THE POOR CHILDREN OF EVE

What great force drives us from this land? Where can we go? What can we do? Yes, I hear the wind threatening us. Yes, I see the driving rain out the window and watch the drops fall through the roof onto the floor. Yes, I hear the thunder and lightening scream at us. Yes, I feel your force of nature as this old house shakes. Yes, I tremble. I’ve a great fear of you, My Lord. I hear the sound of your voice in all you have visited upon us. I’m so weak in your presence. We have had worms in our bellies, lice in our hair, rashes on our bodies, germs in our lungs. The food you gave us is vomited up and is cast off in great spasms of diarrhea. We have fleas, ticks, mosquitoes, flies, and mites to add misery to us and our animals. Bed bugs are our companions in the night as we sleep. Children die from the mumps, whooping cough, measles, and scarlet fever. The dreaded polio crawls in and out of bed with us and lives in the house with our neighbors. Volumes of books are filled with other diseases that can come as a thief in the night and rob us of our lives. The fear of no money for food, clothing, and medicine haunts our every waking moment. Such an inhospitable land, you have brought us to, Oh Lord. All I love and hold dear, lives and walks upon this unholy ground. I beg thee, Oh Lord, please protect us and deliver us from all of these evil forces that surround us.

We were living in my Granddaddy's big two-story house when one day this man came, and said to My Daddy that he had heard we needed a good muleskinner for them old sorry mules my Granddaddy had helped us buy. They had a talk and it was decided he’d come work for us. He’d live in our house, and eat from our table. He 'd drive the big red mules and be paid $3.00 a day. He’d be free from Saturday at noon until Monday morning. He’d sleep in the upstairs quarters with the boys; that being my brother and me. We slept right up there where the chimney passed through and out to the roof. This made it cozy in the winter, but it could be quite warm in the summer when the General cooked on that wood cook-stove. That was okay. He'd learn to drag his bed as far away as was possible like we did.

This new addition to the household brought an excitement into our lives. My beloved brother and me were becoming close and had shared some very necessary information. There were some things a feller needed to know if he was to grow up. My beloved brother was more than willing to help me along. We’d even shared a little smoking tobacco. He had brought me up to date on the stork and some of the things the General had left out. He had come across some little books that were quite informative. I knew from looking at them the General wouldn’t approve of that kind of information being given out to me. He was my brother, and a bond had formed. We had figured out the adults conspired to keep things from us. We were determined to keep each other advised on anything useful we might discover. We were intent on learning more about this feller and see if he could maybe add to our pool of ever growing knowledge.

Now, this new hired hand of My Daddy's seemed different. He was slim of build, almost frail. He appeared quite timid. He sat right down there and ate supper with us without a word. He took himself a big helping of taters and poured white Dixie Syrup right on top of them. My brother and I looked at each other. My Daddy and the General seemed not to have noticed. Yep, our new roomey was one strange dude all right. Everyone knows that you don't put no syrup on no taters. We were going to watch this ol' boy. We exchanged a smile. The General gave us that be quiet or die look.

Well, that night he came up and took off his clothes and started to lay them on the bed. He was standing there in his long-handled white underwear. They reached from his ankles to his neck and all the way down his arms and out to his wrists. They looked clean enough, not too yeller. He had folded everything up very neatly. He had leaned over to put them on a chair the General had given him for that very thing. Then a very funny thing happened. He dropped to the floor like he had been shot by My Daddy's twelve-gauge shotgun. His eyes rolled back and he started to flop around on the floor like an ol’ catfish. He’d roll this way, then that way, going in a circle. All the time he was a kicking and his head a pounding up and down on the floor. I noticed a white froth had started running out of his mouth.

I jumped upon the bed. I knew he was dying. I started screaming as loud as I could, absolutely terrified. My beloved brother started crying. He flew down the stairs as My Daddy and the General came running up. My Daddy, took one look at that ol’ boy and jumped a straddle of him and started a choking him, right there on the floor. I thought that was kind of strange, as it looked like the feller needed some help. Not being able to figure out what was going on, I became more terrified than before. I ran and jumped into the General's arms. In about five minutes, our new roomy seemed to come from a deep sleep. He looked around like he was seeing things for the first time. I guess My Daddy wasn't choking him after all. That sure gave me some relief. I knew one thing. I was never going to eat no syrup on no taters as long as I lived.

Well, My Daddy and this feller had a talk. It seems that it had nothing to do with the syrup and taters at all. This feller had what My Daddy called “fits”. I’d no idea of epilepsy at that time. I’d seen Ol’ Pal have a fit once. My Daddy said it was because he was full of worms. We got some stuff from the peddler truck that passed by the house once a week. It was a medicine just for them ol’ worms. We mixed it in Ol’ Pal's food, and he didn't have no problem after that. I figured this feller was going to need a big dose.

