Ties That Bind by Debbie White Read Free Book Online Page B

of them and ringing its neck so we could have it for supper. I didn’t want to eat any of it. I remembered everything about that bird. They all laughed at me and thought I was a crybaby.
    What I really remember was how my mother was able to kill that poor chicken with such ease. Of course, as I grew into an adult, I realized that many farmers do the same thing. It’s called survival and farming. I guess even though I was raised in a rural area, I really was a city girl at heart.

Chapter Nine
     
     
    As planned, we made a trip to the telephone company and the cable company. Afterward, we went and had lunch. Charles said it was a good way to get to know our surroundings. I felt I already knew my way around, but Charles didn’t.
    We ordered sandwiches and fries and sipped on freshly brewed iced tea. As we ate, we went over our strategy regarding the search for information about my parents.
    We agreed the first thing we’d do is go to the old neighborhood where the pool hall was. We’d lived in a few places in that town so we’d check them all out. Charles wanted to drive by the farm where my aunt and uncle lived too. We’d looked up my maiden name in the telephone book and saw several families with the name. Charles said we’d do some cold calling. I was a little afraid of that, but I followed his lead.
    As Charles made his way around town and toward the location of the pool hall, I recalled another memory. Next door was another building and upstairs was a dance hall. On the weekend, my parents and their friends, with kids in tow, would go there. As the parents danced, we children would sit around and play jacks, and watch our parents laugh and be loud. I wondered if the old building was still there.
    As we approached the address where the pool hall was, Charles slowly drove by checking his map and notes to make sure we were in the right place. Everything looked different than I remembered it.
    “Is this the lot?” I asked looking back to the Seven-Eleven gas station as he kept driving.
    “Yes, I believe so,” he said making a U-turn and heading back to the gas station. He pulled into the parking lot and parked the car.
    I immediately got out and looked around as if to get my bearings of where I was. Nothing looked the same. I closed my eyes and tried to picture the placement of our apartment, and the building next door to us.
    I attempted to recall what was across the street and down the block. I remembered the large hill that was behind my house that we used to go sleigh riding on. I walked briskly to the other side of the gas station to see it. It was there but didn’t appear as big as I’d remembered it. Children always remember things bigger I suppose.
    Across the street, where my wealthy friend, Lisa lived was now an apartment building.
    “They tore everything down,” I said sadly.
    “That’s progress for you,” Charles muttered as he reached out to take my hand.
    A tear formed in my eye and I brushed it away. It was too soon for tears. We’d only just started the search.
    We drove out to the last address I had for Uncle George and Aunt Toot’s farmhouse. There among rows of corn stood an old farmhouse. Paint peeling from the boards, and a front porch that had seen better days, the old farmhouse was much smaller than I remembered. Surrounding the farmhouse were stalks of corn, and other vegetables growing, and in the distance, a fenced in area for the pigs and other livestock. This was a real working farm.
    We drove up to the front of the house and got out of the car. Before either of us could step foot onto the porch, the screen door flew open and a woman about my age wearing an apron greeted us.
    “Hello,” I stammered.
    She stood stone cold looking at us.
    “Hi, wondered if you could help us. We’re looking for some folks,” Charles said.
    “Who might that be?” She asked suspiciously.
    Charles looked at me, and then he directed his attention back to the woman on the porch. “The