The Wrong Kind of Love

They hauled off Maudine Hickerston's youngest boy, Eugene Ray, yesterday. He was caught down at the bank with his hand in the till; ten to twenty in the state prison. Eugene Ray was one of those pampered kid you read about. His mamma breast fed him--even in public--until he was ready to be sent off to school. That caused problems 'cause for almost a year he begged his teacher to accommodate his need for milk on the spot like his mamma had done. He was always dressed in the finest clothes his mother could afford. It was obvious that she was going without things she needed to satisfy her little darling's wants. Eugene Ray was an unexpected baby, the last in a parade of six children. Only two months before he was born his daddy had deserted the family and run off with a woman he met while on a business trip to New Orleans. During her pregnancy Maudine came close to losing her baby on a couple of occasions. When he came I reckon he was all that was left of her former life, a little part of his daddy, and she wasn't about to lose that little part. In school he was known as a troublemaker and Maudine was constantly making trips to the principal's office to plead on his behalf. He was always coming home with things he didn't go to school with and convinced his mother that they were gifts from friends. She, of course, believed him because she had no doubt that people would shower him with treasures just because of who he was and how he looked. Yesterday, down at the sheriff's office, Maudine was there advocating for her boy. She yelled at a deputy for having the handcuffs too tight. They were pushing and shoving her child. She would see to it they were found out and punished. They weren't going to get away with framing her little angel. And to her boy she said, "Don't worry, Genie. I'll get you out. Somehow." Eugene Ray just looked straight ahead. He didn't even say goodbye.