I hung my head. Lillian must have spoken to Mom about my refusal to wear my glasses.
“Anna,” Mom lifted my chin. “You are so smart, and I know you can do really well in school. But you have to be able to see to learn.”
“But I hate those glasses. My eyes look gigantic in them. No one else has to wear them, so they don’t understand.”
“I understand about not loving how you look. Do you think I’m one hundred percent happy with my appearance?”
I shrugged.
“Well, I’m not. For starters, I’d like to be about five or six inches taller. And I’d like to have thinner hips and thighs. I’ve been doing well at Weight Watchers, but I still have a way to go before I reach my goal weight.”
I smiled as I thought about Mom faithfully attending her Weight Watchers meetings —the only thing she did outside the group. She ate a lot of fish to help her weight-loss efforts, and none of us could stand the smell when she cooked it.
“But we can’t help things like our eyesight,” Mom continued. “That’s how God made you. And you have a choice tomorrow. You can refuse to wear glasses and suffer the consequences in your grades. Or you can choose to wear them and see just how well you can do academically.” She brushed a loose strand of hair off my forehead and kissed it lightly.
The next morning at school, as I joined the dozen or so other students, I sat down at my school desk in Mark and Lillian’s garage, reached into my bag, and pulled out my glasses. I gazed at the shiny, new classroom. I could see across the room now. After that, I wore my glasses every day.
DRESSED IN MY SUNDAY BEST —a wrinkled plaid skirt and dingy white blouse —I padded across the concrete floor in the appliance showroom to the phone that rang so loudly it echoed off the bare walls. I could smell that something had been burned in the kitchen upstairs. The person in charge of making the toast had probably been distracted and forgotten about the bread under the broiler in the oven.
It was August 16, 1981, a memorable Sunday for me because Mark and Lillian had recently promoted me from appliance cleaner at the warehouse to receptionist at the Gulf Freeway location of Reliance Appliance, aka our house.
“Anna can answer phones. She has a pleasant demeanor. And she thinks quickly,” Mark told Lillian.
I couldn’t believe any of the adults in my family noticed me, let alone would say such nice things about me. I assumed the adults around me thought about me the same way I felt about myself, as nothing but a nuisance and a bother. But apparently Mark and Lillian had enough faith in me for this new responsibility. After I thanked them, I silently thanked a God I didn’t actually have a relationship with. We still didn’t talk about Jesus or reference Him in conversation, but I was definitely becoming more aware of spiritual things and the basis of the Christian faith. Slowly, I was beginning to put the pieces together.
A couple of times a week, Mark ran ads in a local newspaper called the Greensheet. My favorite ad pictured a pirate with the headline “Wanted Dead or Alive! Reliance Appliance will pick up your unused appliances, working or not.”
So when the phone rang that morning, it was perfectly natural for me to answer the call. We had only one phone line for both business matters and personal calls, but we always answered it as a business phone until we knew who was on the other end. I picked up the phone and was about to begin my usual friendly greeting, “Reliance Appliance, how may I help you?” but before I could utter a word, I heard a familiar deep voice. An involuntary shiver snaked its way up my spine. Dan Jordan! Although I hadn’t thought of him for quite a long time, his voice immediately brought back my intense loathing for this man. In that split second, I realized that Mom had picked up one of the phones upstairs the moment I had and was on the line too.
I knew I should hang up. Or identify myself. After all, Dan Jordan hadn’t called to talk to me. In the span of a millisecond, my curiosity and obedient nature began wrestling. Why was Dan calling on a Sunday morning? Shouldn’t he be getting ready to go to church? Usually he was all business. Or all religion, depending on what the situation warranted.
What would Mom say to him? I couldn’t imagine she really liked this man who mistreated and verbally abused the wives and children of Ervil LeBaron, but he was in a position of authority over us so she dutifully gave him the attention he demanded.
My curiosity won out, and I stayed on the extension to listen to the conversation. I covered the mouthpiece of the phone with my hand so that neither of them would hear me breathing. Still, I could feel guilt and fear rising in my gut. I wondered what horrible punishment Dan would order if he found out I was eavesdropping.
“Anna Mae, you’re my first call to a member of the family. Ervil was found dead in his prison cell.” Dan relayed the news without any emotion, as though he’d called to tell my mom about the weather in Denver that day.
I suppressed a gasp. My father’s dead. Even though I scarcely knew him and had seen him only a few times in my life, I was sad. With Dan’s matter-of-fact declaration, any opportunity for a relationship with my father was gone forever. Not that I had actually believed he might be capable of that. After all, many dads with only two or three children struggle to make time for their families. Imagine trying to maintain relationships with more than fifty kids, scattered all over Texas, Colorado, California, and Mexico.
The silence on the phone hung heavy, to the point I could hear the blood pounding in my ears. I tightened my grip over the mouthpiece for fear Dan might hear my short, panicked breaths.
Finally, Mom spoke. “What? Are you sure?” Her voice sounded far away. I wondered if she had dropped the receiver.
“Yes, I’m sure. His attorney called me a few minutes ago.”
I was still mulling over what this news would mean for our family when Mom’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “How can this be? He was ‘The One Mighty and Strong’ who was supposed to usher in the Millennium.”
“It’s true, Anna Mae. The assistant warden called Ervil’s attorney as soon as they found the body. The attorney didn’t want the family to hear about it on the news.”
Mom let out a heavy sigh from deep within. “What happened? Was he killed?”
“Well, it’s not outside the realm of possibility,” Dan said. “But they say he suffered a massive heart attack. He died instantly. A cell block guard discovered him during roll call. There’s some talk that it could’ve been an orchestrated murder at the hands of someone hired by the LDS church. But we’ll never be able to prove anything, even if that is what happened.”
Her next words were barely above a whisper. “I just can’t believe it. He’s just so . . . Ervil . . . dead.”
She coughed, then cleared her throat. “What do I need to do?”