My Daddy said if that feller had one of them spells and had the check lines from them ol’ red mules wrapped around his waist, like you do when you plow, and they ran away. Well, we all knew what that meant. We’d seen them in action before. My Daddy sure hated to let him go, but he didn't seem to think the worm medicine we had given Ol’ Pal would help him much.

About a week later, I started getting this itch under my arms. Seemed like that the more I’d scratch, the worse it got. Then it went down between my legs. I’d scratch and great blotches would appear. They were red, raised and appeared in little lines. The General put alcohol on them and it did seem to help a little at first. She said I needed to be more careful with the poison ivy around in the fencerows. Next, it went on my chest and up my neck. The hot summer was now upon us, and I’d sweat, itch and scratch. My brother, whom I shared the same living space, bed, and clothes with, started getting them same kind of big red spots that I had. Soon, he was scratching and cussing right along with me. We had no peace. Granny Poe had us to wet pieces of cloth with water, take off our shirts, and rub the soothing cloth up and down our swollen red bodies. The relief was only temporary.

I became so miserable that I sought the General's side of the bed for comfort. She’d rub me until I fell asleep. In a few days, she began to scratch in some very undignified places, and seemed quite irritable. Then My Daddy started to scratch and it seemed we had been visited with some terrible plague. This isn’t something that one goes around in the community asking questions about. We did know, however, it was a malady known as the itch. My Daddy bought some stuff off the peddler truck by the name of Blue Stone. Thank goodness, we were on our way to good health once again.

That night, we followed the instruction to the "T". We got the old galvanized tub up there near the chimney. We put three inches of water in there just like it said. We opened up these little envelopes of blue granules and mixed them into the water. We then got into the tub and washed all the spots that itched. Then came the burn, not like alcohol. A deep, down to the third layer kin’da of skin burn. Then this horrible taste came into our mouths. It tasted like some kind of fertilizer I had once smelled. In spite of all the suffering, it just didn’t do no good. But My Daddy insisted we keep up the treatment. We continued to scratch and to burn for two more weeks. Our bodies were poisoned from this horrible chemical and long restless nights of nightmares would follow.

My Daddy said we needed to give it time and keep using this medicine, as it was what everyone else in the countryside was using. We continued for another three weeks. We became sick and began to vomit. The itching was as intense as it had ever been. Our family was in crisis. Were we never to rid ourselves of such misery? Was it true that you had this for seven years? How could we go on? Our lives had become a living hell.

The General finally had enough. She could smell the Blue Stone on her babies' breath, and they weren't getting any better. Surely, somewhere there was a cure for this unbearable misery that had been sent down upon us. My Daddy said he couldn't afford to pay Mr. Kooprider no $3.00 and miss a whole day's work to go see no doctor. The General, as you already know, had entered into a contract with the Lord about getting us raised up to grown folks. She explained this to My Daddy in a way that he could understand it. After thinking it over, he decided to hitchhike to Paragould and see a Mr. Dr. Poe. He could at least save the $3.00. He could work on Saturday afternoon to catch up on lost time. Dr. Poe was new in town, and folks were saying nice things about him. The General, she liked the name Messer a lot, but she was still partial to Poe as well.

My Daddy left early the next morning and with him went all our hopes and the Generals prayers. I couldn’t go on one more day in this heat scratching like an old hog leaning on a stump. I was one big sore. I itched in every part of my body, even between my finger and toes. I sure hoped that ol’ Dr. Poe was good as folks said. My Daddy returned that evening about 5:00 P.M. He brought home a bunch of long, yellowish, white pads, about three inches by six inches in size and a quarter inch thick. He said the doctor said we’d what you called ‘The Scabies.’ He said it was a little animal that gets down in your skin. The female makes a little red line in your skin, and she gets in there and lays eggs. This causes what the doctor called pustules. He said the treatment for years had been oil of lavender on a nice clean piece of cotton flannel. You would spend about five minutes rubbing this into your skin. The doctor now said they had a miracle drug called sulfur. These little strips My Daddy had brought home were soaked with the sulfur and an oil of lavender. We were to wash our red spots with these, and we’d be well in no time.

I was ready to do whatever he suggested. All the better, we’d this new miracle drug. You just got in that old tub same as with the Blue Stone. This time, though, you just wet that little pad and used it like a wash cloth. I soaked it good and a nice soapy, sweet smell came up to me. I started rubbing it on. Much to my relief, it didn’t burn like Blue Stone. It was quite soothing. It dried, the skin felt a little tight, but the itching was gone. That night I slept like a newborn baby for the first time in weeks. The miracle drug had worked.

In these many years since that time, I’ve traveled the world over and have been afflicted by all manners of afflictions, maladies, diseases, parasites and even had surgery. None have ever been able to compare to the suffering brought on by that little animal called Acarus Scabei. He is truly in a class of his own. I, also to date, have avoided putting white syrup on my taters. I’m not taking any chances