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"Dream Mountain"

CHAPTER 1

At night I never could seem to tear myself away from viewing the beautiful mountains that surrounded my home. The sounds of the countryside were so uplifting. The crickets chirped almost continuously and you could hear the owls from a distance playing their own little melody of the wild. It was hypnotizing to the soul. At least that's the way I always looked at it. I don't know. Maybe it's the way the trees looked all clustered together like they were just running into one another. Or maybe the white tops of the mountains helped keep my focus on things. Neither here nor there, it was my place. It was my dream mountain.

"Elizabeth Ann. What'cha doin' out there darlin'. It's gettin' chilly out. Ya best come in and get ready for bed before the mesquitos try to eat ya up. And you know they will," Ma said.

Glancing out once more, I answered,"Comin' Ma. Be there in a minute."

Stepping off the front steps of our small, rundown, four room shack we called home, I closed my eyes and pretended I was dressed in a beautiful, white, lacy evening gown, walking down a huge winding staircase. The breeze brushing across my cheeks was soothing and almost went clear through my body, taking me away to how I wished things were. I was tired of being a poor country girl. That's why I let my dreams wander. It was the only thing that made me smile-the hope that one day those dreams just might come true. Then I heard Ma yell for me again, "Lizzy get in this house. Now you know how I hate to tell ya somethin' twice."

Hesitating no more, I quickly ran inside to join the rest of the family. Pa was sitting on the couch with a beer in one hand and a cigar in the other, while Douglas, my youngest brother, was begging to go out. It was almost like I could hear the fight coming. It was a constant battle between them two. One minute things would be so calm, and the next, them two would be at it again.

Then there was Luther, my other brother. He was sitting in the corner of the room trying to ignore the bickering going on between Pa and Douglas. Him and Douglas were nothing alike. In fact, if you ask me, it's hard to believe them two were even related. Douglas was wild as a march hair, and Luther was the quiet intellectual type, if you know what I mean. He read all the time and spent most his weekends writing short stories and poetry and stuff like that-a bookworm I guess you could say. To be honest, Luther was probably the most sane one in the family--next to me that is. We always seem to relate to one another in a strange sort of way. Maybe we were both dreamers. And maybe we knew deep down inside that if we stuck together, we'd get a lot further in life than trying to figure things out all alone. So that's what we did-stuck together.

With all the commotion going on, I started to my room, well, I guess you could say it was my room. I shared it with my two brothers and my sister Betty Jean. Douglas was a little hard to live with-always making crazy noises every night just to annoy us, but Betty Jean, Luther and I, were kind of alike. Betty Jean was probably most like me. She was a year older than me. She had graduated the year before and she worked every day after that as a car hop at a local burger place so she could go off to college. She didn't really know what she wanted to do with her life at the time, but she used to tell me constantly, "I'm not gonna live with Ma and Pa forever. I'm gonna be somebody one day Lizzy...not just some ole' country girl with no money, no education to speak of, and just a plain nobody." And I believed her. I had no reason not to. Her confidence was inspiring. I knew she'd never give up on her dream just like I knew I'd never give up on mine.

I always envied her. She had brains, no doubt, and her looks didn't hurt none either when it came down to getting what she wanted. Her hair was golden as pure honey, and those eyes of hers attracted boys from here to yonder. I never did understand how she did it. She never tried to get anyone's attention, but she didn't have to. People always seemed to notice her no matter what. I always seemed to be the one who was literally invisible. Maybe that was one of my biggest worries. Popularity never meant that much to me, but at the same time, every once in a while, it would've been nice to be noticed. My confidence, unlike Betty Jean's, was certainly lacking. That's why I so enjoyed having long talks with her. Somehow it gave me a feel of belonging, as if someone really needed me. Well, Betty Jean needed me, even if no one else did. That meant a lot to me, more than she ever really knew. She was my sister, but more importantly, she was my friend.

"You look like you're in another world Lizzy. You day dreamin' again?" Betty Jean said, snapping her fingers in front of my face to get my attention.

I guess I didn't see her sitting on our bed in the corner of the room. She was being so quiet I assumed she was out for the night. She usually was, anyway.

Answering, "Guess I was. You know me Betty Jean. Ma made me come inside, but I sure don't know why. It was a heck of a lot more peaceful out there under the stars. All this arguin' is 'bout to get to me. Pa and Douglas need a boxin' ring outside in the yard if they're gonna keep on with this feud they got goin' on. I don't know how Ma puts up with it. She never says a word. She's got more patience than a one eyed dog with three broke legs."

"Yeah. But you know Douglas and Pa love each other. Even though they got a funny way of showin' it sometimes. But they do. Ya know, I think I know what makes 'em fight so much."

Curiously, I asked, "What do ya figure?"

