Kate, Page 2

Chapter02 - Rita

  On the morning of June 17, 1924 a sharecropper grade shanty occupied by the Blaine family reverberated with the loud cries of Rita Marie Blaine forcefully announcing her arrival and claim to citizenship in Harvey County, Kansas and planet earth. Rita was the first of three children that would be born to Rufus and Edna Blaine.

  Two sons followed Rita into the struggling family and during the spring flood of 1937 Edna contracted typhoid fever and died, leaving twelve-year-old Rita as woman of the house.

  Following The Great War (WW I) mid-western farmers continued to receive war time prices for their grain because of demand in Western Europe where farmland was devastated by great land battles suffered during the ill-fated war. Fueled by technology advancement growing out of the war, small powerful tractors, particularly Fordson's, manufactured by the 'Tin Lizzy's' progenitor, Henry Ford, sold tractor at a price low enough for farmers to economically sell off their horses and buy a tractor capable of replacing a six horses team able to travel faster, never tired and didn't require time out to eat.

  Increased demand for grain encouraged farmers to transform large amounts of prairie grassland into tillable soil, which opened vast areas of loose soil to the ever-present prairie wind. During the later twenties Europe slowly regained its grain growing capabilities, resulting in less demand for American grain and quick weakening in prices paid to farmers.

  Mid-west farmers were feeling the pinch from falling grain prices and planted fewer acres leaving large blocks tillable ground fallow. The killing blow came on black Friday in October of 1929 when the Wall Street Stock Market crashed. Keeping pace with plummeting stock prices, grain became a glut on the market. Sacks of wheat, numbering in the thousands, were left stacked in the field to rot, feed rodents and provide a quick meal to passing birds.

  When the thirties dawned, without a market for their products, farmers were going bankrupt by the thousand. With a closed market, bankrupt farmers quit planting grain and the mid-west breadbasket land lay fallow with only weeds to hold the loose soil in place.

  Adding to the plight of farmers, nature played its trump card in the lethal economic game by withholding rain and ushering in a long period of draught. Shorn of its protective grass coat, the dry ground lay exposed and vulnerable to the ubiquitous wind. Exposed soil subjected to a hot desiccating sun quickly turning into dust. Heat generated from uncounted thousands acres of bare ground contributed to an increase in wind velocity. With sub-gale force wind blowing across vast stretches of vacant ground, once fertile soil was transformed into dust spawning huge dust clouds emulating winter blizzards blowing mega-tons of soil from the mid-west to become known as, The Great Dust Bowl.

  Sand particle size bits of soil blew through cracks in houses; around doors and windows to coat the inside rooms with a layer of dust. Gritty dirt permeated cupboards, closets, clothes and beds leaving inhabitants to live similar to borrowing rodents.

  Robbed of moisture the ground was incapable of producing for neither man nor beast. Many fundamental Bible people believed end-times were upon them and gave up, waiting for the Lord to take them. A large segment of the mid-west population, including Harvey County, loaded their meager belongings in and on family flivvers, and headed for California. Lacking transportation the remaining population, including the Blaines, was unable to take part in the Great Dust Bowl exodus.

  When Rita's mother died, the Blaine's two-room shanty was part of a farm repossessed by a bank, located two miles away, at a wide place in the road known as Westbank, Kansas. Like many families without money or transportation to follow the westward migration, the Blaines were allowed to occupy their house and grow a small garden irrigated by water dipped, from a well in return for Rufus being a part-time caretaker of the farm.

  When viewed pragmatically, the great depression was perhaps the most democratic event visited upon the maturing United States. It meted out misery democratically to the populace by showing few favorites. Privation, broken dreams, disappointment and hunger were shared in more-or-less equal measure by all.

  For those at the economic bottom, including the Blaine family, conditions were eased somewhat in the later thirties when Federal projects such as the WPA began putting men to work on public projects such as building levees, roads and other needed improvements. It was not until 1940, when the Army commenced construction of a nearby air base that living conditions around Westbank began to improve. Construction jobs became plentiful and Rufus Blaine was soon at work as a construction laborer.

  With Rufus' new higher paying job, the Blaines began to enjoy a small step up in prosperity with new clothes, better meals and a larger house; then disaster suddenly struck Rita. It happened on a Saturday morning when Rita's father and two brothers awakened early and left to go fishing, leaving her alone.

  This was one of the few mornings Rita's was afforded the luxury to languish in bed without having to get up early to prepare breakfast. Making a quarter turn to lie on her back, Rita felt a strange stickiness between her upper thighs. Reaching down with her right hand to explore the cause of this unusual feeling she found blood. Staring first at her hand and throwing back bed the covers she saw fresh blood covering her thighs and splotches on the bottom bed sheet, the discovery terrified Rita. Without knowing or understanding the how or why, womanhood was suddenly and without warning thrust upon her.

  Without a mother nor a close female relationship, Rita was never told about the mysterious physical changes she would encounter as part of her rites of passage into womanhood during a phase known as puberty.

  While cleaning away the blood from her body and changing bedclothes, thoughts raced through her mind about the nature of her condition. She vaguely remembered noticing a few strange changes in how her body felt days before, leaving her to wonder if she had contacted a strange disease or something suddenly broke inside her body to cause this strange blood flow.

