three sheets of printed paper, folded in half. I sat down to look at them.
“Who the jumpin’ Jehoshaphat is Nancy ?” I said.
----
N ancy was a mess of failure and sin. When she was ten years old, she went outside to play and saw her friend Mary’s new puppy, Cupcake, nosing around at the end of the driveway. Other than her and Cupcake, the yard was empty.
Nancy stooped down and patted her legs. “Come here Cupcake. Come on.”
Cupcake was a tiny little beagle, clumsy and cute. Nancy’s dad wouldn’t let her have a dog, even though her brother got a kitten for his birthday. And that’s why Nancy stood up and walked down the road with Cupcake following behind her.
Every once in a while, Cupcake would stop and look back curiously, as if sensing something wasn’t quite right about the excursion. Every time he stopped, Nancy would pat her knees and say, “Come on Cupcake, just a little farther.”
Cupcake made it about a mile before he sat down on the side of the road, too pooped to keep going.
Nancy didn’t want to touch the puppy, so she walked a little ways off the road to where Atherton Farm began and called him with more energy than she’d used all the other times: “Come on Cupcake! Come on boy! Let’s go Cupcake, come on!”
She patted her knees even harder.
Cupcake got up one last time and followed her to the fence, where she picked him up and carried him through the barbed wire. Nancy was able to coax him about five hundred feet through the cotton field before Cupcake lay down again.
There was a great big bunch of rocks out in the middle of Mr. Atherton’s field. Everybody said it was a graveyard, and Nancy had always been too afraid to go near it. That day, she conquered her fear and carried Cupcake deep into the rocks, then left him at the edge of an old sinkhole in the middle of it.
Satisfied they were far enough away, Nancy went home.
Though all the children were called together to search for the little beagle, Mary never found him. Everyone praised Nancy for yelling the loudest and searching the longest that day.
As time wore on, Nancy began to rethink what she’d done. She hoped with everything in her that Cupcake had found his way back to the road and gotten picked up by someone driving by. In her heart, though, she knew that hadn’t happened. He was just a little guy, alone next to a hole with predators and cold nights and no food. Still, she never went back to check on him. She knew it was hopeless, and she just wanted to forget.
But she couldn’t.
With every year that passed, Nancy hated herself more and more for what she’d done. She began to eat and sleep and not much else, and she never left the house unless her dad threw her out. When she started high school, everyone called her fat and ugly and treated her the way she felt she deserved: as repulsive on the outside as she felt on the inside.
Bill was the worst of them. Always the first to start on her when the teacher wasn’t paying attention. Always keeping it interesting enough that the other kids joined in. And Nancy didn’t help matters by bottling it up and taking it, even laughing along with them sometimes when it got too vicious. Hoping for a little reprieve, even though she didn’t deserve it.
Three years later, after hitting her growth spurt and losing the weight, that same vicious Bill asked her out to the prom. She couldn’t believe it—he didn’t even recognize her! Had no idea who she was, just that she looked good enough for him to ask out.
Nancy said yes .
All night, through one dance after another, she kept waiting for that delicious moment when he learned she was the same little spud he’d spewed his venom on for a solid year, nearly bringing her to kill herself rather than face another day of it. But he hadn’t recognized her. That night at the prom he’d been very nice. Almost like a whole different Bill.
Not a week into their marriage, she learned the truth. Bill was still as vicious as
“Who the jumpin’ Jehoshaphat is Nancy ?” I said.
----
N ancy was a mess of failure and sin. When she was ten years old, she went outside to play and saw her friend Mary’s new puppy, Cupcake, nosing around at the end of the driveway. Other than her and Cupcake, the yard was empty.
Nancy stooped down and patted her legs. “Come here Cupcake. Come on.”
Cupcake was a tiny little beagle, clumsy and cute. Nancy’s dad wouldn’t let her have a dog, even though her brother got a kitten for his birthday. And that’s why Nancy stood up and walked down the road with Cupcake following behind her.
Every once in a while, Cupcake would stop and look back curiously, as if sensing something wasn’t quite right about the excursion. Every time he stopped, Nancy would pat her knees and say, “Come on Cupcake, just a little farther.”
Cupcake made it about a mile before he sat down on the side of the road, too pooped to keep going.
Nancy didn’t want to touch the puppy, so she walked a little ways off the road to where Atherton Farm began and called him with more energy than she’d used all the other times: “Come on Cupcake! Come on boy! Let’s go Cupcake, come on!”
She patted her knees even harder.
Cupcake got up one last time and followed her to the fence, where she picked him up and carried him through the barbed wire. Nancy was able to coax him about five hundred feet through the cotton field before Cupcake lay down again.
There was a great big bunch of rocks out in the middle of Mr. Atherton’s field. Everybody said it was a graveyard, and Nancy had always been too afraid to go near it. That day, she conquered her fear and carried Cupcake deep into the rocks, then left him at the edge of an old sinkhole in the middle of it.
Satisfied they were far enough away, Nancy went home.
Though all the children were called together to search for the little beagle, Mary never found him. Everyone praised Nancy for yelling the loudest and searching the longest that day.
As time wore on, Nancy began to rethink what she’d done. She hoped with everything in her that Cupcake had found his way back to the road and gotten picked up by someone driving by. In her heart, though, she knew that hadn’t happened. He was just a little guy, alone next to a hole with predators and cold nights and no food. Still, she never went back to check on him. She knew it was hopeless, and she just wanted to forget.
But she couldn’t.
With every year that passed, Nancy hated herself more and more for what she’d done. She began to eat and sleep and not much else, and she never left the house unless her dad threw her out. When she started high school, everyone called her fat and ugly and treated her the way she felt she deserved: as repulsive on the outside as she felt on the inside.
Bill was the worst of them. Always the first to start on her when the teacher wasn’t paying attention. Always keeping it interesting enough that the other kids joined in. And Nancy didn’t help matters by bottling it up and taking it, even laughing along with them sometimes when it got too vicious. Hoping for a little reprieve, even though she didn’t deserve it.
Three years later, after hitting her growth spurt and losing the weight, that same vicious Bill asked her out to the prom. She couldn’t believe it—he didn’t even recognize her! Had no idea who she was, just that she looked good enough for him to ask out.
Nancy said yes .
All night, through one dance after another, she kept waiting for that delicious moment when he learned she was the same little spud he’d spewed his venom on for a solid year, nearly bringing her to kill herself rather than face another day of it. But he hadn’t recognized her. That night at the prom he’d been very nice. Almost like a whole different Bill.
Not a week into their marriage, she learned the truth. Bill was still as vicious as
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