"Well," she said. "I think they're just too dog gone much alike if you ask me. They're both more stubborn than a two headed mule. You know that. And ain't neither one of 'em gonna say he's wrong, no sir. Why, they'll probably never stop bickerin', them two. Lizzy, that's the only time they ever talk. You gotta learn somethin' 'bout men little sister. They got their own ways about 'em. And Heaven forbid them to act like they got any sense atoll."

Looking up at her, I couldn't help but laugh. We both laughed so hard, I swear I could feel a tear a two rolling down my slender cheeks. Her sense of humor was hard to find at times, but ever so often, a joke or two would poke its head out and surprise us all. She always seemed to make me laugh just when I needed it most.

Betty Jean got up and started getting ready for bed while I just sat there and looked around the room as I did every night before I went to bed. The walls in our room were a grayish color, even though they started off white. It had been a long time since Pa painted the inside or the outside of the house because we just didn't have the money. So they continued looking dirty and worn. Then there was the place we hung our clothes up. Pa had hung a string from one corner of our room to the other above both mine and my sister's bed, and Luther and Douglas' bed. You can probably guess we didn't have many clothes to speak of. Either we wore hand me downs, yard sale clothes, or Ma made what we wore. I don't remember ever going to a store and buying something. Store bought clothes was a luxury none of us had the privilege of having. Sometimes I'd borrow Luther's old faded cut-off shorts and one of pa's work T-shirts. It was comfortable. I can say that much anyway. But we made it alright.

Over in the corner of the room were four sets of growth marks from all of us kids. Ma could tell you how tall each one of us were from the time we were born until she thought we were too old to be measured anymore. Those marks were etched into that wall like Godly scriptures carved into stone. Sometimes I wondered if Ma didn't look at those marks ever so often and just think back, travel in her own mind to when we were little. She was funny that way. I guess that was where I got all my dreaming and wondering from. I knew it couldn't have come from Pa.

And there was one thing I couldn't forget. We had hard wood floors all through the house. About the middle of our bedroom floor, there was a spot that creaked every time you would step on it. It didn't bother me at all, but it sure did make Douglas have fits every once in a while. You can probably guess why. He used to try and sneak out after Ma and Pa had gone to bed I don't know how many times, but never was a big success at it. One little creak and Pa would hop out of bed like a Jack Rabbit with his behind on fire, just to find out who was up. And of course, it was Douglas. I can't count how many times Pa caught him trying to sneak out after he had done been told he couldn't go anywhere. It always gave me a little satisfaction watching him get into trouble because neither me or Betty Jean were allowed to go out at his age. He was fifteen years old, but his mentality was that of a five year old. In other words, trying to get to sleep at night was a little difficult. I guess the one thing that always helped me through all the commotion and noise, more than anything, was leaving our window open every night. The breeze floating in our room from the mountain air outside, was comforting. Not only that, the sounds of the night were like soft lullabies Ma used to sing to me when I was a little girl. The combination of the chirping crickets, the whistling wind, the rustling of the leaves, and the hooting of the owls, all came together. And before it was over, it sounded like an orchestra created by nature-God's creatures of the wild. There was nothing else like it in the world. That sound was all I needed to get a heavenly nights sleep every night.

After staring at each detail of our room, I heard Douglas and his annoying high pitched voice coming closer and closer. And I knew I had best get ready for bed and ignore him, so when we all got in bed, maybe, for once, he would have the sense enough to keep his mouth shut and go to sleep. Though there never was much chance of that, it never hurt to dream. That was how I looked at it.

I pulled off my old cut-off shorts and crawled carefully into bed. Betty Jean was stretched out and looked more at ease than I had seen her in a long time. Her mouth was wide open and she was breathing louder and louder. When I thought she was just about to start snoring, as she did every night, Douglas pulled back the sheet that separated our room from Ma and Pa's.

"Hey sissy. What'cha doin'? I know ya'll ain't wantin' to go to bed already. It's still early," he said with a smirk that only he could make.

Rolling over, Betty Jean retorted groggily, "Go to bed Douglas. I'm tired and I don't feel like listening to any of your childish remarks tonight."

"Come on sis." he replied, "It's summertime. Ya know I get like this durin' the summer. I should be out on the town drinkin', hangin' out with my friends, chasin' good-lookin' chics or somethin'. God didn't mean for me to sit around like a bump on a log."

"You're gonna have a bump on your head if ya don't shut up and go to sleep." she said in a snappy voice.

"I'm not a baby anymore Betty Jean. I'm almost grown. I'm fifteen years old now sis."

"Yeah." she replied, "goin' on two and half. Now go to bed before I get disgusted and tell Pa you ain't doin' like he told you to. You know how Pa gets when you ain't wantin' to mind what he says."

Shaking his head, he mumbled under his breathe, "Yeah, yeah. Tell Pa. I don't care."

Betty Jean sat up, "What was that little brother?"