray was most comforting. When it was dark she went to it and scratched it.

It was not long before she'd scratched it so often that the sound grew into something rhythmical. She learned to make the same sounds without scratching at all, and she groaned and grunted.

She found it was melodic. Of course, she didn't understand any of those concepts. Eudora didn't know words. She didn't know her name. She didn't have a name. Sometimes, she heard voices. When there were voices, there was no food. She just scratched and grunted.

That was a bit far to go along the wall, but that was herself. She wasn't supposed to be herself anymore; that was what the older, taller people said. They cleaned her. They taught her words. They taught her how to ask, please, how to answer, thank you. They had a baby boy. His name was Charlie. Her name was Eudora. She was going to go to school, but first they fix her teeth, fix her nails, get her glasses to see good. In a few years' time, and further along the wall, where it wasn't so broken, only a little crumbled, and where the scratched in grooves were less worn, she went to school to learn. That's where she heard the chants, rhythmical, melodic.

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