BITTER FRUIT

BITTER FRUIT

Nittie Palmer had a rough upbringing.  The eighth of nine children, her father, “pawpaw,” bailed when Nittie was three.  Her mother, “mawmaw,” would have as well, except that she had at least an ounce of parental responsibility in her.  The checks that came in every month from child welfare didn’t hurt either. 

Nittie couldn’t wait to follow her brothers and sister into school.  The consolidated school in their rural Appalachian community was about the only place the children could go in the winter and be guaranteed a warm place to be.  On the first day of school, Nittie proudly entered the schoolhouse and gazed in awe at the posters, books, blackboards, and desks.  However, when she answered her name at roll call, she could see the look on her teacher Mrs. Pearson’s face.  The look said it all:  “Good grief.  Another Palmer child!”   Nittie knew that her older brothers and sisters were hardly model students.  While the lure of hot oatmeal every morning and the occasional cup of hot cocoa would have by itself delighted Nittie, it wasn’t enough for her brothers and sisters.  Even the warmth of the school during the harsh winters couldn’t draw them in.   Their attendance was sporadic at best, and when they did bother to come to school, they were more often than not sent home for behavioral problems.

From the beginning, Nittie looked on school as a place of hope and discovery.  Mrs. Pearson was amazed.  One day, Mrs. Pearson found Nittie cleaning up the classroom.  She wasn’t asked to do this.  She did it to stay in the school as long as possible.  “Nittie?”  “Yes’m Mrs. Pearson.”  “You are a fine young lady.” “Thank you ma’am.”  “Are you sure you’re a Palmer?  You’re nothing like your siblings.” “Mrs. Pearson?”  “Yes, Nittie.” “What are siblings?”  “I think I need to sit down.”  “Are you okay, Mrs. Pearson?”  “I’m fine, Nittie.  I just can’t the fact that you asked a question.  Siblings are brothers and sisters.” 

Nittie progressed through school with straight A’s.  But there was a price to pay.  The other children in her school, and especially her siblings, would taunt her and tease her mercilessly.  Their favorite taunt was “Nittie, Nittie thinks she’s pretty, when in fact she’s full of …”  They’d all start laughing when they reached the last word.  Even her mother rarely had a good word for her.  A historic moment was reached when Nittie was promoted to the 11^th grade.  No one in her family had reached that number.  Her older brothers and sisters dropped out.  Some eventually went into the service, some got involved with people who were even lower on the food chain than they were. 

One day, Nittie was browsing in the library.  Mrs. Pearson walked in.  “Nittie, can I speak with you in private?” “Yes’m Mrs. Pearson.”  “Let’s go to my classroom.

Nittie and Mrs. Pearson went to Mrs. Pearson’s classroom and Mrs. Pearson closed the door.  On looking around the classroom,  memories of first grade flooded over Nittie.  She could still smell the oatmeal and cocoa.  “Nittie, I’m so proud of you.  Have you thought about going to college?” “Yes ma’am.  I want to be a doctor.”  “You’ll be a great doctor. What colleges are you looking at?” “It would be a dream with I could go to State University.  I go to their website every time I can get on a computer.” “It’s a wonderful school, and they have an excellent pre-med program.  Promise me you won’t abandon this dream.”  “I won’t, Mrs. Pearson.  Somehow, I’m going to make it happen.”  “I know you will.  … Nittie, there’s another thing.” “What’s that, Mrs. Pearson?” “I know from your records that your legal name is Nittie Palmer.  Do you like your name?” “Is there something wrong with it, Mrs. Pearson?” “No, not at all.  It’s just that the name ‘Nittie’ sounds more like a nickname than a full name.  You might think about changing it.  You can still go by ‘Nittie’ if you choose, but it would be as a nickname.” “That’s something to think about, Mrs. Pearson.  What name should I choose?” “Well Nittie, that’s your choice.  Nittie does sound like a nickname for Anita.  What do you think?” “I like it.  I don’t know anyone named Anita.” “Just think about it, Nittie.”  “I will, Mrs. Pearson.  Thank you for your faith in me.” “You’re most welcome.”

During her senior year in high school,  Nittie’s English teacher helped her submit her application to State University and evaluated her work on a college level.  She adopted the name “Anita Pearson Palmer.” The fact that she was accepted came as no surprise to anyone at the school.  Nittie  kept everything a secret from her mother.  One of her older sisters was killed in an automobile accident and her younger brother was getting involved in drugs. When Nittie walked across the stage at graduation, there was no one from her family present.   She was absolutely floored when the faculty presented her with a large check to help with her university tuition.  She had also been awarded a substantial work scholarship by the university.

