A Wave From Mama

Chapter 4: Esther & Mabel Washington

Chapter 4

Esther & Mabel Washington

MOSES WORRIED AS he led the boy down Atlantic Avenue with his hands bound and a rope leash fashioned around his waist. The concern wasn’t about Venture getting loose again, but rather the negative reaction of the townspeople to the vision of a grown man marching what appeared to be an innocent—but bound—five-year-old boy into town. Ezra finished his goodbyes with the girls at the amalgamation house and called out to his younger brother as the crowd started to gather.

“Moses, what the hell are you doing? You’re treating him like an animal!”

The married storekeepers, who chased the boy a few hours earlier, came onto the scene and corrected Ezra. “No. Not an animal, he’s treating him like a slave. Not in Weeksville, you won’t! Untie him!”

Moses shifted his weight from left to right and tried to choose his words carefully. “You don’t understand…this boy is dangerous. Bit me on the arm. Threw rocks at me. This is the only safe way to bring him in.”

The growing crowd erupted with laughter and started passing comments of their own.

“How could such a cute ’lil thing do all that?”

“What do you mean, bring him in? Is he under arrest?”

“Let him go!”

“What kind o’ man are you?”

Ezra never shied away from humiliating his younger brother in public, but with this angry crowd, he stood by his brother’s side.

“Moses, tell them ’bout the crate.”

“Found him in a crate next to his dead mom. Almost chopped off my brother’s toes and bit me. Sure, he seems like a ’lil child, but he ain’t. Almost twelve and he’s the devil—through and through. He blames us for his mama’s death. Can’t let him go and can’t control him.” Venture stood with slumped shoulders and his head pointed to the ground. This man touched him for the second time in as many days and he had no right. Soon he would be untied and back in the woods. They’ll never catch me again and they’ll all pay.

The crowd didn’t accept any of Moses’s story and the group as a whole encircled the two brothers and the boy. Ezra took control. “All right, if you want him free, this is on all of you. My brother and I are trying to help, but if you want this ’lil devil runnin’ all over town hurting people and stealin’ things, that’s fine by us.” He turned, stared at the boy, and said, “You better not come ’round us. Go and bother these other folks who like you so much. I’m going to cut you loose.”

Ezra started to untie Venture, and the boy spotted a second knife on the side of the man’s pants. Almost loose, he thought, a plan forming. I’ll grab the knife, jab him in the leg, and head back into the woods. Ezra cut the rope and Venture put his plan into action, but when he reached for the knife, he felt the slap of a heavy hand on the back of his neck and fell to the ground. Ezra had realized the boy was trying to grab his knife and turned to the crowd and said, “I told all of you. This boy is Satan himself.” The townspeople had no reaction, and Ezra asked Moses, “Why the hell did you get me involved in this?”

Little brother responded, “What do you mean, why did I get you involved in this? You’re the one who sent me after him!”

“Moses, sometimes you’re so stupid. What am I going to do with you? Let’s go back to the camp.”

The two brothers continued to squabble as they walked away. Esther Washington, mother of two and wife of the town’s most successful shoemaker, stood over Venture and readied her heavy hand for another slap if the boy continued to misbehave. “So you’re a ’lil devil, are you?” She paused for a moment, expecting an answer from the child. None was offered, so she continued, “You’ll stop all of this nonsense and come with me.” Venture did what he was told, and became a polite, well-behaved young man—at least during the walk with Esther Washington to her home.

Once inside the house, Mrs. Washington took Venture into the kitchen, told him to sit, and began the slow process of filling the tub with warm water. Every time she added a bucket, she gave him another treat to eat. The boy’s belly was full by the time he stepped into the tub with his head rocking from side to side.

“My name is Esther Washington. My husband’s name is Thomas. He’s a shoemaker and we live in this here house with our two children: Horace, who’s fourteen, and Mabel, who’s sixteen.”

Esther waited for her guest to acknowledge what she’d said and supply some basic information in return, but received no response. The boy continued to rock in a steady rhythm and sat in the water, staring at the small boat Horace had played with years ago.

“You want Horace’s boat?” She got up and removed the boat from the shelf, placed it in the water, and detected the slightest smile emerging from the side of the boy’s mouth.

“What’s your name?”

“Venture.”

Esther smiled. “Venture, that’s interesting. Is there a story ’bout your name?”

Venture shrugged his shoulders in response.

“Do people call you Vent for short?”

He nodded his head and offered his first true smile. Esther enjoyed her slow but steady progress in breaking through. “Tell me about your family.”

The smile vanished. Esther tried again. “Vent, it’s okay. You can talk to me. Tell me about your family.”

