Woman of Courage

Copyright 2017 David Tadlock

Published by David Tadlock at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedicated to all the women who have or are battling this dreaded disease called cancer.

You are the real Women of Courage.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

About the Author

Contact the Author

Chapter 1

September 1956

As Marion set the plates and the silverware at both ends of the table, she felt a slight twinge in her side. She bit her lower lip, shut her eyes and twitched as if she were enduring the pain of a needle being stuck in her vein, only this pain wasn’t from a needle - it was from the small baby that had grown legs inside her womb and seemed to be trying to kick its way out from its cage between her ribs.

All right little Betty or Bob, you need to settle down and quit all your kicking. She looked down and rubbed over her plump, round pregnant belly. She continued to rub with one hand as she went on with her work; the unborn babe kicked a few more times until it finally settled down.

The next kick seemed to pierce her side, as though the small infant inside of her was trying to force its way out feet first. As she continued setting the table she continued to talk to the unborn baby as though it was following her around between the kitchen and dining room of the little one bedroom shotgun house. You still have a couple of more months to go, and then you can kick all you want. She stopped and paused only a moment to rub her belly with both hands and acknowledge the small child inside of her. You know Daddy will be home soon. Is that why you’re kicking so hard? Now we have to get supper on the table before Daddy gets home, and in a couple of more months you’ll be here and then in a few years you can help Mommy prepare supper and set the table. Would you like that? The infant made one last small kick as if it understood what the mother said, and agreed with her.

Marion went into the kitchen and poured black-eyed peas into a bowl while steam rose from the boiler. She set the boiler in the sink and carried the bowl to the table. She rushed back into the kitchen and pulled the oven door open and pulled the cast iron fryer full of beautiful golden brown cornbread out of the oven. She grabbed a plate from the dishpan and flipped the cornbread over onto the plate. Then she cut the bread into triangular pie sections and carried it to the table. One more thing and we’ll be done in time for Daddy to come home and enjoy a good supper. She said as she continued to work.

The last thing she set on the table was a small plate of chicken that she fried up earlier, wrapped in aluminum foil and set in the center of the stove to keep hot until she got supper done and the table set. She paused for one last look at the masterpiece she had arranged on the table. There, now do you think Daddy will be happy when he gets home? She rubbed her plump belly, placing both hands on her back to stretch while she took one last approving look.

Just as she walked back into the kitchen to grab the glasses she heard the old Nash Rambler pull into the yard. She told her unborn child, Daddy’s home! As she poured two glasses of milk she heard the front door open. He laid his cap and jacket down on the back of the chair; he looked worn out from a long day at the gas station.

Honey, I’m home! the shout came from the living room; Edward walked into the doorway of the dining room at the same moment his young wife came through the doorway of the kitchen. My, oh my! Would you look at that beautiful setting someone arranged for me. And look at all this wonderful food someone has cooked for me. He smiled and gently caught his wife around the back with one hand while putting his other hand on her swollen stomach and leaned down and said, Did you cook all this for Daddy? You been slaving all day in the kitchen? If you done all this, what has Mommy been doing all day? He kissed her on the belly then stood up, smiled and kissed his wife and asked, How’s my beautiful ladies been doing today? How do you feel? You haven’t been overdoing it today have you? He showed great concern for her. Even though they had been married a year and three months he still treated her as if he’d just married her.

Marion leaned around him and set his glass of milk on his side of the table and put her glass down next to her plate. She looked at him, a small gentle smile. I’m fine, and no I haven’t been overdoing it, even though ‘he’ has been kicking up a storm this afternoon. I told you I think it’s going to be a boy and I think he’s going to be a kicker on some football team. Sit down and let’s eat supper before it gets cold.

As both of them sat down almost simultaneously, she asked him how his day had gone.

Well, an insurance salesman came into the station today. He didn’t buy any gas. He just got a soda and a pack of crackers. I got to talking to him about what it’s like selling insurance.

She could almost see the gleam in his eye as he talked about how well the guy was dressed and what a nice car he drove. I mean honey, he has this beautiful brand-spankin’ new Buick Riviera. You talk about a nice car. I need to make more money so we can take little Betty or Bob out on a Sunday drive and ride in comfort and style. It sure makes me want to start looking to sell insurance.

Honey, there ain’t nothing wrong with our car. I’m not as concerned about us making more money. I just want us to be happy. If we can just get out of debt, save up, we can pay down on us a nice home with a white picket fence, even get you that new car that you want. I would love to get one of those new automatic washing machines but honey, I’m happy right now. We can make do with what we’ve got. If our baby is healthy, and me and you are healthy that’s all that matters.

