Memoirs From a Performer
I never considered myself evil. But life’s experiences can alter you in ways unimaginable. I grew up as wholesome girl in Southern Mississippi, Biloxi to be exact. I had a mother, a father and two older brothers. Being the only daughter of banker had its perks. My mother loved to make me unique dresses so I could be the prettiest girl in all of Mississippi. My daddy would buy the most beautiful fabrics. My evening gowns were backless with bloused bodices and fox furs with heads and tails. I grew up in the Depression, although it seemed like a distant event to me. As a young girl I would never know the struggles most girls my age faced. I was well off and extraordinarily beautiful. I was the most sought after girl in all of Mississippi. I was sought after by some of the most prominent men in Biloxi, including Mr. Mathews’ (the mayor) son Blake. Blake was a very handsome young man, he was tall, dark haired and he had the most heart-melting smile, but you should not fall in love with a book because of its cover, you have to open it up and read for yourself. Blake was born in 1923 making him four years my senior. I did not know much about him when we met but I was captivated by his smile. He was a sly devil. He did not court me very long before asking my father for my hand in marriage. I remember like it was yesterday. I was upstairs in my room trying on dresses my mother had sewn herself, when Blake came to my front porch where my father sat reading a novel.
He said to my father, “Mr. Sawyer, I would like to ask to have your daughter’s hand in marriage.” My father chuckled and said, “Which one?” Blake made a puzzled face but before he could ask what my father meant, my father let out an exuberant laugh, and simply said, “I’m joking with you son. I was wondering when you were gonna muster up the nerve to ask to marry Belle, my sweet lovely Belle.” “Tell me something Blake, can you take care of my daughter…I mean really take care of her, she’s my only daughter I don’t want anything to happen to her, ya hear!”
Blake batted those long eyelashes and looked up to my father and said, “I would love and honor your daughter as if she was the only thing worth living for.”
Mmm…the lies he told. It was January 1945 when Blake received my daddy’s blessing. We were married that April. It rained on my wedding day, luckily the wedding was indoors, but that surely was a sign of what was to come. My mother died shortly after my wedding and it was very hard for me. Those gorgeous dresses she made for me, I would cherish forever.
What I was unaware of was that Blake did not marry me because he loved me or even particularly liked me no, that was not the case. But I wouldn’t find out his motives for taking my hand until close to our first anniversary. But I always had my suspicions that he did not love me the way I loved and wanted him. When he kissed me it was never passionate, and his eyes never said I love you. They were green but not bright. They were big but not filled with love. They were filled with greed.
