Fannie Ruth is a lovely mom and wife that stood on the dock of Conn Brown Harbor in Aranss Pass, TX and watched her husband sail his shrimp boat – The Fannie Ruth – into the morning sunrise.
She was a lovely person and had lots of friends. Sissy and Charlie David were such loyal friends. They stood by her through thick and thin. Could this lovely black-haired, blue-eyed Ruth actually plan and blow up her husband’s boat to kill him and collect his insurance? Lovely sweet wife and mom, or sullen, sly, vixen? Fannie Ruth was that woman.
Chapter 1
In Southern Mobile, Alabama. A six year old girl is playing hop scotch on the sidewalk in front of a plain white plank house. The house is in bad need of a good paint job. It had two bedrooms. It also had a front porch that ran all the way across the front of the house.
“A tisket, a tasket, there’s yellow flowers in my basket,” sang Fannie Ruth as she hopped in the hop scotch that was drawn in white chalk on the sidewalk.
“Come play hop scotch with me, Brandon,” she called to him as she made another hop.
Brandon Tilley was her older brother, who was sitting on the front porch.
“No, that’s a sissy game,” replied Brandon.
“You fucker, you had better come play with me,” shouted Fannie Ruth.
Standing in the front door, Mary Tilley, called out:
“Fannie Ruth, you watch that nasty mouth, I’ll wash it out with dish soap.”
I and my brother Brandon live here with my mother-Mary Tilley. Our father, Frank Tilley, had left us a couple of years earlier.
Mary Tilley had managed so far by working at a clothing factory that manufactured clothes for kids up to fourteen years old. Brandon was twelve years old. He took care of me while Mary was at work. During school this year we would both be going.
Mary Tilley lived a few blocks from a loading dock. The freight train would stop to deliver or pick up merchandise. If Mary did not watch us close enough, we would sneak off and go down to the train dock to watch them load and unload.
Sometimes there would be strangers that had hitched a ride on the freight train. Just plain drifters. They were Hobos. They usually didn’t have much tocarry with them. Maybe a sack or a small tote bag.
A few years passed and Brandon was a senior in the local Mobile High School. I was a freshman. I was well developed for my age. The boys usually got a charge out of me. But no wonder. I wore tight fitting pants and tight fitting sweaters. I was a real tease and flirt. Sometimes I wore a bright red silk dress that I had come across at some time or another. I had two inch red pumps to go with it. It became well known around school that I was easy.
Currently there are no comments related to "Fannie Ruth". You have a special honor to be the first commenter. Thanks!
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!