In Nittie’s little community, getting a driver’s license was much more coveted than a high school diploma.  Nittie waited until the summer before leaving for State University to get her license.  Her boyfriend Gabriel taught her to drive as no one in the Palmer family had a car.  She had begun dating him during their senior year.  He was by far the smartest boy in the class, and was also a jock and quite good looking.  Naturally, most of the girls threw themselves at him, but he only had eyes for Nittie.  Even he, however, dropped her when she wouldn’t put out.  They did remain friends. 

Nittie also had a flair for sewing.  During her senior year, she looked at many photos of college girls and created designs from them.   During the summer before going off to college, she would go to the school.  The principal would let her into the home economics classroom where she made a number of outfits for college.  The home economics teacher even helped her achieve a more professional look and gave her lots of fabric.  She even made two outfits for her mother, which she left for her when she left home.  There would be a note in one that said, “This is for you to wear when I get my university degree, should you choose to come.”

Her driver’s license arrived in the mail.  Her mother saw it and asked Nittie what it was.  When Nittie said it was her driver’s license, Mrs. Palmer asked to see it.  She inspected the license and handed it back to Nittie.   “Who is Anita Pearson Palmer?” “That’s me, mawmaw.”  “You’re Nittie Palmer.  Ain’t that name good enough for you?” “I love my name, mawmaw, but I need a fuller name.” “Why?”
“I’m going to be a doctor.”  “A doctor?!? And I’m going to be a asternaught. You just think you’re somethin’, don’t you?” “Yes, mawmaw, I do.”  “Well, why don’t you just get your little hiney outta here and take your driver’s license with you, Miss Anita Pearson Palmer.  That name, don’t mean nothin’ to me.”

Mrs. Pearson and her husband let Nittie spend the rest of the summer with them and saw her off at the bus station on a hot August morning as she headed for State University.  Mr. Pearson gave her a trunk.  The faculty gave her lots of things a college girl would like.  Mrs. Gallagher, her English teacher, even gave her a laptop computer.  During her time at State University, she would write her mother every week, but her mother never responded.  She also wrote all of her teachers to let them know of her progress. Nittie returned to her little hometown during the fall of her freshman year, but her mother made it clear she wasn’t welcome in her home.  What siblings and schoolmates who were still around still taunted her with the “Nittie, Nittie, thinks she’s pretty” gibe.  

Anita Palmer, as she became known at State University, flourished.  At the blink of an eye, she graduated and found herself accepted into medical school.  Once again, she walked across a platform to receive her diploma, but this time in a large stadium.  She’d sent her mother an invitation, and even sent her money for a bus ticket.  Her mother was nowhere to be seen.

Before beginning medical school at State University, Anita returned home.  She discovered that her mother had moved.  Neither Mrs. Pearson nor Mrs. Gallagher ever saw her or any of Anita’s siblings. Her mother had quit her job at the local diner.  The rumor at the diner was that she ran away with a man.

While in medical school, Anita met and fell in love with Daniel Powright.  When they both completed their residencies, they decided to set up a practice in a rural community similar to the one Anita had grown up in.  It took a while for the practice to get a foothold in the area.  Anita and Daniel lived from hand to mouth and often accepted services and goods in exchange for payments.  In fact, their house, its furnishings, and much of the food they ate were provided by community members. 

After about ten years, Daniel grew tired of the routine medical care he and Anita typically provided.  He grew especially impatient with people who returned time and time again with the same problems, problems that should have been cleared up the first time.  During this period, they had two children.

One evening, after an especially long and tiresome day, Daniel sat down with Anita at the kitchen table.

“Anita, …”

“I know what you’re about to say, Daniel.  You can’t take another day of this type of medical practice.  I’ve seen it on your face for years.  Frankly, I’m surprised you’ve lasted this long”

“Anita, I love you, but I don’t love these people.  If they would follow our instructions, I’d feel like I was making a contribution.   But the people here are no healthier than they were ten years ago.  I’m worn out.  I also long to work on a more advanced level. ”

“I know.  So, what should we do?”

“Let’s look for someone to take over, someone young and full of energy, and let’s move on.”

“I can’t Daniel.  These are my people and I can’t desert them.”

“I guess that means…”

“It means you need to do what you feel is best.  We still love each other, and we still love our children.  Believe me, they know what kind of strain you’ve felt.   Jody has even asked about it.”