Venture jumped out of the tub and threw the wooden ship against the wall, breaking it into pieces. He screamed, “They killed Mama and I’m going to kill them all,” as he grabbed his clothes, jumped out of the ground-floor window, and climbed the tree in the front yard of the house. He sat on one of the stronger limbs and continued mumbling a combination of threats about “getting everyone” and counting numbers in different patterns. First, he counted by twos, then threes, fours, and so on…always until he reached about one hundred, and then he started again with a different pattern. After a few of these counting sequences, he would issue another general threat to everyone he blamed for killing his mother. The mumbling/counting rant went on until six in the evening, when Esther put a covered plate of food out on the porch for him.

About fifteen minutes later, Esther detected some movement in the tree. A few years earlier, Horace had tried to climb this mammoth tree and he hugged the trunk for dear life as he made his way up to the next-highest branch he could grasp. Coming down was an even slower and more arduous process. Venture stood up on the highest branch and jumped onto a larger, but lower one, swung on the tree limb for a while to build momentum, and then flipped back up to a standing position on the branch. Esther studied Vent’s face and didn’t pick up even an inkling of fear or doubt—either the boy was the most confident person Esther had ever met or he didn’t care about getting hurt. Each movement made Esther more nervous, so she turned her back and returned a few minutes later. Venture finished his dinner while sitting on the stoop and then started another daredevil ascent up the tree.

At nine o’clock, Esther pulled up a chair next to the second-story window facing the tree. She stared at Vent and waited for him to make eye contact—as good a way as any to try and talk to the tormented child.

“Vent, what you been through must be bad and you not ready to talk ’bout it, but you can’t sleep in a tree. I see how you climb and I’m going to leave this window open. If you want to come into the house through this window, you can, but if you do, you will obey me and stop all of this ‘I’m going to get everyone’ talk. You got my family scared of you, and until you start to talk polite, I’m blockin’ the door to this bedroom on the outside. The window is gonna be your way in and out until you start talkin’ better to folks. That’s what I’m willin’ to do, so if you like it, come on in, but if you don’t, climb out of my tree and go on.” After leaving the room, Esther blocked the outside of the door with a nearby bureau—she meant what she said, her family was scared. This boy with the odd name wasn’t right.

After about another hour, Vent grabbed a nearby branch and swung onto the roof of the house before hanging over the ledge to come through the bedroom window. Esther heard the bump on the roof and realized the boy had accepted her offer. She smiled as she closed her eyes for the night.

Venture didn’t say much for the next few days and developed a daily routine, which involved more observing than participating. He enjoyed watching the Washingtons’ two children as they helped each other with their daily chores. They family, and family takes care of each other, he thought. Esther’s husband, Thomas, joked that Vent was more pure trouble pound for pound than anyone he’d ever met. Despite his small size, the rage in his eyes never diminished and Thomas, in particular, worried what would happen when he erupted.

Mabel was the first family member other than Esther to break through to Vent. After a number of days in the household, Vent started spending time with her in the back of the house as she tended to the garden. After Mabel finished her daily work, she and Vent sat on a blanket spread over a patch of grass. Esther always assumed they talked and only became silent when she walked by.

“Mabel, what do you and Vent talk ’bout in the garden?”

“We don’t talk much, Mama. First, I do my work, and then I lay out the blanket for our army game. We make soldiers out of twigs and we fight battles.”

“Never expected army games. Who wins?”

“Always the North against the South. He always gets to be the North and I always let him win. When the war is over, I talk like I’m President Lincoln and free all the Southern slaves. That’s when he asks me the same odd question.”

“What question?”

“He says, ‘Even the ones in the woods in Virginia?’”

“What’s your answer?”

“At first, I just said yes and he smiled, and then when I said things like, absolutely, he smiled even more. So I mostly say, absolutely.”

“Well, I guess we know where Vent and his family are from.”

“Guess so, Mama.”

“What else do you do?”

“Main thing with Vent is everything needs to be done in the right order. Once I laid out the blanket before I finished my work, and he got mad and ran off. Never did that again. After the army game, he sits and makes shapes with rocks—squares, circles, triangles, and rectangles, but that game is only for him. I’m not allowed to touch anything, so I don’t.”

“That’s it, he plays games of army and puts rocks in different shapes, but doesn’t say anythin’ about what happened to him?”

“He says he’s gonna get the people who killed his mama and when I told him that scared me, he seemed surprised and said nothing bad like what happened to him would ever happen to me.”

“You got yourself a little protector, Mabel. Should be a good thing. How’s Vent doing with Horace?”

