The Devil's Beating His Wife by Siobhán Béabhar

Author:Siobhán Béabhar [Béabhar, Siobhán]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Women's Fiction, Contemporary Women, Romance, Military, Multicultural, New Adult & College, Paranormal, Contemporary Fiction, Historical, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Multicultural & Interracial, Ghosts
Amazon: B00SBVICOQ
Publisher: The NegRoll Herald
Published: 2015-01-15T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

October 30, 1970, Laurens County

As was my habit, I stood in the corner watching the interactions of the family. I liked to imagine that I was part of the scene. That I was a living, breathing person.

"Do you like my costume, Daddy?" asked Abby as she spun in a circle. She held out the edges of the white sheet, keeping the unhemmed edges off the ground.

Ronnie laughed as he ran his fingers through his daughter's blond hair. "Are you some kind of witch, baby girl?" he asked, a touch of humor in his voice.

"Ow!" the child yelped when her mother accidentally stuck a pin into her daughter's leg.

Lily removed the pins from her mouth and glared at her daughter. With a snap of her fingers, she stopped the girl's fidgeting. "If you would keep still long enough, I can finish pinning the hem." She ran her fingers along the edge of the dress. A spot on the white cloth was darkened by dust. Lily lifted the cloth and said, "See what you've done? You got it dirty. Take it off."

"But you said that I could try it on," the girl whined.

Lily swatted the girl's behind. The impact wasn't hard or harsh. It was just enough to quiet the young girl. "Off now, Abby."

The girl's head dropped to her chest as she stomped out of the living room and entered her bedroom. I followed behind the girl, removing myself from Ronnie's presence. Baxter remained, standing guard as usual.

"She never lets me have fun," the girl muttered.

I sat down on the bed and watched as Abby tossed the costume over her head and hurled it into the corner. "That's no way to treat your dress," I said.

The girl walked to the corner and grabbed the costume from the floor. She grasped the shoulders in her hands. "I don't see any dirt."

"It's all around the bottom where you let it drag," I said out loud. "Your mama was right in not letting you keep it on. It would be all black by the time Halloween rolled around. You're mama put a lot of effort into making that for you."

Abby's arms lowered. "I should have been a witch, after all. I could have worn all black, then I wouldn't have mama yelling at me for getting it dirty."

For the last few days, the woman had slaved over the gown. At first, I thought the mama had been making them white hooded sheets that the Klan wears around these parts, but then I noticed a pretty little gown take shape. "What is it supposed to be, anyway?"

Abby turned towards me with an exasperated look. "I'm going to be a ghost, silly."

That knocked the wind right out of me. "Why in the world would you want to be a ghost?"

"I want to be just like you and Baxter," she said, full of innocence.

I tried really hard to stifle my laugh, but it made its way out. "Lord, child, you don't want that."

"Why not?"

"Because we're dead. You don't want to be dead.

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