Anita and Daniel separated.  Daniel moved to a larger city that had a major hospital.  He began rejuvenating his career by developing a specialty.   Anita continued her work in the small community by herself.  Their children divided their time, but it was clear that while they loved their mother, the lure of a larger city and more opportunities led them to prefer being with their father.  They spent as much time together as possible, but it became inevitable that their marriage was over.  Anita and Daniel divorced amicably and three years later, Daniel remarried. 

One day, as Anita was tending to the endless stream of fractures, cuts, stomach ailments, and other routine ailments, the receptionist came into the examination room to let Anita know that there was someone who wanted to speak to her.  Anita told her she could see her in about an hour.

The woman waited in the waiting room until Anita had time for a break. When Anita walked out, she immediately recognized the woman.  It was her mother.  She was wearing the dress Anita had made for her all those years before, the dress she had hoped Mrs. Palmer would wear to her university graduation.  Mrs. Palmer was much thinner and frailer than she had been.  The dress hung on her like it might on a scarecrow.

“Hello mawmaw.”

“Hello, Nittie.”

They stood awkwardly in front of each other, just staring at each other.

“So you’re a doctor like you said you’d be.”

“Yes, mawmaw, I am.  Let’s go into my office.”

Mrs. Palmer looked around and noticed the diplomas and citations on the wall. “Well, good for you.  Pin a rose on your tail.”

“Is that what you came to tell me?”

“I really don’t know why I came here. I live about five miles from here, but got a ride with a friend to take care of some business and was just walkin’ around killin’ time, and saw the sign in front of your office. ‘Anita P. Palmer, M.D. Family Practice.’  I just decided to come on in.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“Fat chance of that.”

“I mean it.  I’ve always worried about you.  You seem to have fallen off the face of the earth.”

“Well, you might have heard that I ran off with a man. I can really pick the winners!  We lived together for a couple of years and then he just walked away just like your pawpaw did.  I drifted around.  Don’t ask me what I did to stay alive. It’s not pretty.”

“Mawmaw,  there are lots of people waiting to see me.  Can we have supper together?”

“I’ve got to meet up with my ride.  I just thought I’d stop in.”

As Mrs. Palmer walked out the office, she turned around and said to Anita:  “The fruits of my loins are all bitter.  Where did I go wrong?”  She then laughed and walked out the door.

“Folks,” Anita announced to the ten or so people waiting at her office, “I need to leave my office for a few minutes.  My receptionist, Miss Drew, will do everything she can to make you comfortable.  I do apologize, but this is important.”

Anita then flew out the door and headed up the street. “Mawmaw, stop, please!”

She was able to catch up with Mrs. Palmer and just planted herself in front of her, stopping Mrs. Palmer in her tracks.  “Mawmaw, what was that statement you just made all about?”

“Just the jabberings of an old woman, nothing else,” Mrs. Palmer replied.

“It has to mean something.  Now listen!  You didn’t come to my high school graduation. You threw me out of the house when I decided to take up a name other than ‘Nittie.’  You didn’t come to my university graduation.  You never answered my letters.  You weren’t at my wedding.  I could go on.  I think you at least own me five minutes of your time to explain a few things.”

“I don’t owe you nothin’!”

Anita decided that her mother must be mentally off, so she decided to approach her gently.

“Please, mawmaw.  Please just let me know why.  You can leave and catch your ride.  But please let me know why.”

Anita guided Mrs. Palmer over to a bench and they sat down.

“Okay. You win.  I’ll make it quick and simple.  Your pawpaw had a roving eye.  On one of his rovings he got a girl in the family way.  She couldn’t keep the baby, so I agreed to take the baby in.  I already had seven, so one more wouldn’t make much difference.  I was a big woman, so no one could be sure it weren’t mine.  We got papers made up even. You were that baby.  Now, can I go?”

“So, what you’re saying is that all of your children went one way, and I went another, right?”

“They went the way they was intended to go and you went the way you was intended to go.  That’s all I can figure about it.”

“You know I tried to be a good daughter and a good sister to my siblings.”

“You kept rubbin’ it in all right.   ‘Nittie, Nittie, thinks she’s pretty.’ “ Mrs. Palmer then laughed.

“Just one more question, and then you can go.  I promise.”

“What’s that?  I hope my ride hasn’t taken off.  But then, what’s new?”

“Do you know who my biological mother was?”

“You mean the little whore who popped you out?”

“If that’s what she was, yes?”

“She weren’t no whore. She was a nice girl, as far as I could tell.  Her name was Anita.”

With that comment, Mrs. Palmer stood up and walked away.