  Setting aside the whys of her condition, Rita began trying to think through how to handle this calamity. Her father was not likely to return until late in the evening and when he did arrive home, she doubted if he would know how to help her. Slowly her mind began telling her she needed to talk with another woman. A faint memory recalled hearing women frequently experienced something they called, 'female problems'. Unfortunately the only woman nearby was Ol' Lizzy, who's house was about a half mile away and Lizzy was considered by most members of the community as being addled-headed.

  Lizzy was of indeterminate age with a deep lined face looking like a dried up melon. She did her hair up in a frazzled bun, offering the appearance of a comb never being been put to her gray hair in the past month. She spoke with a voice sounding like some part of her speaking mechanism needed oiling. Without knowing anything better to do, Rita stuck a washcloth inside her panties, pulled on her clothes and set out at a run to seek help from Ol' Lizzy.

  With nothing pressing to do in her life Lizzy was a late sleeper, however on this morning she was suddenly awakened by a loud pounding on her door by someone with a high-pitched voice calling for help. Without being fully awake, Lizzy opened the door to find Rita standing on the porch with the look of utter terror painted on her young face. Not waiting to be invited, Rita ran past Lizzy babbling something about bleeding to death. It took a few minutes for the two women to reach a coherent level of calmness where Lizzy was able to grasp the root of Rita's panic. After hearing the young girl's story, Lizzy told Rita there was nothing to fear, followed by a strong dose of basic female hygiene education.

  One particular point in the impromptu lecture delivered by the dirt-poor, earthy, old crone would remain cemented in Rita's mind until she was a fully mature woman. By acting on Lizzy's rough earthy warning, Rita was spared the pain and embarrassment of being initiated into The Pregnant High School Girls Sorority. Ol' Lizzy cemented one simple succinct fact of life in Rita's young memory. To Whit: Boys will use every trick and promise they can to get into her pants and their membe
r into you. If a boy ever gets his business into you he would put a baby in your belly for sure.

  Throughout her maturation, Ol' Lizzy's words circled through Rita's mind every time a boy drew close to her. She dated occasionally, but shied away from the two main mating rituals of pubescent boys and girls, going steady and necking. Neither was she interested in extra-curricular school activities preferring to spend her limited spare time working in the local drugstore.

  In Rita's senior high school year, she thought frequently and at length about life after graduation. One thought kept pushing others from her mind, under no circumstance was she going to rush into marriage. The minds of most girls in her class followed a single track; they hoped to get married immediately after graduation and talked incessantly about becoming a wife and mother. Having spent most of her life being a substitute mother to her younger brothers, the experience successfully curbed maternal instincts attempting to enter her mind and derailed all desires for future motherhood. She wanted to escape the responsibilities associated with motherhood and homemaker by placing high hopes to live her own life free, without restricting attachments.

  A month before graduation Rita visited the nearby airbase personnel office to inquire about a career in civil service. She was encouraged to fill out an employment application form and take a typing test required to qualify for a clerk/typist position.

  The Sunday following high school graduation Rita was home alone reading a book with radio music playing in the background. She paused to think about her father. For the past three or four months he uncharacteristically began paying extra attention to his appearance and spending more of his weekends in town. Rita paid little heed to her father's new behavior because two years ago Rita and her father reached a common understanding, allowing each person to act independently without keeping close tabs on each other's activities. Based on the results of this agreement, Rita was completely unprepared for the shock poised and ready to strike.

  At mid-afternoon Rita recognized her father's car driving up their short driveway and park, followed by woman's voice intermixed with her father's as they entered the house.

  "Hey! Rita," her father called, "I've got a surprise for you."

  "I wonder what Daddy is up to now? He's never acted this way before," she thought. "He's never mentioned a woman since mom died; guess I'll soon find out." Walking into the living room Rita saw a rather heavy, gaudy-dressed, bottle-blond woman, of her father's approximate age leaning against him.

  "Rita," she heard her father say. "Meet your new mother? we were married this morning. It all happened kind of sudden like and with all your school graduation going on I thought it best to wait until the excitement died down before we got married.

  Hello Rita, I've heard a lot about you and I'm sure we'll get along fine. By the way, my name is Sophie; but you can call me mother. Calling me 'Mom' is out of the question because Mom makes me think of a greasy spoon joint called Mom's Caf? where I worked for awhile.

  Rita stood looking at her father and Sophie without actually seeing them as she tried to bring her mind into sync with the suddenness of learning a strange woman was set to invade her domain.

  "Well, say something," Rita's father commanded, with a touch of nervousness in his voice she never noticed before. "Don't just stand there acting uppity to your new mother." Turning to the woman Rita heard her voice speaking with a form of distant detachment, giving her the feeling of being an out-of-body onlooker.

  "Hello Sophie." Turning back to her father she said,

  "Daddy, she may be your wife, but she sure is one hell of a long shot from being my mother. If she's going to run this house, keep her off my ass until I can find a place to live. And, oh yes, good luck. Because Daddy, you're going to need all the luck you can get before you get through with this mess. I hope you'll both be real happy." Rita said, before turning and walking out the back door, leaving her father and his new bride with shocked looks on their faces.