Living in the Woods in a Tree: Remembering Blaze Foley

Chapter 58: Family Secrets

58 Family Secrets L ate that same evening Marsha and I sit on the porch in the dark, a thing she likes to do when Tom has gone to bed and she’s up by herself. Louise hasalreadysaidgood-night,soit’sjustthetwoofus,listeningtothewind and the distant cries of nightjars. Mike’s presence flutters around us, innocent and elusive, attracted by our efforts to recollect his scattered beginnings. Louise and Edwin had met young and married young. Edwin declared it love at first sight, though it didn’t take long for Louise to fall hard too. A funloving , independent girl who never wore make-up, she knew her folks would approve of her charming new beau, since he came from strict Methodists out of north Georgia. Edwin was only eight when his father died, right on the cusp of the Great Depression. The boy had promised his grieving mother he’d become a preacher when he grew up. Only he had a wild streak he couldn’t contain, and life, apparently, had other plans for him. How easy it would be to make Edwin the villain of this saga. If nothing else, the sojourn back to Blaze has taught me that our stories precede our lives. Edwin, too, emerged from conditions that shaped him, and even if I know almost nothing about them, I saw their effects in our one brief encounter in a Dallas nursing home. “Well,” Marsha comments when I remind her of his frailness. “That alcohol will eat you up.” “Blaze hardly ever talked about him,” I admit. “It was like he never had a childhood.” “I know I didn’t,” his sister declares. “Daddy’d get drunk and threaten to kill us. One time he accused me of lying to him. Bent my arms so far back I thought they’d rip out. I got married, had a baby. At fourteen. I thought that’d solve everything.” 229 230 | Living in the Woods in a Tree: Remembering Blaze Foley She raises a palm skyward. “’Course I got Stephanie from that, so I am not complaining, Lord.” My heart begins to thump. The moment I’ve been dreading has arrived. “Marsha—” I hesitate. “There’s something I need to tell you.” I fumble for the right words. “I’ve already written about it—and I wouldn’t want you to hear it from anyone but me.” In her wicker chair Marsha has grown still, intent on listening. I’m reminded she’s been a counselor to women fallen on harder times than mine, and no doubt there’s nothing she hasn’t already heard. “When Blaze and I were together,” I begin, taking a breath and letting the admission flow out on it—“I had an abortion.” Marsha bends slightly, drawing on her cigarette. The ember throws shadows on an inscrutable expression. I push on. “It was not a careless act. For a long time after I didn’t think about it. Now it haunts me again. I know—that child would be your family too.” Marsha jabs out the cigarette, sparks flying in the dark. “I’m not for abortion myself,” she replies. “But I can’t judge anyone. Only the Lord can do that.” “I don’t think anyone’s really for abortion,” I reply, hoping to leave the Lord out of it. “We made a decision only we could make.” “And then you lived with it.” “Either way you live with it.” I spread my hands helplessly. “I don’t think I would have made a very good mother.” Marsha’s head snaps up. “You think I did?” “What about Stephanie?” We’d visited her daughter that afternoon, and I’d marveled at her, a small, delicate housewife and mother, so sturdy and self-contained. Marsha fans a hand. “Oh, Stephanie’s just Stephanie. She’s been that way from the moment she was born.” She puts another cigarette to her lips. I’m guessing she’s thinking about Paul, and the fallout of her prison stays on him and the grandchildren who now ache from his absence. “Blaze didn’t have much of a father,” she allows. “He was running from my daddy all his life.” The match flame lights up the taut lines of her face. “I went and found Daddy before he died,” she sighs. “In a hospital in Wichita Falls. Sybil, he was so alone. I’m telling you, my daddy’s Bible was wore out!” Family Secrets | 231 Edwin passed away...