Unheard Cries:Rock Store Rebel

Unheard Cries:Rock Store

Rebel

By Joyce Mitchell

Copyright © 2011 Joyce Mitchell

Smashwords Edition

DEDICATION

TO

MY

PRECIOUS

FAMILY

Other books by Joyce Mitchell

Hope

Petals from the Past

Smell of Resin

Booger Bottoms

Toby the Trout

Maggie Maypop

Harmon Hollow

Dink and Daisy

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the written permission of the publisher.

Cover design by Laura Wright LaRoche

of LLPix Photography

Edited by Hercules Editing

An epic novel, detailing the complexities of wife and family abuse in the early twentieth century—this story follows the lives of a fated—or rather doomed—couple, Emma and Aaron Lerner.

~Cozy Cat Press~

This story will pull at your heartstrings while you journey along with Emma Scott and her tales of an abusive husband….

~Laura LaRoche, Author of Black Woods~

The silver lining shines brightest when outlining the darkest cloud. Truly inspiring!

~S. B. Knight, Author of Born of Blood~

Unheard Cries:

Rock Store Rebel

By Joyce Mitchell

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter One

Emma could not believe that she was in the cemetery at this time of the night. She sat on the shiny black stallion that Aaron had helped her mount just a little while earlier. He’d waited in the field across from her bedroom window until her parents went to bed, and then Emma slipped out as she’d done so many times before. With wind in their faces and butterflies in Emma’s stomach bursting into tiny exploding grenades, they galloped off into the night.

Clouds covered the quarter moon. A lightning bolt hit a sweet gum tree just ahead of Aaron. A clap of thunder boomed and rolled through the forest. This spooked Emma’s horse, Midnight. Then, another clap of thunder pierced her ears. A large bolt hit again, this time striking the grave of a well-known Heard County psychic that had just been buried. She had been known for her moonshine-making ability, and left her young daughter, Mahaley, tending to the business.

Emma thought she saw something move; she felt like something was going to come up out of that grave and grab her. She shook so hard that Midnight was ready to throw her off onto the ground. Leaves and debris from the storm, flying through the trees and making their own scary music, landed in Emma’s face.

Get me outta here, Aaron! She started to cough and clear her throat. Her eyes enlarged with brown fire. She looked over her shoulder at the unshaven, mischievous kid that she’d fallen in love with last year.

Why do you want to go now, Emma? The fun has just started, said Aaron, grinning as he reached over to hold her trembling hand. He grabbed the reins, pulled downward, and calmed wide-eyed Midnight, who was rearing and staring into the lit up heavens.

Another bolt hit nearby and a puff of smoke appeared. Emma Scott was not the type to see apparitions, but there were times - especially when tired or frustrated with her boyfriend - that she caught just the mere flicker of a glimpse of a ghost. But, while her heart raced with excitement, she turned her head quickly. Nothing was there!

Could it be the ghost of the man that the sheriff found hanging on the old truss steel bridge last year near Fox Hill, down Salem Road, two miles from her parents’ grocery store? Or was she losing her mind? Her nerves had really been playing up on her the past few months.

You’re one of the meanest boys I’ve ever met, Aaron Lerner - the meanest at Rosemont High. Take me home now! She was beginning to feel a little squeamish in her stomach. She and Aaron had been out before, enjoying a ride through the forest. It was a routine for them. He’d throw pebbles at her windowpane or sometimes he’d sneak up to it and peck on it. Then, he would hide behind the well house and she’d climb out, hanging onto the rope and green ivy streaming down the splintered woodhouse. They’d sit up against a tree, carve hearts, and roll rabbit tobacco. But tonight was just a bit too nerve-racking for Emma.

Leaning over his horse and carving a heart encircled with A & E in the big oak tree, he asked, Why you wanna go, Emma?

‘Cause my mama would kill me if she caught me out here with you. You know how she feels about you!

Why don’t ole’ Beulah and Con Scott like me? I’m really a good old soul, said Aaron, with a smirk on his face.

Well, do you think it would be that black eye you gave me just last week ‘cause I was talking to one of my friends in school?

