The Last Cotillion

Chapter 5

Thirteen and a half years of life had passed for Beatrice living on the farm in southern Oklahoma. Since the death of her mother, the disappearance of Aaron, and Leroy going to prison, her life had been solitary with exception to the minimal time spent with her dad. She was thankful every day for small favors from the heavens, but mostly for the limited interaction with her father. She didn't ask for anything from Edgar, knowing it would cause unnecessary rage leading to a heated battle. Christmas and birthdays were events celebrated by other people, holidays non-existent in her house. She wasn't exactly sure when she had been born, there was no birth certificate or records to review, only bits of information garnered from her father when he spoke to someone visiting the farm. A bright spot in her day to day was when, on occasion, the Carter County Sheriff would stop to visit. Beatrice noted the pattern to his visits, he always managed to come around when Edgar wasn't home. She assumed the Sheriff didn't want to be near her father any more than she did. The Sherif had always been a friendly man to her, he was very handsome and had a kind heart. He never asked her for anything, just sat and talked. Beatrice vividly remembered the young deputy and his wife who cleaned her up after her momma died. The previous Sheriff disappeared around that same time leaving this man in control of the county where she lived. She felt she could trust him no matter what, although she always wondered how he knew Aaron and never could quite discern how he knew where she lived. In her mind, the little farm was so far removed from the road and hidden by the trees, only people who had business with Edgar knew where the farm was located.

On his visits, the Sheriff would bring books and paper to Beatrice hoping to promote a desire in her for learning. She heard him argue with Edgar once about her being old enough to attend school in their little town, Edgar said she was better off stupid, and she would not go. It wasn't until Beatrice learned to read that she began to understand what her father meant. Anything Sheriff Turner brought to her for studies was quickly hidden from her father, she felt it was best he thought her stupid as well. The books and ledgers traveled back with the Sheriff to his wife for review and corrections. Beatrice was incredibly adept at writing and reading for her age. The question of a formal education had been squelched by her father, leaving Sheriff Turner and his wife to find a path to expose her to an education by whatever means necessary. They believed this was part of fulfilling their promise made to her brother.

In the spring of 1936, the Great Depression was taking its toll on the poor. Some men had found work under FDR's New Deal, but most were unskilled, uninterested and unable to land a job. These were the men who were Edgar's best customers. Beatrice heard stories from her dad's visitors on how tough it was to find work. How they barely had enough food to feed their families. Their stories were no different from the life she had always known so she couldn't understand what their complaining was about. She found it very interesting that people spoke of not having money to feed their kinfolk but somehow managed cash for gas in their cars and enough extra to buy Edgar's homemade juice. If ever a customer would notice her and make a comment regarding her, Edgar would quickly dismiss the conversation and shoo her away. Never once did anyone question why this young girl was seemingly all alone with him.

Beatrice began to notice changes in her body she didn't understand. Hair was growing in places she never expected to have hair. First her underarms, then between her legs, her shins becoming covered with a soft down-like fur. Along with the new hair growth she didn't understand, she was becoming panicked as her chest was swelling and tender to her touch. The circles on her chest were darkening and growing sensitive, this was creating a significant concern in her. Her lean and lanky frame enhanced the noticeable swelling of her breast. These changes made her very uncomfortable, and she did her best to hide them.

Beatrice managed the small patch of land in the front of their house where the garden was. The once large area plowed for farming was now significantly reduced and overgrown. If you looked carefully into the field while standing on the front porch, you could see remnants of plow upside down in the dirt. She once asked her father why it was there, his response was simply that she should mind her own business.