But baby, think about it. If I did make more money, we could buy the white house and you would have your new washing machine and… Suddenly she started to grin, and then her body started to shake as she tried her best to control her smirk, until she couldn’t hold it back any longer, and burst out into laughter. What is it? What’s so funny? he said, with a quizzical look on his face.

What are you planning on doing, running for president? She continued to laugh as he sat there looking at her perplexed, still not sure what she was talking about.

What? What do you mean? Edward still felt clueless over all the laughter.

You said, ‘we could buy the White House and I would have my new washing machine.’ She again burst into laughter. If we’re in the White House I would hope we would have someone to do the washing for me…and the cooking, and the cleaning. How would you like that shirt washed, Mr. President? Would you like me to wring it out by hand or should I just shake it out and run it up the flagpole like they do the flag? Mr. President, would you like black-eyed peas and cornbread with your fried chicken? Her sarcasm hit his humorous side as he went back to eating his supper with a grin on his face.

As they finished supper, Edward leaned his shoulders back and arched the midsection of his back forward trying to stretch it. He grabbed his back and rubbed it with one hand while rubbing his neck with the other. I am so tired. Some days nobody will come in all day and then there are days like today. It seems everybody in Courage, Georgia either wants their oil and tires checked, water checked in their radiator or just want to get gas. It has been a busy day. Days like today I need to be making at least thirty dollars a week instead of twenty-seven. At least a little raise wouldn’t hurt old man Barnett. The way gas has gone up to nearly a quarter a gallon. He sells about a thousand gallons a week. Not to mention the oil and sodas he sells.

Yea right! Don’t forget who you are talking about- Herman the hermit. Marion let out another sarcastic grin as she snickered and laughed saying his full name. Herman ’the hermit’ Barnett.

Well, if you think about it, he is the one that puts food on our table. Edward made himself more humble by having a job with no more than an eighth grade education. Jobs are going to be hard to find one day and I guess it’s better than nothing at all.

Yea, you’re right. I guess we should be thankful… I tell you what. Why don’t you go in the bedroom, take your boots off and let me have that greasy, dingy, dirty work shirt. Marion got up and went behind him and helped him out of his shirt. I’ll clean this mess up, feed the dogs, and I’ll run you a nice hot bath. And then you can relax on the couch and listen to the radio. Will that work for you, Mr. Edward Tarvey?

She leaned over his shoulder as he looked up at her with a smile, Oh, boy! That sounds like a winner to me. I believe I will take you up on your offer, Mrs. Marion Tarvey.

A smile between them and a kiss, then she took his shirt to the bathroom while he went into the bedroom to take his boots off. She started running the water into the deep eagle-clawed bathtub. The hot water and the cold water both has its own faucet, so she rubbed her hands in the tub several times adjusting the hot and cold water to get it to a satisfying temperature for Edward to sit in.

Edward’s timing was almost perfect: just as he walked into the small bathroom, she was turning off the water. He put one foot into the tub and drew it back rather quickly. Did I get it too hot? she asked with concern.

No, no, it’ll be alright. I just have to get adjusted to the temperature. It’ll take just a minute.

I can turn some more cold water on it.

No honey, no, I said it would be alright. It’ll get cold soon enough after I soak in it for a while. You go on and finish doing what you are doing and if I want some more hot or cold water I’ll turn it on. He motioned her with his hands to move on out of the bathroom. Go now, go! Shoo! Scram! Get out of here! I’ll be alright!

Marion reached on the shelf and took a washcloth and popped it at him, then threw it at him in the tub, grabbed him a towel and put it on the white ceramic sink that was attached to the wall next to the tub. Now, you just relax and take it easy and soak a little bit, that‘ll make you feel better. She then walked out of the bathroom; he sunk down into the tub and took a deep breath as he put the hot, wet washcloth over his face.

He heard her in the kitchen rattling the dirty dishes. He laid back, thinking of everything from the sound he heard in the next room to the day’s events and the insurance salesman that came by the gas station. She raked bones and leftover black-eyed peas into a boiler, adding crumbled-up cornbread; all the leftovers could be fed to the dogs. She actually dreaded having to feed those two big dogs; both of them were a mixed breed of pit bull and lab, and they were more aggressive than she liked them to be. Even so, she was fairly certain they both would protect her should the need arise.

The darker haired dog Ed named ’Bear’ because it reminded him of a grizzly bear, and the white one he named ‘Snowtop’ because when he got it as a puppy from a neighbor, the neighbor’s daughter said it looked like the top of a mountain covered in snow when he had his head tucked between his feet sleeping. There weren’t any big snow covered mountains in Georgia; they barely got any snow at all some winters.