Awww, I don’t know. Could be ‘cause they love their precious little baby girl! He started tickling her under the arm and teasing in a way she didn’t like. Anyway, it’s spooky out here and I’m having fun, so why you wanna go?

My mama gets up early to open the store. You know that! Your parents run one. Don’t they get up with the roosters?

Aww, I know, you pretty thing! You’re beautiful when you’re angry.

She turned her head toward Aaron and twisted her mouth a little. With her dark hair and tan skin, Emma looked every bit like her Cherokee ancestors; she’d even inherited her mother’s sweet smile. I shouldn’t’ve opened my window when you were pecking on it. I knew it was stormy outside, and you know that I’m afraid of lightning.

He looked over his shoulder with sparkling blue eyes and placed his right hand tightly on her arm, cold with goose bumps. You love me. That’s why you opened it!

She sighed. I know I do¾but you sure do get me in a lot of trouble sometimes. She leaned in to give him a peck on the cheeks. Her smile faded, like the jeans he wore that day. Her worried look didn’t wear off until she reached her little four-room, unpainted bungalow next to Scott’s Grocery.

Chapter Two

In high school, the five-foot-eleven, good-looking Aaron had aced his math, had been pro at ringing the basketball goal, and had his pick of the ladies. But, from the first time he’d seen

Emma Scott, a dark-eyed Cherokee, it was all over for him in the falling-in-love department. However, being in love didn’t stop him from flirting with the other southern belles.

As for Emma, she’d fallen in love with Aaron, his jet-black hair with a shiny spit curl hanging on one side, when the two families were at the wholesale house. He was leaning on the dusty glass counter, flipping a coin constantly while his mother, Bessie, was collecting her change at the register. She had bought sardines and pickled pigs’ feet to stock their shelves at the old Rock Store Grocery. Emma would catch Aaron looking over his shoulders, admiring her, as she admired him. For her, it was definitely love at first sight!

The next morning, Emma could hear the school bus coming a long way off on the country roads, a unique sound that she immediately recognized. She jumped out of bed, got dressed, and grabbed her hairbrush and lunch box along with a hot biscuit. She ran out the screeching door just as the bus was coming to a halt in front of her house. She needed to quit daydreaming about the little blue-eyed troublemaker she’d fallen in love with.

As she entered the classroom, spitballs were flying from all sides of the one-room schoolhouse. The old pot-bellied stove was red hot.

Emma, hey, Emma.

Cautiously (because her mama had threatened to whip her if she got her new clothes dirty), Emma poked her head up to see her classmate, Odessa, leaning over the top of her beat-up Jean-Prouve desk. Her face was creased by her snub-nosed grin.

Aaron is trying to get your attention, Odessa whispered, brushing a spitball off her neck.

Emma heard a rustle of paper. Ducking her head, she turned around to see her friend Helen snapping her books shut and leaning in to whisper a message.

He said, ‘When Mr. Rogers comes back from break, surprise him with a spitball.’

Emma looked at Helen in disbelief. Are you crazy? she asked her friend.

Helen shrugged. Not me, she said. Blame Aaron. He’s the one that wants you to shoot the teacher.

Through the window, they could see that the door to the outhouse was still shut tight. There was no telling how long Mr. Rogers would be in there. Emma had gotten in trouble with Mr. Rogers many times before because of Aaron. He was just so mischievous and irresistible. Still, Mr. Rogers had an aura of power about him that frightened her. She had the feeling that she was spelling her own doom by succumbing to Aaron, as she knew she would.

Aaron Lerner, the most popular boy in the school, always got his way, not just with Emma, but with all the boys and girls. Since he was from a wealthy family, he was spoiled. His father and mother were successful farmers and owned the well-known Rock Store on the corner of Hamilton and Salem, across from Pleasant Grove Methodist Church. Aaron’s father, Harvey - tall and slender, and nearly bald - had been in and out of the hospital recovering from a heart attack that had struck him at an early age. Aaron’s mother, Bessie, ran the old store.

Just hold on, Emma said, and tossed her long black hair over her shoulders. She knew that she