“Don’t think Horace pays him no mind, he’s always runnin’ in and out with all his girlfriends. You know that boy loves himself and stares into the mirror Daddy got last month. He takes it into his room and admires hisself—thinks he’s the most handsome boy in the world. Unless Vent wants to hold the mirror, don’t think Horace has no use for him!”

“Don’t you go makin’ fun of your brother. You know he’s a good-lookin’ boy and so smart too—he gonna do big things in his life. Worried about all the girls, though, ’cause he too young for such nonsense, but I wish he’d try to at least help Vent make some friends. Horace should take him ’round to meet other chidr’n.”

“He might, Mama, but Vent only talks a little bit—just to you and me, and he doesn’t like to be around lots of other people. Horace ain’t said more than a few words to Vent. Could be afraid of him. I don’t know. Better ask him.”

“Fair, enough, Mabel. I might hold the mirror for him, so we can have a good long talk!”

Mabel laughed as she responded, “Might be the only way!”

The next day, Mabel ran into the house after spending time with Vent out back, and called out to her mother, “Mama, Vent is going to hurt Alex. Better come fast.”

Esther Washington rushed out the back of her house and found Vent on top of an older teenage boy, who pleaded through sobs and tears for mercy, “I’m sorry! I’ll never do it again…never say nothin’ to her again. I promise. Let me go.”

Vent sat on top of the boy, waving a rock over his face with his right hand. Esther screamed, “Vent, you put that rock down and let Alex go!” Vent was confused. The boy threatened Mabel, so he had to be punished, but Vent listened to Miss Esther, and she said stop. He didn’t know what to do. Alex noticed Vent’s temporary loss of focus, slipped out from under, and ran away. Esther thought, Time for a talk with Venture.

“Vent, put down the rock, and come sit with me. Mabel, you go on inside.”

He did as instructed and sat, head down, in one of the two chairs on either side of the back door to the Washington’s house.

“Vent, were you going to hit Alex with that rock? What happened?”

Vent started mumbling, “I’m gonna get everyone who killed Mama, two, four, six, eight…”

Esther waited a few minutes because she understood no answers of substance could be obtained when Vent was in this condition. She called for Mabel, who stepped out from inside the house.

“Mabel, what happened?”

“Vent and me were sitting in the backyard and Alex came by and asked, ‘Why you spendin’ time with the crazy boy?’”

“So is that what got Vent angry?”

“No, didn’t bother him at all, he stayed quiet. I told Alex Vent wasn’t crazy, and he yelled back that I should be careful ’cause crazy rubs off. Vent still didn’t do nothing, but then Alex threw a rock. Guess’n he wanted to hit Vent, but it almost hit me. The rock made Vent angry, ’cause he tells me, every day, no one ever gonna hurt me. Vent ran after Alex and I came inside for you.”

“Okay, Mabel, I understand. Go back inside.”

Vent was still counting and mumbling, “Four, eight, twelve, sixteen, twenty…” but Esther thought he’d calmed down enough to listen.

“Vent, I like you lookin’ out for my chidr’n, but you went through something bad, and I don’t think you can tell the difference between real bad things and something that’s only a little bad. The boy you beat up, Alex, always comes ’round here. He’s a little sweet on Mabel—must have been jealous of you—no reason to bash someone’s head in, but you didn’t understand him the right way. So this here is what we’re going to do: if any of us gets hurt, and we tell you we need you to go and protect us, that’s the only time you do it. We family now, but you got to be asked. You understand, Vent? That gonna be the rule. Tell me you understand, Vent.”

The mumbling stopped. The rule made sense. “Yes, Miss Esther, sorry ’bout what I did.”

“Okay, I’m gonna go over and ’splain to Alex’s mother what happened, but remember the rule, ’cause if this happens again, folks won’t want you stayin’ with us in Weeksville no more, and you part of the family now. So go on, I’ll take care of this.”

Vent walked away and went back to sit in the garden. Mabel joined him but didn’t start any conversations. He’d calmed down and they sat quietly. Vent broke the silence with a smile—the biggest and most sustained grin Mabel had ever seen. Finally, he said, “Miss Esther told me I part of the family now.”

“Vent, you been part of the family since the first day you climbed into your room from the tree. You didn’t know that?”

“No. Thought I’d have to leave.”

“You’ll never have to leave. Family is forever, Vent.”

Vent started to cry and Mabel realized her mistake. She put her arm around him and rocked gently. He never explained about his family and maybe he never would, but there was no doubt he loved them. Vent ceased to be the crazy boy who jumped out of the crate—he was her new brother, valiant protector, and more than anything, a welcome addition to her family.