Poppies
“Do you have a boyfriend, Mara-Joy?” Joanna asked mildly as she walked beside her sister.
“I have many boyfriends and always have,” Mara-Joy snorted, looking forward without glancing at the slouched figure beside her.
The sky was gray and threatened rain. Pauline and Alan-Michael walked slowly behind the two older girls.
“Oh,” sighed Joanna, unaware of her response, “it must be heaven . . .”
As much as she hated herself for it, Joanna envied her older sister. Mara-Joy was beautiful and had so many friends. Whereas she felt ugly and her only companions were her younger sisters, Constance and Pauline. Every time she became friends with someone, Mara-Joy would charm them away somehow.
She couldn’t compete with Mara-Joy. Once someone met her, they were instantly drawn to the dark-haired enchantress like a fly to sugar. They had to know her and needed to be with her. She was a natural magnet to people and it had always been that way.
“It sure beats hell,” Mara-Joy laughed, suddenly twirling around, making her dress fly high above her tiny waist, exposing her pink frilly panties. “Why?” she stopped, suddenly looking at Joanna. All the old buildings seemed to glare down on them, accusingly. It was dreary out, but Mara-Joy was happy, radiant in fact.
Joanna stood still, her eyes concentrating on the dirty surface of the pavement.
“Do you want a boyfriend, my little sister?” Mara-Joy smirked, considering her sister.
“Yes,” Joanna remarked shyly. Boys had begun to be of interest to the young girl. She couldn’t help herself. She wished boys would pay just half the attention to her that they did to Mara-Joy.
“Is that so?” Mara-Joy piped in, “Isn’t that sweet, little Joanna wants a beau.”
Joanna’s head snapped up, and her eyes squinted in anger.
“Why is that so hard to believe, Mara-Joy? Is it so hard to think that maybe other people have interests that don’t involve you?” Joanna belted out, unexpectedly.
Mara-Joy stood with her mouth gaping open, taken back. Joanna was always so defensive with her. Ready to attack when ever Mara-Joy opened her mouth.
“What on earth are you talking about? Joanna, I swear you are getting weirder and weirder all the time. You definitely won’t be catching any men with that pissy frame of mind. And trust me, you are going to need everything you’ve got as it is!” Mara-Joy responded without breaking into a sweat. The little twit wasn’t going to get the best of her.
Joanna felt her face flush red. She had done it again and walked right into sister’s hands.
“Well, we can’t all be Mama’s favorite now, can we?” Joanna burst out and began to walk away coldly, leaving Mara-Joy standing alone smirking.
“Oh come on! Quit being such a baby,” Mara-Joy yelled, running after Joanna. She reached out and grabbed her arm, swinging Joanna around to face her. Green angry eyes clashed with cold icy blue ones. Neither girl said a word as they surveyed each another.
Alan-Michael saw the two girls braced for combat and ran forward to stop whatever was about to happen next. History had proven to him that once Mara-Joy and Joanna started to fight, it would be very hard to stop them. His thoughts jumbled, he ran full speed ahead, collided with Joanna and fell hard on the ground like a sack of potatoes. Pauline, unaware of anything going on, walked blindly into Alan-Michael and stumbled over him. Joanna caught her in time before she fell face-first onto their shrieking brother, whose painful cries filled the air.
“See what you have done!” Mara-Joy bellowed, tossing her long curly hair out of her blazing eyes.
“Me?” Joanna thundered, holding Pauline tight to her heaving chest.
“Yes, you! If you hadn’t said that horrible thing about Mama, none of this would have happened,” Mara-Joy said furiously. She felt hot tears well up in her eyes, but didn’t bother wiping them away.
Joanna wanted to scream. Even when she was crying she looked beautiful. More so it seemed.
Why? She screamed in her head. Why is Mara-Joy so exquisite while I am so unbecoming?
She shook her head and looked to the whimpering Alan-Michael: the boy her mother always wanted. His little knees were all scraped up, raw and bleeding.
“I’ll take him home,” Joanna said, lifting the burly six-year-old boy up.
“Oh no, you won’t. I will,” Mara-Joy stormed. She grabbed Alan-Michael’s arm from Joanna, forming a tug-of-war, the child caught in the middle. “I don’t want you near my baby brother. You’re too much of an animal!” She gave a good yank and felt Joanna release her grip on Alan-Michael’s other arm. Mara-Joy hiked the husky boy into her arms as he continued to howl in her ear. Over her shoulder she stuck out her tongue at Joanna.
Alan-Michael continued to scream heartily as Mara-Joy struggled to carry him home.
“That mindless little bitch. “Mara -Joy fumed, patting Alan-Michael’s back.
Snot ran down his nose and he began to breathe heavily between wails. She placed him down on the ground and grabbed the sleeve of his sweater, wiping the mess from his nose, leaving a line of slime across his freshly cleaned sleeve.
“I can just imagine the lies she would tell Mama if she’d brought you home,” Mara-Joy seethed between clenched teeth. With red-rimmed eyes Alan-Michael observed his sister. His wails turned to whimpering hiccups. He loved Mara-Joy—he adored her.
“What you going to do, Sissy?” he sniffed. His knees stung and he felt like crying again as he walked quickly beside Mara-Joy, clutching her hand obediently.
“Oh, don’t you worry baby brother, I will get her for what she said,” Mara-Joy said as she smiled at the small boy. His green eyes, similar to his other siblings’, twinkled admiringly at her.
Joanna and Pauline stood silently together, staring after Mara-Joy and Alan-Michael. Joanna felt like screaming as she watched Mara-Joy’s perfect body struggle to carry the thickset little boy. Mara-Joy’s black hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back in a luscious mane. Alan-Michael’s straight, thick, brown hair flickered with every bounce of Mara-Joy’s step.
How different Mara-Joy looked compared to the rest of them. Joanna, Constance, Pauline and Alan-Michael all looked similar to each other. Joanna and Alan-Michael had light brown hair, just like their mother. Constance was a pale, soft-curled blonde, just like the grandmother she was named for. Her mother said she was the image of the original Constance. Pauline had golden-flecked brown hair like their father. They all had the same strange eyes as him, a trademark from Alan their mother said, that dominated their faces. Joanna, Constance and Pauline had their mother’s thin figure. Whereas Alan-Michael took after their father‘s stocky, strong build.
The four younger children of Alan and Jobeth had a unique look to each of them, but all resembled both of their parents a little. All of them except
Mara-Joy. Mara-Joy with her black, curly hair and her penetrating blue eyes resembled none of them.
Joanna’s stomach began to flip-flop as she remembered the conversation that could not help but haunt her: the conversation she overheard the night Uncle
Oliver and Aunt Shawna had left after getting married, when she listened secretly by the window. She couldn’t remember everything clearly, but she did remember a woman’s name.
Tamara.
Tamara had a baby. A baby with Oliver. A baby Mama and Pappy felt they deserved. She also remembered a few years later how Uncle Carter had mistaken Mara-Joy for Uncle Oliver’s daughter.
She felt very confused as she always did when thinking of these events.
There was something strange about her family, but Joanna was afraid to place her finger on it. If what she had pieced together was true, her whole life was a lie and her mother’s behavior toward her even more of a cruel mystery.
“Joanna, let’s go or we’ll be late for school,” Pauline interrupted, pulling on Joanna’s shirt. She stood patiently waiting as Joanna was off in another world.
“Sorry, Pauline,” Joanna said to her eight-ye
ar-old sister. She began walking quickly, clutching her books tightly to her chest.
“I have to find out the truth,” she whispered to herself, ignoring Pauline running beside her. “If it is the last thing I do.”
Chapter 24 —