Ed heard the pattering of the dogs’ feet on the porch as Marion took the big boiler out to them while they were anticipating their meal for the evening. They both had already caught the scent of fried chicken while it was cooking earlier in the evening, knowing it would be a special treat for them later. But neither of them could wait ‘til their dishes were filled; they both headed to the same dish while Marion talked loud and with authority to them, telling them both to get back and wait. ‘Wait’ was not a very strong point of their vocabulary or of their commands. When it came to the scent of fresh fried meat trimmings and the juicy bones associated with them, their most primeval instinct took over, as they both wanted to be first.

Marion shouted louder at them; as they began to get entangled with one another they preferred the dominance to the dinner. The rage and fight ensued and became more and more of a fight for survival than anything else. Both dogs were now on their back legs, front legs and paws clawing at each other; grisly canine teeth searching for the weakness of the other’s throat. The fight became very intense on the small wooden porch as Marion tried her best to bring order to the out-of-control upheaval between the two beasts.

She held onto the boiler with one hand while trying to grab the wooden corner post on the porch with the other. The dogs kept pushing and gnawing at one another, until their combined weight finally fell against her; she let go of the boiler as she grabbed her stomach to protect what she valued the most. The wailing scream came through the house to the bathroom; Ed had already jumped from the tub and started putting on his pants as soon as he heard the change in her voice.

Edward! Help! Oh God! Edward! Help! The cry and scream was blood curling as Ed rushed through the little house to the front door; the fight had moved to the yard, and he continued to holler at the dogs while looking around for Marion. He finally saw her, laying in the yard, holding her swollen belly and crying for Edward to help her.

He jumped off the porch and rushed down to her, Edward! Edward! It won’t stop hurting! Please Ed! Do something! Ed grabbed her up in his arms and carried her over to the car as she clinched her muscles in pain with eyes shut tight, biting her lower lip. He put her into the passenger seat and ran into the house to get the keys, all at the same time he encouraged her to hold on and he’d get her to the hospital as fast as he could. The nearest neighbor was about a quarter-mile down the road, so Ed knew he needed to hurry and he was certain no one heard the commotion.

Chapter 2

With the exception of a doctor or nurse being called over the intercom occasionally, the emergency room was rather quiet. There was a small boy who had fallen; he either had a broken or fractured arm; a woman sat with her husband, who had what appeared to be a bad case of the flu or some other viral bug.

Ed sat patiently as they worked on Marion. As the moments ticked away quietly, to Ed they seemed like hours. He got up, paced back and forth a few minutes, then sat back down with his elbows resting on his thigh, head hung down, pulling on his lower lip.

Lord have mercy, I wish they would hurry up and tell me something. He whispered to himself. He looked up as the double doors going into the surgical room opened. A nurse walked out; Ed jumped to his feet as he recognized the attending nurse who helped him and the doctor get Marion into a wheelchair when they came in. How is she? Is the baby okay? Can I go and see her?

Mr. Tarvey, she and the baby will be fine. The doctor will be out in just a minute to see you and then you can go in and see them. It’ll be just a couple of minutes, okay? She said as she patted him on the arm.

Okay… I can go and see ‘them’? What? What do you mean I can go and see ‘them’? His eyes widened and he reached out to her as she turned to walk away.

Yes sir, you can see ‘them’. She had a small grin on her face to break the better half of the news to him. Congratulations, Mr. Tarvey, you and Mrs. Tarvey have a bouncing baby girl.

He was overcome with emotions as tears welled up in his eyes. He clasped his hands together in thankfulness, looked up toward the ceiling and gave God thanks. The doctor walked out the same double doors that the nurse had walked out of just a moment before.

Mr. Tarvey?

Yes. How is she, Doc? Are they going to be okay? Is the baby healthy? He asked all the questions in eager anticipation of the answers.

Well sir, the doctor sat down as Ed followed in the chair next to him. You know the baby wasn’t due for almost another two months. She is mostly fully developed but she is still very frail and weak. Her lungs need to be more developed so we’re going to have to keep her for several days; maybe even a few weeks to see how she progresses. Of course, we had to take it by Cesarean or C-section if you will. Mrs. Tarvey will also be here for a few more days. And when they both go home I’m going to expect a great deal of bed rest for both of them, so that means you or someone else is going to have to pull most of the workload at home. Okay? Ed nodded his head in approval and agreement.

Can I see them now? Ed wasn’t concerned about the workload at home later; he was more concerned about seeing his loving wife and newborn daughter.

Sure, but remember, they both need their rest, so don’t be too long. The doctor tapped Ed on the knee as he got up. As they both stood to their